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harryspet · 5 months

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bambi eyes (the holiday special) r.cameron

[Warnings]soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, NONCON, dd/lg, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, heavy on the somnophilia, ittle editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

word count: 1.6k

In which it's your first Christmas Eve with your Daddy, you don't know what you want but Rafe surely does.

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You could think of three things that you wanted for Christmas. Colored pencils, glitter lipgloss, and a small stuffed animal for Bunny. You don’t need any more clothes. You’d been with Rafe for over a month, and there were still clothes in your wardrobe that you had not worn yet. Your room was heaven, with the softest sheets and pillows, and Rafe bought you even more playthings each week.

Your last gift was a diamond bracelet Rafe gave you because of how well you behaved in front of his friend, Barry. He didn’t punish you for sneaking around downstairs. All you had to do was bring him a slice of cake and sit down on Rafe’s lap while the two of them talked about “getting rid of their problem.”

There were several trees around the house, but the biggest one was in the living room, by the fireplace, and it was at least two times your height. There were at least twenty presents underneath the tree already, wrapped neatly in paper that was decorated with pink snowflakes. In cozy reindeer pajamas, ones Rafe had also purchased, you sat near the tree checking over your letter to Santa. Although you had a feeling Rafe might secretly be Santa, you let a small part of you believe it was real magic.

Lana helped you write the letter, and now you were adding a few drawings and stickers to really jazz it up. It took you longer to write it than Rafe preferred, it was already Christmas Eve, but if Santa could somehow bring you exactly what you wanted tomorrow, you’d really believe in him.

“You almost finished, baby?”

You looked up to see Rafe entering the living room, most likely finished with his work day, “I couldn’t think of anything else to ask for,” You said quietly, remembering how much Rafe encouraged you to ask for absolutely anything. The truth was you never had anything so you didn’t know what to ask for, “I don’t think I need anything else. But I wrote a nice letter for Santa and I thanked him for everything he does. And I made it sparkly.”

Rafe made himself comfortable on the couch and you brought over your letter, “C’mere,” He said, pulling your legs over his lap before wrapping one arm around you, “This is beautiful work, kid. Santa is going to love it.”

You looked up at him, a smile on his face as he read the words over, “What did you ask Santa for, Daddy?”

“Well, since I already have you,” He squeezed you, making your heart leap in your chest, “I asked Santa to make sure that you have the best Christmas. That you’ll love every gift you get and we’ll have a nice, Christmas dinner.”

You smiled back at him, “I wish I could buy you something, Daddy.”

“No need,” Rafe leaned in to kiss the side of your forehead, “I like giving to you, and I have plenty of money for the both of us. Besides, you’re way too little.”

When Rafe looked at you, he really looked at you. He held your face in his hands, not tight enough to bruise, so you wouldn’t look away. You were still learning not to feel shy under his gaze. You started to understand that you were just like the gifts sitting under the tree. You were Rafe’s gift to himself. He showed his possession of you through his gaze.

“Your bows are a nice touch,” He complimented, taking notice of the red ribbons tied around your pigtails. Every morning you spent time doing your hair, and you were slowly learning how to do your makeup. When he noticed your efforts, you felt you were fulfilling your purpose, “And I already knew you’d look cute in your pajamas.”

Rafe liked it when you presented yourself a certain way. He liked things to be dainty and soft. He preferred small jewelry over statement pieces. Pastel colors over bright ones. And you should never have on too much makeup. Lipgloss was better than lipstick and concealer over foundation. He wanted you muted but pretty, just like your personality.

“Thank you,” You batted your lashes.

Rafe and you continued your cozy evening in the living room. You’d made it through the first two Home Alone movies and were now in the middle of watching The Polar Express. Rafe excused himself to the kitchen for a moment, taking the chance to prepare some hot cocoa for the two of you.

When Rafe returned to the couch, you were sound asleep, your arms wrapped around Bunny. Quietly, he set down the cups of cocoa on the coffee table, and the thought of waking you up crossed his mind. After all, your drink would get cold, but you seemed like you were resting deeply.

Gently, Rafe laid down next to you. You didn’t wake; you moaned softly as you turned your head, nuzzling your face into Rafe’s neck. Rafe stayed with you like this, having found a new love in sleeping next to you. He never really enjoyed next to sleeping next to anyone, until you, and he began to designate certain nights of the week where you’d stay with him in his bed.

Watching you sleep made him think back to when he first brought you home. You still looked as innocent as ever, but there was something else Rafe liked about watching you sleep – he loved seeing you vulnerable. Obviously, you were in a constant state of being vulnerable to Rafe’s every whim and want, but this was different.

He tested just how deeply you were sleeping, slowly taking the doll from your grasp When you stirred only slightly, Rafe continued, first touching you above your pajamas. Large, ringed fingers felt over your chest. He massaged them, kneading them, and you reacted by pressing yourself closer to him.

Lips parted, and holding in heavy breathing, Rafe continued his exploration. He was growing harder in his briefs, imagining the look on your face when you fully opened your eyes. He licked one of his fingers and reached into your pajama bottoms and then into your panties. This was exactly why he never wanted you to wear panties to bed; they only got in his way.

He stroked fingers up and down, feeling between your folds. Feeling the moisture there, he wondered what exactly you’d been dreaming about, “Rafe,” He heard you whisper, although when he looked down at you, your eyes were still closed. Although the stimulation was waking you, Rafe knew you were too tired to fully realize what he was doing.

Rafe shushed you, still playing between your legs, “Is bed … time?” You mumbled as Rafe pulled his hands from your underwear, bringing his fingers to his lips.

“Yes, sweet girl,” Rafe whispered, “Keep relaxing, Daddy’s got you.”

Rafe pulled his body from yours, moving off the couch before he gently started to pull down your reindeer bottoms. Carefully, he removed them from around your ankles before slowly lowering himself down on top of you, “Cold … please,” You mumbled, “Daddyyy.”

“I’ve got you,” Rafe said in response to your whining; as he settled on top of you, you wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him in like your dolly or a pillow. Meanwhile, Rafe was trying as carefully as he could to free himself from his briefs. He didn’t have to touch himself at all, he was already aching for you.

He didn’t resist anymore, pushing your underwear to the side and then pushing inside of you, his sweet girl. You were tighter, somehow, causing Rafe’s eyes to roll in pleasure, “Rafe,” He heard you, knowing you in a daze. Currently, he felt quite dazed himself. He knew with his size that he’d wake you but he didn’t account for the fact that your body might try to resist, to push him out. It just motivated him to push deeper, “Rafe. Rafe.”

Your voice was sharper now, scared almost, “You’re okay,” He cooed, “You’re …so so good, sweet girl.”

You loosened your grasp on him, and Rafe took the opportunity to see your face. You were adorable in those red bows, he noticed them first, but then he saw your scrunched-up features, a cute wince on your face. It would feel good soon, he knew that, but he certainly enjoyed seeing you resist.

