#Christmas Messages for Your love Ones With Images

[sinsirellaxx]

Okay but how about our toxic Slytherin boys who only have a soft spot for the reader🥺

Slytherin Boys – They only have a soft spot for you

Warning: Honestly ... no warnings!

A/N: Thank you for the request! Enjoy!

Not proofread.

Mattheo …

… whose frown disappeared as soon as he heard your voice or spotted you in the crowd. Who immediately hides his injured fist behind his back in fear of worrying you – he didn’t want to taint you with his darkness. Mattheo who deleted and blocked every single girl’s number after falling for you. Mattheo who stopped skipping classes, just to always be with you and see you several times throughout the day. The young riddle brother who’d rather wear cozy pajamas, with a face mask on his face to watch a movie with you together in his bed instead of getting wasted at a party.

Mattheo who constantly has to bite the inside of his cheeks to keep himself from hurting anyone who’s too close to you.

Mattheo who is actually afraid to scare you away with his true self – so afraid, that he constantly has to put up a mask.

Mattheo who’d burn the whole world down just to be with you.

“I love you more than you know, love. From now on, everything I do is for you. You’re mine and I’ll always be yours.”

Theodore …

… who is known to be a womanizer is suddenly ashamed of his past promiscuous lifestyle.  Theodore who only has eyes for you, ever since you ran into him and ended up pulling him to the floor with you. He had been annoyed at first but the moment your eyes connected his head went completely silent. For the first time in a long while. He saw peace and warmth in your eyes – his peace, that he would run after from that day on.

Theodore who spent most of his time with you after having finally won you over. The only thing that mattered to him were you and if your relationship was getting serious and you loved him just as earnestly as he loved you, he’d even quit smoking.

“There is no one that I want more than you. You’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of. Ti amo.”

Lorenzo …

… was surprisingly thoughtful and selfless when with you. Lorenzo had gained himself the title of being the prince of Slytherin, with his charming looks and boyish smile but every girl who had been in an intimate relationship knew how selfish and arrogant Berkshire really was. He is the my-pleasure-only kind of guy, who’d be gone in the morning. Or the guy who leaves girls on read and just sheepishly smiles at them when confronted about it. But with you, Lorenzo can’t help but light up like a small child on Christmas eve whenever you hold his hand let alone are close to him. He’d impatiently wait for your replies and snatch his phone from wherever it was whenever it vibrated in the hopes of it being a message from you. He’d trail after you like a lost puppy, taking advantage of the positive image that he had built for himself and would look at you sadly with his big brown eyes, whenever someone or even you brought up his reputation with the girls.

“Please don’t listen to those rumors … I truly love you so much. So much, it actually hurts me.” Lorenzo brokenly whispers while clutching his chest.

Draco …

… would pamper you with his money – because that is the only love language he knows. He didn’t grow up in a loving, warm household but his parents gave him everything he wanted to compensate for their lack off emotional support. Draco never knew he wanted – no, needed intimacy until he met you. At first, he had been appalled by his feelings for you. You were nothing like the ideal woman his parents expected him to marry one day, but he was lost in your eyes the second you smiled at him – trapped in the warmth that radiated in your orbs. The man completely changed – well, only when it was about you. In the beginning of your relationship, you had to teach him about the other love languages – you had to reassure him, that he didn’t need to spend money on you to express his love. You told him he could touch you, kiss you, hug you and tell you, whenever he wanted or needed something from you. After that, Draco didn’t go a day without hugging you close to his body at least once. He’d kiss you good morning and goodbye, every. Single. Day.

He'd never forget to tell you how much he loved you and how beautiful you were.

“I love you more than I thought I was capable of. My heart is so full. Thank you for being mine.”

Blaise …

… would be – what is nowadays considered as – a simp. He’d go soft for you and only for you. Whatever you want – whatever you need, he’ll get it for you. You want him to straighten or curl your hair? No need to ask twice. You want to apply make-up on his face just for shits and giggles? Anything for his princess – but please don’t take any pictures of him.

Someone looks at you the wrong way and makes you feel uncomfortable? They might go blind soon if they don’t look away asap. Blaise is so infatuated with you, that you wouldn’t even have to ask or mention the idea of a promise ring or matching necklaces – he’d be two steps ahead of you.

“I know it sounds cheesy – but you are the moon of my life. I’d do anything to see that beautiful smile of yours.”

Tom …

… still struggles with showing affection and worries, that it might drive you away. He tries – he really tries hard. Tom Riddle is known for his intelligence, but he soon has to come to terms with the fact that his intelligence won’t help him with romance. He had a lot to learn. When he first started noticing his feelings towards you, he was in complete denial. He outright refused to accept them. He had no time for love. But when another male from his year started flirting with you his resolve to ignore his feelings disappeared into thin air. He couldn’t ignore his feelings any longer – or else he’d have to get rid of many male students and that would not be optimal for his time at Hogwarts. He’d slowly start getting closer to you: Approaching you in the library to help you reach a book from the top shelf, helping you carry your books when one of them fell from your arms. He even had to practically force Snape to assign him as your Potions tutor. You had been intimidated at first, but he slowly grew on you. Tom was very attentive and took mental notes on everything you told him.

Out of respect for you, Tom didn’t want to make use of his legilimency, but he couldn’t help himself. He is still a toxic boy after all.

“I promise to always love you, my love. There is nothing that can stand between us – you are mine forever.”

_

A/N: Feedback and comments are greatly appreciated! ❤️

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[s-4pphics]

click! finale (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you need a roommate, and you love eggplant. [college au]

WORD COUNT: 4.7k

WARNINGS: photographer/roommate!ellie, ocs an artist with a rep and black, parental trauma, self-worth issues, slight disordered eating, brief alcoholism and hypersexuality, heavy grief, pining but depressed

A/N: finally on break yaassss….. sequel? LOL 

The air around you is strangling. You haven’t left your room in two days. You’re not passing this semester. 

The room next to yours, however, is filled with life. Ellie’s back to blasting her music and banging on walls, but you have yet to cross paths. Not in class, not at home; You haven’t seen her. Pickle never hesitates to scratch at your door for hugs. And kisses. She’s brought you so much comfort, even in times where you feel like you’re undeserving. 

Christmas is around the corner, and you’re alone. Amaya never shied away from taking you home for her breaks, but she’s gone. She hasn’t called in a while; You hope she’s doing okay. 

So, you seek escape in a different way and do what you haven’t in a long time. 

Tears flood your vision, your thumb hovering over a number you haven’t touched in ages. Your hands won’t stop trembling. You’re going to regret this. Your heart's already breaking into pieces at the heart and cloud emojis of the contact. 

Soft paws knead your thighs and you kiss kit-kat’s tiny head as she nuzzles your chin. You’re trying to keep your sobs to a minimum, but they’re tearing your throat to shreds.

Your thumb comes down on the contact and the line rings. And rings… and rings until the dial tone sounds. 

“At the tone, please record your message. When you are finished recording, you may hang up or press one for more options.”

You knew no one would answer. No one ever answers, but still, you listen for her voice. The steadiness of her breathing. You take a shaky breath, “Hi, mom.” Mindless sentences pour out of you like a waterfall. You just sit there and allow Pickle to playfully bite your finger. 

“I, uh… I’m not…” Another sob, “I’m not doing well.” 

You would never say that if she were here. You always masked your true feelings for her sake; She never needed any additional stress. 

Void images of your father reoccur in your memory, “I think there’s something wrong with me… I don’t think I’m a g-good person.” A barbed tongue affectionately licks at your finger, and you try to smile. 

“I… We found a kitty in the snow,” You whisper, “She's the cutest thing ever.” Pickle looks up like she knows what you’re saying, and you weep at her delicate eyes. 

“It was the weirdest thing…” You huff wetly, “It felt like you put her there to stop me from making a mistake.” More tears flood your shut eyes. 

“I just miss you…” Your palm digs into your eye, “and I wish you w-were here. I’m not…” Pickle climbs to rest in your lap; You always did that with your mom for comfort. Another loud sob. 

“I lov— “

You jolt at the loud dial tone, and the line ends. You drop your phone on your blanket and search around your room, the portrait of your mother standing tall on your desk. You need to make another one for her birthday. 

Your eyes travel over your space, and for the first time, you don’t feel comfort. Your mind is racing with thoughts that expose your truth; They’re vile and dirty and they make you feel like scum. A disease walking. 

The dark nights are restless and the days are silent, halls only filled with soft purrs and pattering paws. 

Your home no longer holds the joy that it once did when Amaya was here. Excitement used to burst through you whenever she prepped your movie nights after work, the living room filled with laughter and corny love lines that made your stomach secretly twist with warmth. 

You’re not happy anymore. Anxiety brews in you whenever you walk into the kitchen, the living room, go to feed and snuggle Pickle. It’s fucking miserable in here, and as difficult as it was for you to admit, it’s all your fault. 

It’s almost finals week, and you’re nowhere near prepared. You can’t focus on anything except the treacherous silence of your space. It’s almost like Ellie’s already gone. 

You should be anticipating her departure, antsy to have your space to yourself again, but your chest aches. This past month was anything but smooth, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything. For some reason. Maybe it’s because you got to live your main character moment, even if it was just for a few hours.  

Ellie, as much as you hate to admit it, deserves better. Just like how you deserve to spend your life alone, trapped and secluded with your own thoughts. She should want better for herself; Nothing is worse than being in your presence; Maybe that’s why you have no one. 

You desperately want to do better for yourself, but you’re tired. Your mother would be so disappointed in you. You retire from wallowing and climb under the covers, Pickle clutched tightly to your chest. You hope she doesn’t mind the tears from your tee.  

The portfolio is finished. Ellie can’t stop staring at the booklet enclosed in leather on her desk. 

The online submission process was infuriating, mainly due to her laptop dying during the portfolio render, but it’s done. Her ticket into a life-changing position is no longer hers to judge; It can only go up from here. 

All she needs is that phone call from the recruiting manager and it’s over. She’ll be in the city in no time. She’s excited and jittery; Every buzz from her phone is met with clenched hands and a sweaty forehead. Her disappointment heals when she sees her father’s classic thumbs up emojis surrounded by black and red hearts; Even from miles away, he knows when she needs support. 

Ellie lays her forehead on the leather, sighing in relief for what seems like the billionth time. It’s a surreal feeling, relishing in accomplishments. She's never done it, mainly because her mother never wanted to acknowledge happenings she wasn’t the center of. Hearing congratulations is still a mindfuck years later. 

… Your photos looked stunning. You’re made for this, even if you don’t believe it. 

Ellie will never admit how much energy she put into editing those pictures, specifically the ones you’re in. She spent hours recoloring, scaling, sharpening those photos, and they turned out incredible. Probably some

of the best shots she’s ever taken, and you’re in the center. And your eyes… There’s so much light in those hazel specks. 

Another mindfuck. 

Whenever Ellie comes home, she checks the small space between the floor and door of your bedroom to see if you’re awake. If you’re alive. The relief she feels when she sees a lamp light or shadow eases the tension in her shoulders. 

She never knocks, though. Never. 

So why are you? 

Ellie’s back instantly straightens at the soft pats on her door, heart pounding in her ears. You never knock. 

She’s embarrassed at how fast she stands, chair nearly falling over as she flies to pull her door open. 

She’s met with you; She hopes you can’t hear the shatters from her chest at the sight of your disheveled appearance. Your hair is matted and the brunette river in your eyes are surrounded by redness

“Sorry, I—“ Your voice cracks like you haven’t spoken in ages, “She was lying there and I felt bad. She missed you, I think.” She’s never heard you sound so tedious. You’re always the loudest, goofiest person in the room. Ellie’s brows furrow before following your line of vision. Pickle’s sleep in front of her door, curled like a cinnamon roll. Ellie sighs as picks her up as fluidly

as she can, trying her best not to wake her. 

“You’re gonna have to take her when you leave.” 

Devastation sets in your tone as you stare at the little fur ball, “Why?” She asks. 

“My dad’s allergic.” You whisper.

Ellie peers down when Pickle stirs, “Is… is he visiting?” She asks, just as quietly. 

Your head shakes, “I’m going home.” 

Ellie does an impeccable job of hiding her shock. So many questions race in her mind: going home? Where’s home for you? Is it permanent? Are you moving out? When? Are you and your dad close? 

You’re turning away back into your room, but Ellie blurts out before you can shut the door. “I finished my portfolio! It’s… it’s done. I turned it in.” 

You turn, and your eyes are watery. Your smile is tiny, but genuine. “Congratulations,” you’re so quiet and your voice shakes. Ellie’s mind whirls, “They’re gonna love it.” You take one last look at Pickle, and your bottom lip wobbles. You shut and lock the door before Ellie can say thank you for helping me. 

Ellie’s eyes lock onto the floor, watching your lamp turn off, ears honing in on the shuffling of blankets. She swiftly scurries inside her space when she hears crying. 

Her chest concaves at the sobs echoing through the dark, silent halls. Through the thin wall as she sets the kitty on her favorite pillow to sleep on. She paces around her room and yanks at her pinky. How she wishes to be a fly on the wall; She wants to knock on your door so badly, but she doesn’t know what to say. How to comfort. She's always relied on her father for that. 

So, she just listens with regret and makes her final decision.

If you move from this counter, you’ll faceplant into hardwood. You don’t like the blaringly loud song coming from above, so you down another seltzer. It’s distracting enough. 

You feel yourself leaning forward, so you force yourself back up, practically flung over the counter. You’re never drinking again, you promise yourself. How many times has that one been broken? You don’t remember. You miss Ellie. 

You’re going to fall again, but this time, you’re supported. And not by the counter. You instantly relax at the familiar scent. 

Abby’s mumbling something about something, but it sounds like gibberish. You throw your arms around her neck, inhaling deeply; You miss Ellie terribly. 

We gotta get you outta here. You frown; You don’t want to leave! The party just started! 

Her strong arms wrap around your waist to maneuver you. You’re not sure where she's taking you, but you don’t fight. You simply allow her to snatch your heels off and carry you into the piercing-sharp cold. Just allow her to drag you to safety. You wish it was Ellie. 

The world around you moves in a blur; The pace is making you dizzy. You don’t want to vomit in Abby’s car. When did she get a car? 

“Abby…” 

“Yeah, hun? You good?” She sounds so far away. Your mumbles are incoherent. She's so confused, so she asks you to repeat it. 

You face her from the passenger seat with a sultry grin. You miss Ellie, “I missed you.” Your words are garbled and your hands are as loose as your tongue, shakily landing on her muscular thigh, massaging the skin. 

Abby tenses with a sigh, planting a gentle hand on your traveling one. Her grip tightens when you try to move. “Did you really?” 

That's your green light. Your smile grows as you clumsily unbuckle your seatbelt, “Stop… stop the car.” 

Abby’s foot plants on the break, and you jerk forward. Like the night you found Pickle. Like when Ellie… 

“What’s the matter?” 

