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wheretheharekissesthefox · 6 months

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Tav's sex parade – Chapter 4: Where the sun kisses the sea (Gale x Tav)

(Trigger warning (18+): graphic description of sex, smut, gentle slow sex, coitus a tergo, fluff, the feels)

To avoid confusion: In one of my other fanfics Halsin and Tav had named the owlbear cup Naïlo, which means 'night breeze' in the Elven language.

Karlach’s and Wyll’s faith and Tav’s promise to them are based on one of my other fics.

Tav sat in the middle of Gale’s living room, cross-legged, strumming her lute, surrounded by papers and ink. She faced the open double-door window which led onto the small terrace, towards the sea. The evening sun shone right through the window, bathing the room in golden light. Tara, Scratch and Naïlo were resting on the carpet and pillows, listening to Tav's warm voice. She sang uncharacteristically high-pitched and softly.

"Down, down by the river,

where the ancient trees shiver,

are sleepy bears and night orchids in caves.

Ruby-red diamonds and purple waves

swirl farther down into water, deep,

where the winged beasts sleep."

Smiling, Gale lingered in the doorframe, not wanting to disturb his beloved's streak of creativity. He'd read and dabbled enough in poetry to understand the symbolism of her lyrics.

Tav stopped singing, but kept humming the melody that reminded him of a lullaby.

"Fire, fire, desire, hmm... Blade... shade? Hells, bells. Metal heart... part, apart..."

The bard stopped mumbling and frowned at her ink-smeared notes.

"Metal heart, forged in fire, found the blade of her desire?" Gale suggested after a moment of silence.

Tav turned around with a smile.

"Not bad. Maybe I'll use it. Thanks for the input."

She quickly scribbled it down. Gale finally walked closer and remarked: "It's wonderful to see you compose again. I missed watching you weave your own kind of magic."

"Mh, poetic as always, love," Tav smirked. "I thought while you and Astarion work through every single book in Waterdeep, Shadowheart helps your mother with her clients, and Halsin does his part to search for answers, I can make myself useful otherwise. You all keep your noses to the grindstone to find a way to get Karlach and Wyll out of Avernus, meanwhile, I go and make some money. We could use it, to be honest."

"You don't have to do this, if you don't want to," Gale told her.

"That's sweet, but I want to pull my weight. As you know, I taught myself to read and write, and I'm still very slow at reading. 'So slow that the bookworms eat away the paper in front of my eyes', as you've put it so politely."

Ashamed, Gale lowered his gaze.

"I'm sorry, that had been tactless of me. I shouldn't have said it."

"Well," she replied, with a shrug. "It's true at least. Thus, I'll do what I can do best: sing and perform. I miss it, honestly; the crude tavern goers, the passed-out drunkards, the strongly-perfumed working girls, the ill-tempered tavern keepers... I had quite the life before I've met you and got all boring and tame."

At that, Gale barked a laugh.

"You and tame? That fits as well together as oil and water! Don't worry, you definitely didn't lose your spark."

"Good," Tav grinned. She got up to kiss and hug him. Then, she looked at him mischievously. "I might need a reminder of my wild side."

Gale glanced towards the animals and cleared his throat. Tara snickered and herded the dog and the owlbear out of the living room.

"Thank you, Tara. You're a gem."

"I'd prefer if you'd show your gratitude with a big plate of Beholder jerky instead of polite words, Mister Dekarios," the tressym teased.

Gale bit his lip to keep himself from laughing.

"Of course, Tara. I'll remind 'Mister Dekarios' tomorrow morning," Tav filled in for him, amused.

The tressym let out a satisfied purr before pushing the door close, and Tav chuckled.

"Tara's rather handy. I know why you love her so much."

"Hm," smirked the addressed.

He leaned down to kiss the bard again and she wrapped her arms around him.

"I have an idea," Tav all but purred.

"I'm scared," Gale smiled.

She snorted a laugh and kissed him again. Then, she got up on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear.

"I want you to take me on the terrace. I want to do it while the sun goes down and witnesses our act of passion."

The wizard turned crimson, spluttering: "You want to do it out there?! Where everyone can see us?"

"Yes," grinned Tav. "I want to overlook the water while you take me from behind."

"Gods..." Gale wanted to hide somewhere. "That's rather... feral."

The bard grinned devilishly while playing with his hair.

"As I said; I need a reminder that I'm not boring and tame."

"I see why you get along so well with our druid," the wizard muttered. "Holy..."

Tav put on her best show, fluttering her lashes at him with a pout.

"You don't want to? I'm devastated."

"You don't look devastated," Gale retorted amused. "You look like the cat that got the canary."

"Do I get the canary?" Tav smirked and Gale sighed.

"I'm not sure. Doing it from behind... I can't see your face that way and it feels impersonal."

"Are you truly worried about this? We know each other for a year now, and I trust you – in and out of the bedroom. You said it yourself; there are infinite ways to be intimate. So, why not this way too?"

"Alright, let's try this. Anything for my insufferable bard, I guess."

He kissed her again before they moved onto the terrace. Tav leaned her back against the wooden railing, pulled Gale into another kiss, and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"You stole my lavender soap again," he remarked, no heat behind it.

"I just borrowed it – as always," she replied cheekily.

"Mhm. 'Borrowed'."

"Stop complaining and take your pants off. If we wait any longer, the sun will be gone."

Gale sighed, but took a step back to doff his trousers and underwear. Tav did the same, kicking everything into the living room carelessly.

"Come here."

She pulled him into another kiss. This time, it was much sloppier and less tender. The bard turned around, gripped the railing of the terrace, and spread her legs wider.

"Gods... look at you," Gale muttered, flustered. "Do you have no shame?"