“What a fussy little girl, huh?” Rafe thrusted slowly, “Acting like you don’t like Daddy’s cock.”

With each thrust, you were trying to gain your composure, but Rafe was relentless.

One hand, beside your head, he pressed into the couch to hold himself up, and the other, he reached down to play with your clit, “Cum one time for me,” Rafe commanded, although it was the last thing you wanted. He would give it to you anyway, wanting to see it in your face when your own body betrayed you, “One time, and you can go back to sleep.”

Rafe’s thrust was slow but consistently deep. He switched back and forth from focusing on your pleasure and his. It was difficult for him, he could finish so easily with you, but he held out; Rafe knew when you were getting closer just by the look on your face. Your head tilted back as your orgasm spread through you, and Rafe was quickly behind you.

Rafe caught his breath, still inside of you, and moved his chest closer to yours, “You okay? You did good, Bambi.”

You nodded calmly, “Did I …Did I miss the whole movie?”

Rafe stared, bewildered for a moment, “Uh … no. We can just rewind it, baby,” He grinned, pecking your lips, “And I can just heat up the hot chocolate again.”

Your eyes widened, “Hot chocolate like in the movie?”

“Just like the movie, my love,” Rafe’s forehead pressed to yours.

He was grateful for the fact that he could give you the perfect first Christmas tomorrow. He was even more grateful for how perfect you were.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!!

#darkfic #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron #outer banks smut #barry outer banks #rafe cameron x black!reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe fanfiction

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artscythe · 1 year

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Trying to learn to compose better art pieces, so here are some of my very unrefined with nearly impossible to read annotated ideas...

I want to make ALL the Scarlet and Violet art. I want to make SO MUCH ART. I NEED TO FIND MY TABLET PEN AHHHHHH.

#chaos #pokemon scarlet and violet #i havent been this excited in a while #i still have to wait a month to play it lol #gonna get lots of art done before that #i never have ideas for christmas gifts so i pushed back getting scarlet and violet to christmas #am i regretting it? maybe #still have lots of uni work tho #so i think itll work out #in the meantime LOTS OF DRAWINGS

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ceilidho · 5 months

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prompt: IKEA soap/reader fic. PART 3. (read 1, 2) tags: dubcon

The Christmas party presents a whole new challenge in trying to ward Johnny off.

It’s hard because at first you almost gravitate towards him, weirdly enchanted by his ugly sweater with red reindeer on the sleeves. It’s only when he finally spots you—and you shudder when you notice the way his eyes scan across the crowd of other employees, seeking you out—and he practically lights up that you snap back to reality.

He blazes a path towards you like a heat seeking missile, dodging around your other coworkers. You stand there awkwardly as he cuts across the room, wondering if maybe you should’ve just texted your manager some excuse about feeling sick and stayed home. Too late now though.

Fortunately for you, the assistant manager intercepts before Johnny’s able to make it halfway across the room, stepping between the two of you like they don’t even realize they’ve interrupted anything. There’s a split second where you can see Johnny wrestle with the urge to push them aside, fury clear in his eyes. Maybe only to you. The assistant manager opens their mouth and talks like nothing’s amiss, like it isn’t clear that Johnny is only a handful of seconds away from causing serious harm.

Then it passes; recedes into the dark. Johnny’s blue eyes go pellucid again, unbothered by the real world. The smile that spreads across his face seems sincere; if you hadn’t been watching him that entire time, you might not have even thought that he’d harboured any violence inside of him.

You saw it though. You saw it.

It makes sense in the context of his background. You’d never given the ex-military thing much thought, but every so often you can almost feel the ghost of its presence in the back of your mind. When his reflexes kick in or the gleam in his eyes grows dark. He doesn’t ever talk about his past life in specifics, only grand overtures meant to distract anyone listening, but what he does reveal sometimes makes your stomach clench.

You swallow and turn back to the conversation with your other coworkers, steadfastly avoiding Johnny’s eyes peeking over the assistant manager’s head.

The breakroom is decked out in cheap Christmas decorations, a fiber-optic tree set up in the corner, iridescent bristles shifting colours with every blink. Someone passes you a vaguely alcoholic drink and you sip at it nervously, reaching the bottom of your first cup faster than you anticipated.

Your secret Santa gift is on a table just outside the breakroom in the hall, along with all the other gifts. Something about it draws your eyes several times throughout the evening. Maybe something you saw but didn’t register. It’s hard to keep focused on the conversation happening around you when your attention oscillates between Johnny and the gift table, but you respond hastily when someone prompts you to answer.

It comes to light when someone clinks a spoon against their glass and directs everyone to gather in the middle of the room. Two of the warehouse guys awkwardly try to bring the table into the room without knocking any of the gifts onto the floor. There are a few casualties, but when they manage to twist it enough to get it through the door, someone pulls up a chair to stand on and read off all of the names to hand out the gifts.

Several people coo when you’re revealed as the recipient of Johnny’s gift. There’s no reason for it to come as a shock, but your stomach clenches anyway.

He stands practically right up against you when you open it. You know the second you unwrap it that the delicate bottle of perfume in your hands must have been in the three figures. All you did was get someone a handmade mug from a local craft fair. He stares at you when you unwrap it, beaming when you give him a very controlled thank you because the alternative is screaming that this is way too expensive for you to keep.

“Ye should put it on,” he tells you, breathing just a little heavier. “Really want ta smell it on ye.”

You don’t know what possesses you to give it a spritz on your wrist, letting him guide your hand to dab it against the base of your throat. It’s intimate enough that his eyes follow the movement of your throat when you swallow, mouth going dry. They drag up to your lips when they part, a hesitant thanks hanging off your tongue.

“Jesus Christ, get a room already,” someone near you murmurs, but it doesn’t take long for their attention to slip off you as the next gift recipient is announced. Not Johnny though.

Your mouth snaps shut.

He hovers at your back for the rest of the gift handouts, so close that you can feel the heat radiating off him. You flinch at his bitten off groans whenever you so much as fidget, rubbing against him. Shaking him off seems like a hopeless task until someone asks if you have a lozenge, giving you an excuse to take them to your locker.

You can feel him stalking you like a shark around the breakroom when you chat with some of your other coworkers, the smile on your face becoming forced.

“Did’ya know Johnny actually—oh, sorry, burped—he actually paid me…to get your name?” your coworker giggles, absolutely sloshed. You’re tipsy too, but her words make you go a bit cold.

“Pardon?” you ask. The red cup crackles when your fingers tighten around it.

“He paid me. Fifty dollars. Jus’ to get your name for the…for the stupid Santa thing. The secret Santa.”

You can feel the way your mouth hangs open, just a bit. Her words echo in your head, the conversation long over. You let her prattle on, still stuck on the thought of Johnny paying someone off just for the opportunity to give you a gift. The longer you stand there and chat with your coworkers, the more difficult it gets to look normal.

