||❥ wrong number. 02.  {nsfw}

m » soonyoung

genre: yeah… u know what genre it is… rated m for my fucking soul left my body as i wrote this.

word count: 4 380

request: a follow up scenario to wrong number which is here. except this time it’s not my old horrid writing and it’s no longer over some messages over the phone ;) it’s a drive-in movie + thighs are involved. just sin.

“I can’t believe you fucking did that, [Y/N].”

A wide smile skittered across your lips, from corner to corner, pulling taunt and pushing upward the apples of your cheeks. Despite the moment being one you weren’t necessarily proud to share; it wasn’t enough for you to evade telling your best friend, the girl who was responsible for thrusting you into this mess. You’d met up for coffee before class started, and whilst Mina was occupied with dumping in one too many sugar packets into her mug, you preluded the conversation by bringing up Soonyoung’s number, the number you accidentally sent a very explicit text to.

You told Mina she shouldn’t bring that coffee anywhere near her lips as you described the story, yet she ignored you and inevitably payed the price as you whisper-shouted one of his messages across the table. Something along the lines of riding his thigh, ruining your body into an irreparable state, feeling how your legs tremble over his shoulders. You watched as she hastily slapped a napkin to her mouth, soaking up the hot coffee that spilt from her lips and just about stained her pretty eggshell blouse. Stop drinking it if you choke after everything I say, you chipped, it only gets worse. Though you couldn’t stand behind that last statement with a pure heart, especially when things were far from terrible the night you and Soonyoung had been pleasuring yourselves to the other’s texts.

“It wasn’t just me! Soonyoung was there too, ya know!” You replied to Mina’s flustered words, keeping pace with her as you exited the coffee shop. She tucked a curl of ash purple hair behind her ear, shooting you a look surprisingly scant with her features being so dainty and porcelain like.

“If you think about it, it’s your fault because you entered his number in my phone.”

Mina’s brows pinched together. “Maybe you should check who you’re texting, especially when you’re calling him hot and talking about how badly you want his hands on yo—,”

“Okay!” You balked with a prickling glow devouring your cheeks, “It was my fault too.” Together you arrived at the stop light, surveiling the opposite pole and waiting for that tiny walking man symbol to start twinkling. Mina was in a quarrel with her own thoughts, still baffled by coincidence that Soonyoung, her dance teacher, happened to be the same student you walked in on with another girl at the frat party. She couldn’t deny he was complete eye candy, though his ludic behaviour often times spurned her interest, especially when his best friend Seokmin was sprinkled into the mix.

“I guess I should also mention,” You huffed, pebbles strewn along the asphalt as the symbol finally flickered, “That he invited me to that drive in movie on Friday,” You gulped, ”

And I’m going.”

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||❥ wrong number. 01. {nsfw}

m » soonyoung [ PT. 02 ]

genre: absolute smut!

word count: 6 500

synopsis: you are dragged to dance class by your friend, but don’t realize the guy she practices with is the same dude you walked in on with another girl at the frat party :-((

You shouldn’t have let Mina drag you to her dance studio, instant regret seeping like thick tar through your bones and clumping your insecurities in one erratic bunch. The floors appeared so smooth and polished, the fluorescent lighting casting bright scars to litter the wood and bubble an unwavering taunt about how slippery the surface could be. Mirrors were plastered to the front wall, all spiffy and spotless while intimidatingly large speakers pumped melodies of music into open air.

The principal reason for you winding up in a place like this was because you uttered one mindless sentence, “I mean, I wouldn’t mind learning to dance,” to Mina one afternoon, and since then she’d been dead set about hauling you to the studio she practiced at. It was just after four o'clock as Mina’s grip on your fingers slithered away, leaving you to stand in an empty dressing room while she shed her attire for something more suitable. You had a change of clothes in your bag too, but you were hesitant to slip them on, mostly because one simpering thought was staining the corners of your mind and gnawing at your flesh.

