#christmas sleepover

[dxncingwithastrxnger]

you and me here, underneath the mistletoe (Sanemi x Reader)

A/N: Hey guys!!! Today we have a lil Sanemi Christmas drabble requested by my wonderful, amazing bestie @tojisangrylittlething!!! Sidney, I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it for you!! Ilysm!!! I hope anyone else who reads this enjoys it as well!!!

Pairing(s): Sanemi x GN!Reader (Pronouns not specificed)

Prompts: "Stop trying to get me to walk under the mistletoe.” + Decorating the tree from my Christmas Sleepover post

Tag(s): All fluff!!

Word Count: 675

Song Inspiration: Underneath the Mistletoe By Sia

Not beta'd, all mistakes are my own.

~*~

“Hey, ‘Nemi, can you help me out here? This box is way too heavy.” You ask the white-haired man, looking at him hopefully.

He turns his head with a raised eyebrow, looking down at the box and then back up at you. “Alright.” He simply says, unconvinced.

And then, instead of stepping up beside you to lean down and grab the box like you expected him to, he just grabs one of the cardboard flaps and pulls it all the way over beside the tree. You pout slightly in disappointment but perk up and decide to try again.

It goes like this for awhile, the two of you starting to decorate the tree as you continue to try and lure him beneath that little branch of green and holly berries. Somehow, he picked up on all of your attempts to do so. But you aren’t finished yet.

“Sanemiiiii.” You drag out playfully, holding your arms out to him with a bright grin.

Sanemi looks at you and sighs, a slight frustration on his face. “Stop trying to get me to walk under the mistletoe.” He tells you firmly.

You let your head fall back in exasperation and give out a loud groan. “You’re no fun, San. Please?” You plead.

He rolls his eyes at you. “You do this every year and the answer is still no. I’m not participating in that bullshit tradition. You’re lucky I even tolerate that damn branch hanging on our ceiling.” He huffs.

You sigh softly. “Why are you even so against it in the first place, huh?”

Your boyfriend scoffs. “Because it’s stupid. You know, real mistletoe is poisonous. Who looks at poison and says, “Oh yeah, I wanna kiss my partner under that”? Like I said, stupid.”

You can’t help but laugh at how serious he is about it, his expression telling you that if you asked for more of his thoughts on the topic, he’d go on for another hour, no questions asked. “You really are passionate about this, aren’t you?” You ask with a grin.

Sanemi gives you an exasperated look. “(Y/N). Seriously. Why do you like the tradition so much?” He questions you.

You smile and walk up to him, grabbing both of his hands in yours. “Because it’s just a cute little thing that people do and it can be romantic and sweet.” You tell him sincerely.

A slight pout forms on his face as he looks away from you and off to the side, though he keeps hold of your hands. “I can be romantic and sweet.” He mumbles.

You giggle softly. “I know you can, babe. So, prove it. And if you do it just this once, then I’ll never ask you to do it ever again, okay? I promise.”

He turns back to you with narrowed eyes. “Just one time?” He questions skeptically.

“Just one time and then never again.” You confirm.

He stares at you for another minute before sighing deeply and giving a small nod of his head. “Fine. Once.”

Your face lights up. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Nemi!!” You exclaim, happily tugging him over to your previous spot underneath the waxy mistletoe hanging from the ceiling.

He follows along slowly, but he follows nonetheless. Once you both come to a stop, you look up at him hopefully and expectantly. He sighs again before looking down at you. He takes a step closer to you and takes one hand out of yours in order to place it on your cheek gently, cradling your face.

He mumbles something under his breath, but the only word you catch is “stupid”. Then, after one more moment of hesitation, he leans down and kisses you sweetly. You melt into the kiss happily and wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him back and holding onto him.

When the two of you pull away, you press your forehead against his. “Happy now?” He grumbles despite you knowing that he’s smiling.

“Very much so.” You tell him with a smile of your own.

~*~

A/N: How was it?? This was my first ever Sanemi fic!! I love that man sm. I hope you all enjoyed it!!! I'd love to hear your thoughts!! Thank you for reading!!!

#purple_strxnger #purple_strxnger_stories #kny #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny sanemi #sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi #sanemi x reader #sanemi x you #sanemi x y/n #sanemi x male reader #sanemi x female reader #sanemi x gn reader #sanemi x gender neutral reader #christmas sleepover #christmas fic #kny christmas fic #sanemi christmas fic #kny au #sanemi au #strxngerrequests

[blackbat05]

Different

Rick Flag x Reader

Plot: You were always at odds with a certain Colonel. Will Christmas change things?

Genre: PG-13, Colleagues/Neighbors/Enemies to Lovers (wow so many tropes in one haha) Christmas theme (again)

A/N: Big thanks to @the-slumberparty for letting me not forget my writing roots in times of writer’s slump/block! 2nd piece for sleepover event to hopefully end the year right. Enjoy and please reblog/comment!❤️

Prompt: “I never hated you. I just didn’t want you to know how much I liked you.”

***

“Motherfu-”

You yell in pain as the infirmary doctor at Belle Reve patches up your injuries. “Sorry, I wasn’t-”

The doctor waves away your apology nonchalantly. He brushes a strand of grey hair off his face before applying more iodine to the angry looking flesh on your knee. Hats off to him, he does quick and efficient work. The doctor sends you on your way with a month’s worth of painkillers and advice to rest.

“Thanks doc, but I don’t think that’s in Waller’s dictionary. At least not for us.”

He doesn’t refute your statement and simply prepares to see his next patient. Bag of medicine in hand, you limp to the office as quickly as you can. You want to get out of the penitentiary and lay in the comfort of your own bed.

You acknowledge Emilia and John who congratulate you on another successful mission. Even Amanda Waller, who you had to submit your report to despite being on the brink of death gives a subtle nod to the quick thinking that you displayed on the field. But knowing her, she probably was just happy that she could continue using her soldiers.

Including the ridiculously handsome Colonel who had marched into the shared office space, not sparing you a glance. He shoves his belongings into his bag and he is gone as quickly as he came.

You frown. You have no idea what’s his problem. Ever since your first day, it felt as if like he’s had it out for you. And the best part? For no good reason. He was civil with everyone. Everyone but you. He was downright rude and a jerk.

Emilia gives you an empathetic smile. The two of you leaned on each other, being one of the few females in an environment that wasn’t exactly sunshine and rainbows. She comforted you after Rick blew your head off for almost ruining the mission when all you did was to rescue two innocent children in the crossfire.

“Cheer up! At least it’ll be Christmas soon. Things will be different.” She says. “Any plans?”

You shake your head. “Not that I can think of. I’m just lucky that I survived this mission.” You sling your bag over your shoulder and bid them goodbye. Emilia was right, at least it was that time of the year. Maybe things will be different.

***

It looks like the doctor had clearly outdone himself. Your injuries were healing nicely and you could even step outside your house for a jog. Dressed in your running gear, you leave your apartment and step into the pleasantly cold weather.

Making your way round the block, you arrive back at your apartment. You think about what you wanted to do next with the treasured free time that you have. Perhaps you’ll order in from that Korean restaurant, pull out a Disney movie and be a couch potato for the rest of the day.

Yeah, that sounded excellent.

Deep in thought about what you should pick from the menu, you don’t notice that one of the stitches from your more severe wounds snap, causing a patch of red to blossom at the side of your stomach. The lift dings, signaling that this is your floor. Thank god no one saw you. They knew who you were but most of your neighbors were under the impression that you were an outdoor educator.

Clutching the side of your stomach, you willed yourself to take the steps forward needed to get to your door. Easy does it, you think. Unfortunately, your vision starts to spot and the floor starts to shake. This unnerves your usually calm demeanor as your breathing quickens. As if it was an eternity, you reach the door. All you needed to do was to get the keys, unlock the door and-

And…

***

You blink, shifting uncomfortably on the sofa. To be exact, your sofa.