“Isn’t that something?” she prompts, nudging you with an elbow. Even the slightest touch hits you like a battering ram.

“Yeah,” you parrot back, “it’s something.”

Perhaps you’re overdue for a conversation with Johnny about boundaries. More than overdue. The package has been signed, sealed, and delivered. It was overdue months ago, the day you started working at the same store as him. By now, you should’ve quit or transferred, hell you should’ve yelled at him that one time he stopped you in the garden section to apply his own personal Chapstick to your lips (you don’t think about how you’d bitten them raw from staring across the row of potted flowers as he stacked bag after bag of fertilizer onto a customer’s pallet before pushing it to their car, his sleeves rolled up and thick biceps on display the whole time).

Can anyone blame you for being confused? It’s obvious what he’s offering. He does nothing to hide it. It’s also obvious that it would be, unequivocally, a terrible idea to take him up on it.

Maybe you just need some fresh air. You make an excuse and peel off from the rest of the group, heading for the door. Someone lurches out of the shadows in the corner before you can make it out.

“Look, bonnie—mistletoe,” Johnny teases, not letting you so much as glance up before snatching you by the hips and reeling you into him.

The kiss he plants on you is filthy and wet. Open-mouthed too so he can slip you his tongue, licking over the roof of your mouth. Sucking your bottom lip when you can’t help the whimper that slips out and he breaks away for only a split second to whisper oh fuck under his breath. Your mind reels when he dives back in for another kiss. He’s as good of a kisser as you might have expected, messy but forceful, threading a hand into your hair to hold you in place. The way he roots you in place licks at something delicious inside of you, a secret, buried urge.

Johnny finally pulls away when he can no longer convincingly ignore the way you push on his shoulders and squirm in his arms. His lips are wet when he pulls back, a thin strand of saliva clinging between your lips. It breaks when he runs his tongue across the wetness.

Someone whistles and Johnny grins from ear to ear, bashful under the joy brimming out of him. You stumble away the second his hands loosen on your hips, wiping a hand across your mouth.

“Good for you, John!” someone shouts through cupped hands and several of your coworkers cackle.

This time you actually manage to make it out the door and down the hall to the employee restroom. You spend the next few minutes washing your hands until your fingertips go pruney under the warm water and you try to think of anything except the texture of Johnny’s lips.

You touch your lips no less than three times. Each time, your fingers come back trembling. It’s what you’d long expected from Johnny, from someone that looks like him, like the physical embodiment of ‘for a good time, call…’ written in lipstick on the back of a gas station bathroom door.

The last thing you want to do is give him an inch, throw him a bone—actually lead him on, as your coworker might say. Still, your finger trembles on your lip. You know he’d make it good. Even if he didn’t, looking like that, who could blame you? The thought makes you wince, conscience of objectifying him, but haven’t you been subject to worse by now? You’re due far more than some measly peck for how many times he’s slapped your ass, stolen your scrunchie (two so far), or said something nasty to you.

It’s not hard to track him down when he’s always hovering nearby, this time just off by the watercooler with your manager and a few other coworkers. The hand not holding a drink is buried deep in his pocket, the smile on his face strained by a mask of politeness; you can tell at a glance that he’s only playing at civility, that he’d rather be anywhere else but chatting with his boss and colleagues at the office party.

When he spots you approaching the group of them, his eyes widen, excitement bleeding back into them. It takes your breath away.

“Ah, there’s your other half, Johnny,” your manager says and you freeze.

“Aye, so she is. She’s a good little kisser, did’ye see?” Johnny gushes, pulling you in by the waistband of your pants. You’re a bit too tipsy to protest when he slips his hand around your waist.

It clicks into place. When he pulls you into his side, it feels like slotting into a space made just for you, unwelcome or not. You don’t even notice if your other coworkers laugh or not, fixated on his eyes. He can hardly pull them away from you. Every long shift waking up on the sofa in the breakroom with Johnny standing over you, eyes glinting like a predator’s in the woods, and every coworker’s joke about being Johnny’s girl feels like it’s been leading to this. You have to know what it’d be like.

“Um…Johnny?” you start, tugging on his shirt gently.

“Yeah, hen? What’s it?”

“Can we…um…do you wanna go somewhere more private?”

His breathing stops, body frozen against yours. “Ye serious, kitty? You’re not joking?”

You shake your head. “Just…just one time? Maybe?”

The first sign of movement from him is a full body shudder that nearly makes you step back. The frazzled look in his eyes borders on manic, flitting around the room looking for the nearest exit. Johnny tosses the group some hasty, poorly worded goodbye (you think he even flubs your manager’s name) and tears away from them, you still glued to his side. Someone giggles as you leave. You can’t pay them any mind though, not with how frantically Johnny pulls you out of the breakroom and down the hall, his long strides nearly making you trip over your feet.

“Johnny—slow down—”

“Hen, I’ll carry ye over my shoulder to the closet, I swear.”

He nearly barrels you over with how forcefully he pushes you into the closet, hot mouth latched onto the side of your throat. You hear the sound of the lock clicking behind him. The closet is swathed in darkness, only the barest hint of light bleeding through from underneath the doorway. It’s hardly enough for you to see anything in front of you, but that almost doesn’t matter with how Johnny curls around you, his body caging you in against the shelving behind you.

“Please, please, fuck, I cannae believe it, fuck—” Johnny groans into your neck, a pathetic desperate sound that you’ve never heard from him before. He even keens a bit. “Oh Jesus, baby, I’ve been—dinnae if ye knew or not, but I’ve been fuckin’ obsessed with ye for ages, Christ.”

You let out a laugh in disbelief, embarrassed by how breathless it sounds. “I—oh—I f-figured.”

His hands drag up and down your back, tugging at the fabric of your shirt and practically ripping it out of where it’s been tucked into your pants. If you had buttons, you think you’d burst straight off, zip off the walls and roll under one of the shelves. Johnny’s eagerness bleeds through—months of barely concealed lust unravelling right in front of you, his hands practically shaking when they grope along your sides and under your breasts. His fingers dig almost painfully into your flesh until you whimper and he murmurs a broken apology into your neck.

“Wha’d’ye want, baby? I can—fuck, anything ye want, I promise—” Johnny begs, the sound almost pitiful. It makes your pussy ache.

“Your—your mouth—”

The speed with which he drops to his knees almost makes you flinch. His kneecaps are only saved by the carpeted floor, present nowhere else in the employee section apart from the supply closets. His hands go to the zipper and button on your jeans, yanking viciously, almost snarling when they don’t immediately come undone. When you try to help him, he bares his teeth, more animalistic than you’ve ever seen him before.

“Do these fuckin’ pants even come off?” Johnny growls, giving another yank. You hear something rip and wince.

He manages to wrench your pants down until they pool around your ankles, only enough concentration left in him to pull one leg out and drape it over his shoulder.