Mina really should have told you earlier she practiced dance with, Kwon Soonyoung, the attractive blonde that you accidentally stumbled in on screwing some girl at a frat party. The memory cut through your brain in a spastic flash, until the only depiction blotching across your eyelids was the girl propped against the bathroom sink, wisps of hair dancing before her face and the obscurities she relentlessly keened. 

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Achluophobia: Friday

Title: Achluophobia: Friday, Part 1 of 4
Author: @piecesofscully
Rating: PG-13 - Strong R
Timeline: Mid-season 7
Notes:  A HUGE thank you to @bohoartist for holding my hand through writing this, sending encouraging feedback when needed, and just being a badass beta in general.  Media credit to @bohoartist as well. I don’t deserve you.  So much love to @kateyes224 my baeta, for polishing my words and making them better.


Yellowed porch lights from neighboring houses punch orbs of brightness into the colorless night that hangs heavily behind the living room windows.  

“Lindsey!”  Her mother’s voice carries down the stairs to the couch that Lindsey sits on.  Joey, her younger brother, glances at her over his tower of Legos that perches atop the coffee table.  Ignoring his glare, she pulls her comic book closer to her face, her eyes straining to make sense of the jagged lines of the drawings at a too-close distance.

“Linds!”  She hears her mother’s sing-song call again.

“Mom’s calling you, you should answer,” Joey says as he rummages through the plastic toy pieces in front of him, before settling on a long red plank and places it at the top of his creation.  Lindsey chuckles and rolls her eyes as she snuggles herself deeper into the couch cushions.  Her little brother is the personification of innocence with his bright blue eyes and freckled cheeks, both of which lend credence to his invariably angelic attitude.

“She’ll come down and get me if she needs me.”  She can feel his eyes on her still as she nonchalantly flips the page of her book and smirks.  “Lighten up, punk.”

In a flurry, their mother enters the living room with her arms full of dirty laundry and her curly mahogany hair wisping wildly in every direction.  Recently laid off from her job as a bookkeeper, her days are spent doing laundry, meal-prepping for the week ahead, and whirling throughout their house like an F5 tornado with a purpose.

“Didn’t you hear me calling you?”  she asks, her voice as weightless as the flowy blouse she’s donned.

Lindsey shakes her head ‘no’ as her little brother speaks.  “She did.”

“Tattletale,” Lindsey mumbles. Joey shrugs.

Their mother sighs, and then chuckles as she flits around the furniture, dusting here and there with a stray sock.  “Linds, you really need to remember to blow out your candles before falling asleep.  You’re gonna burn the house down.”

“I like the light,” Lindsey responds as she flips a page of her book.

“Well, then we can get you a night-light.  A night-light won’t catch the curtains on fire.”

“Mom!  I’m fifteen, I can’t have a night-light.  If my friends saw that, it would be like freaking social suicide.”

“Language, please,” their mother warns.  “You know I don’t like it when you say freaking.  That’s just another variation of a cuss word, and we don’t talk like that in this house.”

“I have a night-light,” Joey offers.

“You’re eight, no one cares if you have one,” Lindsey replies.

“Linds, being afraid of the dark, at any age, is nothing to be ashamed of,” her mother says as she crouches and begins to pull stray socks from underneath the couch, tucking them to the heap of clothing under her arm.  “I know plenty of adults that sleep with the bathroom light on.”

“I’m not afraid of the dark!”

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Dear Candescence,

Heh heh!  It’s always nice when irony works out in your favor, isn’t it?

Not being able to see properly would be pretty bad for a lawyer, but I’d love to know how I look with a visor.  Some of them have a really futuristic look to them.  They almost make you look like a cyborg!

On second thought, that might be a little over the top for me…

-Apollo Justice

||❥ to the moon

s o o n y o u n g // s c e n a r i o 

Originally posted by jongdaeshighnote

word count: 1,618 

genre: soft precious fluff + light mentions of smut 

synopsis: soonyoung has been away for awhile, and upon his return can he only muse over how badly he wants to see you.

✎ so i am definitely still working on that seokmin request, but for the time being here’s some hosh fluff to satisfy. excuse the cheesiness, I HOPE YALL ENJOY AND HAVE A GOOD DAY/NIGHT! 