How did you get inside? You can’t remember anything after the jog.

“You’re awake.” A familiar voice can be heard and a flop of messy blonde hair comes into vision. You don’t know how Rick Flag got into your house, let alone knew that you lived here.

“Rick?”

“Yeah, it’s me darlin.”

The name somehow wakes you up and you attempt to sit upright only for Rick to gently push you back down. “I just did your stitches for you. You don’t want to burst them again.” He tells you and your cheeks heat up. Rick did your stitches, which means he saw you- Stop it!

“How did you know where I lived? How did you even know I was coming back home?” You focus your attention on the important moments. “Are you stalking me? I could sue you for workplace harassment.”

Rick lets out a deep chuckle that has butterflies bursting in the pit of your stomach. “Yeah, you do that. Though I don’t think there’s any issue with me coming to this building seeing as it’s my home too.”

You let yourself process this. “Wait… you’re the neighbor from five-oh-two?” You wanted to mentally slap yourself in the face. No wonder Mrs Jenkins told you that neighbor five-oh-two was supposedly a private contractor. That he had weird, odd hours. That apparently you should have met him since you and him leave around the same time in the morning for work.

Rick smiles. “That’s me.”

You almost let your defenses down until you realized that it’s been eight months since you moved in here and you’ve met everyone on your level except one. Until now.

This reaffirms the fact that Rick Flag hates you for no good reason and has wants nothing to do with you outside work. Even if he is your neighbor. Fine. Two people can play that game.

“Thanks for fixing me up. I’m not sure why the stitch burst open but I’ll let Doctor Shaw know when I get back to work.”

Rick catches on to your sudden frostiness. His expression softens for a moment before it is replaced by the brooding look that you have grown so accustomed to. “Sure. Uh… have a good Christmas.”

That was oddly civil.

You nod stiffly, closing the door as he steps out your house.

You really need a glass of water.

***

Christmas. The time of jolly good cheer.

You walk down the shops that are adorned with bright lights and Christmas decorations, mood improving significantly.

Okay, the steak that you had for dinner also played a part in the great day that you had. You also decided to treat yourself, purchasing a lovely sweater. Bag in hand, you continue down the pavement. If only every day could be like this. Not throwing yourself into life or death situations, not having criminals as your field members, not having to deal with a tyrannical boss at work and most importantly…

Not having to see Rick Flag twenty-four seven.

Even if he may be disarmingly handsome and everything that you wanted.

A loud honk and bright flights come flashing at you and instead of ducking for cover, you stand there like a deer in headlights, as if waiting for the truck to hit you.

A hand reaches out and grabs you by the arm, pulling you back to safety where pedestrians continue on their way. You find yourself staring into the sea foam eyes of the Colonel who does not look pleased one bit. In fact, he looks positively seething with rage. Rage that was about to be directed at you.

“What were you thinking? Are you trying to get yourself killed?” He grips you by the shoulder tightly and you would have swatted his hands away if you weren’t still recovering from the shock of it all. “Are you injured anywhere? Do you need me to take you to the hospital?”

You shake your head slowly and Rick sighs with relief. Apparently, he only just realizes what he is doing and removes his hands as if like he had touched something that he shouldn’t have. This annoys you and is also enough to tip you over the edge.

“What’s your problem?”

Rick’s brows furrow in confusion before his face twists in disgust. “Is this how you thank someone for saving you from almost being hit by a one ton truck?”

“No, this is me asking if you have a problem with me.” You refuse to back down. “Because it’s either you pretend to be worried or save me from a ‘rookie’ mistake I made on the field and proceed to humiliate me publicly!” You raised your voice. “If you hate me, make it clear. I can’t do anything about work but I can make myself disappear when we’re outside.”

You proceed to turn around to be on your way when Rick holds you by the wrist. He hangs his head, surprisingly defeated by your words. You want to twist yourself out of his grasp, but his sad golden retriever appearance is making it very hard for you to be the villain here.

“Please,” Rick pleads. “Stay.”

An internal you battle, you relent and let him take you to a nearby cafe. He insists on getting you something, so you order a simple hot chocolate to calm your nerves. You remain silent, waiting for what the Colonel has to say.

“I’m sorry.”

You cock your head to the side, unsure if you were hearing things after that truck almost ran you over.

“I didn’t mean to do all of that.” Rick starts. “It was unprofessional and very unlike me. It was just that-” He inhales deeply.

“When I see you throwing yourself in danger or being in danger… my mind stops working. I’m so scared that one day, things will go wrong and I’m left alone again.” He grips the handle of his mug tightly.

“Remember when you saved those two children?”

“How could I forget?”

“You were amazing for that. You were fearless and brave. That’s what I wanted to tell you. But my fear became the better of me and I hurt you instead.” Rick recounts bitterly.

“I never hated you. I just didn’t want you to know how much I liked you.”

Rick can’t bring himself to look at your reaction. Perhaps a peek and he sees that your mouth is hanging open slightly. Oh, he’s done it. He’s really blown this to bits. Perhaps he can file in a transfer when he gets to work - yeah, as if Waller would allow that. Perhaps death would be the best option.

“Then say it.”

Rick stares at you, dumbfounded. A small smile is etched on your lips. “Say it you big dummy.” You laugh this time and his heart skips a beat.

“Okay, maybe I’ll say it first. Get the ball rolling hm?” You add playfully, enjoying the look on his face. “I lo- oof!”

Rick knocks his chair over from standing up to fast as he makes his way to you, engulfing you in a big and warm embrace. You freeze but only momentarily before melting into his hug that smelled like cinnamon.

“I love you Y/N Y/S/N.” He says breathlessly before giving you what was possibly the most mind shattering kisses that you ever had.

The Christmas lights start to dance around each other and the music in the cafe plays a slow jazz song. People trickle in and out for a nice warm drink and you are content with how Christmas has played out today.

Christmas could be different after all.

#colonel rick flag x reader #rick flag x reader #rick flag fanfiction #navy and roo's sleepover #christmas fanfic #christmas

[qtubbo]

I feel so bad for sunny about earlier she has such a small support network and finally getting to hangout with a lot of other eggs like they’ve wanted only for that come crashing down on them. At least they had Ramon and Fit, getting to be Ramon’s little sister is probably making them feel a lot better but it still stings.

#Getting so brutally rejected twice and feeling like last pick is not how christmas is supposed to go :[ #Hope they have fun at her sleepover with ramon #Also fit treating her like his kid must be pretty nice two since they are so clingy to their love ones #At least she got a older brother and new dad out of all this :] #qsmp #Qsmp sunny

[thezombieprostitute]

Baby's First Christmas

A/N written for @the-slumberparty's Naughty or Nice Challenge. AFAB reader but no other descriptors used.

Prompt 19: “Every time you look at me, I melt a little.”

Christmas had always been your holiday. You loved the lights. You loved the music. You especially loved the cheer. Curtis had never really thought much of the holiday but happily supported you in everything you did to celebrate.

Last Christmas you ended up not doing much but that was likely because you were 4 months pregnant and the baby definitely made you re-prioritize your energy. Curtis helped you with everything you wanted done. He made sure you sat and directed him for anything that required a stepladder. No way was he going to let you overwork yourself or put yourself at risk of any kind of falling.

This Christmas, however, you actually had the energy to pull out all of the stops like in other years. Your daughter, Lily, was kept safe in your arms or a papoose and she was utterly fascinated with all the shiny lights. Curtis joked about you making sure she was as much a fan of Christmas as you.

"That's not a bad thing," you retort, sticking out your tongue. Lily giggled at the face you made and you smiled back at her, cooing as you did. Curtis came up from behind and wrapped his arms around his girls, kissing your cheek.

"You're right, of course," he agrees. "But just promise me you'll teach her to wait until December 1st to break out the Christmas stuff. I hate when my Halloween gets tainted by St Nick.'