“Johnny—my underwear—holy shit—” you gasp when he mashes his face into the crotch of your panties, laving his tongue over the fabric. You can feel the heat of it through the gusset of your underwear, each desperate lick trying unsuccessfully to pull them to the side.

“Fuck, s’ry, baby, I’ll take ‘em off,” he apologizes, voice muffled where his mouth is still pressed to your pussy. Reluctant to move even an inch away from you.

It takes him a couple more seconds before he’s able to move away just long enough to pull your underwear down as well, struggling with getting it over the leg still draped over his shoulder and nearly losing his patience twice over.

He takes to eating you out like something he’s done for years—naturally. Crudely. Eyes fluttering shut when he drags his tongue from your slit to your clit, unabashedly enjoying himself. His moans drag through you, making you nearly shake right out of your skin. His chin is already wet when you glance down. He spreads your inner lips with two fingers to open you fully to his gaze, lapping at your clit until he can hardly pull his mouth away from your cunt.

Johnny drags one of your hands from his hair to cradle the side of his face, turning into your palm to take a deep inhale. His eyelashes flutter against his cheeks, eyes several degrees hotter when they meet yours through the curtain of his lashes.

“Fuckin’ smell like mine too,” he growls. You jolt at his words. He draws a finger into his mouth and gives it a suck, making you trill.

“D-don’t get any ideas,” you gasp, other hand threading through his hair now, turnabout fair play. “S’just a—ah, ah—a one-time t-thing.”

“Aye, one time, one time,” he repeats. “Gonna make it so good f’r ye, baby.”

The two fingers spreading you open push against your entrance insistently. The initial stretch makes you tug at his hair, flushing when all that does is make him moan, mouth hung open sluttily. He looks even more strung out than you, eyes dark and heady. He’s also never looked more attractive.

Shelves jab into the small of your back, the ache growing the longer he keeps you like that with one leg slung over his shoulder, your knees almost buckling. Impossible to concentrate on the voice in your head screaming that this is a bad idea, not when he runs his tongue over your clit and sucks. Not when you’re forced to clamp a palm over your mouth to drown out your sounds.

The press of a third finger into you makes you flinch and yank at his hair, harder this time. Hard enough for Johnny to back off, an apology muttered into your wetness. The two splitting you are more than enough, you think, a bit wildly. He shouldn’t be prepping you for anything more. There’s a furrow to his brows though, a bit of frustration wedged in there. Like putting up with your complaints annoys him just a bit.

“John—c’mon, please, not so loud,” you beg.

He pumps his fingers into you, eyes trained on the spot where they disappear. The look in his eyes borders on reverent. “Always mouthin’ off, huh? Even when I’m getting ye off? On my knees ‘n everything?”

“There are p-people outside,” you hiss, clamping your hand back down over your mouth when he curls his fingers and presses up into you.

“Yeah?” The question sounds rhetorically, almost a challenge. The smile on his lips goes wicked sharp. “God, we wouldnae want ‘em ta hear, huh? What ye pulled me away from the party for?”

You don’t know why that’s what sets you off, but it does, eyes watering with the force of your orgasm. Back arched. Your head aches from where you knocked it back into the shelf behind you. Johnny groans when you clench around his fingers.

It’s a few seconds before you feel like you can speak again. The first thing you can utter is a hiss when Johnny laps at your slit again, far too sensitive for him to still be touching you.

“You can, ah…you can let me go now,” you pant. Coming back to your body takes an age, legs still trembling, held up by Johnny’s hands alone.

His fingers grip harder into your flesh. You stare down at him.

“Oh, pretty baby,” Johnny coos, eyes black with desire, “we’re jus’ gettin’ started.”

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #ikea soap #soap x reader #soap/reader #john soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap cod #soap mactavish #soap x you

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eiightysixbaby · 5 months

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under the mistletoe

modern!eddie munson x fem!reader (college au)

2.6k

summary: a holiday party, a sweet gift exchange, and an even sweeter kiss

cw: mentions of alcohol, v brief mentions of weed smoking, fluff

“If Steve and Chrissy kiss one more time under that mistletoe, I’m gonna barf,” Eddie mumbles around his glass of eggnog.

“Oh, come on, I think it’s sweet,” Robin says, elbowing him in the side. “Stop being such a downer.”

You look in the direction of the couple under scrutiny, watching as Chrissy perches herself on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on Steve’s waiting mouth. It is sweet, sickeningly so, if you’re honest. Maybe that’s where Eddie’s coming from…

“I’m not being a downer, I just don’t think we should all have to be subjected to them sucking face every five minutes,” Eddie sneers at her, huffing when she rolls her eyes at him.

“You’re just jealous you’re not getting any, Munson,” Robin sing-songs, walking away to refill her drink.

This was your first time experiencing one of Steve’s Christmas parties. Last year, you spent the holiday miserably sick in your and Robin’s shared apartment. You’d met the group during your first year of college, making fast friends and fitting right in with them. Robin and Eddie knew Steve from their shared hometown growing up, and they’d told you countless stories of all of the parties he used to throw in high school.

You’re just thankful that now, the parties are a little more scaled-back. A lot less drinking-till-you-puke and a lot more quality time with people you actually care about.

“So, you having fun at your first official Harrington holiday party?” Eddie asks you, looking casually over at you with his deep brown eyes.

“Yeah,” you smile. “It’s fun. I needed this after all the stress from finals. And it beats having the flu like last year,” you grimace, heart skipping a beat when Eddie laughs.

“Okay, you got me. Watching Steve and Chrissy make out might be bad, but it’s not as bad as the flu.”

You giggle, feeling your cheeks heat when he doesn’t take his eyes off of you. You’d be a filthy liar if you said you didn’t have a thing for Eddie. The moment you met him he’d captured your full attention, with his boisterous personality and his pretty eyes. His wild curly hair and his stellar smile. Everything about him had you giddy like a teenager, but you hadn’t voiced this to anyone — too scared that your feelings would disrupt, well, everything.

Plus, Eddie definitely didn’t like you like that. You’ve heard some of his hookup stories, he wouldn’t want to settle down and start a relationship with you. You’re just a friend to him, and that’s fine.

But with the way he’s looking at you right now, you could almost be convinced otherwise…

The little moment is gone before it really even started, Nancy coming over to the two of you and hurrying you into the living room to do the gift exchange. You’d decided to do a Secret Santa, drawing names and keeping your chosen person a secret until it was time for the unwrapping.

Much to your excitement, you’d pulled Eddie’s name. You’d debated over what to get him for as long as you could get away with before you finally came up with the perfect idea. Now that it’s almost time for him to open it, you find yourself getting nervous to see his reaction.

Everyone sits in a circle in the living room, taking up all of the furniture as well as the floor. You take one end of the sofa, and Eddie claims the chair closest to you. You watch as Nancy places all of the wrapped boxes and sparkly gift bags in the center of the group, trying not to think too hard about the fact that Eddie chose to sit by you.