He shuffled through the doorway with dreariness pulling in the resemblance of ash fingers at his clothing, sinuous grooves of muscle festering up an ache that travelled from the stretch down his thighs to the tautness embedded in his spine. The leather strap that hugged his shoulder slipped like melted butter toward the floor, balled fists rising to rub the heavy quilt of exhaustion from his pretty eyes.

 A certain silence had coalesced with the dimly lit silver that splashed along the apartment walls, tinging the corners of his mind with memories of your arms that were always so tight around his waist, and your scent that wallowed in sweet peach mixed with cream.

The keys pulled out the lock, door clicking shut ever so softly in case you’d slipped between the seams of sheer darkness and calm breathing. He kicked his bag next to the shoe rack while feeling a chill prickle up his neck, remembering how it felt to have your cheek cushioned against his shoulder and strawberry lips lightly brushing the sensitive skin of his neck. 

Your breathing would even sooner than later whenever his hold on you became certain, and he found himself easing back into the silk linen much easier when you had fallen asleep before him. He sauntered over to the fridge to examine the contents, though quelling the growl in his stomach was hardly what he craved, hardly what feathered up his sore muscles and chest of pumping cotton.

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I’m so rusty. gah!! lmao. Here we go~

  Sorcha moves through the crowded longhouse, stepping around tables and expertly straying away from the hands that itch to reach out and brush against her exposed thigh. It would seem not even the hilt of a dagger strapped to it seen through the slit in the long, ivory and cremé colored dress she wears is enough to deter the northmen.

  “Ubbe.” She addresses the second eldest Ragnarsson knowing that he is, out of his brothers, the closest with Ivar. He looks up from the chicken leg he is devouring, it’s grease dribbling down his chin and into his beard as he peers up. “Where is Ivar?” She asks him, watching as he sits back, licking his fingers free of the chicken’s juices. Sorcha’s gaze shifts to Margarethe as the fair haired sprite reaches for Ubbe’s hand on the table, her pale fingers fluttering over the back of his hand and the lioness’ gaze narrows as she resists — only barely — the bearing of her teeth. While the girl’s gesture is not particularly possessive there is an edge to it that claims Ubbe. Fortunately, Sorcha thinks with a twist of her lips ever so slightly, it is not Ubbe whom her sights are set. Margarethe is no warrior, as far as Sorcha has seen of the girl she is content to follow, to be ordered about like a sheep trapped in the middle of a hungry pack of wolves. Only, she does not realize.

  Ubbe’s shoulders rise and fall, reclaiming Sorcha’s attention.

  “I do not know.” Ubbe speaks simply. Sorcha tosses her braided hair over her shoulder and turns her back to the Ragnarsson, her annoyance more heightened than normal. It is not Ubbe’s fault and she does not mean to take it out on him but she has learned to be wholly unapologetic. Whether that is her years as a Gladitrix or Ivar’s influence she cannot be sure.

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Fan Fic Writer’s Appreciation Day

So today is a day to celebrate some of our favorite writers, so I wanted to share a few of my favorite fics and their author’s!! This will probably mostly be Nursey/Dex, but there will probably be a few other ships thrown in :)

@jayzimmboni - Emily writes such amazing fic??? Like I can’t even deal. This fic about Dex and Nursey sneaking into a competing team’s practice and this “lick the object” one are just two of my favorites (honestly I love everything it’s hard to pick). Check out Emily’s writing tag and AO3.

@chillwhiskey - the literal, actual, Queen of nurseydex, no if’s ands or buts about it. Like… Marissa is what I aspire to be honestly. There’s one fic about Nursey and Lardo getting high that I love, and also this one with Dex actually being confident in his sexuality and Nursey being the one is freak out is great too.  Check out Marissa’s writing tag. 

@holsterr - okay, if you want to read the most beautiful nurseydex fic to ever grace this fandom, for the love of God, please read Cocotte’s fic tending a fire. Life changing, I swear. Check out Cocotte’s AO3 and writing tag.