"No. Not when I want something. And what I want now, is you in me. So hurry up. Please."

Gale had mercy on her (and himself, let's be honest here), crowded in on her, kissed her neck, and entered her slowly. Tav arched her back into it, panting. The wizard placed his hands on hers and buried his face in the side of her neck, breathing right into her ear. The bard shuddered, it was perfect. Gale's thrusts were slow but deep and precise. He knew how to make it good for her. Tav moaned and tilted her head more to the side to give him more space to kiss her and pant into her ear, while they watched the glary, red sun vanish behind the sea.

"Where's your infamous verbosity now?" Gale asked lowly. "Tell me what you see, in all your flowery words."

Tav moaned and tried her damn best to articulate the scenery.

"I- ah! I see how the sun kisses the sea. The sun... ngh... sinks into the sea, gently like a mh... lover. I see how... ah... flaming red... makes love... to blue to create... purple. Aah... Gale... please."

The addressed hummed and used his elegant, deftly fingers to massage her clitoris. Moaning, Tav dropped her head between her arms and arched her back more, pushing her buttocks into her partner's lap who's breath hitched.

"F- fuck! Please!" the bard sobbed, desperate for release. Panting, Gale leaned his head against her shoulder, flicked his wrist over her pubic mound, and climaxed with a guttural moan. He didn't stop moving his fingers though and shortly after, Tav followed him over the edge noisily. They stayed where they were, panting into the young night. The sky had turn light-blue and the first stars were visible.

Tav sighed and twisted her torso around to kiss Gale gently. He slowly pulled out so that she was able to face him fully.

"You were never this loud before," Tav remarked.

"I'm not the noisy type," Gale answered.

"But you were today. Why? Was it the semi-public setting that turned you on?"

"No! It just felt... I don't know... more intense? I've never - hm. I've never took anyone from behind before."

"And you liked it that much?"

"I don't know. Maybe," Gale muttered, slightly uncomfortable.

"Well..." Tav sighed and pulled him into a hug. "I liked it too. It was really nice. Something else for once. We can do it again if you wish."

"I'd like that," Gale admitted and blushed.

"Great," Tav smiled and kissed him again.

The cool evening breeze from the sea caressed them while they stood on the terrace and kept kissing each other tenderly.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #fanfic #gale x tav #gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #tav #tara #tara the tressym #scratch #owlbear cup #naïlo #smut #mind the trigger warning

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tassodelmiele · 3 days

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Noisy little mess

Hi sweetie ⁓

I'm actually surprised someone appreciated my little attempt.

I'm jiggling happily, even though you can't see.

Also, I'm unexpectedly enjoying writing in english, so as long as whatever I'm goddamn studying will let me, I'll keep on with this experiment.

I hope you like it!

Also forgive me again for any mistakes, english has too many consonants that are not pronounced and I mess up every time

DISCLAIMERS: no smut (sowwy) just some recollection of dirty moments, GhostxReader and Soap and Gaz 'cause finally they're throw into this mess, arguing (again), the gnome-nickname thing, blame shifting (again), how-not-to-do-training, ignoring doctor's advices, insubordination and yells ('cause me too i yell like an eagle when i'm angry), mask covering embarrassment

..................................................

Second part here:

................................................

And you do. You ask. And you shouldn't have.

«Of fucking course we noticed. It was like ye were constantly overwhelmed by…i don't know what, i've not a degree in women's hormones»

Johnny sips his morning coffee with nonchalance, while Gaz nods, sitting in front of the two of you.

You're almost gonna faint.

«And…and why the hell none have told me-»

«Oh, sure lassie, and how do ye think ye would have taken the news? "Hey dall, you know that ye're almost dripping from your panties?"»

Gaz throws a towel at him, but he agrees with another nod.

«Speak as you eat> he scolds him, then he turns at you: <he's right, though. You've acted weird the whole two last days. Why are you asking?»

You bury your head in your hands, swallowing breakfast as it is dry sand in your throat.

«…nevermind. I'm just sorry at this point»

«There's no use lassie, we know ye» Soap's arm surrounds you, squeezing away a little bit of the anguish. «And ye'r not the only girl at the base, ya know? It happens»

«Seriously?»

«'F course»

«…my god. So now you know the period calendar of every female being at the base?»

«Kinda»

«…mh»

«Is he bothering you?»

You look at Gaz. He seems concerned and curious, and you don't really want him to be none of that. You don't know what to answer anyway, and reply arrives with ten seconds of delay:

«…he?»

«Ghost»

You shiver instinctively. And you know for sure that Johnny has felt you, but you shake your head like hell, pretending vigorously that you don't even know what Gaz's talking about.

«Why?»

«We've seen him around you a lot. And he could be demanding when someone's not giving his best at training. And…»

«…ye'r clearly not doing it» Soap ends the sentence with a teasing smile.

You answer with a pout, flexing your muscles.

«That's totally untrue. I'm always at my best»

«Raise your levels than, since i think he's ready to squeeze you like a lemon today»

It seems like Gaz 's talking really philosophically this morning. You raise an eyebrow at him, then follow his gaze behind you.

And you gulp, seeing a big, dark figure walking toward the table.

You swallow an oatmeal crumb, risking choking on yourself. Then a firm, strong grip holds your shoulder, making your bones crack like they're made out of crackers.

Ghost's voice hits you like a truck.

«I was wondering what could've made you late for the training». He glares at you from the top. «Breakfast. Of fucking course»

You hear the light laugh of Soap and Gaz, who're apparently taking the Lt.'s threatening as a funny joke. You're not. You're shivering, swallowing hot air, lowering your eyes deeper and deeper in the oatmeal. Your heart skips a beat as he tightens his hold on you.