“So, whose name did you get?” he leans over and whispers to you, those big doe eyes full of mischief.

“Well what fun would it be to spoil it now?” you counter, smiling at him as he rolls his eyes and sighs exaggeratedly.

Your attention is brought back to the group as Steve offers to go first, picking up his gift and handing it over to Jonathan. Jonathan shyly accepts it, smiling as he tears the tissue paper out of the bag to reveal its contents. He pulls out a few cassette tapes of his favorite artists, as well as a new strap for his camera.

“Dude, these are awesome!” he says, and you watch as Steve smiles proudly. “Thank you so much,” the shaggy-headed boy continues, leaning over to accept Steve’s fist bump.

“No problem, man. I know you were complaining about your current camera strap getting all worn. The cassettes were an obvious choice,” Steve jokes.

The room is full of smiles and laughs as the gift-giving continues. Jonathan gives his gift to Chrissy, Chrissy had drawn your name and gives hers to you — a beautiful charm bracelet and a cozy blanket you’d seen at the mall not long ago and wanted terribly.

That means you’re up next. Your hands feel clammy and nervous butterflies flutter in your stomach as you grab your gifts from the floor. Angling yourself in Eddie’s direction, you hand him the presents with a timid smile.

“For me!?” he asks, holding a hand up to his heart. “How’d I get so lucky?”

You feel your face flush, unable to maintain eye contact as your jitters get the best of you. You just hope he likes it. You hope it’s not too much.

Eddie’s careful hands unwrap the first present of the two, tossing the wrapping paper to the floor. The small box is exposed, and you feel like you might pass out as he takes the lid off. His jaw drops open, his head snapping up to look at you and then look back down at the contents of the container once more.

“What is it!?” Nancy asks, craning her neck from her seat to try and catch a glimpse.

“Custom guitar picks. For Corroded Coffin,” Eddie says, in awe as he just stares at them.

The picks were a red and black marbled pattern, with CC printed onto them on one side, and an image of a bat flying on the opposite side. You know how important his band is to him, how often he stays up till the asscrack of dawn practicing guitar, and so it felt like the perfect thing to get.

You wait with baited-breath as he continues looking them over, picking them up and marveling at them as if they aren’t just pieces of plastic at the end of the day.

“These are…. I don’t even know what to say. These are so fucking sweet,” he says, meeting your eyes.

“Don’t forget to open the second one,” you say, trying to bite back a smile.

He just smiles, shaking his head as he goes to pick up the second present. Reaching carefully inside of the big, sparkly red bag, he pulls out a vinyl record. Not just any record, though. It’s a copy of Master of Puppets, signed by every member of Metallica. Eddie’s favorite band. You’d scoured the internet for a legitimate and somewhat-affordable copy, completely scoring on this one. A good chunk of the money you’d made from your campus job went towards it, but it was more than worth it.

“No fucking way!” he shouts when he clocks the signatures scrawled out in marker. He flips the record around to show the room, everyone erupting in a chorus of “holy shit!” and “oh my god”.

He’s out of his seat in an instant, encouraging you to stand with him. He squeezes you in an impossibly tight hug, his arms so secure around you.

“I can’t fucking believe you,” he says, right against your ear. He pulls back a little, looking you right in the eyes. “Thank you so fucking much. What the hell,” he laughs, his teeth fully on display and the dimples coming out in his cheeks.

“Damn. She’s the best gift giver of us all. I think we might as well just call off Secret Santa for next year, no one’s topping that,” Steve says, getting a nod from Robin.

Eddie still hasn’t fully let you go, and it’s only when you become excruciatingly aware of all of the eyes on you that you pull away from his touch.

“Okay. So, Eddie, you’re next?” you say shakily, trying to gain your composure back. The boy stares at you just a second too long for you not to overthink it, before he’s nodding along.

“Yeah, alright,” he says, reaching for his gift.

The remainder of the gifts are exchanged rather quickly, but you really couldn’t tell anyone what they were if you’d had a gun to your head. All you could think about was the way Eddie hugged you. The look in his eyes when he opened both gifts. His eyes watching you intently from that moment on.

You want to buy him gifts like that all of the time, want to make him smile like that all of the time.

Chrissy and Steve cozy up on the loveseat, wrapped in each other as Christmas music plays softly. Jonathan and Argyle sit by the window, smoking from the new bowl the latter had been gifted by Robin. (That was the only gift you’d actually paid attention to as it was given, because Argyle literally cried). Eddie was relaxing in his chair, sipping another glass of spiked nog.

Robin and Nancy had pulled you into the kitchen as soon as they could, talking in whispers.

“Okay, so what was that? You got Eddie, like, the best gift ever.” Robin says, her eyes bulging at the end of the sentence.

“Yeah, I mean, that record had to have cost a fortune. And the custom picks!?” Nancy prods.

“Can I not just get my friend a nice gift?” you counter, your hand rubbing the back of your neck.

“Something’s up. I always know when something’s up,” Nancy says, her small mouth pursing in thought.

She’s right. She always knows. You don’t stand a chance lying to them — especially not both of them, together.

“Okay, fine! So maybe I have a little thing for Eddie…” you say. “But he definitely doesn’t like me like that! I just… wanted to get him something nice. It made me feel good,” you add, quick to defend yourself.

“I knew it!” Robin says, a little too loud, Nancy and you hurrying to shush her. “I knew it,” she says again, whispering this time.

“Just pleeaaase don’t tell him, okay? I don’t need this getting out—”

“Okay, babe, have you ever considered that he might like you too?” Robin interrupts, and Nancy nods.

“I— I don’t know! He doesn’t seem like the type to want a relationship, and… I don’t know!” you stumble, realizing you aren’t sure if you have a valid reason to confidently claim that he doesn’t like you.

The truth is, you just don’t know. And the unknown is terrifying.

“Why don’t you ask him out?” Nancy asks. “You know Eddie’s a sweetheart. I’m sure he’d love to go on a date with you,” she says, and you chew on your lip in indecision.

“I don’t know, you guys…” you mumble, nervously playing with your hair.

“Just, think about it?” Robin asks, just as the curly-headed man in question strolls leisurely into the kitchen.

“What are we thinking about?” he noses his way into the conversation, grabbing a few cookies off of a tray.

“Uh, nothing important,” you lie, giving him the most convincingly casual smile you can muster.

He bites into his cookie, leaning casually against the table. His dark eyes don’t leave you. Bringing an icing-covered finger to his mouth, he sucks the sugary substance off, making you flustered for the millionth time tonight.

Think about it, Robin said. You’re definitely thinking about it.

“Hey, um, could I talk to you alone, for a sec?” he asks you, bringing you back to earth.

“Oh! Y-yeah, sure,” you say, following him out of the kitchen. You chance a quick glance back at the girls, both of whom give you a thumbs up and an encouraging nod.