I miss my roommate. “I’m horny.” 

Your friend scoffs and shakes her head. Either you’re too drunk or she’s disappointed… Not the reaction you were seeking. Your smile tries to fade, but you force the corners of your mouth back up. 

“No, you’re not.” She snaps, and it takes you a second to catch it. Abby’s upset again. What the fuck did you do this time? Your facade finally falters. Now you’re irritated. 

“How’re y… how’re you gonna tell me what the fuck I am?” You sound like a fucking idiot, but your rage ignites your slurs, “If you don’t want me, why’re you here!” 

“Because you fucking called and I’m your friend! I didn’t wanna leave you by yours— “

“You should’ve!” Your shriek is piercing; You’re shocked the windows didn’t shatter and slice you both. 

“That’s how you fucking feel? Really?” 

You try to swallow tears, but they flow. The words you want to say are on the tip of your tongue; Thank you for coming to get me. I’m sorry for being awful. Don’t leave me by myself. 

But none of them escaped. They sit and rot in your throat. You’ve never seen Abby so… 

And she doesn’t let up, “Now you wanna cry? Are you serious?” There’s fire in her eyes; It burns in a way you’re not used to, especially not her, “This victim shit is getting very old— “

“I don’t care!” 

“I don’t fucking care, either! If you wanna keep getting used like a piece of meat by random bitches, then do that! Leave me the fuck out of it!” Abby slams her hand down on the armrest, and the car doors unlock, “Matter of fact, get the fuck out!” 

“Fuck you!” 

“Fuck YOU! Get out! Get the fuck out!” 

Curses and heated exclamations leave the two of you until you wobbly exit the vehicle, slamming the door as hard as your brain would allow. The wind blows like tacks, stabbing through the skin of your bare arms and chest. Abby zooms off, and you scream. 

You dig in your pocket for your phone, ineptly dialing Ellie’s number. It’s fucking one in the morning

“… Hello?” She was asleep. Your heart eases at the steadiness of her tone. 

You’re shivering, “… E—Ellie?” 

“Hm?” 

“I’m… I’m really cold and I don’t,” sob, “I dunno where I am— “

“What do you mean?” She asks abruptly, alert. Your heart flutters. 

You whimper, “I’m lost, I don’t… I’m a bad person— “

“Send me your location. Where’re your keys?” 

“I— I don’t remember— “

“Are you drunk right now?” 

“Yes,” You mumble meekly. This is so fucking embarrassing. 

Ellie sighs heavily, “Just… Is there somewhere you can wait until I get there?” 

You search through tears, finding mostly dark retail stores and restaurants across the street… Except Jack in the Box! The munchies hotspot never fails you. 

“There’s a Jack in the Crack over there.” You point like she can see you. She snickers softly. 

“Go, then. I’ll be there soon, okay?” 

“Wait! Don’t… don’t hang up, please, I’m scared— “

“I wasn’t going to.” 

You closely listen to the shuffling on the other line as you wobbly trek across the street. You sharply inhale at every slip and stumble on your journey, almost sobbing through every confirmation to Ellie’s small are you okay? 

You finally make it inside and thank God that it’s warm. You take a seat and sigh at the familiar jingle of keys. 

“You in there?” 

“Mhm.” 

“I’m coming, send me where you are.” 

“K.” 

It takes you longer than it should’ve to get her the location thanks to the Casa in your system, but she’s on the way… You really want curly fries. Fuck. 

You hate how your thoughts wander, self-loathing at the forefront of your lobe. You take after your father more than you thought: a filthy, lying train wreck. You’ve ruined every glimmer of hope, of positive influence around you, and you’re forced to bathe in the treachery you’ve created all over again. 

“Hey.” 

You leap out of your seat at Ellie’s raspy tone, seeing your hoodie draped over her forearm and keys dangling in her hand. Your tummy growls when you wave. Ellie’s gaze softens. “Hungry?” She hands you the hoodie for you to throw on. You nod. 

“What do you wanna eat?” 

“… Fries,” you croak, “Curly, please.” 

Ellie nods and waddles to the service counter. You watch her backside under her puffer as she pays and collects a small baggie and water before nodding towards the car. You follow close behind her in silence, munching on your snack. 

The ride back home is silent, but for once, the air isn’t deadly. You’re eased back from your breakdown, and it’s definitely not due to the forest in your roommate’s vision. 

You enter your warm apartment and get greeted with soft purrs, Kit-Kat skipping over to rub against your leg. It’s almost enough to make you break down all over again; You can’t believe you have to say goodbye to her next week. 

You kick your sneakers off and squat down to her level, “I love you so much, baby girl. Thank you for taking care of me.” You whisper and pet her head, all the way down to her tail. She meows like she loves you. Ellie shuts the door and watches you silently. You turn to face her. For the first time, she doesn't fidget at your inspection.

Her eyes are much glossier and she’s picking at the skin on her pinky. She wants to say something. 

“You okay?” You murmur, and Ellie nods. You don’t believe her. Her eyes are downcast. Why does she look so nervous? 

The silence is killing you, so you speak. 

“Ellie, I’m… I’m sorry for everything,” You stand and ramble. “I’m the worst roommate imaginable and I-I’m terrible and impulsive and I fucking suck, but I’m sorry… I’m sorry.” 

I also kinda like you. 

Not even your word vomit lets that slip. So, you apologize, sloppily and snot-filled. Tears drip down your face in waterfalls, “I’m— I don't wanna go... and I don’t want you to go…”

Ellie’s timid facade breaks, only slightly, eyes closing gently as she listens. “I know I don’t deserve t-to ask that and it’s not… I wasn’t apart of your plan— “

“You’re drunk.” 

You’re plummeting into the void all over again, succumbing to a familiar, oddly comforting darkness. 

“H-Huh?” 

Ellie’s as firm as a tree, unmoving. Strong. Still. You’re transported back to your first conversation and how intimidated she made you feel. “You’re drunk… and I leave in the morning. I got the job.” 

Drowning. That’s what this feels like. Strangely proud. Oddly suffocating. You’re underwater, but refuse to resurface. “I-In the morning?” 

Her head jerks. “I, uh. I got rent covered. Sorry for the late notice.” She shoves her hands in her pocket. You shake your head, wiping your face with the back of your hand. “It’s okay.” You whisper. “Where’re you gonna go?” 

“My dad’s. He’s a few hours out. The truck comes tomorrow.” 

Your head bobs in acknowledgement, “H-How was the stats final?” She pauses; Her eyes sadden, tilting like an unwatered rose. “You’ll do fine.” She whispers. 

“Promise to take care of my daughter?” You blurt between sniffles, already moving down the hall, ignoring the loud shattering in your heart when you peep all her boxes in the now vacant room beside yours. 

Ellie mumbles your name but you’re sick of ugly crying in front of people. “Good luck with everything.” You mutter with hot feet.

And with the last click of your bedroom lock, you shut out the vine who entangled your heart for the last time. You give into the feelings of loss, the emotions that come with failure, and release them into your hands. 

What could’ve been, your brain hollers while your heart wails. What could’ve been if you weren’t you. 

You don’t remember waking up, but you’re in pain. Physically, mentally; You're hurting. The intensity of it somehow gets worse at the sound of Ellie dragging boxes out of her — the room. 

You just cry. There’s nothing to do but cry. Your phone has been ringing all morning, but you don’t have strength to reach for it. You relish in the deserving pain of your hangover. Tequila hasn’t done shit for you. 

Hours pass, and your home is silent. Ellie’s gone. Pickle’s gone. Amaya’s gone. Abby’s gone. Your mother’s gone. You take their departures as signs. It’s probably time for you to go, too. 

Your shower is incredibly long. You wash and wash and re-wash, wanting the feelings of cleanliness to cascade down your skin, but it never comes. You tearfully accept your lecherous nature and every vile entity attached to it. You’re a vessel for heartbreak and villainy. Forever your worst enemy. You look in the mirror for the first time in days. Just for a second. You can’t stand to see yourself for longer than that, your naked form a reminder of every violation you’ve had to endure since you were fifteen. 

Ellie isn't thinking twice about you, and yet, she terrorizes your mind, trying to convince yourself that your time together wasn’t all bad. You’ll never forget the color she brought to you. Her seed is forever planted and growing in your heart, her roots forcing their way into your system, intertwining with your rough, cracked bones, enclosing around your lungs with each breath. 

Too bad you impacted her in the worst way. You couldn’t even manage to give her a sober apology before she left. It’s hard to accept the fact that you’ll never see her again, but there’s nothing you can do about it now. 

Once again, you’re too late. 

The short lap around your living room crushes your spirit. Somehow, all of your memories are shrouded in emptiness. All the proof of Ellie’s residency is gone… Except the indent of her body on the couch. She always loved sleeping there.

One last heavy exhale. That’s all you can manage before you grab your coat and beanie and exit, locking the door behind you. You keep your head down on the way to the parking garage, hopping into the driver’s seat. The ride to the academic advisory office is silent and swift; It matches the finality of your meeting. 

Tears glaze your eyes when you ask your counselor, “What’s… What’s the first step of withdrawing? Like, from school.” 

-

-

-

CHRISTMAS EVE 

Your fork picks at the pasta noodles on your barely touched plate. The wine is delicious. 

“Honey, are you…” Your dad says softly before sighing, “How’s the meal?” You blink up at him, focusing on the crinkles in his eyes. He seems youthful somehow. Healing looks good on him. 

You gulp down more maroon, “… It’s great. Thank you.” You mutter. You’re not used to talking to him; You’re glad the feelings are mutual. He only nods, head downcast onto his plate. At least he’s eaten. 

He sets his fork down on his plate and wipes his mouth with a napkin, “I hope you like your gift.” He says before standing to place the dish in the sink.

A dark smile spreads behind your glass. 

“Never thought you’d buy me anything.” You snicker sarcastically. “Don’t start.” His voice slices through the kitchen. You hold back your flinch. You’re not ten anymore. 

You shrug, shoulders heavy, “Just saying.” A glass shatters in the sink, and he curses and storms off, the bedroom door nearly swinging off the hinges with a slam. Your smile grows at the booming echo. Like father, like daughter you suppose. 

-

-

-

DECEMBER TWENTY-SEVENTH 

“Are you ready, kiddo?” 

Ellie’s heart is pounding through her chest as she stares out the window. She can’t believe her father hasn’t commented on the bursting organ. “No.” She whispers, adjusting the camera strapped around her neck. She's fighting not to bite her nails; Her dad hates that. 

He chuckles softly, “Yes, you are.” 

No, she’s not. 

The photography studio is fucking huge and surrounded by tall windows that display suited individuals laughing, conversing, perfecting their lenses. She can see the bright specks of neon color on the white floors, white walls, white couches. It’s so much brighter than she ever imagined.

The colors are reminiscent of you. Vivid. Captivating. Beaming like your smile. There are flashes coming from all directions inside the studio and it’s making her shake in the passenger seat. A strong hand plants on her blazer, giving an encouraging squeeze. “Look at me.” 

Ellie’s head turns, eyes locking with her dad’s. 

“I love you. You got this.” He says with confidence. Ellie nods in agreement, but he doesn’t accept it. “Say it.” 

“I got this.” Not as confident. A lot quieter, but getting there. 

“Eh?” Her dad leans in closer, ear pointed at her. She giggles and repeats herself. A little louder. He decides that it’s good enough, pulling her close over the center console. Ellie inhales as deeply as she can, right in the crook of his neck. He plants one last kiss on her cheek before releasing her. She grabs her bag from the floor and pushes the door open, looking over her shoulder one last time. “I love you.” She whispers. He bops her nose with the most delicate grin. Pride is radiating off him, and it warms her from the cold outside. 

Ellie departs with one last wave, shutting the door and skipping onto the sidewalk, walking right up to the front door of the studio. A final peek at her dad; He sends her two thumbs up. She smiles. 

Breathe in, one… two… three… 

When the door pushes open, she's greeted with wide grins and warm hugs. It feels like home already.

Finally... Finally.

BIG ASS TAGLIST LOOOOOL LOVE YALL: @starologist @hrtmal @ohlawdthebirds @villainousbear @timmy-27 @inf3ct3dd @aouiaa @shurisbigtoe @emothurman @lonelyfooryouonly @imelliesgf @baumbii @brackishkittie @littletinyladybugs @r1miese @horror-whoree @elsbunny222 @elliesatchel @makemescreamel @lav3nd3rhaze @elliezflower @ellieloml @ellies-princess @saverdelrey @womenofarcane@muthafuckingstargirl @mina-281 @yuckyfucky @aimformyheartt @elstoy @skylerwhitwyo @sawaagyapong @nil-eena @dewylittlestars @sakiigami @feelsoseencantdream @ellieslittlegf@fictionalgap @liabadoobee @whooknooows @sarahsmileslikesarahd0esntcare @qtgaslighter @p4ison1vy @eviestevie-14 @weaselot @elliewbbg @elsmissingfingers @lmaoo-spiderman @lyssaspengler @elliewilliamsmunch @gummydummykj @kiwikeysblog @juniorsfav @louleele @alittlextrahoney @tohoko@333-starhotline @girlkissersco @saplingkoi @crxmxnzl-c0rpzes @elliew-illiamsmissingfingers @diddiqueen @alexisvs-world @mostlyhornyandsad @lolaaa699999 @elsblunt @niyahlovesu @randomhoex @sunnmoon @elliesaesp @callmewhenyoukan @rubycruzsbitch @deathby1000sluts @skylerwhitwyo

[seattlesellie]

not about love: part three ♡

ೃ⁀➷ read part one | part two | part four

pairing: college loser!ellie williams x fem!reader

synopsis: you go to a frat party, ellie is a dumbass.

warnings: heavy sexual themes, alcohol, weed, JEALOUSY (both ellie and reader but reader goes through it)

You stirred from your nap, your eyelids fluttering open as you gradually became aware of your surroundings. It was hot, too hot, and the AC wasn’t working. Neither was the fan. So much for one of the “Best colleges in the world!” as they liked to boast on their little website page. A faint buzz emanated from your phone.

You groaned. Dina's persistence was relentless, and she refused to accept no for an answer. The thought of going to a Kappa party was one thing. Sweaty bodies, lame college boys who thought they were hot shit because their daddy was the CEO of toaster strudel or whatever, cheap liquor that burned inside the pits of your stomach even three days after the party was over…

That was the least of your problems.

The problem was, you guessed it — Ellie.

Wherever Jesse and Dina went, Ellie was always there, tagging along like a lost little puppy. They never turned her away; they actually seemed to enjoy her company. And who could blame them? Ellie had a wicked sense of humor, and some might even say she had a sweet side. Plus, she always had a fat joint tucked away in her pocket, ready to be shared. The thing was, Dina and Jesse were a fucking couple, and Ellie somehow managed to squeeze herself into their most intimate moments too.