«You have one minute»

And you swallow a "yes sir" in a breath.

Today is not your day. Not at all.

You've already noticed it, but it is clearer now that you're in the middle of the training field, with everyone's eyes on you, while your Lt. (who's fingered you, like, two days ago) has just chosen you for fight practice.

You're sweating like hell, taking deep breaths. You're already drained, even if everything you've done till now is just tryna not to be touched by his fists; and he's trying to knock you out with way more diligence than you've thought.

You're dodging, your legs tremble at every sudden jerk you make to avoid crushing your nose on his fists, and the tactic seems to be working till he reaches your leg with a kick. You fall on your back, hitting your head on the ground like an idiot, and he's on you in a blink of an eye, squeezing your wrist in one hand and your throat in the other.

You panic.

And the tiniest of the whines break on your lips.

He squeezed harder all of a sudden, gripping your throat with full strength, gazing at you with a strange, really odd sight. Like he's annoyed, angry and aroused at the same time.

He lets you go, and you start to cough, with your throat bruised and your head and lungs hurting. You glare at him, and he does the same.

He spits out a cold: «what?» as if he's throwing an ice cubes bucket at you.

«Is not that fair» you don't fear to answer honestly, even if you're voice is being squeezed out of your lungs «fighting with a girl who's 30 cm smaller than you»

«Oh, my bad. And, out of curiosity…» he lowered his face down to you, pinning you to the ground with just his sight «what are you planning to do if you'll face an enemy my size?»

«Shot at him»

«Good one, gnome. But you're disarmed by now»

«…run, then. Hide, i dunno. There's no point in start a fight that's lost from the beginning»

And he smile. You know he's smiling, part 'cause the others rookies surrounding you are watching in total silence as they're afraid he might choose one of them to break their bones (and he might); and part 'cause he knows he's in control.

He suddenly breath, sharp like a knife: «than, run»

You stare at him.

He's joking…right?

No.

He's not.

And you understand it as he stands up in all of his height, grabbing you by the arm and lifting your weight as if it's nothing. You stumble on your feet, breath still scattered, and again he glares at you, shouting a clearer:

«Run»

Your legs move by themselves.

You find yourself running like hell throughout the training field, clearly feeling his presence behind you, and you know how goddamn fast he is. You skip through other training groups. slipping between obstacles, your eyes fixed in front of you and your lungs about to explode. You keep going for what's like an eternity, and when you think you're doing it…

a firm grip holds you by the arm. Your body is forced to stop so suddenly that your breath is broken under the pressure of an opposite force throwing you on the ground. Your spine is smashed on the field, lungs are shaking and throbbing in your ribcage and, as you turn over on your stomach to try and get up again, he just kicks you in the back, grabbing your arm and pin it behind you so tight, rotating it with a lot of strength.

Too much strength,

And you yell like an eagle, feeling the nerve in your elbow cry as it turns on itself.

«Ulnar nerve compression»

Doc is so professional in front of you two, who, on the other hand, seems like a cat and its owner at the vet after a bad fight.

Ghost is clearly embarrassed. He's trying to be professional and stern, but he can't even face your gaze, which is ice-cold. You're sitting next to him, your arm bandaged just as much as it is needed to make sure you don't move it, and you're trying to squeeze a laser beam out of your eyes and make your lieutenant into a strainer.

What in the actual fuck

«Do not move it for a day. It is better for you to make it rest, otherwise you can make other damages. And» doctor gaze at Ghost under his little round glasses «please, be more careful with the training»

It seems like he would like to add something (it's the third time in a month Ghost nearly breaks someone's body part just for training), but the doctor just sighs. He let you two get out of the infirmary, and as soon as you're alone in the corridor Ghost collect his breath to shout a not so convinced:

«…i'm sorry»

But this time you're ready.

«No. No, you're not»

«I am»

«You're just amused»

He stops, looking at you while you walk away in all of your 165 cm of glory and stillness. Then he reaches you again, not daring to touch any part of your body since he's already done enough damage.

«What does that even mean?»

«It means that you enjoy being able to crush whoever you want with bare hands»

«Like 's something the others don't enjoy»

«Not in that way». You raise your bandaged arm, hissing a painful breath. «We were training! Why couldn't we just do it normally?»

«Fight practice is normal, gnome»

«Not like that! My elbow had turned fucking purple!»

«You could've just run faster»

You stop. Your face jerks toward him, glaring at his goddamn mask like you're gonna spit fire from your mouth, and you have to look like a crazy owl since he doesn't seem to be frightened.

«Look» you start, restraining yourself from yelling «I'm not the best soldier, but I've never had problems with any of my superiors, i do my work and i don't act like a pussy. But I'm human. Ok? H-u-m-a-n»

«Seems like you know your limits»

«Of course i do, that's why-»

«You could've just told me to stop»

«Why me?!» you suddenly hiss through your teeth, looking desperately at the man who seems to enjoy your incoming aneurysm. «We…we used to eat the same breakfast, laughing with your team, speaking about cats in the morning…why have you started to play this goddamn game with me?? What has changed in two days?»

«You»

He breathes the answer like it is obvious, and your brain glitch for a second.

«…what?»

«You've changed»

«Are you joking with me? What-how would i…»

Then you start connecting dots. Your gaze meets him again, piercing his mask.

«…is it because of that night? Is it still because of my goddamn moaning?»

And you know he's embarrassed.

You know it, since he doesn't know where to put his hands, and how to look properly at you. He rushes to speak again, choking the sudden loss of words in a stern: «I've already explained: it's your behavior»

«Seriously? You can't go forward? Did it seriously hit you that bad?»