Eddie rounds the corner from the kitchen, standing in the entryway to the apartment. You’re just out of earshot of anyone else, and you’re nervous for what he’s about to say. You lean against the wall, his taller frame almost caging you in.

“Listen. I just want you to know how much I appreciate the gifts you got me. You didn’t have to do that,” he says sincerely. “No one’s ever gotten me a gift that nice before, besides for when Wayne got me my guitar,” he says, laughing lightly. “I just… thank you. I can’t thank you enough, actually.”

“I wanted to do it. You don’t even need to thank me. I’m just glad you like them, and you don’t think it’s too much,” you admit, glancing down at your feet.

“They’re perfect,” he says earnestly, getting you to look back up at him. “You’re… perfect," he breathes, saying it like it's a sigh of relief. Like it’s long overdue.

His eyes are so soft and sincere, his lips plump and pink as his tongue pokes out to wet them. His cheeks are tinged with the slightest bit of red, either from nerves or from the alcohol. You find yourself lost in him, your lips parting slightly as you both stand in silence.

Something above his head catches your attention, after a moment, and you look further up. You laugh in spite of yourself, making him look up, too.

Right above both of you, hanging from the arch in the ceiling, is mistletoe. The same mistletoe Eddie had been complaining about earlier. He starts laughing too, and then the both of you are stood there giggling like schoolchildren at the situation you find yourselves in.

When he’s regained composure, and your belly-laughs have subsided to a shy smile, you meet his eyes again. He steps ever-so-slightly closer to you, regarding you carefully down the bridge of his nose. There’s a playful look on his face, and one of his hands reaches out to gently rest on your waist.

“Since we’re here… should we..?” he starts, inching even closer.

“Yeah, we should,” you murmur, pushing up on your toes to meet him as he starts leaning down.

Your eyes flutter shut, your noses brushing together before your lips barely graze his. His warm breath fans your face, and then his lips are pressed fully on yours. You’re drinking him in, letting your mouths move softly together as you press your body against his. He smells like cinnamon and spice, tastes like the liquor from his drink, and you can’t get enough.

He’s pulling away too soon, reaching his hands up to cup your face. You never want him to let go, never want to go back to the reality you were living in before you’d kissed him, and the look on his face tells you he might be feeling the same.

“Wow,” Steve says from his spot on the couch, reminding both you and Eddie that you aren’t the only ones here.

“Awww you guys are so cute!” Chrissy coos, making you bite your lip in slight embarrassment.

Nancy and Robin high-five nonchalantly, before looking at you with huge smiles. Eddie’s arm wraps around you, pulling you into his side. You feel like a million bucks with him so close to you.

“You guys mind if we get out of here?” he says to the room. “I think we have a lot to catch up on,” he adds, glancing down at you with a wink.

You’d never been so happy to leave a party in your life. And maybe you didn’t even make it out of the parking lot of Steve’s complex before Eddie’s hands were all over you, but that’s your business.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction

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nonranghaes · 29 days

Text

wonwoo lights up in delight as he sees you walk into the kitchen, and immediately is calling out to you when you start to walk away. when you turn, he's holding up his phone, smiling to himself.

"cute." he chuckles to himself. "you look nice."

you roll your eyes. so maybe you look presentable from the waist-up, having changed into a nice shirt so that you could record yourself doing a presentation for your class. this is the exact shit you'd do if you worked from home, too: nice shirt, but still wearing your cozy pajama pants where no one can see it on camera.

"can you turn around?" his eyes crinkle a little when he giggles to himself.

so you throw your arms out, giving him a slow turn so he can take in the entire look. he has a matching pair of pajama pants because they were part of your christmas gift to him, covered entirely in little cats. maybe he'll get them out of the laundry to surprise you when you come back out.

you cross the room after he lowers his phone, leaning in to steal a quick kiss from him. "do you have our daughter?"

wonwoo glances over to where the cat is curled up in her little pet bed for once, snoozing away. "i'll distract her if she starts looking for you," he promises. before you can move too far away from him, he reaches forward to draw you back in for another kiss, longer this time. "i mean it, though. you look nice. you've got this."

he's sweet, and he knows you well enough to know any presentation is going to give you anxiety. "thank you," you say, and draw away from him. with a heavy sigh, you take a few steps back. "time to get this over with."

he's definitely changing into the cat pajama pants when you shut that door.

#nonranghaes.thoughts #seventeen x reader #nonranghaes.svt #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen x you #svt imagine #svt x you #wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo x y/n #wonwoo x y/n #jeon wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fluff #jeon wonwoo fluff #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #yes im abt to record a presentation while in a sweater and pajama pants. what of it!!!

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just-some-trans-nobody · 5 months

Note

(Nsfw)

Orc boyfriend who's really into breeding kink, but his human mate don't want/can't have children, so he just keep filling up his mate anyway

December Christmas Monster stories

December 4.) Orc Breeding

Orc boyfriend x gender neutral reader

Thank you for this request! Hope you and everyone else enjoys. This gave me way to much trouble, for some reason everytime I went to save it, it just wouldn't save.

Warning: NSFW, breeding, cream pie, unprotected sex, no prep before sex, mention of pregnancy, small amount of alcohol

Minors don't interact!

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Wanting to do something romantic for your boyfriend on christmas you kicked him out for a few hours so you can set everything up. He left with friends to go get drinks, promising you he would be back in two hours giving you plenty of time to set everything up.

Spreading flower petals down on the floor from the front door you made a trail of them to the bedroom you shared with your large hunk of an orc you loved oh so dearly. Next you set up candles here and there letting their sweet aroma fill the air. Turning on the stereo you put on a long playlist of songs to get nasty too, you knew to put on an extra long one, Grogmar loved to take his sweet time having his way with you and you loved that. The last step was to put on sexy Christmas lingerie. It was lacey with fuzzy white trim, leaving nothing to the imagination.

Picking your phone up you shot him a text to check and see when he would be back. Playing it safe you sent another text telling him to come alone for his surprise, you didn’t want to risk his buddies seeing you like this. You didn’t get a text right away so you set your phone down on the nightstand walking away just as you got a text back from him saying he had just parked. Going to the kitchen you pulled out two glasses and poured some champagne into them.

Hearing the door unlocking you picked the two glasses and stepped out of the kitchen right in time for Grogmar to open the door. His eyes looked to you and widened as he went stiff taking in the sight of you dressed like that. Grinning you struck a pose popping your hip out lightly. “Merry christmas~” You purred while holding up one of the glasses for him. Stepping inside he closed the door not breaking his stride as he approached you. With one hand he took the glass from you, his other hand going to your ass. His hand covered all of your cheek with it’s large size. “Now this is a merry christmas. Might be my favorite gift so far.” He chuckled, leaning in catching your lips with his in a heated kiss. Moaning against his lips you pressed your body against him feeling that he was already growing hard. Pulling away he trailed kisses down to your neck, his tusks rubbing against you as he kissed you like a desperate man. “Let’s take this to the bedroom.” You moaned as he continued to attack your neck in kisses.