@unchillnursey - okay like, Feliks has the best headcanons about Dex and Nursey, all day every day, but I BURN every time I read this fake dating Holsom fic. It’s pure fluff and I still start blushing idk what to even tell you guys. Check out Feliks’ creations (art!!/fic!!!/etc!!!) and AO3.

@benjji2795 - TOOLS AND BEARDS, TOOLS AND BEARDS, TOOLS AND BEARDS!!!! Okay no but seriously, one night about 4 months ago I was like… hmmm I kinda like the idea of Nursey and Dex? Let me just mosey on over to the tag. And then I read every single one of Benjji’s fics. In one night. The above screamed about Tools and Beards is a Classic ™ . Check out Benjji’s writing tag and AO3.

@acountrygirlsfun - just… Caitlin is one of my favorite people on this website. Like legit, she is just a fabulous person. I LOVE her fic Summer & Snapchat. Read it, you won’t regret it. Check out Caitlin’s writing tag and AO3.

@petals42 - like Caitlin, I already knew Petals from teen wolf, but Petals’ omgcp writing is SO GOOD LIKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The Holsom Keep It series as well as Ice Crew AU are my favorite fics to read over and over again. Check out Petals’ AO3 and writing tag.

There are so many talented writers in this fandom, and I don’t have the time to do the above for everyone, but I am going to list as many as I can think of here. You all are fabulous, I enjoy your work immensely, and I hope you know you are appreciated!

(in no particular order)

@decsdecksdex, @omgericzimmermann, @ahausonfire, @derek-nursey-nurse, @chilldexie, @le-lex, @foxtrot-thelaxbro, @sadquebecois, @miraculousbitty, @epikegsters, @dazeli, @samwellbittty, @ffffinnigan, @zimsbitty, @dexysnurse, @likeshipsonthesea, @violacakes, @never-been-sane, @justinbirkholtz, @justinbroluransi, @damn-nursey, @holsters-eyeglasses, @someobscurereference, @shittyslardo, @tdkeh, @marswithghosts, @cptnkentparson, @seraphina-snape, @parrishsrubberplant, @legojacques, @alocalband, @loveandallthat7, @nerdfighterwhatevernumbers, @wheeloffortune-design, @pretentiousnursey, @asterlark, @tiptoe39, @demisexualdex, @jacksbits, @dereknursey, @rhysiana, @goodlyomens, @eleanorfenyx, @diamoric-lardo, @wishingonalightningbolt, @nurseydexchow, @zimmermanns, @peanutbittle, @taddietango, @bittyybee, @dexynurse, @puckitall, @thehausghosts, @victory-candescence, @asexualdex, @inevii, @itsacpsideblog, @des-zimbits, @dmnursey, @starks-and-mellarks, @bittybae, @didjamissme, @itsybittle

I’m sure I forgot someone, just know I love everyone in this bar!

||❥ amber amongst ash

v e r n o n ! s c e n a r i o

d y s t o p i a n ! a u

Originally posted by lonexsamurai

words: 7.5k

genre: fluff + some minor sadness + cute ending for @hansolmates

synopsis: hansol has finally escaped the chaos that plagues a world long crumbled, his heart beginning to swell for the pretty girl who presents him his new utopian life

Our last utopian seat goes to Hansol Vernon Chwe.”

You read from the slip of thin paper in your fingers, eyes quickly following suit of your words to sift through the crowd of dusky and ravenous looking individuals. They all clumped before you on the platform, each one standing in their own phantom of exhaustion and hopelessness. 

Tattered excuses for cloth rumpled in speckled dirt wrapped their glass bones, skin laced with rough, bumpy callouses, and hair a matted mess that resembled twigs from a birds nest. Not a single drop of spirit could be traced back to their beaded eyes as your voice echoed across a platform only kept aglow by the dull candescence of lanterns, and you suddenly feared for yourself if those faded sources of light were to flicker away.