You giggle, "don't worry. You'll give her your love of Halloween so that she'll want to respect the sanctity of October."

"I'm not sure she enjoys Halloween," he grumbled.

"She was only a few months old," you console. "It'll be her favorite when she's allowed candy. I also think it'll be her favorite because it's your favorite."

"What do you mean?"

"If I want Lily's attention I have to make faces or big motions or something. All you have to do is talk and she's focused on you." You point to your baby who is smiling big at her dad, eyes never leaving him. "It must be all the time you spent reading her stories before she was born."

Curtis only hums in response, noting how Lily tries to mimic the noise.

The baby monitor woke you up; Lily was fussing. You start to get out of bed but Curtis stops you. "I'll get her," he assures, giving you a kiss before getting out of bed. You let yourself fall back asleep.

You wake up again and check the time, it's been an hour and Curtis still isn't back in bed. Curious and worried you get up and go to Lily's room to check on him but they're not there. You quietly walk to the living room and find Curtis holding Lily in the rocking chair, facing away from you and looking at the Christmas tree, all lit up.

As you stood there, you heard Curtis whispering to the baby girl in his arms, "I really do hope this helps you. Your mama says her favorite parts of Christmas are the peaceful moments sitting in a dark room with only the lights from the Christmas tree. No other noises or anything. I'm hoping this'll help make it your favorite thing, too."

Lily quietly babbles.

"Yeah, I know. Your mama's right about you. Your eyes follow me whenever I talk and, I'll be honest, it scares me sometimes. I used to be, well not cold-hearted, but definitely indifferent. Then I met your mama and she warmed my life. I thought my heart was done warming when your mother agreed to marry me but, every time you look at me, I melt a little."

Lily babbles back at him and yawns.

"Yeah, I suppose it is time to get you back to your crib," he says as he stands. "But it is nice to get to just sit here and talk with you. I think your mama's on to something with how calming these lights can be."

He stops when he sees you but you can't read his expression through your teary eyes. You're smiling as bright as the lights on the tree as you hug him and Lily. Curtis kisses the top of your head and whispers, "let's all get to bed, okay?"

The two of you put Lily in her crib, sleeping soundly. When you get back to your bed you're immediately curling yourself up around Curtis, going for a full-body cuddle. He chuckles at your enthusiasm and gives the warmest smile you've ever seen from him. The two of you stay cuddled up together for the rest of the night.

#naughty or nice challenge #navy and roo's sleepover #curtis everett fluff #curtis everett x female reader #dad!curtis everett #curtis everett #curtis everett christmas

[signalstatic]

creepy autistic phone harassment icons have a sleepover

#the riddler #batman 2022 #stu macher #billy lenz #scream 1996 #black christmas #slasher #edward nygma #sometimes you just gotta draw your comfort characters having a sleepover #it heals the soul

[bradleybeachbabe]

Hey, Rachel!! I hope you are doing well!! Thank you so much for doing this blurb night, you always create something so magical when you do! Could I pretty please have one with - you guessed it - Topper and a Pogue! reader with the prompt "I think the power just went out.” Thank you so much in advance and hope you have an amazing weekend!!

hi! hope you’re doing well too <3 i hope you have an amazing weekend too!!

warnings: not beta read

a/n: bare with me on this, it’s been a long time since i have written anything

you were spending the whole weekend at topper’s house. your boss gave you the weekend off from work, so you thought the perfect way to spend a weekend off from work was by spending time with your boyfriend. you two spent the whole day doing some christmas shopping. you were able to buy a few things for your family for this christma since you have been saving money for christmas presents ever since the beginning of the year.

you and topper were back at his house now. you were now having a quiet night in. you two were in his bed, planning on what to watch tonight.

“do you want to watch a christmas theme movie, or rewatch the vampire diaries?” topper asked as he grabbed the tv remote from his nightstand.

“let’s rewatch the godfather,” you suggested.

“you wanna rewatch the godfather? since when did you watch the godfather?” topper asked you.

“i have been watching that movie for a few years now. plus, i don’t care what you say, that movie is a christmas movie.”

“okay, whatever you say,” topper said.

topper was about to turn on his tv and put the godfather on, but then all of a sudden everything shut off. the lights in his bedroom, the tv, the heater, and anything else that was on in the whole house.

“i think the power just went out, babe,” you informed your boyfriend.

“i think you’re right about that. the generator should be turning on by now,” he said.

topper was right. not even a minute later he said that the generator turned on, and the power was back on.

“see! i told you that the generator would turn on.”

“and you’re right about that, now we can start watching the godfather,” you said.

topper turned on his tv and turned on the godfather, and for the rest of the night, you two watched it and even watched the second one until it was time for bed.

winter theme blurb sleepover

#rachel’s winter/christmas blurb sleepover #topper thornton #topper thornton x reader #topper thornton blurb

[vashti-lives]

*squints* a kid I know is turning 7 on Wednesday is this too young for a series of unfortunate events?

#he’s just old enough buying presents is getting a little hard because more options for things he could like #and I don’t know him terribly well #but I do know he was born with a cleft palate and he had a major speech impediment #and I think it makes making friends difficult #he’s not having a birthday party he’s having a ‘sleepover’ in his living room with his parents #i didn’t want to be like oh god that’s so fucking sad #to his dad #but like !!!!! it’s so sad #and Idaho is increasingly hostile to uh #most forms of life! #anyway I suspect he may find lemony snicket’s outlook familiar #and perhaps comforting #but maybe I’ll wait for Christmas? idk

[kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay]

So cold 🏔️

Summary: You - a rookie agent on their first mission - are sent out with none other than The Natasha Romanov. But what was supposed to be an easy job, suitable for your first timer status, quickly goes awry when Hydra agents unexpectedly ambush the two of you at your safe house.

You barely get away, always following the steady lead of your experienced partner, even when the path she chooses is icy and unforgiving. Can you keep up, or will you be left behind?

Pairing: Natasha Romanov x Reader

(I did not use any specifying descriptions for body type, skin colour, gender etc. so feel free to imagine whatver you like. Also, in case some descriptive word did escape my notice, please feel free to point it out and I will find a more neutral alternative)

Warnings: 18+, depictions of violence, use of weaponry (guns etc.), environmental extremes (snow storm, ice), detailed near death experience (almost freezing to death), angst, Natasha being a cryptic drama queen

Word count: 6.2k

Author's note: Hi there, long time no see lol. This is my entry for @the-slumberparty's "Christmas in July" challenge! All in the spirit of bringing some nice tropes and themes from the winter season into the heat of summer 🌨️ My chosen prompt/trope is 'Cuddling for warmth' with Natasha Romanov 🖤

I hope you enjoy 🥰💖

...

“Keep going!” Natasha shouted in front of you, her head slightly tilted to the side as she spoke, so the wind wouldn't carry the words away before they reached your ears. “It's not much longer now, agent!”

You weren't cut out for this. You had massively misjudged your own abilities and it was coming back to bite you in the ass now.

She was wearing her usual attire, the thin suit not suited for this weather any better than your own tactical gear.

Your winter clothes were still back at the not-so-safe house you had to abandon after Hydra had invaded the space in search for you and the assassin still trudging ahead of you. Someone must've tipped them off that you were coming and they decided to nip the threat – aka you and Natasha – in the bud.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you panted, toes and fingers frozen from the icy winds. Snowflakes whipped around you, the cold ice crystals biting at your exposed skin. It felt like being poked with dozens of sharp needles.

Natasha and you barely escaped the awaiting Hydra agents and you did so only because of the seasoned assassin's quick wit and ability to improvise in any situation.

She had efficiently taken out the brunt of the attackers, pried a set of car keys from the pockets of a fallen agent and then shouted at you to follow her.