“Can’t wait that long.” He mumbled against your neck before he hosted you up in one arm. Carrying you to the table he set you down on the edge before setting his glass down next to you. Watching him step back you brought your own glass up to your lips taking a long sip as he fumbled with his pants. “So eager to use your gift hmm~?” You teased watching as he finally got it off. “Always eager when it’s with you.” Grogmar said as he stepped in between your legs going back to kissing you neck drawing a moan from your lips. His hands gripped your thighs rubbing them at a rough pace as he gave them a squeeze. Moaning he grinded against you wanting any sort of friction. “Grog please.” You whispered, leaning your head back. “Please fuck me, fill me up with your cum.” You knew how exactly to push his buttons, you knew just how much that would rile him up and it did. Groaning against your next he pulled your legs open wider as he pushed his wide tip into you earning a moan from you. Grabbing onto his shoulders you had to hold onto him for support as he pushed more of his cock into you. No matter how many times he had taken you he was always just so damn big, he had to be careful at the start.

Panting you pressed your head against his chest, a soft whine leaving you as he stretched you open wide. “Doing so good for me baby, gonna fill you up so much. Yer gonna look pregnant once I’m done with you.” Grogmar knew that was impossible but the thought always got him hot and bothered. It rubbed a more feral part of his brain so nicely thinking about breeding you. Hearing your loud moan brought him back to reality, he was getting easily lost in the pleasure already. “You take me so well.” He moaned, thrusting into you harder causing you to cry out. “Oh fuck! Grog! Yes fuck just like that.” You screamed out not caring how loud you were getting, you couldn’t care less at that moment. His cock just felt too good, you didn’t think you could hold in any sounds even if you tried to. The wet sounds of his sloppy thrusts were barely covered up by the music playing in the background. “You love it when I pound you like this don’t you? You love when my cock stretches you so well.” Grog moaned, lifting your legs up onto his shoulders. Leaning down he pressed his chest to yours. His cock reaching into you deeper with his new position. Trying to answer him your words came out as moaning gibberish unable to talk as he fucked you stupid. “Gods look at you. The devinines would be jealous of your beauty.” He praised kissing your jaw. “Fuck! Grog!” Was all you were able to say as you let out a choked moan. “F-fill me up… Need it… please please!” You whined as you started to claw at his back. Grogmar groaned feeling your nails on his back, it was a good kind of pain he was more than happy to feel. He would gladly show them off if you managed to leave a scar from it, though it was unlikely to happen. You could feel his cock twitch inside of you as he grew closer to his orgasim, you were close too. “How could I say no when you're asking so nicely?” He asked as he started to thrust faster slamming his hips into in a unrelenting pace. Throwing your head back against the table you let out a scream of pleasure as you tightened around him cumming. Your tightness drove him to the edge causing him to cum inside of you. “Yes of fuck Grog fill me up with your cum!” You moaned encouraging him. Bending over you he grunted and groaned as he kept thrusting, riding out his orgasmism making sure he got every drop of his seed into you. Panting his hips slowed to a stop as he pressed his head against your shoulder. “Haa~ felt so good.” He mumbled gently rubbing your thighs. “You're always so good for me.” Grogmar praised placing gentle kisses all over your shoulder and neck. “Mm you do too Groggy. Now let's get cleaned up and unwrap the other gifts.” You said trying to sit up a little. “Did you forget what I said?” Grogmar whispered tusks grazing against your neck as he spoke. Confused and a little dazed, you looked down at him. Opening your mouth you began to ask what he meant when you let out a sudden moan feeling a harsh thrust. “You're going to look pregnant once I’m done and you don’t look pregnant yet so I ain’t done yet.” He explained, his grip on your thighs tightening again as he continued to thrust into you. Moaning you laid back down on the table more than happy to keep going. This definitely was your best Christmas yet.

#monster #monster fucker #monster boyfriend #monster stories #december christmas monster stories #orc smut #orc man #orc x nonbinary reader #orc x male reader #orc x female reader #orc character #orc x reader #orc x human #orc x you #monster x male #monster x female #monster x human #monster x male reader #monster x fem!reader

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yawnderu · 5 months

Text

Lorelei — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Part V

1 2 3 4

Synopsis: Aware of the way his lifestyle doesn't align with your dream life and unwilling to quit his life as a soldier, Simon breaks things off with you. It isn't until a year later that he sees you again, a tiny carbon copy of him held in your arms.

This chapter can be read as a one-shot without having to read the whole story! :)

"Are you staying for Christmas?" You ask casually, decorating the cookies you baked with Simon's help. Your daughter is sleeping peacefully in her crib, a small Santa Claus onesie on her, preparing her for the celebration even when there's still a few hours left.

"You want me to?" He asks with a raised eyebrow, brown eyes fully focused on decorating the head of one of the cookie figures, steady hand drawing a skull pattern with ease.

"It's her first Christmas, I think she'd like having her father around." I want you around as well. He's lucky you're focused on decorating your cookies, missing the way his face lights up with a proud smile. It's a lot of progress.

''Right. I got you both some presents in the car.'' He washes his hands on the sink, giving his daughter one last look before leaving the house, trying to gather as many of the gifts he bought as possible. ''Some presents'' was clearly an understatement— he has been building a pile of gifts for months, his car full of boxes and bags for both you and your little girl.

''Jesus Christ.'' You wash your hands and go help him as you see him struggling to carry the pile, taking some from him and putting them under the Christmas tree.

''There's more in the car.'' He seems almost sheepish as he confesses, giving him a small pat on the arm as you go outside to help him. You almost laugh as you look inside, the entire backseat full of presents. It's almost ridiculous, yet so charming how much he wants to make both of you happy, knowing how much it the holidays mean to you, especially now that you have a daughter.

''Isn't this... a bit overkill?'' You joke, earning you a playful pat on the ass now that your arms are busy. You miss the kick thrown his way, jogging after him with a smile when he playfully gets on the other side of the couch to avoid you getting revenge.

''I still got one more present coming, but that's for later.'' He walks back to the kitchen once he made sure you weren't going to kill him for patting your ass.

''I swear to God, Simon, if it's another d—'' He interrupts you by smearing frosting on your cheek, shooting you a cheeky smile that gets erased the moment you do it back— smearing way more than you should have all over his cheek.

''Bastard.''

Your baby was up by the time it was midnight, excited to see her mum and dad opening up presents and even joining in, tiny hands clearly struggling with the wrapping paper, yet somehow managing without help.

''Strong girl, like her mum.'' You smile softly at his words, looking at the way your daughter stares curiously at one of her last presents; a cactus activated by sound.

''Say 'hello'.'' Simon says, getting closer to the toy until it activates, dancing around and lighting up. Astrid looks confused as she looks at it, brown eyes looking up at you before looking back at the toy.