You asked Dina about it once, and she just shrugged — “She’s a little lonely sometimes, so why not?”

Dina was right. Ellie was… a little lonely. When she wasn’t with you, shed lock herself inside her dorm room (which she thankfully shared with no one), solemnly strung on her guitar, broody and quiet. She’d blast metal when she was upset, and draw till her arm hurt. It was “by choice” she always told, shrugging off your attempts to convince her to socialize, enjoy the college life, have some fun. She wanted to tell you that you were enough. That she didn’t need those random hookups, that parties were the last thing that interested her, when you were around. Her cheeks would blush a soft, dusty pink whenever she entertained the thought of confessing her feelings to you. The uncertainty of your response weighed on her mind like a pesky little irritant. What would you think then?

None of it mattered, anyways, because you and Ellie hadn’t talked in a week. That was the longest time without contact since 10th grade. Granted, you did fight that Christmas night, just a year ago — but you never went completely cold. Not like this. Ever since that day in her room, something shifted. You saw her in the cafeteria, Sitting alone with white string earphones in her ears, she bopped her head to the rhythmic tunes of Bob Dylan. Pretending not to see you, she shifted her gaze towards the window, fixating on the birds' nest nestled within the tree nearby.

She thought you knew.

She thought her secret was out.

“You’re not” Was the last thing that left her mouth that day.

Ellie was delusional, Because you didn’t fucking know.

“I cant see her EVER again” she scribbled in her journal with dark ink, pressing down on the pen until her thumb turned white.

When NASA released the stunning images of millions of galaxies, your thoughts inevitably gravitated towards her. She was a constant presence in your mind, after all. You sent her a message, a sweet one. “thought of u” it said, with a picture attached.

It was radio silence. No response, no call, nothing. Cold.

This is why you didn’t want to go to the party today. And maybe, this is why you did go — regardless. Stand up to her, ask her what was wrong. Did you do something? did you hurt her feelings? did you finally fucking break her?

It was 9PM, and there you stood, butt naked, facing your closet.

“fuck you Dina” you whispered sotto voce, as the weight of blame rested squarely on her shoulders. She’s the reason you’re here, your mind completely blank, staring at a pile of unfolded clothes, Your makeup sprawled open on the table, the powders and the colors creating an accidental artwork. You had a half empty bottle of boxed wine in your hand. Definitely Dina’s fault.

“Nothing!" you exclaimed, flinging a delicate light pink tank-top onto the floor in frustration. “To fucking wear!” you groaned, tossing a black pair of jeans of across the room. It was your turn to throw a tantrum now.

You dialed Dina on the phone, more than ready to complain to her over your lack of clothes, her stupid kappa party, maybe even over the pumping headache you had three days ago, maybe that was her fault too.

She picked up.

“Heyyyy pretty” Her words slurred, and the scent of vodka almost wafted through the screen. Oh god, she was drunk already. Just great.

“You pregamed without me?!” You yelled, perplexed.

“Wh— I called you like five times! So did Jesse, you didnt pick up the phoneeee”

“Pick up the phoneeeee” you heard Jesse mock Dina, his laughter echoing in the background.

“Fine, whatever. I have nothing to wear, I’m gonna look like shit, my ass hurts because I slipped AND I think this white wine’s poisoned. Plus I need something that makes my tits look good and all i have—“

You grabbed a crumpled white corset top from the floor, its fabric wrinkled from being discarded.

“Is a stupid corset! and you still didn’t give me back my dress!” You whined, pacing around the room, still naked, still chugging on some “poisonous” white wine.

“You’re on speaker, babe”

“I dont care. Hey Jesse, you sound wasted too” You tried on the white corset, surprised at how good it fit around your body. Huh. Maybe you didn’t need to iron clothes like, ever.

“Heyyyy” his voice came through muffled, mixed with fits of laughter as Dina had apparently spilled vodka on herself.

“D, I’m sending you a picture of my fit, I have no pants on so don’t save it, weirdo”

She coughed.

“On speaker” she repeated.

“Jesse doesn’t care” You rolled your eyes, as you struggled to zip the corset top up.

“Ellie’s here”

Oh.

“Oh” you froze. Of course she’s here.

“Say” Dina's voice descended to a hushed tone, as if her words were no longer intended for your ears.

“Say hi” it was quiet, but you could hear.

"I don't—" Ellie's voice emerged, subdued and suppressed, barely audible.

Dina shoved the phone to Ellie’s hand.

“Hey”

You gazed at your complexion, transfixed as if you were trapped in a moment suspended in time.

“Hi” you quietly said.

“Okay— whatever you two have going on… figure it out, be there in twenty. And send me that pic!”

Dina hung up.

Be there in twenty. Okay, you got this. You looked at yourself in the mirror, half naked, your hair a mess, your heart beating out of your chest. Maybe you don’t got this.

Frantically, you swiftly gathered yourself. You hastily slid into a sleek black skirt, styled your hair, generously applied a thick layer of lip gloss, and quickly slipped into the tallest heels you could lay your hands on.

“Skirts too long” you whispered to yourself.

It wasn’t too long, the plush of your ass was almost peaking out of it.

It was borderline comedic, how you fast you shifted when you heard her voice. How quickly you went from not giving a shit, whining quietly about the sweaty bodies you’re going to bump into, and the thick smell of cigarette smoke and cheap alcohol you were going to have to breathe through, to caring so heavily, and so deeply, about something completely different. You put the shiniest pair of hoop earrings you could find in your drawer, spritzed a thick layer of sweet, vanilla and almonds perfume, and took another glance in the mirror.

This is how she was going to see you. She’ll smell your perfume, you were sure of it. Perhaps she’d even glance at your legs if she got close. you see, Ellie had a habit of… looking up and down. She thought she was sleek, she thought she knew what she was doing. She thought she was hiding it, and hiding it well, but she never did. You always noticed how her eyes would flicker up and down, how a rosy pink would grace her cheeks.

This isn’t about Ellie, though — right?

There was a loud thud that echoed across the room, originating from the big window above your bed.

Dina and Jesse were here. Oh, and her.

“fuckfuckfuck” you frantically whispered to yourself as you went to grab your purse. You glanced at your reflection again. You looked good, and you knew it. Hell — everyone would know it, but not everyone mattered.

You took a deep breath, and with that, you were out of your room.

Click-clack—the sound of your high heels grazing the ground filled the air.

“oh sh—“

you almost slipped.

Right as you exited the building, your eyes landed on them.

Three, slightly inhibited, babbling adults standing besides each other.

You moved closer, the sparkling keychain attached to your purse swaying and jingling with every contact against your figure, a touch of girlish charm to your stride.

“Holy shitttt” Dina gasped, her eyes widening in awe.

You didn’t even glace at Ellie. Non existent.

“Jesse” she nudged his arm. “I’m leaving you for a girl”

She wrapped you in a tight embrace, her sweet but subtly spicy perfume filling your nostrils. The moment your eyes met hers, any lingering anger you had towards her completely melted away. The Dina effect.

“You look so hot” she teased, flashing you a sly smile.

“Hey idiot” Jesse chimed in, embracing you tightly, looking dapper with a tight, black t-shirt adorning his body.

“Look at those muscles” you said, punching his arm lightly.

And there she was.

a black leather jacket, a white button-up shirt with the top buttons left undone, a tight pair of jeans and her trusty old Chuck’s.

She dressed up. She never dresses up.

Her eyes were glued to the ground. What was she hyper-focusing on now? The ant crawling on the ground? a dry, crumpled leaf? Perhaps on your high heels, and the thought of you keeping them on while your legs are resting on her shoulders?

Her throat closed up at the thought.

“Hey” she said, her voice low.

You could tell she had been drinking, based on the dazed look she had on her face. Maybe she smoked some too.

“Hi” you said, and flashed her a small, awkward smile.

“Start walking idiots” Dina exclaimed, and grabbed your hand in her palm.

The walk to the party was not quiet. It was anything but. Filled with aimless giggles, and Jesse almost walking in to a pole. Ellie dragged by quietly, chuckling to herself at a funny anecdote someone had made. She never was quite like this. Of course, she was broody, some would say somber, but she was not a “quiet” person. Not when she was with her friends. Tonight was different. Tonight, Ellie had something else in mind. The way you swayed side to side, giggling loudly and boasting into a Britney melody made her heart swell in her chest. She couldn’t stop replaying the events of that day in her mind. The way she got close, the way you whispered that you weren’t like Dina and Jesse, and the way she agreed. The way she had never come so hard in her life, with her hand between her thighs and her phone in her hand.

Tonight was going to be fucking difficult.

You finally arrived to the party.

As anticipated, the scene unfolded before you— a pulsating mass of sweaty bodies, shirtless college guys, and scantily clad girls grinding against each other, moving rhythmically to the beats of a 2013 Jason Derulo song.

“Shots?” Dina questioned, her eyes scanning the crowded house.

“Shots” you responded, a slight panicked look on your face.

“Sure, yeah” Ellie quietly said, her hands stuffed inside her pockets.

Dina was out of your sight at the speed of light.

You were left alone with her.

It was suddenly harder to breathe, and it wasn’t the lack of oxygen from the dozens of people breathing it in.

“So…” you said, trying to be as loud as you could — so she could hear you, amidst the loud music and the occasional screams.

She was standing in front of you. God, was she beautiful. She didn’t even try, was the frustrating part. The way her hair rested half down, the rest of it tied in a bun, the way a small strand of hair framed her face — she was flawless. Her freckled cheeks were glowing, a red hue caressing them, and as her hand came to scratch her face, presumably a nervous reaction, it flexed slightly. You always stared. Just like she stared at your tits — you always stared at her hands. It was a silent agreement, tit for tat.

“So many people” you chuckled.

“Listen, I-“

“Tequila for you” Dina’s voice startled you from behind, making you flinch.

“And… a shot of whiskey for the lady” She handed Ellie the short glass.

“3, 2–“

It was warm inside your throat, and it slid so uncomfortably, you had have a reaction. Your face twitched, tongue peeking out of your mouth.

Ellie couldn't help but crack a smile, stifling the urge to burst into laughter.

Ellie never made a face when she drank. Swallow it in, Joel taught her. Hold your breath — and let it slide.

“EVERYBODY!”

the loud voice of a college frat-boy echoed through the room. Did he have a fucking microphone?

“SPIN THE BOTTLE IN KEVIN’S ROOM TO THE LEFT!”

You rolled your eyes.

“What are we, thirteen?” you sighed.

“No…” Dina responded, her gaze shifting between you and Ellie.

“But you need to get some” she nudged your arm.

“And so do you” She whispered to Ellie.

Ellie could feel her heart beat fasten up. Funnily enough, it wasn’t because she was embarrassed to play. It wasn’t because she cared about it, or wanted to “get some” — It was the thought of you. The thought of you, getting some. How could Dina even dare to suggest such a thing? Of course, Dina didn’t know about Ellie’s… situation. Still, how could she say that? How could she endure the thought of you with somebody else? What if you end up meeting somebody? What if you, god forbid, end up kissing somebody? Ellie felt it in her stomach. It was that same rage she felt when you had your first girlfriend, Emily, in 10th grade. When she caught you kissing behind the bleachers. She remembers how her mind went blank for a second, fully white. A moment after, she saw red. She punched a fucking wall, and promised herself that if she ever gets the chance — the actual chance, she’d beat Emily up so bad it would leave her bleeding. Of course, she never got the fucking chance. Emily was nice to Ellie, hell, Emily loved Ellie, and Ellie never had the guts to do it, so she punched her pillow instead, every goddamn night.

“Let’s go, c’mon” Dina exclaimed, taking hold of both your hands and skillfully maneuvering through the bustling crowd.

—

At first, the bottle landed on a sweet cheerleader named Amy, and a dumb jock named Steve.

“I dare you to make out shirtless in front of everybody” Kyle, a blond frat guy said, gaining himself a couple of “Oooo” sounds from the people gathered around the room.

“It’s not truth or dare Kyle—“ A loud voice popped off from the background.

“My house, my rules” He shrugged as he responded.

“I should be paid to watch this” You said in a whiny, slightly bitchy tone, Ellie and Dina chuckled in response.

They went at it, shirtless and sloppy. Tongues clashing in an unsynchronized dance, slurping each other up like animals.

“Okay, okay — next round” Kyle exclaimed, burping into the mic.

“Ew” you gagged.

The bottle spun.

You were standing besides Ellie, her shoe nudging yours. At one point, she accidentally touched your thigh, followed by a breathy “Shit — sorry”.

There was absolutely no way it would spin pointing at her, and then point at you. But she fucking hoped. Maybe, if it was a dare, shed have the balls to do it. Maybe she’d be too embarrassed to say no in front of all these people, who might think she was even a bigger weirdo for turning a game down, so she’d have to kiss you. Maybe her lips could touch yours like she desperately desired. Maybe shed manage to put her hands on your waist, and hold you still. Maybe you’ll feel it, finally, and give into her.

Slip a tongue in, who knows?

It landed on her.

“Fuck” she hissed under her breath.

“Oh” Kyle said into the mic.

“Who are you?”

“Ellie” she said quietly, internally punching herself in the gut.

“Cant hear”

She cleared her throat, feeling her face heat up.

“Ellie” she said, louder.

You felt your throat close up. This can’t possibly be happening. Dina was ecstatic.

“Okay… Ellie, never seen you around here… Spin”

“I don’t—“ she quietly said, looking at you from the corner of her eye.

Something was wrong. Your body tensed up.

“Cmon, El” Dina nudged her arm.

She spun the bottle, the sound of the glass grazing the floor filling up the room.

It landed on a ginger named Alison. You recognized her from one of your classes. Alison was a nice girl, popular, but kept to herself. She was pretty, a sweet pair of big brown eyes, and a cleavage that left no room for the imagination. Alison smirked at Ellie, tilting her head.

You weren’t exactly a firm believer, but you prayed to god louder than anyone has ever did.

Please don’t kiss. Please don’t kiss.

“Ellie… Alison… Who else thinks those names go fucking along?” Kyle exclaimed into the mic.

The crowd whood, the crowd of people cheering this… Obscenity — as you’d call it.

Ellie shifted uncomfortably, digging her short fingernails into her palms.

You lifted your chin up. Shit.

“Ellie and Alison,” Kyle whispered dramatically.

“Kiss.”

Dina squeezed your hand.

“Ellies gonna get some…” She melodically hummed in your ear.

Your face twitched.

“Alison — take your shirt off. Ellie, gotta give us a show”

Ellie went bright red. She didn’t want to do this. She didn’t want to fucking do this. It buzzed in her ears, echoing inside her brain.

It was almost as if a comically bright light bulb appeared on top of her head.

What if this was payback.

She could never have you, couldn’t she?

What if this one hurt.

What if you realized.