The two of you left, legs pumping and heads ducked as bullets shredded the bark of the pine trees surrounding the property.

The red-head was quick to spot the vehicle, or rather one of the vehicles, their enemy used to get to the secluded house and with a flick of her finger unlocked the correct car. The black, windowless van gave a short 'beep' and flashed its lights and you headed for it without hesitation.

How you went from being in a realtively safe vehicle to stumbling through the ice cold tundra of Svalbard?

Well, your attackers swiftly started the pursuit of you and your red-headed partner, so as soon as the opportunity presented itself, you ditched the car in a mostly hidden location and continued your escape on foot, this way they had no way of tracking you via the car.

So off you went, further away from what little civilization there was in the first place and out into the uncharted terrain of the arctic archipelago.

Your frozen fingers failed to hold the loaded hand gun you had kept at the ready and you cursed when it fell into the snow. You stiff body protested as you tried to bend down to pick the weapon up, frozen limbs making it hard to remain balanced. All it took for you to topple head first into the snow was a strong gust of wind.

The icy snow bit at your skin, the cold seeping through your clothes and settling deep in your bones. You whimpered pathetically, uncoordinated limbs flailing in the snow as you tried to regain your footing.

It was so cold. The wind didn't stop blowing, the snow didn't stop falling from the sky, the usually cheerful ice crystals now glinting with murderous intent as they settled down on your shaking form.

It was summer. You didn't even know it could get this cold somewhere in the middle of summer.

But out here, on this cluster of islands in the middle of the sea, surrounded by looming mountains and sparse plant life, the cold temperatures seemed to be at home. The glittering peaks rose around you, the snow covered stone giants looking down at you like sentient beings silently awaiting your demise.

A violent shiver ripped through your body and you picked up your heavy head to look at the darkening sky. Soon it would be night and the temperatures would keep plummeting.

The thought of freezing to death in this no mans land jolted your body into motion. Along with the terrifying discovery that you couldn't spot your partner anywhere.

Adrenaline poured into your system, forcing your limbs to move. You scrambled to your feet, your legs unsteady beneath you as you stared ahead but could not see any sign of Natasha.

Your gun was long forgotten, left behind thoughtlessly as you hurried through the snow, your frantic gaze sweeping from left to right.

The storm kept sweeping up the settled snow around you and the added snowflakes swirling down from above clouded your vision further, but not so much that you wouldn't be able to see the red-head, had she waited-

Maybe she didn't realise you fell. Maybe... Maybe you laid there longer than you think, motionless in the cold snow, and she didn't notice as she kept trudging along without you.

Panic spread through your chest, a sharp, stinging sensation that expanded to your stomach and made you jittery.

All caution thrown to the wind, you hurried ahead and called out.

“Hello? Agent Romanoff? Hello!”

Your voice briefly echoed around you before the strong winds carried it away, like a sentence written with ink washed away in water.

Tears gathered in your eyes and your throat closed up.

“Please! I'm here! Where are you?”

What if she was gone and you truly were alone? Would the weather get you first, or would Hydra sniff out your trail and kill you?

You should've just accepted a desk job. When SHIELD hired you, it was to join their army of secretive pencil pushers, not to become an agent in action. But as you underwent the mandatory training every single agent had to go through – whether they would see active duty or not – your skills had quickly gotten you a few recommendations and before you knew it, you had been bumped up from a desk job to a field agent.

Just like that.

And now you were forced to accept the consequences of a decision that wasn't even fully yours. You would pay with your life because someone thought you'd make a good field agent and decided your path for you.

You really should've insisted on your original placement. Safe and sound behind a desk, uncovering and hiding away state secrets and ending secret wars all with the push of a few buttons.

You dropped to the snowy ground again, your numb legs felled by a hidden obstacle that blocked your foot and sent you to your knees. Your hands hurt terribly when they made contact with the cold ground, but you didn't dare lift them lest you fall even further. You didn't think you'd be able to get up again.

“Natasha, help-” you shouted out weakly, your arms threatening to buckle beneath you. “I don't want to die.”

Tears flooded your eyes, the salty liquid drawing cold paths along your face and gathering at the tip of your nose before dropping to the cold ground.

Just as you were about to give up, your arms folding and knees slipping, a strong hand roughly grabbed your upper arm.

You let out a scream, your body raising whatever strenght you had left to struggle weakly against the sudden assault, when the flushed face of Agent Romanoff appeared in your vision.

“Agent!” she snapped, bending down fully to grab your other arm and hoist you to your feet.

Your struggle seized immediately and relief flooded through you at the sight of her. Your hands reached out, stiff fingers holding onto her arms with all your might. She was your life line and you wouldn't dare to let her go.

She was saying something, you could hear it, words said in an urgent, but controlled tone. You saw her lips moving, the scowl she wore as she stared at you. But you didn't understand any of it. You just stood there, clutching her arms and staring at her face with wide eyes.

“We have to move!” the woman snapped eventually. She pried your hands off her arms and moved next to you. She hooked one arm around your middle, while the other grabbed one of yours and slung it over her shoulder.

You weren't much help in your state of shock, your body slow and clumsy as she did her best to drag you along, regrettably leaving wide trails in the snow behind you. If you were lucky, the falling snow would cover your tracks before anyone could follow you.

The two of you kept going for what felt like ages until eventually, Natasha stopped in a thicket of bushes and trees. She gently lowered you down, leaning your trembling body against a tree trunk and then hurried away from you.

“Wait!” you called out, the thought of her leaving you again shaking you out of your stupor. You tried to push away from the trunk, to get to your feet and follow her, but your body gave out and you helplessly slumped back agains the rough bark.

Natasha didn't stop. She walked a few more steps before stopping and crouching on the ground. You could see her hands digging through the snow, her pale skin beginning to turn blue due to the cold.

A few moments later the red-head got up again, hands latched to something on the floor. She gave a violent pull, using all her strength, leaning her body into the motion and then, with a loud, tortured creak, a trap door opened in the ground.

She flung it open, the heavy metal thumping against the snow covered ground, and turned around to retrieve you from where she left you leaning against the tree.

“Come on, we're almost there,” she said, her voice still steady, though you thought you could hear a smidge of concern in her tone.

The assassin dragged you towards the bunker, your feet tripping over air as you clumsily moved along.

The trap door looked like a hungry maw as it greeted you surrounded by the blinding white of the snow, the sight of it sending a shiver through you that had nothing to do with the icy cold still surrounding you.

“Focus, there are stairs. I can't carry you down,” Natasha said firmly and you did your best to straighten up your slumped body draped over her much more steady form.

She led you down the first step, your clumsy feet slowly following her example, even if only just.

The two of you made your way further down until you reached the bottom of the stairs. It was a good thing too, because you were ready to keel over.

“Here, hold this,” the levelheaded red-head said as she lifted your arm from around her shoulders, leaned you against the bunker wall and pressed a flashlight into your numb hands. Your frozen fingers barely managed to curl around the object before she let go of it and then hurried up the stairs.

As you stood there, shaky legs hardly supoorting your own weight, a numbing sensation took the place of the ever biting cold. The loud 'thunk' of the trap door falling shut barely stirred you, the only thought that occurred was that you should stop feeling so numb with cold now that the wind and ice had been locked out.

But the numbed prickling sensation spreading all over your body made it feel like you were still left out in the storm where the ever creeping fingers of death slowly close around your heart, squeezing it in its icy hold.

“Hey, hey! Eyes on me, agent,” Natasha snapped, a light pop to your cheek startling your eyes open again. You hadn't even noticed they'd closed.

The red-head blew out a long breath as your unfocused gaze slowly zeroed in on her. She eyed you for a long moment before turning to the metal door that was inlaid into the cement wall at the bottom of the stairs. Her pale hands grasped the heavy wheel attached to the door and turned it with all her might until it began turning with a defeaning screech.