«Don't» and he gives back the piercing-sight «play with me, gnome. Watch your fucking mouth»

«I've literally done nothing»

«You breath»

You raise your eyebrows, charge your voice and blow your cheeks: «oh, i'm so sorry if i function like a human being!»

«Is how you do it, you stupid little-»

«Oh no, don't you dare try to-»

«To what?»

«To put the blame on me!»

«Well i can't do that much 'bout it!»

Voices are lowering a little too much outside the infirmary. You stop your feet, turn again at him and stare at his glare with arms crossed, ready to scold your superior (even if it is the most stupid thing to do)...

but you shut.

He's a few steps away from you, eyes down on the floor and head a little titled. Your jaw dropped a little.

«…are you flustered?»

You can clearly see his brain snapping at light fast. And you know well how better it is for you to shut, pretend nothing happened and go away on your feet (till you've got functioning legs), but you can't do much about how fast your mouth opens, and your voice starts to come dangerously out in a whispered:

«Am i really turning you on?»

....................................................

#fanfiction #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #cod fanfic #ghost x you #Yes i write something about Simon Riley getting flustered #But there are no evidences we can cover everything in mud #Also i didn't realize till now that Johnny Soap McTavish drinks coffee in the morning #Not like the other english whatever who inject tea in their veins #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #I'm having so much fun writing arguments #Too much dialogues #I'm sorry #No i'm not #Do men really care about menstruations?#part 3

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greypetrel · 8 months

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8, 10, 35, and 47 if they haven't been asked yet! 💗

Hi Mo! ✨

Tis the prompt list

8. Do you prefer the beginning, middle, or end of a story?

Oh this is nice!

Mh, as a reader, I tend to prefer the end. In sagas of more than one book/movie, I noticed that usually my favourites are always the ending ones. (Return of the King, Crooked Kingdom, Ptolemy's Gate, Revenge of the SIth... The notable exception is Hunger Games FINNICK and His Dark Materials -for which I can't choose one, but I'm not starting to talk about Philip Pullman or we'll end this ask in a month's time).

As a writer... I'll tell you when I'll have actually finished one fic, LOL. But I think the end would be an answer for all that. I like the sense of closure of a well told story, when push comes to shove and everything falls into place.

10. Cltr+f "blinks" on your WIP & copy paste the first sentence/paragraph that comes up

Pretty disappointingly answered here!

35. What is one essential thing to remember when writing a villain?

For me it's the reason they act. Give them some relatability.

A teeny, tiny bit of reason that you can see they act upon, and they twisted to make it unacceptable.

I don't like villains with nothing at stake, that just act because they're evil. The example I can think about is Doctor Strange. The villain wants to conquer the Earth because they desire it above everything else. Why they desire it? Why in the multiverse and in an infinity of planets they particularly want EARTH? WHY, MOVIE? I liked that movie, but that thing made me roll my eyes inside my head twice in a row. I won't talk about Star Wars episode IX that episode never existed and it can't hurt me.(Joking, I'm really happy if you enjoyed episode IX, for me it was everything I didn't want to see unfortunately, I liked Kylo Ren as a villain A LOT.)

It shouldn't mean that villains should be justified for acting out of ethics and morality, no. But just knowing why they are doing what they can, without excusing what they do is the bare minimum.

Also, keep them a constant threat looming over the horizon. Make them limit your characters' moves and actions. Make them felt, even if they're not visible. But this is the Tolkien fan speaking. (but isn't it wonderful how Sauron never appears in LOTR -books- and you still can sense him looming around?)

47. How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

At least two.

One to check if the structure and pacing is ok or if I need to move some scenes around or expand them (it happened in chapters 27 and 28 in Monster Fic. Initially they were one. I realised something was off and decided to pull whatever got in chapter 28 in a new one, expanding some things better, adding others.)

There's one revision every time I change/move around something, just to check if everything flows.

Then another one for grammar, spelling and so on, and to add html for AO3 if needed.

And another one when it's posted just to check, which usually brings out more mistakes I didn't notice, ends up in me rushing to correct it and hope I was quicker than any reader. xP

#petrel replies #fic writer ask #I could hold a TED talk on His Dark Materials #the title would be “It is NOT children literature”#Also I realised I want to reread the Bartimeus trilogy :<

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howfarwillitcarryyou · 6 months

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abt me post time

hey hi hello this is a blog for "as far as it takes"—the marble hornets + slender: the arrival crossover au fic i've been writing in my head since like middle school that i am Finally starting to Actually Write (and also just my place for sle.nder.v.erse related things in general)

here's the official link

prom/mae (you can call me either, it’s fine)

i’m 22

they/them

also: this is a sideblog, i follow from @promof1976

also also: the general “if you’re a zionist, terf, transmed, anti-blm, anti-anti/proshipper, exclusionist, map or nomap or pear or whatever tf they’re calling themselves now: I Am Not One Of You, Now Fuck Off” business, you know the drill

also also also: here's a general content warning for things you will see here as this is a horror blog first and foremost. i'll tag stuff where i can (especially if it's my own art), but just as a heads up:

paranoia inducing text/situations, unreality (basically anything that calls the nature of reality into question), gore, blood, violence, death, body & face horror, mental illness, trauma, etc.

basically anything you might see in your average sle.nder.ve.rse series, you will see here.

also also also also, quick note: i have not read the comics (and have no way to as of rn), so anything mh-related is based on the web series (and my own hcs/theories) alone. this is not an invitation to tell me what happens in them, btw. i'm sorry if that sounds rude, but i do plan to read them one day and i'd like to find out what happens for myself.

#ark.txt #also dnt r.b this.#i am Once Again just copy & pasting this from another sideblog bc it's easier lmaoooo

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jay-and-dean · 3 years

Text

Yet another thing to celebrate

Dean x reader

Summary (I used the requester’s words) : Reader’s birthday is on Christmas Eve, which generally sucks because everyone is either skint or celebrating Christmas.