Ellie didn’t dare to look at you, but she felt it. She felt you shift, she felt the harsh breath that escaped your mouth.

Alison crawled closer. So did Ellie. Her shoe grazed your knee as she moved.

You swallowed deeply.

Alison’s eyes twinkled amidst the dim lights.

Ellie felt her toes curl inside her Chuck’s. Her breathing got heavier, and her heartbeat fastened up. It wasn’t because of Alison, or Andrea, whatever her name was. It was beating because you were watching.

Alison initiated it. It was a small peck, at first.

Your hand was trembling.

“Go Ellie!” Dina cheered.

Ellie took it as a green light.

She parted her lips slowly, and sucked Alison in for a kiss. A hungry one, slow and steady, a wet tongue slipping in, gently swirling inside the shirtless ginger’s mouth. When Alison whimpered silently, Ellie brought her hand up to squeeze her breast. The crowd was cheering her on.

You felt like a monster took over your body. Your throat closed up, eyes growing moist. Oh shit. You were about to fucking cry.

Ellie grabbed Alison’s neck, and held her firmly.

It felt like it was going on for hours.

And then it stopped. Alison was panting, and Ellie was too.

There it was. The first tear that crawled down your right cheek.

“I’m going to the bathroom” you whispered to Dina.

Ellie looked across her shoulder.

You weren’t there anymore.

“Where’d she go?” She wiped her wet mouth on a black leather covered shoulder.

“Bathroom” Dina said, absentmindedly with a smile.

“Fuck”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

♡ part four ♡

[mrsriddlenott]

The Second Day Of SmutMas

[smutmas masterlist] [main masterlist]

~ Christmas Movie Marathon ~

bf!JJ Maybank x fem!Reader

Summary: You, JJ, and the Pogues spend Christmas together in the chateau watching all your favorite holiday movies, until your mischievous boyfriend gets bored and wants to distract you as well.

- Lmk how y’all feel ab this one please, I’ve never written for OBX and I have yet to watch the 3rd season but I love JJ and Rafe so if this is good I may decide to write for them more after Christmas -

Warnings: 18+ Content!! Public Sexting, exhibitionism, bit of an innocence kink, mentions of past sexual encounters, alludes to smut, m!receiving handjob, kinda alludes to d/s dynamics, public m!orgasm.

Kie, Sarah, Pope, and you, all managed to slip away from your separate homes, after much difficulty and help from JJ and John B, to spend time with your found family on Christmas day. JJ had gotten a cheap Santa’s hat and spent the late morning beside the tiny Christmas tree passing around your gifts and ho ho hoing as you all laughed before flopping next to you on the couch with a wet kiss to your temple once he was done. The rest of the morning, and well into the afternoon, was filled with mini arguments over the best Christmas movies leading you all to decide you’d be watching every single one of each of your favorites to find out once and for all which was the best.

It was fun in theory, getting to cuddle up next to you and enjoy time with all your friends, and in the beginning it was rather entertaining, but JJ began to lose interest halfway through Elf two movies in and was finding it difficult to stay still and focused on the small screen infront of him. His arm that was draped over your shoulders to hug you into him slowly slipped off of you to pull his phone from his pocket, quickly typing something as you watched him confusedly before your phone was vibrating in your pocket.

Jay❤️: im bored Baby

You: How can you be bored watching Christmas Vacation?!

Jay❤️: its boring.

You gasp beside him, eyeing him with narrowed eyes before turning back to your phone with your eyebrows scrunched, vigorously typing on your phone as JJ watched you with a smile, deciding that trying to get you all riled up and bratty would be a much better way to spend his day.

You: Blasphemy.

You: This is a classic!!!!!

JJ chuckled down at his screen, thinking of what could get you more annoyed, before hurriedly typing and turning his phone away while you craned your neck to try and catch a glimpse at his message before it was sent.

Jay❤️: idk about that. its not like its one of the santa clause movies or something. besides your not even watching it your texting me….

You: You’re*

You: Christmas Vacation is older so more of a classic now stop distracting me☹️

JJ huffed out a sigh as he watched you swipe up the messages app, revealing your new home screen to be a picture of you both on the HMS a few days ago when you all went out to swim. More specifically, a picture of you in his favorite bikini, which flashed for only a second before you locked your phone, turning to him with a smile and chaste kiss to his lips that had his pants tightening quickly. What you hoped would satiate his attention-seeking instead made him needy for you as your taste always did, sometimes all it took for him to get riled up was the scent of your hair or a simple bat of your eyelashes and he was ready to shove you against the nearest flat surface.

He loved to ruffle your perfect feathers and get you riled up, whether it was you telling him off for distracting you from studying, or begging him to fuck you in ways you never could have imaged before him. You always tried to hide how much you loved his careless attitude, it was something he always adored about you, even when you were just friends wishing there was no such thing as “No Pogue On Pogue Macking”. But he never missed how your cheeks would go red when he fought someone at a party in the boneyard, snaking his hand in yours after and taking you to get a drink as though he didn’t have bruises growing on his hands and knuckles. And he definitely didn’t miss how you clenched your thighs every time you were caught making out in public or accidentally walked in on while occupying the bed at the chateau.

When he finally pulled himself out of his thoughts, JJ had to readjust his hips as you unknowingly leaned your head on his shoulder, he winced slightly and suppressed a moan when his hardening dick rubbed against the seam of his shorts. Your worried, confused eyes looked up to him from his shoulder and only worsened the ache in his lower abdomen as he tugged at the thin sheet blanket covering both your legs to bunch around his now fully erect dick.

Jay❤️: im so horny

Your eyes widened at your phone, your cheeks growing warm as they painted red, your thighs subconsciously rubbing together while feeling JJ’s eyes on you. It took you a second to think of a response, letting out a giggle that sent him soaring when you started to form the message. He rested his head on the back of the coach forcing himself not to groan while watching you type, not so patiently waiting to receive it on his end.

You: Watching a family get attacked by a squirrel from their Christmas tree makes you horny?

Jay❤️: what the fuck is even happening in this movie right now….

You: See the movie’s not boring you’re just not paying attention.

Jay❤️: how can you expect me to focus when your sitting next to me like that Gorgeous

Those wide eyes met his after scanning over the text in front of you a few times with furrowed brows, your cheeks bright red making him smirk down to you, tilting his head towards your phone and urging you to reply.

You: I didn’t do anything though?

Jay❤️:fuck Baby all you do is exist and im bricked

You accidentally let out a squeak of a whimper hidden by the sound of the TV that he heard only die to his proximity, he was throbbing in his shorts already as you started and stopped typing, deleting and restarting at least four times before he decided to double text with a groan.

Jay❤️: you want proof?

You narrowed your eyes as him slightly, thinking to yourself about what he could possibly have in mind to prove this to you before your curiosity ultimately took over and had you nodding your head to your very needy boyfriend. JJ quickly but discreetly grabbed your hand, shoving it under the thin material hiding his boner and twitching at the gasp you let slip upon making contact. He was harder than you ever felt before, his entirely rock hard dick just from the thought of you was sending uncommon bursts of confidence and adrenaline your way, already anticipating what he could have planned for you.

Jay❤️: keep that there and feel what you do to me.

Jay❤️: im imagining the way you spread your legs for me in the mornings when you get all needy for my tongue

Your face burned hot as you read his text, feeling the throb of his erect dick in your hand as it warmed your palm. You willed yourself to keep your hand still despite a desperate beed to please him, knowing one or all of your friends could turn around at any moment and see the movement. But to your surprise the idea of being caught in such an act was only aiding in the growth of your desire.

Jay❤️: and how you clench around me just before you cum

Jay❤️: that thing you do with your tongue when you suck me off that drives me fucking insane

Jay❤️: oh fuck and that fucked face you make when i first enter you

JJ twitched in your hand as he typed the last message and soon you were subconsciously rubbing him through his shorts. Slowly moving your cupped palm along his shaft in an accidentally antagonizing manner, forcing JJ to bite his lips to hide a moan, stuttering in his typing and causing an error he’d have to fix.

Jay❤️: im always craving the way you taste when i make you cum on my tongue

Jay❤️: and when i get to watch you taste my cum. dont you love it Sweetheart?

You swore your breathing stopped, you kept thinking all your friends could somehow read your texts and knew exactly what your hand was doing despite being entirely focused on the screen in front of them. You stretched the thumb of the hand holding your phone, trying to from your response, eyes darting up to the four in front of you every few seconds while your hand hidden beneath the sheet began picking up it’s pace at the spark of your imagination and rush of adrenaline. Your thoughts were running rampant, thinking of JJ taking you right on the coach or forcing your to your knees for teasing him, imagining the punishments he’d think of as soon as you were in private was egging you on as you thought out your teasing messages.

You: Of course I do Jay, you’re my favorite dessert🥰

You: Always taste so amazing when you make me choke around your cum

JJ’s throat went dry as he read your text over and over, his brain growing foggy and filling with the thought of you moaning and gagging around him, his hand in your hair, pushing you to take him entirely, shivering at the thought of your tongue tracing one of his prominent veins to the start of his balls just as it always did. JJ was much more distracted than he intended, his initial thought process being that you would get flustered and tug him away to have some Christmas fun, but when you batted your eyes up to him with a harder pull of his clothed dick, he realized your burst of confidence. His breath caught and he twitched in your hand upon noticing you were thoroughly enjoying the public aspect of his pleasure just as he was, he was desperately trying to hide it before, feeling like a perv, but knowing that his sweet, innocent little girl enjoyed it too changed everything.

You eyed the side of his face as he began forming another message, watching his pleasure when your fingertips found the outline of his tip and began swirling over him slowly with a featherlight touch that had him gritting his teeth and suppressing a moan before you were slipping your hand back down him slowly. The way he had to bite his lip to silence himself, closing his eyes to toss his head back with an almost silent groan had your already damp underwear growing wetter while you awaited what was sure to be an inappropriate text.

Jay❤️: dont you want me to fuck you right now Baby?

You: I’d rather watch you cum in your shorts right here before I even touch you properly.

Jay❤️: jesus. since when were you in charge Cupcake?

You: Since right now.

Jay❤️: i fucking love it

You giggled at your phone, turning to see JJ’s blown out eyes observing you, a lazy smile adorning his face as your hand sped up upon eye contact. His eye lids began to flutter, drooping almost closed as your hand worked from his base to his tip, stopping at the leaking head with a smile before beginning to rub him quickly with the pads of two of your fingers. He jolted forward slightly with a sigh of pleasure, grabbing at your wrist to make sure your hand stayed exactly where he wanted it.

Your hand barley moved as your fingers swirled over his tip, you could feel his precum beginning to soak through his boxers and onto his shorts leaving a sticky feeling on your working fingers. His grip on your arm tightened, nails digging into you as he approached his high, moving too much in his seat and drawing your friends attention. Just as the coil in his lower stomach snapped, he was painting the inside of his shorts and boxers white, panting and biting his lips to suppress sounds while imagining you cleaning him with your tongue.

As his eyes refocused, JJ took account of the quiet scene unfolding on the TV and the questioning, almost mocking eyes of his friends. He chuckled upon noticing you were suddenly shy again, avoiding making eye contact by turning to him with pleading eyes. Another thing he loved, how you acted so innocent for everyone but him.

“We’re gonna go….um….take a nap” JJ lies, standing quickly as though the obvious dark spot on his khaki shorts was invisible, grabbing your hand aggressively and tugging you behind him over the couch.

“Yeah okay, just don’t “nap” too loudly we still have movies to finish out here,” Pope shouted, laughing with your friends as your face burned, JJ quickly led you into the other room and towards the bed, slamming the door loudly and making it quite obvious what would be happening.

“Those two can’t keep their hands off of each other, they’re like rabbits I swear.” John B stated with a chuckle and a shake of his head as he and Sarah migrated to the coach to claim the seats you and JJ had just vacated.