You didn't have the energy to actually jerk at the unpleasant sound, your muscles so drained they'd even stopped their violent trembling. You didn't think that was a good thing. Didn't muscles tremble as a way to warm up your body?

The door swung open with another tortured sound and Natasha disappeared inside right after plucking the flashlight from your grasp. You swayed in place, body threatening to fold the longer you stood in the dark.

A few long moments passed and you were starting to grow restless at Natasha's absence. Taking a determined – and horribly misjudged – step forward, you immediately began to crumple to the floor in a decidedly unelegant way and with a hoarse squeak, followed by the loud 'thump' of your body hitting the cement floor.

Strangely enough, there wasn't really a sensation of pain, merely a dulled throb in your knees and elbows.

A light humming sound started to pick up around you just as you found yourself lying on the floor, the flickering of the overhead lights hurting your tired eyes.

Natasha must've found the generator. Or whatever else was used to power this ancient bunker.

You heard the quiet sounds of her light steps growing louder and eventually a cursed “Great!” uttered by her. “Can't leave you alone for a single second. How the hell did you pass your field training...”

She looped her arms underneath yours and began dragging your limp form into the bunker. Your wet clothes left a streak across the bleak floor.

“ 'm tired,” you mumbled, your thoughts swimming aimlessly around your cottony head.

“You're not allowed to sleep. That's an order from your superior Agent,” Natasha barked through clenched teeth.

She heaved your heavy body onto something soft – well, not exactly soft, but definitely softer than the unforgiving floor – and rolled you around until you laid on your back and stared up at the grey ceiling.

“We gotta get you out of your wet clothes. They will cool you down and that's the last thing we need right now,” Natasha informed you, her hand briefly touching your frozen cheek before wandering lower and working on quickly removing your layers of wet clothes.

You tried to help as best as you could, straining to lift limbs and shift left or right so she could slip off various items of clohting until you were left in your sports bra and panties. They too were slightly damp, but you were glad Natasha had decided to grant you your modesty. Not that you could have protested if she had wanted to take the last of your coverage as well.

The red-head had talked to you the entire time, keeping your mind engaged and awake. She was still talking now, her voice much more soothing than before, the tense edge gone from her rich baritone.

Some feeling was slowly coming back to your extremeties and you finally noticed how warm it was in the small underground room – and how cold you were in comparison.

Sharp, stinging pain started to needle at every inch of your skin and you had absolutely no control over the tears that rose unbidden to your eyes, barely brimming along your waterline before spilling over with a weak sob rattling in your hollow chest.

“I wan' go home,” you slurred, tears running down your temples and into your hairline.

“Hey, it's alright. You'll go home, don't worry. I'll make sure of it,” Natasha's voice soothed you.

You were so occupied with crying and suddenly fearing for your life that you didn't notice the red-head had dressed down to her underwear as well and was now climbing onto what seemed to be a sturdy, wall-mounted cot jutting out from the bleak cement walls.

The mattress dipped beneath her body as she climbed on, shuffling carefully on her knees and using her hands to roll you a little further towards the wall.

The movement jostling your body made you aware of the sublte tremble that overtook your muscles once more as you laid on the firm cot. Tears were still trickling down your face and your breathing came in shaky stutters. There were so many things you wanted to say, last words and farewells for Natasha to deliver to your loved ones, but nothing but chocked crying and shuddery breaths made it past you ice-cold lips.

“I'm going to get you warmed up. I'm sorry if you're uncomfortable with this, but I don't know how else to help you,” Natasha explained evenly.

She had shuffled down to lie next to you, her front pressed againt the curve of your spine. You felt the faint vibration of her voice against you trembling back. Your core muscles had begun to shake violently now, the cooled down flesh trying to preserve body heat with a desperate last measure.

“Come here,” the older woman muttered behind you, wrapping her arm around you and pulling your bodies flush together. Her bent legs fit perfectly against your own, her thighs slotted up against the underside of yours and her scarred knees firmly lodged in place in the soft backside of your own.

She reached out to pull the thin blanket over your bodies, carefully making sure that it covered you from your neck down to your frozen toes that still felt concerningly numb.

“S-so c-co- cold,” you mumbled, your tired eyes falling shut as you instinctively nestled back against Natasha's warm body as much as you could in your delirious, weakened state.

“Shh, you'll be warmer soon. Just stay with me, rookie,” the red-head soothed, her hand resting on your soft belly making the smallest of circling motions to calm you.

The touch was so soft, your frozen body almost didn't register it as you sniffled through the gradually slowing tears wetting your cold face.

“ 'wan home,” you tiredly slurred again, your mind getting slow and foggy as you laid tucked up against Natasha, your trembling muscles shaking the mattress.

Bone deep exhaustion was creeping in, the emotional and physical shock of the day's events dragging you under at last, drowning your conscience in thick darkness.

-

“-Ookie. Wake up.”

Silence.

“-gotta wake up.”

A murmur.

“Can you hear me?”

Your eyes fluttered open for a moment, blurry vision hardly able to focus on your surroundings. The only thing your sluggish mind registered was the glaring light brightening up the space you found yourself in.

“There we go. Come on, keep those eyes open.”

There was a light tap to your cheek. A warm hand settled on the skin and popped against it a couple of times until your eyes opened once more.

“Hey, look at me.”

It took you a moment to figure out what was going on. Your eyes settled on a familiar red-head who stood in front of the cot you were curled up on in nothing but your practical underwear.

Natasha was in the same state of undress, her hair in a mussed up bun. A few strands fell in her eyes when she bent over to stare down at you with observant green eyes.

“Mmh... wha'?” you mumbled, eyes blearily blinking up at the woman who scanned your face carefully.

Your cheek itched and you instinctively reached up, heavy arm fighting against exhausted muscles to scratch the itch.

“You can move, that's good,” Natasha observed and straightened back up. “Stay awake. You need to eat and drink.”

It took you a moment to understand her words and then the dramatic position you had found yourself in not long ago filtered back into your foggy thoughts.

The ice and the snow, the freezing winds tearing at your clothes. You'd fallen, unable to get back up from the frozen ground... After that, flashes of the red-head's face, her hands on your trembling body, dragging you, undressing you, holding you.

“You- you saved me,” you uttered quietly, the words clearer now that you became fully conscious.

Natasha stopped in her tracks. She had already turned her back on you, walking off towards the other end of the room, but your quiet voice made her halt. She glanced at you over her shoulder.

“Yes, I did,” she said evenly and continued her path. “You're welcome.”

You stared after her for a moment, watching as she strode across the cement floor, the glaring ceiling lights throwing her shadow on the ground, until it became too hard to keep your eyes open and you surrendered to the pull of your heavy lids.

“Didn't I tell you to keep your eyes open, rookie. I was under the impression you were good at following orders,” Natasha's voice came from right in front of you, startling your tired eyes open again.

“Sorry. I'm tired,” you mumbled and rubbed your eyes before maneuvering an arm under your body and pressing up into a more upright position. It was hard on your tired muscles and Natasha saw you straining.

She set the bowls she was holding onto the floor and reached out to hoist you into a sitting position with your back leaning against the cool wall behind you. Then she grabbed the bowls and handed you one before climbing into the bed beside you and pulling the blanket over both of you.

“Eat,” Natasha ordered curtly. She didn't shy away from physical contact despite her distant behaviour, quite the opposite. She settled close to you, her side pressed against yours. She was warmer than you, but not noticably so.

It made you realise that, for the first time since you and your partner had fled your safe house at the edge of the sleepy town, you weren't cold. You weren't shaking, your limbs weren't growing numb or stinging from the biting cold.

“Thank you,” you said quietly after having a mouthful of the hot broth steaming in the tin bowl. “For the food and... you know.”

“You're welcome. Now eat. I didn't go through all the trouble of dragging your frozen ass through the tundra just so you die of malnutrition,” the red-head said, nudging your side with her elbow without looking up from the bowl of broth she made and continued eating.