Warnings : Fluffy fluff with a little fluff whipped cream on top. Very implied smut.

Wordcount : 3.6k

Note : This is my fic for @girl-next-door-writes Secret Santa (I reaaally hope you like it lovely, merry Christmas and happy birthday) hosted by @negans-lucille-tblr on @spnsecretsantaficexchange.

I also made my participation to the amazing @acklesterritory‘s celebration challenge, in the fic, my prompt was “I saw that, you just checked me out”, it’s bold in the fic.

The song refered to is She’s always a woman, by Billie Joel.

The text dividers are from the great @firefly-graphics

Jay’s Masterlist

Christmas…

Before you even open your eyes, you sigh, grabbing the soft pillow in your fist and nuzzling on its softness in a sleepy grunt.

You don’t hate this day, but it often makes you a little sad despite your will to enjoy it fully. It is your birthday. December 24, the busiest day in the country, damn, in the whole West. And even if you are not the kind to want the full attention on you, to be spoiled or anything, you just wish sometimes that, for once, you could have a proper birthday.

When you were a teen, you more than once even dared dreaming of a party you could throw, but Christmas is about family and basically about everyone. Not you.

You dream of a little birthday party with friends, some drinks, music, maybe dancing a little... But it would be impossible unless you do it way before or way after, and it wouldn't really be the same...

This year is different though.

This winter, even if the celebration of your birth was totally forgotten, you don’t need anything more than what you have now. And what you have is Dean Winchester. Nothing is more important than that, nothing can make you happier.

In fact, nothing can really make you feel any other way than blessed after this summer. After Dean kissed you on that hunt, after you two had sex in the Impala on your way home ; after later he asked you to stay in his bed for the night that other evening you both ended up naked. And finally, after he asked you to stay in his room for good a few weeks later, and started calling you his girlfriend.

You smile thinking of waking up next to him and move your feet to find his behind you. But when you don’t, you turn and rub your eyes before opening them.

Empty. Your shared bed is empty.

“Dean ?” is the first word you say, but the room stays cruelly silent.

Of course… It’s Christmas. He must be busy, like everyone is always on that day… The sting on your heart comes back... You have woken up with the man you love every single morning for the last few months, but not today.

That is how lame your birthday can be.

After staying in bed almost one hour, trying to shake that blues off by thinking of how blessed you are, you finally are about to get up and face that stolen day, but the door opens slowly.

You close your eyes, not really knowing why, maybe just to avoid having to find an explanation for not getting up before if you were awake. The bed moves under Dean’s weight as he crawls on it slowly but you don’t move, even when he clumsily crushes your arm a little while hovering you.

“Happy birthday Baby” he whispers with his coffee breath close to your face. “Have you decided to skip today ? It’s almost noon.”

“Mh…” you hum, lifting your arms to reach his neck, desperate to feel his skin. “Thank you.”

You hesitate a second, wanting to ask him why he got up without you today, why he didn’t wake you with kisses and sweet words like he often does, but you don’t say anything, grateful enough that he got tired of you not being with him and came to get you.

He lets a part of his weight fall on you, making you huff and laugh softly. His scruff scratches your shoulder, the rough fabric of his jeans is uncomfortable and his belt is digging to your hip but you wouldn't change a thing.

Your hand goes to his neck and massages it softly, he hums, and you feel his body softly relax. You always know just how to calm him, how to make him fall back asleep after a nightmare, how to make his muscles calm after the roughest hunts. But after less than a minute, he grunts, sitting up.

"No, no" he shakes his head. "You're not making me skip that day with you ! Get up Baby."

He grabs your shoulders and playfully shake them, not realizing that even his kidding strength is huge.

"Geeet uuuup" he chuckles when your whole body is shaken and your laugh sounds funny because of it.

The warm water runs along your hair and down your spine, and a soft steam fills the bathroom. For sure, that was a great late breakfast, with pancakes Dean had made for you, and his little stolen kisses.

He is really making this day better.

Maybe you can forget about your birthday now, and just enjoy Christmas like a normal person. You are loved, and you are happy, you don't need anything else.

Washing your hair, you smile thinking of the tree the boys have bought, so big that they struggled to carry it up the stairs. You chuckle at thinking of Dean grumbling about the thorns covering Baby's seats. They even bought bags mysterious decorations and fairy lights they never let you see. The library now smells like Christmas tree.

We're celebrating this year, Dean said. And in the years you have known the Winchesters, you indeed never saw them put so much effort in a holiday.

A lot of things keep surprising you.

Sam once told you that his brother had changed a lot since he was with you, making you worry more than anything else. You never wanted Dean to change, you love Dean just the way he is... Then you understood what Sammy was saying...

You understood in the little things. Like Dean's new love for late mornings in bed, like him drinking a little less, being a little less reckless during hunts, humming in the shower, letting go more in bed, allowing himself to give up the constant control he has on himself... And in his will to celebrate Christmas. Dean is not different, he is just happier.

Your eyes get a little wet with joy at the thought while your rub your body with the delicious smelling foam.

Forget your birthday, if Dean's happiness demands this day to be the Christmas he didn't have as a kid, the Christmas he is finally allowing himself to want, then you are honored to help him make it perfect.

You step out of the shower and your eyes meet the big mirror. In the middle of it, written with a big finger on the thick steam : "I love you Y/n".

Your choice is made : This will be Christmas. This will be anything to make that man as lucky as you are.

"How can I help ?" you say, entering the kitchen where Dean is apparently trying to make cookies, wearing this apron he only puts on for great occasions.