Suddenly there was a ruffle, a squabble of movement that cut through the dimmed atmosphere. No one was willing to move from their stand on the steel, the boy that was weaselling through the crowd pouring out a litany of anxious apologies until he almost tripped his way to the front. You were lowering the tiny paper to your side as the boy matching the name, Hansol Vernon Chwe, appeared before you, the strap of his bag almost slipping from his shoulder.

“You’re Hansol?”

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For You? Anything.

Okay…I’ve been getting a couple of requests for an anal smut so here it is! To be honest I’m super nervous about posting it because this is totally new to me! It’s my first ever anal anything so I’m sorry if it’s not that good! Please don’t waste your time reading this smut if you think that anal is gross. As always, constructive feedback is always welcome!




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Kink #85 - 2:54am

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word count: 2205

Summary: Kink #85, waking up in the middle of the night to have sex and then going back to sleep.

Warnings: None I don’t think! Just smut ;) pretty vanilla smut might I add!

A/N: Please let me know what you think! Whether you thought it was good or not, etc ;)

@but-deans-back-tho @yoursupernaturalsammygirl @ouijawinchester

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In heaven, you get all the Skittles you want.
Skittles you’ve never seen. Golds and silvers and deep fuchsias
explode on your tongue like a whole ripe forest.
You get a cup overflowing with nectar
or manna, or tea sweet as salvation. Trayvon,
the angels must be dazzled by your sticky smile,
the smell of earth fresh on your cheeks, your eyes
still adjusting to being above the sun. You must look
beautiful up there with all them clouds and gold
and God tight all around you like a new skin. You must
be the definition of glory up there, the hum you give
with all of your fore mothers rubbing candescent oil
into your scalp, a king’s homecoming,

but still, a black boy was killed
and they acted like it’s j-walking. A black boy
killed and it was just another Sunday. A black
boy killed, brought skittles to a gun fight,
was executed for being himself at the wrong time
in front of the wrong person. Was it ever
convenient to be a black boy, Trayvon?
We are misplaced gods, oceans
diminished to puddles. You left this world
for no other reason than another man’s malice,
for the way we taught him to treat you
the same as the roaches and the rats. Trayvon,
you are not vermin, nor solider, nor martyr.
You are innocent. You are too soon gone.
You are the consequence of so much history.
I wish it was my place to apologize.

I wish anything we told your mother
could make sense. I wish progress wasn’t sick
and eager to prove how slow she moves.
We still owed you an 18th birthday, a legal cigarette
with a lover, a too drunk 21st, and countless times
you and your friends figure out the world.
You deserve mistakes, and children, and choices
and grey hair. Trayvon, we’ve betrayed you
time and quiet. Your name makes the heart remember
that this world has teeth of a unnamed beast, hands
of a Klan’s man.

—  Danez Smith; , but For Trayvon Martin
Why do I love reading fanfiction?

I love reading, I have always loved reading since I was a little girl. I have read all kinds of styles and genres. I could not name just one favourite book (I have so many).

If my TBR pile was huge when it was just books on paper… I do not want to know the exact number of books that there are in it since ebooks appeared… If they were books on paper, I could be in one of those TV programmes about hoarders! (and let’s not forget audiobooks, they let me keep up with my reading while I do some work, go out for a walk, etc.).

I read because it makes me happy. It makes me think, it makes me smile, it makes me laugh, it makes me cry… it makes me fall in love with fictional characters.

So why do I read fanfiction? Surely I have plenty of published books (”Never enough”, a small voice whispers inside my head…). The reason is simple, for me, fanfiction is what happens when you love some characters and want to write some stories with them because you don’t want their story to end or want to change their story.

Sometimes you are lucky enough to be in a fandom full of great artists, writers, podficcers… so you don’t have to do the writing because there are so many great stories to choose from. I want to thank you all for making me happier, and I’m sorry if I don’t tell you enough.

Thank you to (in no particular order) @earlgreytea68 @mojoflower @ivyblossom @beautifulfic @consultingsmartarse @aranel-parmadil @reapersun @archiaart @navydream @anotherwellkeptsecret @wearitcounts @madlori @kriskenshin @victory-candescence @mapleleafcameo @atlinmerrick @xistentialangst @silentauroriamthereal @merripestin @khorazir @prettysherlocksoldier @axemeaboutaxinomancy @enerjax @junejuly15 @avawatson @verity-burns and many, many more. 