Somehow her answer didn't feel genuine, but then again, saving lives was more or less her job, so maybe she didn't expect any big displays of grattitude.

You tried to shrug it off and silently finished your food. It was tiring, holding the bowl and bringing the spoon to your lips for every bite. The ordeal in the cold had sucked every bit of energy from your body and now that you weren't actively freezing to death or delirious it hit you like a train.

You came incredibly close to losing your life. The realisation was humbling and terrifying and it filled you with so much grattitude towards your mission partner. If it wasn't for her experience in the field, her quick thinking and acting, you would be dead. Not frozen to death in the stormy tundra, no. You would've died with a bullet in your back the moment you were ambushed if it wasn't for Natasha.

Your shaky hands set the empty bowl down in your lap and you raised your gaze, properly studying the space you were in for the first time. It was a bunker, practical, bare, down to the point.

Cement floors and walls, several bunk beds jutting out from the walls, a small nook that held old kitchen appliances, a rickety set of chairs and a table. Several filing cabinets stood pushed up against the far wall to your right.

“Where are we?” you asked, hoping to keep your spiraling thoughts about your fragile existence at bay as well as wanting to fill the eerie quiet surrounding you.

“A bunker,” Natasha supplied very unhelpfully. She pushed up from the cot, pulling the blanket off her body and tucking it back around yours before taking your bowl from your lap and bringing it with her to the kitchen space.

“I.. I can see that. I know I'm a rookie, but I'm not that clueless,” you replied, somewhat irritated at her curt responses.

You thanked her for saving you and for the food. You were trying to make conversation. Why was she being so dismissive? You didn't do anything wrong.

“You almost died out in the cold if it wasn't for me. Not to mention that you lost your firearm. I'd say you're fairly clueless,” Natasha pointed out, her voice still infuriatingly even. As if she didn't care, as if you were nothing but an inconvenience for her.

You clenched your jaw, anger bubbling up beneath your skin. She wasn't being fair. You didn't ask for this. Someone made the decision for you, telling you you'd be better off as a field agent rather than wasting your talents behind a desk. None of this was your fault.

“I- This-” you started, chest puffed out and hands weakly clutching at your blanket.

“Think before you speak,” Natasha commented, leisurely washing the bowls and spoons you had used.

That did it. Your eyes bore into her back, a snarl twisting your features.

Shoving – well, in your state it was more a weak flopping of limbs – the blanket away from your body, you somehow managed to maneuver yourself to the edge of the cot and began to get up.

“Stop it! I- I didn't ask for any of this. This is my first time in the field, a decision that was made for me. They kept telling me I shouldn't waste my skills on a desk job and I was stupid enough to believe them! And look where it got me. I almost died! I could've been dead. Shot, stabbed, tortured by Hydra agents, frozen to death in the snow like some unloved pet left by an owner! It's not my fault things went sideways and I can't be blamed for not knowing better either, so stop acting like I'm some dumbass who purposely makes things difficult for you, you- urgh”

The moment you tried to push yourself up into a standing position to march over to the seemingly indifferent red-head your legs gave out beneath you. You vision swam, head pounding as your heart pumped desperately in your chest to supply your brain with enough oxygen and keep you from passing out.

Natasha was by your side in the blink of an eye. Your knees barely got the chance to touch the floor before she caught you, hands shoved under your arms to keep you from slamming into the cement floor like a sack of potatoes.

She gave a sigh, muttering something under her breath as she heaved your floppy body back onto the mattress and moved you onto your side. She drew the blanket back over your exposed body and then gripped your chin between her index and thumb.

Your vision was still a little blurry, thoughts scrambled from the sudden collapse that you probably should have anticipated considering your current state.

“Stay in bed, rookie. You're gonna get yourself killed if you keep this up,” Natasha reprimanded.

Assumingly having found what she was looking for, the red-head released your face and settled it back on the pillow.

You watched her groggily, eyes following her shape as she retrieved something from a squeaky cupboard and returned to you. It was a water bottle by the looks of it. You couldn't read the label.

Natasha opened the bottle with a swift twist of the cap and then reached behind your neck to prop your head up enough so you could drink from the bottle she held to your lips.

When she deemed that you had had enough, she pulled the bottle away and put your head back on the pillow.

You were too embarassed to speak, ashamed of your outburst and your collapse. Once again, she had to help you. You really were clueless. Not that it could be expected otherwise, seeing as this was your first mission. And it immediately went awry.

Natasha didn't say anything else either. She merely climbed back up onto the mattress, carefully climbing over your lax body and settling close behind, once again molding your two forms together.

After a while of tense silence, you let out a sigh.

“Sorry.”

Natasha merely hummed at your apology.

You began wracking your brain for more words to say, something to convince the woman that you never meant to make things difficult for her, but that you simply didn't know any better. Before any of those half-bakes sentences can make it past your lips though, Natasha begins to speak.

“It's an old soviet bunker. I know it from my days with Dreykov.”

It took you a moment to place her words, not expecting the sudden change of topic.

So that's where you were. An old soviet bunker. You could only thank the stars that it was Natasha Romanov who you had been sent out with. Anyone else might not have had this knowledge and you would've ended up dead in the snow.

“Okay... How- How did you know it was deserted?” you asked hesitantly.

“I didn't.” Natasha replied bluntly, shifting behind you to press closer. You knew it was only to keep your body temperature up and steady after the hypothermia, but you couldn't help but take comfort from the action.

“But- What would you have done if there were people here? Armed people?” you wondered, images of bloody scenes flashing before your eyes. You shuddered, head dipping down and body nestling back against Natasha's firm one.

“I would've killed them.”

That gave you a pause.

“You- you would've... of course you would,” you stuttered and then gave up with a huff. You didn't know what you expected.

“You're my responsibilty, rookie. I don't like to see colleagues dying on the job,´not if I can help it,” Natasha said. She lifted the arm she'd kept on her hip over your waist, settling her hand on your soft tummy just the way she had done when she climbed onto the cot last time. “Especially not sweet ones like you.”

Your stomach squeezed strangely at the unexpected compliment, a giddy kind of feeling bubbling up in your overtired mind.

“What? I'm not- not sweet,” you deflected, flustered and confused. She was being so steely before and now she complimented you out of nowhere.

“You are. And green behind the ears like no other,” Natasha said matter of factly, causing you to pout a little.

Yes, you didn't have experience, but according to your trainers and superiors you had at least some skill, otherwise they wouldn't have sent you out in the field. Still something you deeply regretted not turning down.

“I usually don't take new recruits on missions. I either work alone or have an experienced agent of my choosing with me. Most of the time Barton, if he's available,” the woman added.

You frowned. Was she regretting this mission? Regretting that she had given it a try to go out on a job with someone less experienced and steady?

“But... why did they send me with you then? They should know you don't work with noobs like me and reagrding your stature in the Agency... Well, I'd like to think they respect your wishes,” you mumbled.

“Oh, they do. I asked for you as my partner. It would've been an uneventful solo mission, so taking you to show you the ropes seemed sensible,” the red-head revealed.

Her words made you stop. She'd requested you as her partner when she could've easily done this by herself without any complications? You didn't get it.

The Black Widow, a former KGB agent and most feared assassin, wasn't known for such niceties. What could have possibly made her think you were worth her time?

Thankfully, Natasha didn't let your thoughts spiral too far.

“I knew the moment I laid eyes on you during your training that the field wasn't your place. You are good, yes. In a controlled environment. But out here, away from shooting ranges and bullet-proof vests? You hesitate. You think too much and it will get you killed. So I made sure that wouldn't happen and that, after all this, you can go back and start that desk job you applied for,” she concluded.

There were countless questions swirling through your head, each one fighting to be ask first.

“Does that make me less?” was the question spilling forth before any of the others.