"I'm making cookies men like in Shrek" he says pointing to the not-so-bad gingerbread biscuits he already cooked with his finger covered in dough.

You come behind him and wrap your arms around his middle, forehead on his back, just feeling his breathing for a second. Dean doesn't stop what he is doing because he is used to you tenderly and randomly holding him, his clean fingers only come to gently caress your arm for a second before he shapes another cookie, chuckling when he adds a tiny penis to the little guy.

"I love you too" you murmur, nose grazing his back to bath in his smell.

He hums.

"We will eat dinner pretty early, I hope you're hungry" he says, looking at his watch. "I want to enjoy some time with my girl after."

You smile, getting on your tiptoes to kiss the uncovered skin of his neck above the collar of his flannel. He wants a lazy evening, making love like you do, or maybe try a kinky thing ; what is sure is you will gladly give him what he wants.

Time goes by sweetly as you watch this deadly warrior check the turkey while his equally legendary warrior brother prepares another round of eggnog for the three of you. They move around like busy bees in the room and it's a perfect show.

You sit on the counter, talking about silly things, sometimes doing something to help, when your boyfriend lets you. You keep sipping from the sugary drink, and watching the beauty of Dean just be before your eyes. Unaware of how perfect he is in his every moves, he just works with his strong arms and skilled hands.

Your eyes linger a little along his thick thighs, and you bend your head to the side to enjoy the exquisite sight of the sensual curve of his butt.

"I saw that, you just checked me out" he says in a smile without even turning around.

"And ?" you let out in a chuckle. "What are you going to do about that ?"

At your surprise, he starts to rock his hips from right to left slowly in clumsy funny moves of his butt, like he wanted to sexy dance for you without stopping what he is doing, earning an eye roll from his brother when his hip hits him on his way.

Christmas is already perfect.

The table is beautiful. Different courses in pretty plates you didn't know the guys had filling it like you have only seen in the movies. There is way too much food for three people but you are so happy that your beloved Winchester can eat like they want for Christmas eve.

Everything is pretty, the giant messy tree has real bright decorations on it and there are even a few presents at its feet, wrapped messily in colorful papers.

But their most impressive work is the light in the room, changing the place completely. Almost none of the artificial lights of the bunker is on, and a subdued ambiance with fairy lights and candles make it look even more magical than it usually is.

"When did you find the time to do all that ?" you smile with unintended wetness in your enthralled eyes. "It looks... enchanted in here."

"You stayed in bed until noon" Dean says in a light chuckle, pulling a chair for you and putting a kiss on your cheek. "Merry Christmas baby."

"It's perfect, Deanie" you turn your head so his next kiss lands on the corner of your mouth. "Merry Christmas guys."

Sam sits, rubbing his hands at the sight of the turkey, and starts reminding his brother of an old memory of a past Christmas you listen with all your focus. Everything that can make you know more about their life always catches your full attention. You are, after all, their biggest fan.

The story is about a Christmas when Dean was a teen. He had spent the night between 23th and 24th December with a girl and was really late to come back to the motel. Sam thought maybe he wouldn't be back for diner, he had already taken the cereals out of the closet when Dean showed up carrying the whole cooked Turkey he had stolen from the girl's parents.

You look at your boyfriend with all the love in the world and bend to give him a kiss on the forearm while he cuts a piece of this not stolen meat for you.

"Her parents were dicks, and I couldn't let you starve, dad would have killed me" Dean chuckles, filling your plate.

But you know the story must be really different from just that, Dean never brags about how great he was with Sam.

You let out a little moan, tasting the food and Dean’s face is lit by a wide proud grin.

“It’s good ?” he asks before he even tastes, an excited hope in his eyes.

“Delischious” you answer with your mouth full, a hand before it.

And indeed, everything is perfect. Dean, as much as Sam can playfully denies it, is a great cook. He has no technique, no cooking education, but what he has is a real love for food and comfort, a great experience on mixing things and tasting that gives him a perfect intuition. And, above all, the strong selfless will of saying "I love you" with food like some people have.

Sitting on the floor next to the tree, you hold against you the red flannel Dean finally agreed to give you, and the books Sam bought for you. Your head is leaning lovingly on your lover's shoulder while he looks, exited, at the vinyl records he got, humming his favorite songs.

You crawl between his thighs and rest your back on his chest, your head back, temple grazing his scruff.

"Best Christmas ever" you smile, feeling his lips graze your cheek. "So what is the program of a Winchester Christmas after that ?"

You close your eyelid and take a deep breath of Dean's scent, expecting a sexy proposition.

"We're going somewhere" he smiles, and, when you open your eyes, you see Sam put on his coat.

"Now ?" you frown, a little confused. "Where ?"

Dean gets up, putting you on your feet with his strong arm, and takes his coat and yours from Sam's hands.

"I'm not telling you. Take your jacket and get in the car."

He is silent on the road despite all your questions.

You listen to the car's purring and look outside to try to guess where they are taking you. The white snow covers the sides of the road with a very thin and delicate layer, the headlights are hit with little swirling snowflakes, and no clue betrays their surprise.

Sam is smiling, looking out the window. You know they have been planning something, and you know you will love it. Maybe they will show you a place they used to go when they were kids, maybe take you to a special place where you can see the stars so clearly, like this time last summer.

"Come on Dean" you say, kneeling on Baby's back seat to wrap your arms around him from behind, going down a little to feel his firm chest though his shirt under your palms. "Tell me."

"You can't wait just five minutes" he tries to grunt, but it sounds more like a chuckle.

You fall silent, not letting go of him, holding him like the precious treasure he is, occasionally smelling his hair, kissing his shoulder and tracing the contours of his ear. You just can't stop touching him, and since that talk you had after sex once, you know how much he loves it.