“Oh shut up John B, you two are way worse.” Kie jokingly snapped between laughs as she, Pope and the loved birds refocused on the movie, turning up the volume expectantly as the laughs died down.

~~~~

-Taglist-

@timmytime17 @talia-scar123 @spencer-reids-wife @ttsbaby01 @animorose @whydoireadanymore @thievin-stealing @spiderman-stilinski @evycloudberry @shady-the-simp @ashisabitgay @porterport @callsignwidow @cicicicicisstuff @mattheoriddleswifee @junebugin-july @moonlightreader649 @devotedlyshadowytheorist @rubyliquor @perverteddsdreams @mildly-delulu @fairydimples07 @shadowmoonlight0604 @80scinemvasworld @nevillescomslut @annaisabookworm @abaker74 @athenalikethegoddess @limeren @h-------n @kezibear @mattheoriddlemarcuslopez @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @curiousshifter101 @tobyr68 @spididerman @hedwigprewett12 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @kiwi475

[happilyhertale]

Words of love – Modern Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Summary: Despite your long-distance relationship, you leave no stone unturned to sweeten Aemond's time until you see each other again at Christmas.

Pairing: Modern Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW

Author’s note: English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 800

Other stories of mine

12 days of smuff

Aemond steps into his dormitory room and carefully closes the door behind him. He stops for a moment and listens, but he hears nothing – and that makes him smile. His flatmate left early for the Christmas holidays, leaving only silence in his wake.

He walks over to his desk and holds a letter from you in his hand. Slowly, Aemond unfolds the letter. Despite the physical distance and the different universities that separate you, your commitment to maintaining this relationship is palpable.

Although you are miles apart, you write a 'good morning' message every morning, a thoughtful gesture to fill his day with warmth and positivity. In the evening, the sound of your voices on the phone is interrupted by a tender 'good night' message that he is only allowed to read when you have hung up. And he lets you have this fun that he only reads your message once your conversation is over.

But above all, the exchange of handwritten letters has become a cherished ritual. Aemond, who embodies a delightful blend of old-fashioned charm and romance, articulates feelings that touch the depths of emotion. His unique way with words, often moving to tears, transforms the ordinary into something extraordinary.

In his hands, he holds a letter that feels more substantial than the usual mailings. He has no idea that the thickness of the paper contains something to brighten up the run-up to Christmas. A smile crosses his face as he opens the envelope and slowly pulls out one of your lace panties. He recognises the panties... he loves seeing them on you.

He holds it gently in his fingers and immediately these images pop up in his head. Images of you wearing the panties, either with nothing else on or you wearing his shirt and walking around his room. Almost immediately, he feels his trousers getting tighter around his loins.

But before he does anything about this building pressure, he looks in the envelope again, hoping that there will be a letter inside – and he finds it. Slowly, he pulls the letter out of the envelope.

He begins with the usual sentences that always bring a smile to his lips. Sentences about how much you miss him and how you're looking forward to him being home with you again. He always feels a certain warmth in these sentences and also how much he enjoys them and his eyes dart across the paper, savouring the sentences, that you long for him, this time he is somehow looking for other sentences. And he finally finds them as he reads on.

His smile widens as the sentence jumps out at him "... Until I see you at Christmas, I wanted to sweeten the time for you..." – and Aemond bites his lip.

And with the next sentence, his hand slowly slips into his trousers before he really realises it "... Imagine how I wear the panties... how I stand in front of you, my back facing you... How I slowly slide the panties down over my bottom...".

Before he knows it, his fingers have grabbed his member and start sliding up and down. He holds your panties in his other hand as his hand moves faster and faster, his heavy breathing breaking the silence in his room. In his head, fantasies of you standing in front of him with just the panties on, which he clutches tightly – the thought makes him grunt.

His hand slides faster along his length, precum gathering at the tip of his member as his it begins to twitch in his hands.  A loud moan follows as the thought of you pulling your knickers down, looking at him over your shoulder and biting your lip lightly, occurs to him. The thought of you leaning forwards slightly, your wet folds visible to him, follows and makes his member twitch violently again.

He closes his eyes and moans again as he imagines how he makes you moan every time you're together. How much he would love to thrust deep inside you right now. His fingers grip harder, sliding up and down faster, smearing your precum, his hips working against the motion to increase the friction as his other hand grips your panties almost desperately. Another grunt escapes him as he suddenly holds your panties to his hot member and it twitches dangerously. A loud moan lights up the room, ending in a grunt before he dresses your panties in white.

He watches as a little more cum lands on your panties with each pump. He breathes heavily, his hand slides up and down more slowly. The moans and grunts become quieter before he falls silent and leans back slightly in his chair with a smile.

He can hardly wait until he's back home to rip your panties off.

@hoshi-miharu-blog @arryn-nyx @aemonds-eyeball @praline357 @melsunshine @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @lauftivy @valeskafics @bl4ckph0enix @autumnhymns @fan-goddess @msmorningstaarr @believeinthefireflies95 @snh96 @echos-muses @bellaisasleep @aemondsbabe

[billthedrake]

HALL PASS

Story idea from @aestheticsupremacy

It was still summer warm as the two lacrosse jocks walked across campus after practice. Brian was going on about the chick he had a date with late that evening and was teasing Jake.

"Dude... if you ever wanted pussy, you'd be so set. Girls fucking love gay guys."

Jake laughed, his blond hair still on the lighter side from summer beach time. He and the star attacker got along great because they never BS-ed each other. "Bro, I don't think it works that way," he said, flashing his dimples. "Besides, I think all those sorority girls want a gay pal they can go to the clubs with. I can't dance worth shit."

"You can't," Brian grinned. "You got the moves on the field but, fuck..."

Both guys laughed as they entered the residence hall, one of the nicer ones where a lot of the athletes lived.

"Hey Jake!" the student worker at the front desk said when he saw the two jocks. "Some mail came for you."

"Mail?" he asked as the walked up to the desk. Normally, mail got delivered to their mailboxes, which Jake didn't check regularly. Who the fuck sends mail these days anyway, other than advertisers?

The desk guy nodded. "Yeah, certified or something. Looks important." He reached over and pulled out a document sized cardboard envelope.

"Hey, I'll catch ya later, Hoss," Brian said as he bumped fists with his teammate buddy.

"Yah," Jake said, then looked back down at the envelope. There was a familiar return address. It was his dad's work. Jake's father was a high-powered executive - not Fortune 500 but CFO for a top financial firm. Leave it to Dad to send paperwork in hard copy. Jake tried to rack his brain to guess what document was so urgent, but maybe it was some school form he needed to sign. Maybe Jake should take more responsibility for those things, but his dad tended to look after the details.

"Thanks, Mitch," he told the desk guy, then went to the elevators to go up to his room.

It was quiet in his room, since his roommate had taken off Thursday afternoon to go home for a long weekend. He got along well with Ed, a varsity baseball player, but they weren't real tight. And Jake liked having the alone time and privacy sometimes.

The lacrosse jock set down his phone and keys and shook his head with a chuckle as he opened the envelope. "You're so fucking old school, Dad," he said aloud. "I love it."

It wasn't a form inside, but instead there was a linen-white stationary with his Dad's company logo and his father's name and title embossed. "From the Desk of Steven J. Weir."

It was what was printed below that made Jake's heart stop.

"Dear Mr. Wier:

This letter serves as official notice that Jacob Peter Weir has his father's permission to have sex as often as he likes and with whomever he likes, from the date of August 20, 2023 to May 14, 2024. This arrangement will be extended in subsequent years unless the two parties renegotiate their terms.

sincerely,

Steve Weir"

There was his father's recognizable wide, cursive signature, undoubtedly written with one of his favorite blue-ink fountain pens that his family had given him for Christmas.

Jake was rock hard. "Fuck," he hissed.

Only then did he realize there was something else in the envelope. He reached in and pulled out three photographs, each 8x10 glossy portraits of this father. They were different poses of his dad in business attire, like professional headshots for a company website or something.

"Got your package," the jock texted his father.

It took a second but then a message came up from Dad: "You able to Facetime?"

Jake got a big grin as he hit the dial button to video call his father. His heart jumped a little as the image filled his phone screen. His dad was in his C-suite office and looking handsome as fuck in his tailored suit as his own horny grin matched his son's.

"Hey Sport," he said. "Looking good." He leaned back in his swivel chair and angled the phone to give Jake a better view of his suited upper body. He had a good knowledge by now of what pushed his boy's buttons.

"You too Dad," the jock hissed, reaching down to paw his crotch again. "I can't believe it's only been 24 hours since I've seen your face... fuck."

His father laughed. Because Steve felt the same way. He knew it would be hard when Jake went off to college, but he was going through sexual withdrawal in addition to the normal empty nest syndrome.

Only now his bright smile got a hint of nervousness. "What did you think of what I sent you, son?"

Jake felt that constriction in his throat. Sorta like the first time he knew he was gonna fuck his dad... that combination of sheer horniness and disbelief it was gonna happen.

"You know, Dad," the 19-year-old smirked, "A hall pass isn't an actual piece of paper."

Steve's brown eyes seemed bright. Happy. Excited. "I wanted to make it official. For you. For us." The exec was definitely getting that bedroom voice, and Jake could tell by the movement in his dad's upper body that the man was reaching down to unzip and haul out his cock.

For his part Jake tugged down his shorts with one hand to free his junk, which was firming up real fucking fast. His father had given him the encouragement to freeball it, and it was now Jake's preferred way of casual dress. It made him feel free and sexual.

Jake prided himself on the sexual confidence he'd learned to project with his dad, but times like this he still felt unsure, deep down. "I told you, Dad. I don't need to have sex with other guys."

"You're 18, Sport," his dad said resolutely. "A college kid should be spreading his wings."

Jake got a playful grin. His right hand was working up and down his bone while his left hand held the phone. "You really want me to fuck other guys?" he asked. Pointed. Challenging.

Steve shook his head no. "Honestly, no. I don't. But I want you to lead the life that's going to make you happy." His own fist was working up and down in his lap. "I want you to become your own man, Jakey."

Something about that nickname drove the jock wild. He felt a spurt of precum in his palm. "You think sending me 8x10 glossies is gonna make me happy," he hissed. Jake's tone was halfway between a statement and a question.

Steve loved watching his son get in horndog mode. He'd like to think he passed that on to Jake genetically, but something about the kid's sex drive seemed innate. And all Jake.

The exec's voice got low and gravely. "You tell me, son. Did they make you happy?"

Jake just let go of his prick and angled his phone down to capture the hard teen bone that stood up long and rigid. "This is the reaction those pics got." He pulled the phone back up to see the amused and pleased look on his father's face.

"I'm glad," Steve said. Then with a pause, he angled the phone to show Jake his own fatherly prick, standing out from his unzipped suit.

"I wish I could suck that, Dad," Jake said, enjoying the freedom to talk aloud like this. "I wish I was there right now."

"You primed for some office sex, Sport?"

"Fuuuckk, Dad." Jake's fist was now steadily pumping his jock bone. "I'm still pissed off you won't let me fuck you there."

That got a laugh out of his father. The 49-year-old was even more handsome when he smiled. "You're a spoiled brat, you know that?"

"Fuck yeah I am," Jake shot back, getting into the zone with the teasing sex talk with his father. It came to them so fucking easily. "Something about nailing your dad regularly will make you that way."

That got a soft growl from the executive, and Jake watched as his father reached up to flip his tie over the shoulder of his suit coat, getting it out of the way.

"Damn, you gonna cum on your shirt today, Dad?"

Steve shook his head. "Hopefully not... but just in case. You get me so worked up, Sport." Off screen Jake knew his father had gone back to stroking his hard dick.

"So, Dad... if I take you up on that hall pass... what are you gonna do?"

"Whaddya mean, Jakey?"

"I mean..." the teen's own fist was working up and down his cock. "Does that mean you get a hall pass, too?"

"That's not part of the deal," Steve said, his brown eyes now wide with excitement. "But Buddy... I honestly don't know how I'm gonna get through this year. I guess I'll be doing a lot more of what I'm doing right now."

That got a matching growl from his son, whose hand moved faster and faster on his prick. "A fucking waste of dad cum."

That got a grin from Steve. "You like my sperm, huh, Jakey?"

"Can't get enough, Dad," came the immediate response. For a confident top when it came to fucking, Jake loved to taste his dad's prick and to eat his father's semen. When he wasn't sucking his dad off, he'd be licking the cum off the man's well-fucked body.

The jock felt another spurt of precum when his Dad brought the phone down close to his crotch, that solid, thick seven incher sticking out from the unzipped suit trousers.

"That's my dad," Jake growled. He'd have to find a way to have phone sex more often.

"Wanna cum for me, Jakey?" Steve asked, his voice signaling he was already on the edge.

"Nah," the jock said. "Hold off one second," he urged. He set down the phone and stripped off his T-shirt and kicked away his lax shorts. He then angled the phone just right on his desk and stepped back. Even from the distant view, he could see his dad's face will up the phone screen.

"Damn..." Steve growled. "That's my boy."

Jake felt fully alive, head to toe, as he stroked his cock and showed off for his father. He knew he was a good looking stud, with a great toned, athletic body. But his father's approval made him feel that much studlier.

"So Dad..." the teen asked. "If I used that hall pass, you wanna hear about the guys?"

"I don't know, Sport," Steve said with visible mixed feelings. "I'll let that be your call, OK?" He watched his son intently, as if it was the last chance he'd see Jake naked and hard. "I almost didn't send it," he confessed.

That made his son grin and Jake removed his fist from his dick, showing off the erection by swinging it side to side. "Yeah? It was so fucking hot to read it, Dad. You know, that you'd even send it."

"I'm glad, Jake," came Steve's reply.

"We're you hard writing it?" the son asked.

Steve's voice got soft and low. "I was, son."

"You want me spreading my wings in college, huh?" Jake's hand resumed its stroke. He really wanted his dad to cum first today but he didn't know if he'd be able to hold off.

Fortunately, Steve was getting into the zone now. Jake could only see his face, not his cock or masturbating fist, but he recognized that horny tone in his father's voice. "God, Jakey, you're such a fucking stud... seems wrong if you can't enjoy college a little, you know?"

Jake grinned, getting into a slow stroke that seemed to keep things on the boil without erupting over. "Maybe I'll line up some hot coach to fuck... but you know if I do, I'll be thinking of you the whole time, Dad."

That got an audible groan from Steve. Which only encouraged Jake to go further.

"Yeah, I'll be balls deep in some daddy ass and have to shut my eyes so I can think of my father... of fucking you..."

"Yes," Steve hissed. He was getting closer to cumming.

"of bending my dad over his office desk and pulling down those suit pants of yours..."

"You're not gonna stop pestering till you get that will ya, Jakey?"

"No, sir. I wanna get my way. Nail you hard to that expensive desk of yours... in your expensive suit... to thank you for all that expensive tuition you paid over the years."

This was new territory for the Weirs. They'd never talked about money, other than some of Steve's jokes about how much Jake's private school cost and some practical dad-son talks about personal finance. But Jake was bringing it into the sex talk and both men were surprisingly turned on by it.