Natasha sighed. She shifted behind you, legs pressing closer to yours.

“Some would think so. But it doesn't,” she said. For a moment you thought that was it, but after a short silence the red-head kept going.

“There's a reason we all have our strengths and weaknesses. Every job needs doing, no matter how inconsequential it might seem. If not for cleaners and refuse collectors, who would keep our streets and public spaces clean? They are just as fundamentally important to our life in society as any politician or police officer. The same goes for you. We need people out in the field, but without the people behind the desks, directing them, gathering information, finding new sources and uncovering secrets, they would be lost.”

Her words stunned you. They came unexpected. You thought highly of Natasha Romanov, but she always seemed untouchable, so above everything else. It surprised you that she had such on open view of the world. So many active duty agents that you had met in your short time at Shield constantly frowned upon and made jokes about their stationary colleagues who sat behind desks, organised meetings and collected information.

“That... That's a very nice way of looking at things,” you replied eventually.

Once more the red-head only gave a hum. It made you feel like you had overstayed your welcome by asking questions she had to obligation to answer. Then again, she did say she chose you to come on a mission with her, so...

Yes, so what? What was her reasoning for that? She said she knew you weren't fit for the job when she saw you at training. But what does that mean? Why didn't she just report her opinion to someone in charge and spared you all this hassle? Why did she care at all?

“Why me? Why do you care what happens to me?” you blurted out, unable to hold back the burning question that plagued your mind.

“I see a lot and I hear a lot,” Natasha replied cryptically, before continuing in clearer terms. “It is part of the profession. And sometimes, when I see something, I decide that I want to see more. To know more, hear more, learn more. And when I saw you, well, I wanted to do exactly that. To follow the intrigue and see what hid behind it.”

“But I'm not very intrigung, am I?” you deflected nervously.

“Hm, to me you are. You're sweet. Would be a shame for you to be gone before I ever got the chance to have a proper conversation with you, don't you think?”

You found it strange that they were sending you with the Black Widow on your very first mission. It was even stranger that besides a stake out here and there, much of your time was spent with her in close quarters doing not much of anything. Well, before things went sideways, anyway.

It couldn't be that the woman behind you chose you simply for selfish reasons? To get to know you and watch you up close?

'I'm going mad' you thought to yourself, your still sluggish head unable to wrap around the truth that was slowly being revealed piece by piece.

A squeeze around your middle brought you back to the present moment.

“Don't worry you pretty little head about it, rookie. I already contacted Fury when you were sleeping. The communication systems down here are outdated, but I made it work. They are sending an extraction team for us and backup to sniff out where Hydra is hiding. Soon, we'll be back and then you have all the time in the world to figure this out,” Natasha said, the slightest bit of a teasig undertone to her voice.

“Until then, sleep. You need it and I need you to make a full recovery,” she added at last.

You wanted to say more, protest that you weren't tired and wanted to figure out what she was so intriguingly hinting at, but your body agreed with Natasha's statement.

A shuddered jawn tumbled out of your mouth and you could already feel your eyes fluttering shut despite your efforts to keep them open.

A soft humming sound came from behind you, helping you drift off to sleep until the last thing you remembered was a rough hand softly stroking your skin until you fell asleep.

...

There we go! A little late, but I managed after all! Cuddling for warmth is such a weakness of mine, especially when it is with my favourite Agent and Partner in crime Natasha Romanov 😌😇 I'd let her cuddle me day and night. I'm very squishy and soft, so perfect for snuggling! 🥺🥰

I really appreciate being allowed to submit this late 😅😳 and I hope you enjoy this angsty detour into the icy, nothern territories that, even in summer, are cold and unforgiving ❄️🤍

#natasha romanov #natasha romanov x reader #natasha romanov fic #angst #smidge of fluff #hurt/comfort #cuddling for warmth #delicious cliché #oneshot #writing challenge #christmas in july #navy and roo's sleepover

[boasamishipper]

i don’t want what alan shore and denny crane have but by god does it fascinate me

#boston legal #denny crane #alan shore #i want to study them in a jar separately and individually #they have sleepovers and toast to their friendship on a balcony every night and hold hands and love each other and even say so #and they’re both insane and cunty in very complementary ways #as a christmas present alan let denny smell him #house and wilson WISH they had what these two have

[sogirrrrrl]

you are invited to my sleepover 🌙

#aesthetic #moodboard #gilmore girls #sleepover #girly pink #pretty girls #girlhood #girlblogging #tumblr girls #christmas #winter #date night #coquette #waif chic #current mood #crochet #cats #cozy living #cozy vibes #slow living

[dxncingwithastrxnger]

may your days be merry and bright (Jughead x Reader)

A/N: Tada!!! My very first Juggy fic!! This one, as well as the other Riverdale fics I'll be posting today and tomorrow, was requested by my amazing best friend, @the-ancient-fae!!! Roxy, here is your first of many stories, I hope you enjoy it!! I know this isn't the longest, but I hope the actual content makes up for it!! I hope everyone else who reads this enjoys it as well!!!

Pairing(s): Husband!Jughead x GN!Reader (Pronouns not specificed)

Prompts: "someone ate santa's cookies last night and it wasn't me" + Christmas baking from my Christmas Sleepover post

Tag(s): All fluff!! Mentions of kids

Word Count: 321

Song Inspiration: White Christmas By Bing Crosby

Not beta'd, all mistakes are my own.

~*~

“Someone ate all of Santa’s cookies last night. And it wasn’t me.” 

You jolt guiltily and freeze, half of a cookie hanging out of your mouth. You stay where you are, facing away from him, your lips turning up slightly.

Jughead comes up behind you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder as he leans forward to look at your face, snatching the rest of the cookie away from you and popping it into his own mouth instead.

You gasp and immediately pout as he chuckles and walks over to the fridge. “I thought we agreed that I would be playing the role of Santa this year?” He questions with a raised eyebrow sent your way.

“I woke up in the middle of the night and got hungry.” You tell him defensively.

Your husband snickers as he gets out the orange juice. “I didn’t realize that means you get to steal my cookies.” The look in his eyes is amused and not at all truly upset, and you relax a little bit.

“Well, to make it up to you,” You walk over to the fridge right before he closes it and pull out a large bowl filled with cookie dough. “I decided to make some more so that you can have your cookies after all.” You tell him matter-of-factly with a smile.

He chuckles softly and kisses your temple. “Well, look at that. You make the cookies and I make breakfast?” He asks.

You nod happily. “Sounds like a plan!” You look at the clock on the wall of the kitchen. “I’d say we have about 60-90 minutes before the kids wake up, so that tells you what you have the time to make.”

“I better get to it, then.”

The two of you spend the next hour and a half making breakfast and sweet treats for your little family, basking in the joy of a warm and cozy Christmas morning.

~*~

A/N: How was it?? Please, tell me what you think, I'd love to know!!! Thank you sm for reading!!!!

#purple_strxnger #purple_strxnger_stories #riverdale #jughead #jughead jones #riverdale jughead #jughead x reader #jughead jones x reader #jughead x male reader #jughead x female reader #jughead x gender neutral reader #jughead x gn reader #christmas sleepover #christmas fic #christmas jughead fic #jughead au #riverdale fic #riverdale drabble #drabble #christmas drabble #riverdale fanfic #riverdale au

[bun-bun-selfships]

Me? Depressed about the fact that I’m too depressed to be in the Christmas spirit? And imagining Tinker giving me a whole long sappy pep talk about it? Yes. Absolutely.

#i actually was thinking about having a sleepover with the elves #the idea of making a big fort in one of our rooms #putting on Christmas movies as background noise #and talking and talking and talking #yeah <3 #🧸

[blackbat05]

A Christmas Miracle

Jason Todd x Reader

Plot: After being dealt with a bad hand, you wonder if you could finish the year peacefully. Or would there be a Christmas Miracle?