"Aw" Sam mocks you like he often does. "You two are so cute."

"Fuck yeah we are" Dean groans, turning right to a one way road.

"You know Christmas is already perfect" you smile. "You don't have to surprise me again."

"Yeah, I know" he says, parking in front of a bar. "But, it's not only Christmas today."

You look around, confused. The guys open the door, letting the freezing cold enter the Impala, and get out in a perfect sync. You follow them, lifting your eyes to the colorful neon lights reflecting in the snowy night. Around on the parking lot, more cars than you would have expected are parked, and you wonder who would spend Christmas eve in a bar like this one.

But before you can wonder why they would have taken you there, to this bar you never heard off, your boyfriend's hand wraps around your waist and he guides you inside, pushing the heavy doors.

The first thing that hits you is the perfect warmth of the inside. The temperature is perfect but not only : the music is smooth like honey, it's this kind of blues that is paradoxically happy and comforting, it smells like wood and whiskey ; and above all, here too, there is something about the light that feels like a hug.

The second thing that hits you is the welcoming familiar face of Garth smiling to you.

"Garth ?" you frown and feel Dean's lips graze your ear. "Happy birthday Baby."

He lets go of you to walk to the people there at the bar, arms open to greet them, letting you stunned.

You are recognizing all you friends there, still in their Christmas clothes, walking to you to hug you and bring you drinks and for a few seconds, your body just stays still.

No one is missing, not one person. And, even if you don't have hundreds of friends since you joined the hunter life, you have never seen a room so full of love.

"Let me take your coat" Jody says, seeing you froze to the spot.

"I... You're here for me ? Th-they planned all that ?" you stammer with some watery emotions filling your eyes.

"Dean did" Jody smiles. "We followed."

You're sipping from that delicious drink the bartender made according to your tastes, unable to take that smile off of your face. Donna, a little tipsy in her pretty outfit, is telling sexy jokes with a full dimpled smile, making Sam chuckle and Charlie high-five her, spilling a little of her drink on you.

From the corner of your eye, you look at him.

He is bending on the pool table with a smirk, his beer next to him. From here, you can't hear what he is saying to the other players, but it seems a little cocky. After only a few seconds staring at him, it's like he felt it and he looks up, giving you the cutest wink.

And you blush. Because even after all you have lived together, even after the kinky experiences, the intimate moments, after seeing him cry, yell, suffer or come... A wink is still enough to turn you to a blushing mess.

All evening, he has been keeping his distance just a little. Not avoiding you at all but not clinging to you, to let you enjoy your friends, to let you have the full experience of a birthday party like you dreamed of since you were a teen.

A birthday with loud silly discussions, a lot of drinks, inventing silly tipsy games with your best friends, trading your clothes in the bathroom, catching up as much as dancing with each other... And you never felt loved that much.

Dean's love is the sun in the middle of your world, but now you can also see the stars, and it is probably the best night of your life so far.

He managed to do something you never could for years and all your friends agreed with his crazy plan. They all had an early Christmas diner to be able to drive here, offer you too many drinks and be there for you. They all made it about you and you're both incredibly grateful and emotional. And since most of them will come sleep at the bunker -and eat all the leftovers with you tomorrow- you don't have to care about the time.

Suddenly, a music note catches your ear.

You know that note by heart. It is the first note of your favorite love song, it is the firsts notes of what Dean hums in your ear sometimes when he holds you after making love to you, pushing your hair on the side to see your sweaty bliss face.

You turn you head and meet green eyes, closer than you expected.

"Hey" he says, taking your hand.

"Hey" you smile.

He tugs gently at your arm, pulling you away from the bar to wrap his arms around your waist.

You have missed him. Of course he was here, but after everything he has done for you, you really have missed holding him, smelling his skin and kissing his lips.

He starts to sway his hips really slightly, humming the love words of the song, and you throw your arms around his neck, looking up at his perfect face.

"She can kill with a smile, she can wound with her eyes..." he whispers the lyrics, fingers grazing the skin of your neck.

And for the hundredth time today, your eyes fill with happy tears while his fingertips go down on your back to hold your waist again.

"Are you having fun ?" he asks low, one hand stroking your lower back tenderly, thumb pushing your shirt up discreetly to feel your skin.

"It's the best night of my life" you give him your most sincere smile. "Dean... You are really incredible, you know that ?"

"Yeah" he nods, hiding his shyness in a kiss on your lips.

"I really was ready to chose Christmas, you know ?" you state, swaying your hips slowly with him, forgetting the rest of the world in your bubble of love.

His plumb lips gently raise on the corner, and he lets go of you to search his pocket.

"I didn't have to choose between hunter life and happy life thanks to you, so I'll make sure you never have to choose between your birthday and Christmas" he murmurs in your ear, before kissing your temple.

His hand reach yours and he opens it to put a little thing on your palm.

"What do you say we had yet another thing to celebrate on that day ?" his breath tickles your neck and you look down to your hand, discovering a little golden ring with a tiny blue stone in the middle of your shaking palm.

"Dean ?"

"Marry me Baby ?"

FEEDBACK IS SO IMPORTANT TO ME

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#supernatural #Supernatural Dean Winchester #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #dean winchester #dean winchester fic #spn dean x reader #dean x reader #dean x y/n #fluff #dean winchester fluff #spnsecretsantaficexchange #jay and dean #christmas

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imthepunchlord · 2 years

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Yeeepppp, at this point, ml can only be written as a crack series or for a marvelous writting that develop characters. Your new chapter if Copycat was great by the way!!!! I still lost complete motivation to write any ml fics though, I mean everyone in this show is kinda a mooron, so I sincerely can't with the cliché storm when Gabriel being smart for a single minute could end the whole villain plot in an episode.