"FUCCK!" Steve cried a half second before choking his reaction to be quieter in his office.

"Go for it, Dad!" the lacrosse jock said more openly. He stepped up closer so he could see his dad's face as he rode out an intense orgasm. "Nice!"

Steve's face was flush red as he caught his breath. "Goddamn, I needed that," he said. Then playfully he tilted his phone down. Huge splotches of his pearly white seed dotted his dress shirt after all.

"Cumming!" Jake cried, unable to hold by his ejaculation now. Steve had to look, had to watch his Jakey in full nut. It was just a beautiful sight. The only thing more beautiful was watching Jake orgasm as he was buried deep inside his father.

"Attaboy, Sport," he encouraged. "Goddamn, that's a huge nut."

Jake grinned as he felt the aftershocks. Playfully, he squeezed out dribbles from his long piece of jock meat and brought it up to his lips to taste. Not his dad's but a second best. Jake just loved the flavor of cum.

He could now tell his father was wiping off the cum from his shirt and his cock before pulling the phone back.

"That was incredible," Steve said.

"I'll say. I'll have to thank Rich for giving me the free time," Jake laughed.

"Is he away?"

Jake nodded. "All weekend. Maybe we can go long and deep this weekend, you know, edge a little."

Steve grinned. "I'll try, Sport.... awful hard to last with you, you know."

"Yeah, I know," Jake agreed.

His Dad seemed happy and yet sad at the same time. "Listen, I should go."

"Yeah," Jake said. "I need some dinner."

"I miss ya, Sport," Steve said. "So much."

"Miss ya too, Dad."

****

Steve felt nervous all Saturday. Jake had suggested they wait till later in the day for phone sex. The father tried to kill time with household chores and a super long session at the gym.

"You're a fucking mess, Steve," he said to himself as he drove home from the fitness center where he'd been spending a lot more time since the divorce and especially since he and Jake started fooling around. It felt wrong to be so attached to his own son, and yet he was.

There was a package on his front porch. FedEx Saturday delivery. Steve picked it up.

"What the fuck?" Steve laughed as he saw his son's dorm as the return address. "That little bugger."

As he opened the door and stepped in, the man squished the sides of the plastic package-envelope. It was soft inside. Steve opened the end with the pull tab.

As he pulled out the fabric, Steve Weir recognized the shorts immediately. They were a well-worn pair of Jake's high school lacrosse shorts. Wadded inside was a worn jock strap.

"Jesus," Steve hissed with excitement. Maybe Jake wanted him to have these for their session today. Or maybe this was just for the times it was Steve, alone in his bedroom, imagining a grown son who wasn't there with him.

Either way, Steve knew both the shorts and the jock were gonna be crusted with his own cum before long.

It was only after a second that he noticed scraps of paper on the floor. They'd fallen out, hand torn.

Steve immediately sensed what they were, and a quick look confirmed it. It was the hall pass he'd sent Jake.

"Man, buddy," he said aloud in the quiet room as he pulled out his phone. He had to call his son.

"Hey Dad"

"Oh, Jakey..." Steve said.

"You got it."

"Yeah, I got it," his dad replied. "You're not doing this just to make me happy are you?"

"Maybe," Jake said. "But not really. I don't know, Dad. I just realized I'd rather have blue balls than fuck a substitute you, you know?"

"Sport, that's the most fucking romantic thing anyone's ever said to me," Steve beamed.

That made his son laugh. "Yeah, that's me, one romantic fucker... just promise me one thing, Dad."

"Anything," Steve said.

"We gotta find away to see each other through the semester. Yeah, I know you want me to go off and be my own man. But I can't wait till Thanksgiving. For real, Dad."

"Yeah, we'll make it happen. I'll come down next week. And fly you up whenever you want. Promise." This was a backpedal from the promises Steve made himself when Jake went off, but he realized he was happy changing his stance.

"Cool. God, Dad, I love you."

"Love you too, Jakey," Steve said. He looked down at the scraps of paper and everything they represented. "And son... next time you're here, I'll let you fuck me on my desk."

[lululandd]

being captain john price’s significant other would include:

>:3

♡ quick maffs.

you know for a fact its faster to ask him than to get your phone out, unlock it, open the calculator app, and typing the numbers in. it’s a blessing, really.

♡ never missing any appointments.

he just… rmemebers. man has near eidetic memory and even when he’s away at work he would message you to remind you of an appointment. man does not forget.

♡ would i lie to you?

price watches this show religiously. borderline obsessive even. can he find their tell on first watch? can he guess if its true or false? if you're both watching he would tell you tidbits about how to spot lies and all that. he had only been caught off guard twice watching this show. once was the one with claudia winkleman and her pet turtle yoshi, the other was kevin bridges accidentally buying a horse.

♡ lots of emoji replies.

you could be asking him for a quickie and he would answer with a “🤔🕦❓ 🕚❓”

♡ knowing features on your phone that even you dont know about.

“longpress the spacebar, love, it’s faster.”

“you can screenshot whole website pages, you don’t have to take individual shots.”

♡ zero tolerance for childish/bullshitty behaviour.

hes a funny man. silly. goofy. hilarious even. loves bantering around and mucking about. but the moment you try to act out to get in trouble or do something stupid for attention, he’s immediately captain john price. the change is drastic, immediate, and you don’t ever wanna see it again. mans has discipline ingrained into every fibre of his being and would not tolerate anything that could jeopradise both your image and your safety.

♡ having Nik and Gaz around on random holidays.

one day he just brought them over for christmas. Nik brought a simple two layered medovik (honey cake), and Gaz brought in potato dauphinoise. to this day you cannot replicate both dishes to perfection no matter how hard you try.

♡ random phone calls on random hours of the day no matter if he’s on duty or at home.

“hello?”

“allright?”

“yes john im fine.”

“good.”

and then hangs up.

you will never forget the one time he was so absorbed in research and paperwork that he called you. from the next room. you came into his study and he looked at you dumbfounded for a couple of seconds before you both burst into laughter.

♡ english breakfast.

in every brand imaginable. he likes certain brands in the morning, some brands he says are better drank during the rain or some shit like that. you tried pranking him by just giving him assam tea to see if he can tell the difference, and apparently he can distinguish immediately by smell so there goes that prank :’)

[heartbreakprincehbk]

Lucky (Kerry Von Erich x Reader)

Words: 2401

Summary: Requested by anon! Reader isn't into Valentine's Day, but Kerry insists on giving her a surprise Valentine's Day date at home. Thanks for the request, hope y'all enjoy!

*images from pinterest

“Any plans for Valentine’s Day tomorrow?” You looked up briefly in mild annoyance and had to remind yourself it wasn’t the grocery store clerk’s fault that they happened to be the third person to ask you that this week.

“No.” You said, giving a stiff smile as you gave them the cash for your items. 

“Yeah, I understand. This time of year is no fun single.” They said, continuing the conversation as they counted out your cash. You debated whether it was worth it to correct them before deciding to keep your mouth shut. “Well, have a great day anyways.” You mumbled something of the same and grabbed your groceries, purposefully looking away from the big Valentine’s display of candies and flowers on your way out of the store.

It wasn’t that you hated love, or even that you were single, it all just seemed kind of pointless. A big over-commercialized competition to make everyone feel bad as though they had to quantify their love with big expensive displays of affection. You simply believed that showing your love in other ways every other day of the year meant more than a big show one day of the year.

Besides, with Valentine’s Day falling on a Saturday, you were more than certain your boyfriend, Kerry Von Erich, was going to be slamming other men into the wrestling mat. You were used to that sort of thing, and it was much worse not having him around on Christmas or Thanksgiving. It was nearly impossible to complain; you knew it bothered him more than you from the pained look in his puppy dog eyes every time he had to leave. You did your best not to make him feel any worse about it. You could handle one Valentine’s Day alone compared to those.

Kerry knew you weren’t a big fan of Valentine’s Day. The very first one you spent together, Kerry had given you a dozen roses, a giant teddy bear, and chocolates, and while you thanked him, you very quickly let him know your preferences. 

“You don’t have to spend all that money on me, it’s not a big deal.” To say he was confused was an understatement.

“Is this a test to make sure I actually still buy you gifts next Valentine’s Day?” Kerry checked. 

“No!” You giggled. “I just don’t think it’s necessary to make a big deal out of one day and waste money.” You hoped he got the message. Really, just being with Kerry was a gift of its own. 

Now, another Valentine’s Day was upon you. So far so good as you woke up with no fanfare. Kerry had already gotten up and was working out in the garage as per usual. When you finally made it downstairs to make some breakfast, Kerry made his appearance. He froze when he saw you.

“Good morning,” you greeted him. He hesitated, looking you over like you were a word puzzle he was trying to figure out. Eventually, he was able to speak. 

“Hey–oh, good morning. So hey, baby, uh…so, my mom and Mike wanted to take you to lunch today.” He explained somewhat awkwardly. You frowned a little.

“But I just saw her for lunch yesterday. She didn’t mention it.” You said. Kerry scratched his head, avoiding your gaze and giving a half-shrug.

“Yeah, uh…well, I think it was last minute. Maybe, uh…Mike’s idea.” You frowned a little. “I gotta shower and go meet Kev. My mom said she would pick you up around 1 pm.” Your frown deepened.

“Okay.” You said, smiling slightly when he pressed a kiss to the side of your head on his way out of the kitchen. 

Doris was right on time with Mike in tow. The three of you went into town to the local deli, where Mike proceeded to take much longer than normal to eat his sandwich. 

“Are you feeling okay?” You asked him. Normally, Mike inhaled his food in three seconds. He looked panicked at your question and took a big bite of his food, prolonging his response.

“I’m fine. Why?” He asked, eyes shifting. You laughed a little. “I’m not acting weird.” From the corner of your eye, you saw Doris shaking her head.

“I didn’t say you were acting weird, but I’m wondering if I need to go complain about your sandwich because normally it would have been gone by now.” You said casually, smiling as Mike’s eyes grew even more panicked.

“No, no! It’s uh, good. Really. I’m just…trying to eat slower. You know, um…avoid choking.” You were biting back a laugh. “Um. Do you have any plans tonight?”

“Mike.” Doris reprimanded. 

“It’s okay.” You said, smiling. “No, I’m just planning on catching up on cleaning and maybe I’ll treat myself to a hot bath and tea or ice cream or something. I know Kerry has his show; if it were closer I would be there.”

“You know, it’s been nice weather the last few days for February. I haven’t had to worry about the plants freezing.” Doris said suddenly with a smile. You nodded, listening pleasantly to her latest tale of trying to keep her vegetable garden alive. 

After lunch you assumed you would all go separate ways, until Mike blurted out. “Uh, Y/N, I was gonna meet Kev at the record store down the street. Do you want to come?” You frowned a little.

“I thought Kerry was meeting Kevin somewhere today?” Mike swallowed.

“Oh, uh…maybe, maybe earlier for a second, but Kev said he was free this afternoon.” 

Your mind was turning. Had Kerry lied to you? You did your best to hide your thoughts as you said goodbye to Doris and walked with Mike to the record store. 

You were positive Mike sifted through every record in that store, but you knew how much music meant to him, so you said nothing and waited patiently, flipping through a stack on your own here and there. You noticed after a while he was hanging on to an Eagles record. 

“Is that a good one?” You asked. Mike shrugged shyly.

“I’ve had my eye on it for a while.” You smiled and took it from his hands.

“My treat. Come on,” his eyes stretched wide. 

“What? Really? But Y/N, you don’t…”

“Tell me if it’s any good.” You insisted as he followed you to the checkout line. “You know, you’ve shown me some great stuff already. I always go to you if I want something new.” You smiled at the way the youngest brother averted his gaze with a bashful chuckle, his cheeks already turning red. Right as you were paying, Kevin walked in the door. 

“Hey you two. Mike, what did you find this time?” Mike excitedly showed his record to Kevin who nodded in approval, before he looked at you. “C’mon, you two. Let’s get you home, Y/N.” He seemed to be in a hurry; that made sense due to the brothers having a wrestling show a town over that night. 

You wanted to ask Kevin about Kerry, but you knew it wasn’t really Kevin’s place or fault if Kerry was lying to you. Was it possible that he had met someone else, was he using the holiday to woo some new girl, maybe a fan he had met? Suddenly, the idea of Kerry waking you up with a dozen roses sent a longing pang through your heart, but you pushed the thought away. You would simply ask Kerry later. 

For now, you focused on the moment you had with Kevin and Mike, laughing in the car together about the last time Ric Flair was in town and the less than welcoming reception he had received, and how Kevin had nearly taken the win and trying not to give into the disappointed feeling creeping up on you.

“See you boys,” you said as Kevin’s truck pulled up in front of your house. “Good luck tonight, Kev. Enjoy that record, Mike!” They both waved and you sighed a little, walking up towards the sure-to-be empty house. The sun was beginning to set ever so slightly, the sky growing more orange and casting shadows over the lawn. Now alone, you allowed yourself to feel crest-fallen. 

You pushed your key reluctantly into the lock, resigning yourself to the evening you had described earlier, only to stop once the door swayed open. In the distance, you could hear faint music playing. You listened for a moment, frowning in confusion. It was a cheesy ballad—Cyndi Lauper’s “Time After Time.” The lights were off, and you made your way towards the kitchen, where the music was loudest and a hint of warm light was spilling into the hallway.

“Kerry?” You called, gasping at what you saw. Kerry was standing waiting next to the dining table, fighting a big smile, his chin raised and hands behind his back. He was wearing jeans and an apron designed to look like a tuxedo with nothing underneath. The table was covered in a white table cloth and at the center was a big vase of cascading roses, along with more scattered rose petals and two dinner plates. Candles were everywhere, from the table to the kitchen counters, and even a few tea lights on the ground.

“Kerry! What is all of this?” You demanded, frozen on the spot, laughing at his apron. An overwhelming sense of happiness, love, and surprise filled you as you looked from him to the area surrounding you.

“I cooked dinner.” He explained, as if he were discussing the weather, laughing finally as you laughed.

“But why? Kerry, you should be halfway to Tyler right now for the show!” His grin widened.

“Yeah, I know. But Kev’s covering for me; he’s gonna wrestle the tag match and take my spot in the main event too.” 

“What! Why?” You repeated. Kerry laughed again as if you were missing the point and walked closer, wrapping his large arm over the top of your shoulders to pull you closer and kiss the top of your head. 

“You sure do ask a lot of questions.” He noted into your hair, making you chuckle. “Because you’re important and I love you.” He grabbed your hand and led you to the table, pulling out your chair for you to sit before sitting across from you.

“Kerry…” you breathed, looking down at the plate. It was a very impressive looking chicken Parmesan on a bed of pasta. “This looks amazing.” He smiled.

“Thank you. Just don’t look at the sink.” You giggled, imagining a mountain of dishes and utensils. “I’ve been practicing with mom the last two weeks. I think it turned out perfect this time—the first time the chicken was too tough. Anyway, I think I’ve nailed it now.” You were blown away by the effort; Kerry could cook simple and remedial dishes, but an entire entree was surprising. “Try it and tell me what you think.”

He seemed to be waiting to take a bite of his own food until you took yours. You stared at his anxious face as you took the first bite.

“Kerry, this is so good. Wow. You’re definitely gonna have to make this again.” He was back to glowing from your praise. “But, I mean, I still don’t understand why.” His smile softened.

“I know you always said you don’t want a big deal made out of Valentine’s Day and not to fuss over you, but…I can’t help it. I love you, Y/N. I want to do these things. You always said you don’t want me to buy anything, or go out anywhere, so I decided the best way to show you how much I love you is to treat you at home.” 