Genre: PG-13 (Mentions of death), comfort fic

A/N: Decided to participate in @the-slumberparty EOY event and get back into writing here! This piece does act as an outlet for me and this is me praying for a better year. Anyways, hope you enjoyed my piece after a long while!❤️

Nice Prompts in Bold☺️

***

If it was any other day, I probably would have stayed far away from the bar and the music that would make any normal human being deaf with all that blasting.

But not today.

Because today was a shitty day.

No. Scratch that. This was a shitty year. I could even go out on a whim and say that it could give 2020 a run for their money. I was on my second bottle of soju, not giving a damn at the concerned look the bartender was giving me. Some creep tried to get close but I just weren't having it - I swore I saw a stain on his pants as he scurried away from my murderous glare.

"Tough day?"

I rolled your eyes, preparing to give the unsuspecting stranger a piece of my mind. "Jason?"

Jason Todd, my childhood friend and partner-in-crime takes a seat across me. He signals to the bartender over the Christmas music for another tiny glass and soju. "It's been a while."

"You're not going to stop me?"

"And miss out on a drink? No way." Jason scoffs. "Now, why are you drinking like there's no tomorrow?"

I want to tell him. How I left my perfectly stable job because I was being ostracized. How my family supported me but insinuated that I should have done more - be more approachable, more likable, more friendly. How a few days after my graduation, my grandmother who was the only living grandparent to watch me grow up since I was a toddler passed away suddenly.

How I was so ridden with guilt that I couldn't do anything more.

But as I opened my mouth, I hear a small voice in my head.

You'll just be burdening others, like how you always do.

"I'm fine." I dismissed Jason's worries away. Maybe I could have done a better job about it as he does not look the least convinced. I cut him off before he can ask anything else.

"You're here to drink with me. So drink." I uncap the new bottle, pouring him a glass.

I can feel Jason's gaze bearing into my forehead.

***

The next thing I feel is the soft fabric of my sofa. Jason lays me down gently before heading to the kitchen to get a glass of water. I hear the sound of my air fryer being switched on.

"I made you some fries. Oily food always helped with hangovers back when we were in college." He chuckles, passing me the glass. I drink the water in one go, gasping for air once I was finished. The smell of fried food and being hydrated helped me to become sober again.

Jason's shuffling around the kitchen, getting the necessary utensils. But I know he's giving me space. That's what I always loved about him. He never pushed unless you decided to tell him yourself. Even when I had a big fight with my parents, he kept silent, providing a much needed listening ear.

"Hey, Jay?"

"Mm?"

"I left my job." I know this wasn't the best way to start a conversation but it had to be out in the open sooner than later. "Gran died." My lips wobble and my vision starts to become blurry simply just uttering those few words.

"I feel like crap."

Jason sits beside you and his sea green eyes provide a source of comfort in the mess that I'm drowning in.

"And you can feel sad about it."

I burst into tears. The thread that I've conjured in mid air to sew my heart back together snaps and I can't hold back. My sobs are raw and primal till the point that I wished that the soju wiped me out unconscious instead.

The only difference from all the other times I wallowed in my grief and self-pity was the man in front of me who has his arms tightly wrapped around me, gently rubbing my back.

"It'll be okay. I'm here." He repeats softly.

And what a difference it was.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be stupid."

"No." Jason carefully pries me away and looks me in the eye. "I'm sorry I wasn't there. If I had known, I wouldn't have gone with Dick on that stupid mission."

I frown. The mission that he was referring to was a Black Ops mission, infiltrating what Dick and him suspected to be a child trafficking ring ran by the Court of Owls. I knew how much this mission meant to Jason on a personal level.

"Don't say that. As much as it pains me to say, but no one knew that Gran was going to go so suddenly."

"You don't get it," Jason says with a certain hardness that takes you aback. "She was family to me too. I had so many things I wanted to tell her." He sighs, hands clasped tightly.

"Like how I wanna be more than friends with you."

"What? I don't-"

Jason smiles sadly. "When you left your job, Gran was sad to see that you lost your spark. Back then, I did ask her for advice and she told me that either way, I should have told you how I felt. She said that you would have said yes. But I felt that I would have been a jerk to lay that on you while you were struggling." Jason sighs. "I guess Gran could see it better than the both of us."

Even in the afterlife, Gran was still looking out for me.

"She would have smacked you upside on the head if she was here."

Jason lets out a bark of laughter and you join him with your tear stained face. "She definitely would."

"So, does your feelings still stand?"

It's Jason's turn to blink in confusion before breaking out into a big smile. "That is if you'll have me."

I lean in to kiss him. "Of course you big goof. Now that you told me all of this, you're never going to get rid of me." I tackle him to the sofa and we end up in a giggling mess.

Jason reaches up to give a kiss of his own and deepens it till I'm left breathless and spinning with ecstasy. I snuggle into Jason, his warm and comforting presence enough to make me forget about my woes.

"That's good. Because I plan to be with you in both good and bad days."

#jason todd x reader #jason todd comfort #jason todd #navy and roo's sleepover #end of year challenge #december #writing challenge #christmas fanfic #christmas

[glass-trash-bab]

Someone stop me from buying The Case of the Golden Idol, my pc can't handle it

#the secret sleepover society vods of their playthrough is one of my comfort videos #and im just now learning there are 2 dlcs. and oh boy i wanna play them #my pc cant handle it and i dont think my bank account can handle it either #but. i wanna play it so bad #might just fucking do it. but i have a fuck ton of other shit to do #yall dont even know how many other projects ive started #i think I'll just get it anyway. fuck it. merry christmas to me

[drinkcrywrite]

can anyone else believe that season 3 actually exists? like the writer's just walked up and said we're going to create a storyline that is so family-shaped, and then just whacked us in the face with it from open to close

#911 fox #tv: 911 #buckley diaz fam #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #the bff card #'his buck' #the tsunami #'do you even know how much christopher misses you?' #'i forgive you' #gingerbread houses and christmas at the firehoue #the well #'that won't happen to us' 'better not' #sleepover camp and 'what if he gets homesick?' #'abby. his fiancée's abby' #'you okay?' #family photos

[bradleybeachbabe]

winter/christmas blurb sleepover!!

hi everyone <3 i have decided to do a winter/christmas themed blurb sleepover! i did one last year, so i wanted to do one for this year! also i know i tend to lots of blurb nights, but i just love doing them :)

rules/information:

as long as this post is pinned, you are welcome to send requests but as soon as it is unpinned, please refrain from sending more

please send all of the requests to my ask box

if you don’t want to use a prompt from below, you can always send in your own concept/scenario. i’m totally okay with that!

prompt lists:

list a

list b

list c

list d

list e

list f

characters who i’m taking requests for my blurb night/sleepover:

evan ‘buck’ buckley

edmundo ‘eddie’ diaz

cowboy!eddie diaz

rafe cameron

topper thornton

tim bradford

rip wheeler

kayce dutton

jake ‘hangman’ seresin

natasha ‘phoenix’ trace

kiara carrera

sarah cameron

tagging some lovely moots to start off this blurb night!! @sarahsmi13s @auroralightsthesky @spnshortcake @annab-nana @lovinglyeternal @lavenderbradshaw @mamachasesmayhem @katsu28 @fiction-is-life @goldenroutledge @bobby-r2d2-floyd @hangmansgbaby @desert-fern @startrekfangirl2233 @teacupsandtopgun @horseshoegirl @sebsxphia @callmemana

#rachel’s winter/christmas blurb sleepover #signal boost if you want!! #evan buckley #evan ‘buck’ buckley #eddie diaz #911 #911 fandom #topper thornton #rafe cameron #outer banks #tim bradford #rip wheeler #kayce dutton #jake seresin #natasha trace #top gun maverick #kiara carrera #sarah cameron #yellowstone #the rookie