This is just a short list of the amazing people in the Sherlock fandom. I’m sure I have forgotten to list many of you, and I’ll want to bang my head against the wall later. Sorry. (Feel free to add to the list.)

P.S. By the way, I never know what is better “fan fiction” or “fanfiction”. I think I prefer “fanfiction”. Any thoughts about that?

P.P.S. I know some of the people I have listed do not write, but drawing or reading aloud is just another way of telling a story. :)

It’s Early, But I Need You

This is my fic 2:54am converted from being Dean x Reader to Bucky x Reader! 

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word count: 2205

Summary: Kink #85, waking up in the middle of the night to have sex and then going back to sleep.

Warnings: None I don’t think! Just some pretty vanilla smut!

A/N: Please let me know what you think! (And if you’d like to be tagged in my Bucky fics then let me know!)

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Many Times, Many Ways

Dinner was done. Dishes were washed. Everything was calm in Alexandria. Tiny snowflakes tapped against every window in the dark house. Snow had been falling in intervals all day. The light dusting on the ground from the morning had turned into an ankle deep sea of white by the time the sun set and tiny stars began to dot the sky.

 Michonne stood in the front room gazing at the world outside. A mix of old Christmas songs she’d found in the Monroe house was playing softly in the background. Her already happy and peaceful state was lifted even higher when she heard the stirring at the top of the stairs.

Rick had a distinct cadence to his step. No matter what he was doing or where he was going he walked with a determined purpose. He wasn’t one for a casual stroll even when just puttering around in their home. When she heard him pound down the stairs as if he were going to war instead of the living room, she couldn’t stop her chuckle. It had only been less than an hour since they were last in each other’s presence, but her heart still thumped with anticipation at laying eyes on him again. She’d missed his face.

She shook her head. “Can you be any more love sick, Michonne?” She thought. The smile on her face grew wider as she was enveloped in strong arms and warm kisses against the back of her neck. She turned her head slightly to allow his lips to land on hers.

She giggled when she turned around fully in his arms and saw he still wore the Santa hat they’d found on a run to a crafts shop. He paired it with a bare chest and gray pajama bottoms. Michonne tilted her head to the side and swatted at the furry ball at the end. “You like wearing this don’t you?”

He shrugged with an adorable smile. “Judith wouldn’t let me take it off.”

“Well you do look extra cute in it.”

“And it matches my new red flannel shirt you always seem to be wearing.” He pulled away from her slightly to admire how good his love looked wearing only the shirt and a pair of black knee socks.

“You always say it looks good on me, so I’m going to keep wearing it.” She grinned as he winked at her. She gave him a quick peck on the lips and wrapped her arms around his neck. The twinkling lights behind him made his eyes sparkle to match his own smile. He stroked her back a couple of times before letting his hands rest just above the curve of her backside.

“Any trouble getting Judith to sleep?”

“That daughter of ours is quite the handful. After about three readings of Twas The Night Before Christmas, she finally couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore. She was fightin’ it the whole time though. Kept asking to open her presents.”

Michonne shook her head and chuckled. “She’s been so excited since we explained what was going on to her. Did you tell her we have two more days until Christmas?”

“I did. Couldn’t convince her she needed to sleep until I promised more baking cookies with Mommy tomorrow.”

“I think she likes trying to sneak and eat all of the cookies more than actually baking them. I had to tell her we needed save some for Carl to have when he gets back tomorrow to finally get her to stop trying to steal from the batch.”

“I’m glad he’s finally coming home. Seems like he’s been on at Hilltop for months instead of a couple of weeks.” Rick glanced outside. “I hope he’s able to get back OK with all of the snow. He hasn’t been driving long, and the visibility might not be good. I’m thinkin’ bout meeting him halfway.”

Michonne stroked the hair on his face. “Don’t worry, babe. Daryl’s coming back with him. They’ll get here safely.”