Man, I get that.

A big part of me feels I'm still writing for it largely because I'm not watching the show myself and just mentally sticking to what drew me in, the potential of it and exploring characters (mostly kwamis) as the show won't. At most, I am just listening to those who do still watch it and just be baffled with what I hear.

And honestly, with how much of a train wreck this show is, the best thing to do is drop it and move onto something else. Even more so knowing that means there will be less attention for ML. I have not been able to as I still have a lot of ideas that I want to do, but I would love to dabble onto other writings for other fics in other fandoms, if only my muse would let me. I've tried getting into Pokemon ideas, LoZ ideas, MH ideas; not able to get very far in so those ideas are just sitting and waiting so just going ride the ML hyper fixation while it's there.

So personally, I do consider you lucky that you can't write for it anymore. You can delve into something else, something that would be far more enjoyable. If ML ever gets a reboot that's going to be worked on by woman and people of color, rush on back, cause that's going to end up loads better than what we have now where it's being worked on by middle aged white men who are relying on anime cliches to shape their show and do surface level research as "representation".

#ask Punchie #ml salt

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thyandrawrites · 3 years

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Hi, again. Thank you for responding back.

I saw your reply and you said that you're not comfortable with age gap ship and I perfectly understand that and respect it. So can you give your thoughts to my question if my OC and Dabi/Touya were the same age?

Also, my previous question was (just as a reminder) - My OC met Toya and Enji when she was a little kid through her parents. Both my OC and Toya loved each other, especially Toya cause she's the only one who understood his pain. My question is, will Dabi be still in love with her now that he's a villain?

hi again. Mh, I guess it depends on how you write their dynamic, on the depth of their bond, as well as what happens in the middle.

Relationships aren't set in stone. People you get along with at one point of your life might end up going their separate ways at a different stage of their life. There might be a falling out for a lot of reasons: puberty, worldview changes, not enough time spent together anymore that makes that person feel like a stranger, different values and ethics when you grow up, etc.

If I was trying to iron out the specifics of their relationship through time, I would try and analyze how Dabi and your OC's personalities, goals and values change and grow over time. So, for example, we know that adult Dabi is a lot different from child Touya. He's definitely more jaded and disillusioned. He doesn't see the world through rose tinted glasses but realizes the toxicity of the hero system, and how most pros are driven by personal interest and self-righteousness. As a child, he took obvious pride in carrying on his father's legacy, but as an adult he completely rejects it and calls his father out on saddling him with such an impossible weight.

So, just because Touya got along with your OC as a kid doesn't necessarily imply he would get along with her now too. So ask yourself this kind of questions:

- What was your OC's opinion of Endeavor?

- How did she feel after Touya's "death" and did that change her in any way? Did she look into the accident at all, or just accepted it and moved on?

- what's her opinion of the hero system? Is she critical, supportive of it, or somewhere in the middle? How so?

- Under what circumstance does she meet Dabi again? How does she react? Does she recognize him? Does he recognize her? How do they feel about it?

- Would she sympathize with Dabi or judge him a lost cause? Why? Does she have any other reasons beside her childish love for him to want to see him as a person and not a villain?

- How does she feel about their falling out? Is she frustrated that she let it happen, or does she blame someone else for it? Is she angry at Dabi for never reaching out to her?

- How does she feel about the fact that he's still alive but never bothered telling anyone?

After you have answers for these questions, you can consider the romance aspect of their dynamic.

This is just my personal preference, but I wouldn't base a whole fic on the strong bond those two had as kids. Sure, they might've gotten along really well and even loved each other (admitting that kids love can even be as deep and nuanced as adult love), but a good story needs conflict and there's a lot of stuff you can address here to make their relationship more realistic.

For one, I'm assuming they went something like 10 years without contact. That's already one major reason for conflict. From your OC's pov: if I was good friends with someone, was informed of their passing, grieved for him for a decade, and then found out he was still alive all along and never cared to tell me, I would be pretty hurt to say the least. And from Dabi's pov: if I had a good friend who knew everything about my home life, about my abusive dad, enough so to give me comfort and support through that pain, and then found out she still became a hero despite it, never looked into my "death", but instead became another hero cog in the system? I would feel betrayed, forgotten about, trampled on.

Build off those feelings. How do they change and evolve throughout the story? Is there still any sentimentality between them, any affection left, or is it overshadowed by their hurt? Do they feel any bitterness, and if so, does that make them more cruel towards each other? less sympathetic? Or on the contrary, do they wish things had gone differently? If so, does that affect how they treat each other (e.g., by "going easy" on the other person in a fight?)

I think your best bet to make this somewhat realistic is to play the enemy to lovers angle. I don't see Dabi being okay with your oc becoming a hero, and I don't know enough about your oc to gauge if she'd be okay with him being a villain (it really depends on her personality, goals and worldview). But either way, the thing to keep in mind imho is that they aren't kids anymore.

The love they had was a puppy love that didn't survive the test of reality. So either that love festered and became something ugly, like for example insecurity and a fear of being hurt again that makes them close up, or it became something positive, a wish to actively change the circumstances that made their bond wither and die. So for example your oc might be motivated by the loss of her childhood friend into becoming a hero who rescue abuse victims, or she could grow up and forget about Touya entirely until she sees him for the twisted adult he became. And Dabi might resent her for pursuing heroics and for forgetting about him despite everything she knew about Endeavor, or he might be actively blocking out her memory like he's blocking out the thought of the family he's left behind in an attempt to get back at his father.

So. long story short. It depends. there's no clear cut answer. It really depends on the kind of story you want to tell.

I hope this helped somewhat.

#ali replies #bnha

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