“And your mother and Mike? Were they in on it too?” Kerry laughed.

“I asked them to hold you up for as long as they could to give me time to decorate and cook.” Suddenly, everything made sense–Mike taking his time eating, dragging you through every corner of the record store, Doris trying to keep your mind off of Valentine’s Day, even Kevin. Suddenly you wondered how you missed all the signs. 

“And you didn’t actually go to meet Kevin.” He looked almost sheepish.

“No…I went to buy the flowers and everything else I needed. But I couldn’t tell you that.” You laughed, shaking your head at how silly your prior worries suddenly seemed. 

“I’m a little embarrassed, but…I was afraid you lied about meeting Kevin because you were meeting someone else and spending the day with them.” You admitted. Rather than getting angry or defensive or even offended, Kerry only looked confused. 

“What? I’d never do that to you, baby. I just wanted to surprise you. I’ve been trying to plan this out for weeks now, I think since Christmas.” A feeling of utter peace and contentment filled you. How lucky were you?

“Oh, Kerry…this is perfect. This is everything I could have wanted. Thank you.” You smiled, and he reached across the table to grab your hand with his much larger one. 

“No, thank you. I just wanted to make sure you were treated right on Valentine’s Day. Because I’m here, and as long as I’m here, you will be.” 

“And every other day?” You teased, laughing. Kerry grinned broadly, his thumb rubbing across your knuckles. 

“Especially every other day.” He promised. “Boy, cooking really gets you hungry.” He said as he picked up his fork again, making you laugh. “I rented a movie too for after, and maybe we can make some ice cream floats. Oh! I’ve been meaning to tell you, the funniest thing happened the other day. The last time Ric Flair came to town, he had a rough time. There was a kid chewing gum in the front row, and he didn’t like Flair, so he took the gum…” 

You listened enthusiastically to Kerry telling the story, despite the fact you had already heard the tale from Kevin. Instead, you settled into your chair and picked up your fork, focusing on the sparkle in Kerry’s eyes, the way the glow of the candles warmed his handsome features as the flames danced, the way his perfectly tousled curls framed his face. Your cozy little kitchen felt warmer than ever and so full of love that it radiated from every nook and cranny. Really, how lucky could you be?

[thewertsearch]

TG: i will be your server TG: and past me will stay as roses server TG: which is to say present me will TG: the one in the black suit GG: ohh… GG: i guess that makes sense TG: he can keep managing her for a while TG: until she sorta checks out soon and becomes totally useless

Rose is already detached from the party, following unseen orders in service of an unseen plan - but according to Dave, she's going to get worse.

This, I assume, is the point at which she becomes obscured from Kanaya's viewport. Rose is going to keep digging this hole, right up until she reaches some critical point on her timeline - and then, if I'm reading correctly between the lines, she's going to fall apart.

Final alchemy session, let's go!

Hey, calm down! Just because it's snowing outside doesn't mean it's Christmas just yet.

We're certainly getting close...

STEP OFF. … You decide he can keep the SORD….. though.

Abandoning your best weapon? A poor tactical decision by the Knight.

TT: Did you do anything on the moon besides rifle through my belongings? TT: Such as remove your shades and turn your gaze Ringward, by any chance? [...] TG: i did TT: What did you see? TG: horrible things [...] TG: when i saw them TG: their voices became clearer TT: What were they saying? TG: i couldnt really focus on anything specific TG: but TG: in totality TG: im pretty sure it was TG: like TT: ? TG: a plea for help

That's a little vague - but then again, they may be so alien to us that they're not able to communicate more clearly. This might be the closest thing to a human-readable message that the Gods can create.

This is probably a good place to put my transcription of the Squiddle song from Jade's nap. Much of it is unintelligible, but the parts we can hear are rather illuminating.

Squiddles are no ordinary friends, they work, and play, and work again. But they have homes, and mommies too; yes, they have mommies just like you.

Firstly, the Squiddles try to explain that they're not completely different from us. They're extraordinary creatures, practically incomprehensible to the Players - and yet, they have a home. They have loved ones. They play.

They repeat this assertion twice, as though they desperately want the Players to understand this.

So let them go to bed right now, so they can rest, and make cute sounds. If they can't rest they won't be strong …and they are really tiny.

They go on to say that they're exhausted. They need to rest, but something is keeping them busy. As a result, they're becoming 'tiny' and weak.

They can't make the 'cute sounds' that they're known for, which I suspect is a metaphor for the advice they normally dispense to Derse Dreamers, but I'm less sure about that.

[Unintelligible] …so let them sleep... …cause they will die if…

At this point, the music begins to fade out - but not before we hear that the Squiddles' lives are in danger. Something out in the depths of space is killing the Noble Circle of Horrorterrors.

Squiddle dee dee, squiddle dee dum. Everyone sing, a Squiddley song. Let's all be friends, And work as a team. Squiddles for you, Squiddles for me.

The final verse is self-explanatory.

It's unclear what, exactly, is happening out in the Furthest Ring, but it's dire enough that the Horrorterrors are reaching out to their neighbors, the Players of Sburb, and asking them to form an alliance.

We're seeing that alliance through Feferi, who has convinced them to blow the Dream Bubbles and link the two sessions. We're also seeing it through Rose, the only human Player willing to listen to the Squiddles' song - but her situation is more murky. I do think I understand her mental state a little better, though.

Rose is acting on Horrorterror advice - which means she's acting on whispers, corrupted images and half-heard fragments of a song. I don't think the Gods are manipulating her so much as they're playing a game of Telephone with her brain. They can't relay direct instructions, so the best they can do is transmit the vibe of what needs to happen, and the Seer has to figure the rest out for herself.

No wonder she's so evasive about her plan - I don't think she understands more than a quarter of it. She isn't nearly as in-control of the situation as she's pretending to be, and if she admits as much to John, she'd probably lose her nerve.

[songforeddiemunson]

Dear Tinseldick

For the @stcreators event 03: comfort

Dear Tinseldick

Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Actor!Fem!Reader (description vague apart from use of she/her pronouns)

Summary: Reader had a rough day at work and Eddie helps to cheer her up

Warnings/Tropes: Established relationship, pure comfort and fluff but content warning for body talk, body image issues and fatphobia, language, people being awful shits. Blink-and-you'll-miss-it naughty talk.

Note: One day I was daydreaming about what couples "in the industry" must vent about and I imagined this is something most actors would have to deal with at least at some point, if not all the time. I tried to treat the issue with the sensitivity and nuance that it deserves.

Word Count: 1500

Eddie stepped into your rented condo in LA, tossing his keys on the table by the door.  "Babe, are you home?“ he called.

“Out here,” you responded.  Eddie followed your voice and found you out on the balcony deck.  The house stood with its back deck facing the Pacific Ocean, on the edge of a small cliff.  There was a large porch suspended over the precipice, with a set of wooden stairs leading the 20 feet or so down to the beach.  You stood leaning against the balcony railing with your back to him as he stepped onto the porch; you held a glass of wine in one hand and a wadded-up ball of tissues in the other.

“There you are,” he smiled, and walked over to you, putting his arms around your waist.  You sniffled.  Eddie leaned back a bit to try to get a better look at you.  "Hey– is everything alright?  Did your audition not go well?"

“No,” you murmured. “No it did not.” You turned to face him, and only then could he see your red-rimmed eyes and the tracks of tears upon your cheeks.

“Oh babe,” he soothed, hugging you to his chest.  "I’m sorry. What happened?“

You sniffled against his shirt for a moment before pulling away, wiping your eyes hastily with the tissue in your hand. 

"It was going wonderfully.  And I’m not just saying that– I know I fucking nailed it.  And then the casting director had the gall to look me in the face and tell me…” you broke off as you fought tears.

Eddie ran his hands along your arms, making soothing noises.  "Oh honey, don’t cry.” The idea of you being upset was just too devastating for your man.  “What did he say to you?“

You took an angry swig of your wine before you continued.  "He told me I’d be perfect– if I lost weight.”  You took yet another gulp of wine as Eddie’s mouth fell open with shock.

“But–” he stammered.  "But that’s insane!  There’s nothing wrong with the way you look!“

You laughed bitterly.  "I mean, I’ve always been comfortable with my body, but apparently there’s a casting director who feels differently.“

Eddie seemed, for once, to be at a total loss for words. He sputtered in indignation for a moment before he shook his head and gathered himself.  "I want to beat his ass right now. Where’s this guy’s office?”

You laughed, somewhat touched. “As much as I’d love to have you throttle the bastard, he’s not worth it.”

Eddie scowled. “Fine, fine, but that loser is going to get a nice Christmas card in the mail from me, with a lovely little ‘go fuck yourself’ message. Nobody upsets my girl and gets away with it.”  He sighed, allowing his frustration to show. “You know you can’t listen to that idiot. You’re perfect, honey.”

“Please, Eddie. Nobody’s perfect,” you shook your head.

“Don’t argue!” he grinned. “You are perfect to me! Everyone else can shove it; what they think doesn’t matter.”

"But it does matter," you cried, your voice breaking.  "Things have been going so well with my career. I know that there can be real assholes in the industry, but I just thought I had established myself enough that I didn’t have to jump through these ridiculous hoops!"  You finished the last bit of wine in your glass and had to fight the urge to throw it off the balcony.  "Pardon the cliche, but I feel so…objectified!”

Eddie shook his head sadly. “It’s not a cliche if it’s true. I know, love. Believe me, I do.  I had a terrible time in the beginning– I’ve told you some of the stories… the shit that people expected me to do; the things that people said about me. But I kept going, and you will too.”  He grasped your arms and bent to look directly into your eyes.  "That casting director is a fool. Don’t let tinseldicks like him get you down.“

You managed a small smile.  "Tinseldick?”

He nodded. “Yes babe. The shiny skinny things you put all over the Christmas tree. It’s skinny like his dick.”

You burst out laughing. “I know what tinsel is! I just don’t think I’ve heard that particular turn of phrase before.”

“He deserves a special one,” he said with a mischievous gleam in his eye.  It faded quickly as his expression turned serious, however.  "I love you, you know. With all of my heart, body and soul.  I’d be lost without you. Do you believe that?"

You chuckled softly, without humor.  "Sometimes I actually do have trouble believing it; that you’re all mine, especially when total strangers force me to second-guess everything."

"You think I don’t feel that way too sometimes? My career might be booming, but I still feel scared. I doubt myself, get self-conscious. Sometimes right before I walk out on stage I have to talk myself out of a full-blown panic attack because I’m like, 'what am I doing here? Who do you think you are'?"

Eddie placed a soft kiss on your forehead and smoothed your hair away from your face.  "You must not let this industry change you. You are beautiful and amazing, and you should always remember that."

You felt that you could melt away into a puddle at his words.  "You are amazing, and you deserve all the success in the world. Your anxiety is lying to you." You pressed a firm kiss to his soft lips to show him you meant every word.  “I love you, Eddie,” you added. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“Darling, you bewitched me just by being you.”  

He pulled you tightly to him again, and held you for a moment.  You sighed against his chest, drinking in the scent of him, and realized that the majority of your anguish had been dispelled.  It was nearly impossible to remain upset in Eddie’s presence; the man was quite literally a walking ray of sunshine.

You looked up into his chocolate eyes and smiled.  

Eddie smiled back.  "Feel better?"

"Yes, actually.  You always know how to cheer me up; thank you. I just wish dealing with jerks wasn’t part of my job."

He sighed in acknowledgement.  "I know babe.  This whole industry is so pretentious and fake, and everyone is either a kiss-ass or a megalomaniac.  But we soldier on. By the way, thank you for not throwing your wine glass off the balcony."

That surprised you. "How did you know I was thinking of doing that?”

“I know you better than you realize, babe.  Also, you looked at the sand and raised your arm ever so slightly–”

“Shut your mouth,” you said with an impish grin, and tickled his waist. He darted away, laughing.  "I ought to throw YOU off the balcony!"

He grinned.  "Would you settle for throwing me into bed instead? I’ve had a long day, and I haven’t seen you naked in…oh, nine hours."

"It’s a deal," you said, and he put his arm over your shoulder.  You walked to the house together, but you had to separate to walk through the doorway in single-file.  As you stepped in front of him, he gave your butt a light smack.

"Hey, nice ass," he said.  "Don’t ever change it."

"You’re going to get it," you taunted, and tickled him again.

"Promise?" he replied, laughing, and you gave chase through the house.

A couple taking a nighttime stroll below on the beach looked up, startled, at the sounds of giggling and bellowing laughter that drifted down upon them from above. "Someone up there is having a good night," one said to the other.

It turned out to be true.

Thank you for reading! As always, comments and reblogs are the lifeblood of all fic writers. Please show us some love! :)

MASTERLIST

[hwaightme]

☆*:.masterlist.:*☆

Welcome to my masterlist! I try to update it asap, but lmk if I miss something! If you prefer ao3, click here. masterlist below the cut.

NETWORKS: @k-labels @kflixnet

DISCLAIMER:

Work with mature themes, NSFW, 18+ or triggering content SHOULD NOT BE INTERACTED WITH BY MINORS. If you see tags related to such themes and are a minor or do not feel comfortable, DNI!

These works are fictional and for entertainment purposes ONLY, and do not reflect the people mentioned in them as individuals. I am in no way associated with them, nor am I claiming to know them.

All moodboards have been created by me, but the credit for images included goes to their rightful owners. If you wish to use the moodboard, ask for permission and CREDIT ME. Reposting is not allowed.

Unless otherwise stated, all work and content is the intellectual property of hwaightme. DO NOT REPOST ON TUMBLR OR OTHER SITES and DO NOT TRANSLATE.

copyright © hwaightme 2022-4 | all rights reserved

[f] fluff || [s] smut || [a] angst || [sugg] suggestive || [tw] trigger warnings ||

[misc] miscellaneous || [hc] headcanons

ot8 series and headcanons

your fan, _____ [f] [sugg] - series with separate ml bf!ateez when you are working from home [f] [s] ateez as signs of love (relationship hcs) [f]

kim hongjoong

the chemistry of christmas [f] [sugg] (ao3) motivate me [s] (ao3) rewind and remix [a] a little bit of [f] avaritia [s] feverish [f] [misc] in the rain [f] hand hug [f]

park seonghwa

after hours on christmas eve [f] (ao3) feels like home (part 1) (part 2) [f] [sugg] [a]  (ao3) family for hire (series - separate ml) [f] [sugg] [misc] long exposure [s] [a] [misc] ft. wooyoung in memoriam [a] [s] bang bang [s] [misc] -> mafia!au love was spring [f] [slight a] making wishes [s] [f] ft. wooyoung this world [f] [s] [misc] -> biker!au take me back [s] [f] [slight a] -> biker!au cat named mars [f] [hc] -> catboy!hwa bonnie on the side [s] [a] essence [f] timezone [f] [slight a] page me [f] [festive fic!] impressionism [f] [misc] with you [f] [misc] [a] both [s] [f] feel alive [f] [a] [misc] panacea [f] [misc] dawn [s] [misc] my star [f] i will wait [f] lone soul [f] [misc]

jeong yunho

come fly with me [f] [slight a] [misc] all of me [f] the meaning of 'jeong' [f] [a] [misc] like the cherry blossom falls [f] guy.exe [f]

kang yeosang:

curiosity [tw] [misc] sangshine [f] [misc]

song mingi:

use me [s] [a] (ao3) use me part 2 [s] [a] [f] one new message [a] burning [f] [misc]

choi san:

wilting to bloom [a] safe and san [s] [f] golden hour [s] [f]

jung wooyoung:

grilled cheese philosophy [a] [tw] [misc] long exposure [s] [a] [misc] ft. seonghwa making wishes [s] [f] ft. seonghwa

choi jongho:

cliche [f]

[steddieholidaydrabbles]

❄️Welcome everyone!❄️

If you love the winter holidays as much as I do, then this challenge is for you! It’s pretty simple:

The calendar below has a prompt for every day of the month of December. No matter what holiday you celebrate or even if you don’t celebrate one at all, I hope you find one or more that you like! You can submit as many as you'd like (I plan to do one everyday) or as few as you'd like.

All drabbles should be between 300-1000 words. I will be using wordcounter.net to check them all before reblogging!

Please tag this blog @steddieholidaydrabbles when you post. You can also follow the tag steddieholidaydrabbles to keep up with posts.

All submissions should include a rating and any CW or tags that you feel are necessary. Please put the prompt you are fulfilling as well. It’s not required, but please consider putting Explicit material under a read more. A sample of this may look like: optional title rating: G/T/M/E cw: violence, blood, etc. tags: established relationship, first time, etc.

Because there will be SO many prompts, please try to only post your submission for a prompt ON that day by 11:59 pm EST. Really early or late submissions won’t be ignored, but could easily get missed in the mix of a different prompt on a different day. A reminder of the daily prompt will be posted at 12:01 am EST on the day of the prompt.

Any of the prompts could be holiday related if you wanted them to be, but it's not required!

1st - Open mic night

2nd - Came back wrong

3rd - Mutual pining

4th - Meet-cute at work

5th - FREE SPACE (Domestic fluff)

6th - Cooking together

7th - Hanukkah

8th - Idiots to Lovers

9th - No Upside Down AU

10th - First kiss/First time

11th - Royalty AU

12th - Only one bed

13th - Roadtrip/Vacation

14th - FREE SPACE (Angst with a happy ending)

15th - Time travel

16th - Modern AU

17th - Platonic Stobin

18th - FREE SPACE (Hurt/comfort)

19th - Enemies to lovers

20th - Magic AU

21st - Snow

22nd - Sports AU (players or fans)

23rd - Uncle Wayne adopts Steve

24th - Birthday

25th - Christmas

26th - "Who did this to you?"

27th - Coffee shop/Bookstore/Tattoo AU

28th - Proposal

29th - FREE SPACE (Spicy/Mature or Explicit)

30th and 31st - New Year's Eve/Resolutions

ARTISTS The submission must be made on the day of that prompt in order to be reblogged by this blog. The image must be Steddie, Steve, or Eddie focused (with the exception of Platonic Stobin day), though other characters can be included!

Collaborations with writers are encouraged!

Always tag this blog with your submissions so we can see them and reblog them.

If you have questions, message this blog or @steddieas-shegoes.

WARM UP ROUNDS SCHEDULE AND PROMPTS:

Same rules apply (300-1000 words each, must have rating and cw/tags, and tag this blog if you want it reblogged)

August 19th-21st: High School or College AU September 18th-22nd: Fall October 28th-31st: Halloween November 18th-22nd: Bakery AU Warm Up Rounds AO3 Collection

Steddie Holiday Drabbles AO3 Collection  

Week 1 Masterlist Week 2 Masterlist Week 3 Masterlist Week 4 Masterlist

[blues824]

I've got a FNAF request:

Michael Afton spending Christmas with his girlfriend who secretly wants to surprise him with a gift

I hope you have a splendid holiday

I hope you have a splendid holiday as well.

Not my image, found it on the internet.

Michael Afton

As he gets home from working the night shifts, he notices how you’re always hiding an object from him in a rushed manner. He trusts you in your relationship (which took a long time), so he knows that there is no need to suspect anything like cheating.

As it got closer to the 25th, you let him know that you were working on a surprise for him and that it would be ready for when he gets home on that day. He goes through that day excited for what you were going to give him.

On his way home, he had picked up a bouquet of roses from a local shop to give to you. He always loved small messages, and they were the iconic flower for ‘love and romance’. Even if you didn’t like the flower itself, it was the meaning behind it that he was trying to get across.

Once he entered the door, he was greeted by you giving him a hug and a kiss. He always told you that this was the best part of his day because you made him feel at-ease after a stressful day of dealing with animatronics.

You were flustered when he handed you the bouquet because you hadn’t expected him to get you anything. Gift-giving wasn’t your love language, so it was a bit out of the ordinary to get each other presents. 

You sat him down on the couch and told him to close his eyes as you went to go get his gift. He bounced his leg in excitement, giving the same energy as a golden retriever dog excited to see their owner after a long day. 

Once you place it in his lap, he sees that there’s a few more things on the coffee table. It was some more of his favorite energy drinks as well as a new video game. The gift in his lap was a picture of the two of you. A little while ago, you had taken a picture of the both of you on a date and decided that it was frame-worthy.

He pulled you into his arms after setting the photo on the table. He placed a few kisses on your face before placing one on your lips. You thought he was acting so adorable that you couldn’t help but coo at him, and he was soaking it up.

[queerweewoo]

SATURDAY SHNIPPET

posting apropos of nowt bc i've worked on this today and am a bit in love with it (cross your fingers for me the feeling lasts!). it's from my buddie accidental sexting wip partly inspired by the absolute masterpiece that is @wildehacked's I Love You But I Need Another Year. it's eddie pov with manchurian catholic undertones and i'm just under 5k and ed's hasn't even got a hand on his dick yet lmao. large font is the boys texts (buck's have Buck: as a precursor). buck's dating tommy 👀 as this is during the nun!marisol/pent-up eddie thing.

!! mature !!

.

Badly need to switch my brain off, you know? Just don't really know how to do that right now. 

Which is—a bit of a lie. Eddie's learned plenty of relaxation techniques over the years. He knows several breathing exercises and an array of calming mindful practices he could employ. It's just that Eddie's sort of become low key invested in whatever Buck's version of Eddie relaxing might be. Which is probably just because Buck knows him so well, and will be at least able to continue distracting Eddie till Eddie gets tired enough to drop off, right?

He really could do with loosening up first, though. 

Buck: OK. so you gotta think about like. something you don't usually think about…… 🧠❓🤔 

Fuck knows why but the Buck&Tommy porn reel is at once scrolling Eddie's brain again, his dick twitching a little in interest against his thigh—and Jesucristo, Eddie has to concentrate really fucking hard now to get his messed-up head somewhere very much other than his best friend's sex life. 

What is wrong with him?

Sure, Buck and Tommy fucking is definitely something Eddie doesn't usually think about, but shit.

He has to shake his head to dislodge the image of Tommy's hulking silhouette bracing Buck and he's really, truly hoping that his manchurian Catholicism hasn't been harbouring some sort of weird latent homophobia all this time. 

He just—really does not want to be thinking of Kinard while feeling this horny. Buck's image, however, is so familiar to Eddie, seared into the lining of his grey matter, that he's not really sure there is anything he can do about getting rid of it, not unless he wants to run the risk of the stuff he's so desperately trying not to think about sneaking it's way to the forefront of his mind once more. 

Buck: got something in mind? 

Um. 

Buck: picture it now

Buck: and i don't mean like the weekly grocery list or whatever btw

Buck: something sexy 

There's a record scratch in Eddie's brain. 

Hang. The Fuck. On.

Is Buck really doing what Eddie thinks he's doing? And is Eddie—is Eddie really contemplating just… Going along with it? 

Eddie's thumbs are moving across his phone screen of their own accord.

He can't let himself think sexy thoughts. All he can think of is Buck. But Buck did say something different?

Eddie types.

Yeah.

Fuck. 

Buck: alright. okay. take a deep breath. in fact take a few

Buck: and picture…… whatever it is. then start tracing your fingertips over your belly in small circles. start around your belly button. then make them bigger. big, sweeping circles

Buck: but slowly

Buck: and softly 

What in the name of Eddie's sanity is actually happening right now? And why is Eddie's body just—doing exactly what Buck is telling it, without Eddie giving it permission? 

Eddie's fingers are rough against the soft skin of his abdomen, the tips catching a little in the hairs just below his belly button. 

Like a bur on a sunny afternoon. 

He's thinking of Buck. Nothing sleazy, of course. Just Buck in his turnouts. Buck wearing that really nice burnt orange sweater Maddie and Chim got him last Christmas. Buck in a tank and shorts at the station gym. Just—Buck. 

And this, and touching his body the way Buck is telling him to, it all feels... It feels good, actually. Really fucking good. 

Buck: still with me eds? 

Eddie has to type the message out with his left hand, the right one busy drawing strange patterns over his own skin.

Ueah. Feels nice. 

¿Qué carajo?!

Buck: now do the same but up and down your thighs

Eddie does, and—oh, damn, it's—he really likes that. Thinks about Buck's hands doing the same over Buck's thighs. Wonders if Buck is doing it himself. Then he tries to worry about him thinking about that, but can't because Buck is texting him again.

Buck: and keep taking lots of big, deep breaths

Eddie breathes, big and deep, on Buck's instruction, and finds himself sighing quietly when he exhales. His fingers roam across his right thigh, then up the left, then up and over his belly, and back again. 

His phone buzzes against his chest. 

Buck: good? 

Eddie's picturing Buck holding his phone propped up on his own chest, other hand stroking his belly, just like Eddie.

Jeah. good

Buck: now touch your chest

Eddie keeps breathing, slowly, thoroughly, his hand doing exactly what Buck tells it. Then his fingertips skim over his right nipple and fuck, fuck he really likes that, so he finds the left one and does the same. Then he kind of rolls it between his forefinger and thumb pad before absently pinching at it—which rips this strange, strangled sort of sound out of him from somewhere deep in his chest, part gasp, part grunt, and his already fairly plump dick now springs up to full attention, bouncing slightly beneath Eddie's makeshift bedsheet blanket fort.

Buck: you still with me? 

Here. With yio

Eddie really, really wants to touch his dick—only Buck hasn't said that he can. 

Oh fuck, oh fuck, what the fuck.

.

play or nay, tags are under the cut! let me know in the notes if you'd like tagging if/when i finish this!

@inell @rosieposiepuddingnpie @sortasirius @angela-feelstoomuch @woodchoc-magnum @kitteneddiediaz @watchyourbuck @treasurehuntbuck @daffi-990 @eddiegettingshot @mazzystar24 @colonoscopys @shitouttabuck @lamardeuse @exhuastedpigeon @lamardeuse @veronae-buddie @wildehacked

[storiesforallfandoms]

your gift ~ pete davidson

word count: 1211

request?: yes!

“Could I request an imagine where you and pete are spending christmas together and you come im just wrapped in wrapping paper like you’re his gift and he just bursts out laughing because he’s awkward like that?”

description: for their first christmas together, she decides to give him an extra special gift

pairing: pete davidson x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

It had been many years since I had spent Christmas with a romantic partner. I didn’t expect too much for my first Christmas with Pete. We had only been dating for a few months, so I figured at most we might go see some Christmas lights and drink some hot chocolate. Imagine my surprise when he asked me if I wanted to spend Christmas Eve with him.

“If you didn’t already have plans with your family that is,” he said. “I know Christmas is supposed to be, like, a family thing.”

“I was going to ask you the same thing. You don’t want to spend it with your mom?”

He waved away my comment. “Please, she is basically insisting I spend it with you. Anything to get me out of the house.”

So, we agreed that he would stay to my place on Christmas Eve before we went to spend time with our respective families. From the moment Pete asked, I found that I was very excited for this Christmas.

We did way more of the cutesy couples Christmas stuff than I anticipated. We went to look at the Christmas lights around my neighborhood, got candy cane hot chocolate, got matching Christmas pajamas (well, I got the set, Pete just got the pajama bottoms). He even insisted on us decorating my Christmas tree together.

With every memory we made, the happier my heart became. It was probably the best Christmas I had ever had.

The night of Christmas Eve, Pete and I were curled up on the couch eating pizza we had ordered and watching some classic Christmas movies. I had a warm blanket thrown across my lap and that, plus the heat from Pete’s body, was enough to feel like I was going to be lulled to sleep. I closed my eyes and was close to drifting off until I felt Pete move under me.

“You’re not falling asleep already, are you? It’s not even 9pm,” he said.

I opened my eyes and looked up at him, sheepishly. “Can you blame me? I’m just so comfy, I could fall asleep right here.”

“You can’t fall asleep before presents.”

This sparked me enough for my eyes to open wide and to sit me upright on the couch. “Presents, you say?”

“Yeah. Haven’t you ever opened at least one present on Christmas Eve?”

“Not since I was a kid.”

“Well, if you don’t want to we don’t have to exchange gifts yet.”

“Now, I didn’t say that.”

Pete chuckled and stood from the couch. I watched him go, nearly bouncing with excitement. When he came back, he had both hands behind his back.

“I tossed it in a gift bag because my wrapping skills suck, so it won’t be that fun to open,” he said.

“All presents are fun to open. Just gimme,” I said, extending my arms and doing the grabby hands at him.

He laughed and pulled the bag from behind his back. I took it and ripped the paper out to reveal a stuffed bear inside. When I took the bear out and squeezed it, Pete’s voice came out of it saying, “Merry Christmas, baby.”

I looked up at Pete, who was smiling brightly at me.

“It’s from Build-A-Bear,” he said. “They had a Christmas line of bear clothes or whatever, and the workers there said that people usually recorded voice messages for whoever they were gifting to. Do you like it?”

It was a sweet brown teddy bear with a red and green Christmas sweater and little images of candy canes on its feet. I hugged him close, Pete’s voice repeating the earlier phrase.

“I love it,” I said.

“I thought you might. Just in case, though I did get you something else with the bear.”

I held the bear out to see a golden locket around its neck. When I opened the locket, there was a picture inside. It was one of the first pictures Pete and I took when we started dating.

I stood from the couch and wrapped my arms around Pete. “Thank you so much. I love them both, Pete.”

“I’m glad you do, honey.”

Now was the part where I had to make up some reason why I didn’t have Pete’s gift.

I had meant to tell him when he came over. I had gone to my sister’s place to wrap presents and left them there so she could bring him over to our parent’s place. I realized only after getting home that Pete’s gift was left there, too. I was planning to give it to him on the day after Christmas after spending time with family.

And now, after he had given me the best gift I could’ve ever received, I had to tell him I didn’t have one to give back to him.

Unless...

I pulled away from our embrace to look at Pete. “I have to go get your gift. Stay here.”

“Okay.”

I went to my bedroom and dug wrapping paper out from the back of the closet. I unrolled a very long strip and ripped it from the roll. I managed to wrap it around my torso and legs, taping a few pieces down so it stuck to me. I grabbed a red bow as well and stuck it to my forehead for effect.

“Okay, make sure you close your eyes!”

I heard him laugh but got no further response.

“Are they closed?” I asked.

“Yes (Y/N)!”

I quickly shuffled out form the room, trying not to rustle the paper too much. Pete was sat back down on the couch, his eyes closed and the bear he had given me sat on his lap as they both waited. I positioned myself in front of him, making sure the wrapping paper would stay up and the bow stayed on, before saying, “Okay, you can open your eyes.”

The minute he looked at me, Pete burst out into laughter. I started laughing with him, knowing how ridiculous I looked.

“I think I already have this gift,” he said, standing from the couch again. “Did you keep the receipt? I may have to return it.”

“Nope. You’re stuck with it.”

“Oh well, I like it enough.”

I giggled as Pete leaned down to kiss my lips.

“I do have an actual gift for you,” I assured him. “I just left it at my sister’s. I meant to tell you and totally ended up forgetting. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. I don’t mind waiting to get it. And besides, this gift is the best thing you could’ve ever gotten me.”

Oh, how he makes my heart flutter.

He kissed my again, the crinkling of the wrapping paper reminding us that I was still “wrapped up”. Pete looked down at me and started laughing again, shaking his head at me.

“Can I unwrap more than just this paper?” he asked.

“Well, we do have all night.”

Pete made quick work of ripping the paper from around my body and tossing it to the floor, along with the red bow on my head. He picked me up in his arms and carried me back to my bedroom, our pizza, the movie, and my new stuffed friend forgotten on the couch.

[sarahanimeavenue]

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