He took one more look out of the window before sighing and turning his attention back to Michonne. “You’re right. I just can’t believe he’s already seventeen and driving.”

Michonne pecked him on the lips again before taking his hand and leading him over to the couch. “I know. Our boy is becoming a man.”

“I’m not ready for that. I need him and Judith to stop aging.”

“Hate to break it to you,” Michonne plopped down on the couch, “But we’re all getting old. You hear how our bones creak when we get out of bed every morning.”

He gave her a sly smirk. “Well, yeah, but that’s because we always work them hard the night before.” He dived on the couch and pulled her on top of him while kissing her cheeks, chin, and neck. He gave her ass a light swat as her giggles filled the air.

Rick adjusted Michonne on top of him and wrapped his arms tighter around her when she started to shiver. Wayward drafts were slipping through the tiny cracks in the house. “You cold?” He asked as he tried to warm her by running his hands up and down her arms.

She nodded. “It’s getting drafty in here. Temperatures must be dropping.”

“I would suggest you to put on more clothes, but…” He shrugged and grinned. “I never want you to wear more clothes.”

She climbed off of him and wrapped the throw blanket laying on the back of the couch around her shoulders. “Yeah, I figured that out a long time ago.” She snatched the Santa hat from his head and fashioned it on her own. “Let’s just start a fire.”

He kissed her hand and stood. “As you wish my lady.”

“Please don’t talk like King Ezekiel. I always feel like I’m stuck in a never-ending Shakespeare play when we visit the Kingdom.”

Rick laughed. “True.” He looked back to where she lounged on the couch; her thigh exposed and looking sexy wearing his shirt and hat. “How come all my clothes look better on you?”

Her reply was just a sexy grin and shrug.

The fire cast a warm glow around the living room. It had only been three years since the world as they knew it came to an end. Yearly traditions such as birthdays and holidays seemed like more of a myth of the past then something that most of them had lived through year after year. The harshness of the new world seemed like it would never allow a respite to celebrate, but somehow, someway they had defied every obstacle to create a faded facsimile of life as it was before.

The scavenged decorations and Judith’s red and green abstract drawings were all over the house. Eugene’s genius mind had figured out how to make a plethora of Christmas lights that adorned their fireplace and the mid-sized tree where presents were stacked all around.

Rick gestured towards the tree. “Quite a haul we were able to find. I like your creative wrapping. Especially the old blanket you wrapped Judith’s new tricycle in.”

Michonne laughed. “You gotta improvise with what you have.”

“You did great, baby. I can’t wait to see her open everything. I never thought she’d ever get to experience Christmas.”

Michonne stood and joined him at the fireplace “But here we are.”

Rick wrapped his arms around her. “Here we are.” He kissed her like he never wanted to stop. Full of passion and eternal longing. Both feral and sweet. Eager and lingering. Their tongues convorted together. Pairs of plump lips met again and again and again.

The beautiful sounds of Nat King Cole drifted from the speakers. “This was always my favorite Christmas song,” Michonne said. “Dance with me.”

Their bodies moved as one as they swayed to the melody of the song. Her head on his chest. His hands rubbing slow circles on her back.

“Can’t wait for you to open the gift I found for you,” she whispered. “I think you’re going to love it.”

“I’m going to love anything you give me.” He tilted her head up so he could look her in the eyes. “But you know what the best present is? Waking up next to you every morning. Making love to you every night. Knowing you and the kids are safe and healthy. I never need anything else in this life. And every day I’m going to show you in as many ways and as many times as I can how much I love you.”

Michonne’s eyes flooded over as she became overwhelmed once again by the depth of the love they had for each other. She looked at the man before her as if was the most precious thing in the world. “My Rick Grimes. Ever the romantic.” She laid her head on his chest again. “I love you too.” 

He pulled her closer in his arms as they continued to dance in front of the candescent fire. A war on the living was still raging outside the walls, but at that moment all they could think of were the many times and the many ways they’d survived and the gratitude of being right there in that moment together.

Although it’s been said many times, many ways
Merry Christmas to you

(written by @blacklitchick)