''Hello.'' He repeats, a warm smile on his lips when the toy starts dancing again, much to your daughter's confusion. She babbles at it, tiny hands reaching out to touch it once it starts moving and playing back her sounds, giggles escaping her lips as the toy imitates her laugh.

Simon's phone vibrates in his pocket, getting up from the couch before looking down at his phone with twinkling eyes.

''My mate's here, I'll be right back.'' He doesn't wait for you to reply, already out of the house before you can even say anything. Your focus is back to your daughter, happy that she enjoys playing with the toy rather than being scared of it like you've seen in videos online. Brave girl she is, not a single lick of fear in her.

Simon comes back a minute later, holding a big German Shepherd that can definitely walk on its own. You give him a questioning look as he sets it on the floor, holding his collar just in case.

''Absolutely not.'' You try to protest, yet your gaze softens when you see Astrid crawl to the dog.

''Wa-wa!'' She points out, tiny hands reaching up to pet the dog the same way you've taught her, gentle. The dog doesn't react much besides laying down on the floor for your daughter to pet it, making it much easier for her.

''His name's Riley, he's a retired K-9. Look, I'll pay for his food and even for someone to come take care of him when I'm not here, I just... want you to be safe.'' There's hints of pleading on his tone, eyebrows slightly furrowed as he looks at you.

''... I'll take care of him.'' You say with a small sigh, knowing Simon wants nothing else than for both of his girls to be safe, especially when he's deployed.

''We gave him extra training to deal with kids and emergencies. Big geezer's patient and good.'' He keeps trying to sell it as if you didn't say yes already, a small giggle escaping your lips before giving him a reassuring smile.

''We'll keep him, don't worry.'' You crouch down to pet the dog, who is clearly enjoying the attention from your daughter, allowing her to rest on his side while petting his head.

There's a smile on his face as he looks down at his family, hands fumbling with the small box in his pocket.

[PREVIOUS]

taglist: @skulfan1 @survivalshxt @ghostslittlegf @yaebaal @thecubanator2 @juliediets @shescabob @kenz-ee @lothiriel9 @dragonstoneshortcake @lunamoonbby @alfie2401 @perfectus-in-morte @mxtokko @cloufie @killergoddess97 @imaracoon @thepurpleaccount @silas-222 @actuallyhiswife @havoc973 @catkatchuck @preeyansha

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wcters · 1 month

Text

𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗧 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗔 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗪𝗛𝗢 𝗡𝗔𝗣𝗦 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: matt with a girlfriend who is obsessed with naps/naps all the time

warnings/notes: established relationships, will probably be shorter than the last one 🤍 sorry

- you need coffee all the time

- or just any caffeine

- always nursing a red bull or iced coffee

- probably stopped working to keep you awake after awhile but you gaslight yourself into thinking it does

- you have woken up in matt’s bed with chris beside matt who’s beside you

- like hello? when did you show up and it’s too squished

- slipper socks . . . you have cold feet a lot

- you force matt to take his shoes off if he’s going on the bed. no matte how clean they are

- will not let him leave your naps

- have your own pillow and pillowcase at his house

- always have bags under your eyes

- sometimes you can’t sleep without matt

- like you have to be touching him somehow: legs tangled up, hand holding, something

- have a playlist of just phoebe bridgers songs to fall asleep to (same)

- love stealing and sleeping in his boxers and his shirts

- you’re one of those girls who will just wear shorts and a shirt but refuse to put anything else on if you get cold

- you’ll either cuddle up to matt or get more blankets

- MELATONIN GUMMIES

- you take em’ if you are just not falling asleep cause that happens

- have definitely fallen asleep in matt’s lap or something while he’s playing video games and he doesn’t have the heart to wake you up or tell you you’re in the way

- like that feeling when you have to get up when you have a cat in your lap

- sleep in a starfish position unless matt’s there

- nick, chris, and matt have so many 0.5’s of you sleeping

- #mouthbreather

- you’ve almost fallen asleep while you’re out for dinner

- have a shirt/sweater that says ‘i’m tired but i’m being brave about it’

- fall asleep to true crime

- talk about the most confusing and existential stuff and then fall asleep like nothing

- people complain you sleep too much? your just a girl 🎀

- when someone asks you to hang and and you say your busy your probably just taking a nap

- you and matt are always down for a nap

- you’re a sleepy couple

- you will set like 10 alarms to wake you up because you’ll either snooze them or sleep through them

- you always have cold water and chapstick near you when you’re napping/sleeping

- soooo delirious when you first wake up

- you prefer the room or wherever you’re having a nap to be cold

- not like freezing but under the temperature you’d usually have the house/apartment

- sleep focus? 🔛 no one is getting to you unless it’s an emergency

- you’ll text everyone who might try to reach you

- ‘i am having a nap, will not answer for anything cause i’ll be asleep 😌😌’

- matt has gifted toy essential oils or bath salts to help you sleep

- christmas morning with you SUCKS and you admit that. you hate waking up early

- matt will have to drag you out of the room

- all pissed at him and everyone else until you get your gifts or go back to sleep

- fall asleep during movie nights

- you can sleep anywhere and will

- the triplets will get home from somewhere and you’re just on the couch or sitting at their dining room table asleep

- if you don’t want up, matt will just pick you up and carry you to your room

- you’ve dropped your phone on your face before cause you fell asleep watching it

- you won’t admit it out loud . . . but you love asmr

- have a playlist of your favourites

- passenger princess, sleeper edition!

- has a headrest pillow you bought

- blanket ready to go and chair laid back if no one’s behind it

- matt draws shapes on your back

- will nap with best friends

- talk and talk and let everyone know how much you love naps

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libraryofloveletters · 5 months

Text

Stuff It

Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader

Warnings: cheesy boyfriend charles, horrible artistic skills, pascale knows you two are just idiots in love, first christmases together.

Word Count: 661

Author's Note: charles seems like the type of guy to go to his mom when he's stuck on what to give as a gift so here we are lmao

Charles goes a bit over board seeing that it’s your first Christmas with him, as his girlfriend that is. He revives an old tradition you two had as children.

The thing about lifelong friendships, they often leave a little to no room for a surprise.

So on you and Charles, your lifelong best friend, finally being to date, there isn't much he could do to surprise you.

It's your first Christmas together as a couple officially, and Charles just wants to do something to make it special for you. He's tried to do everything he could think of, from googling to Pinterest to asking his brothers, who let's be real, weren't much help. He finally turned to the one person he knows would have an answer for him.

"Maman, je ne sais pas quoi faire." (Mom, I don't know what to do.) Charles's chin rests on the palm of his hand, watching as his mom cuts the fruit at the kitchen counter

Pascale hums, as if in thought for a moment before she speaks. "Why don't you stuff a stocking for her?"

"I'm not 6 years old, maman." He huffs, his brows furrowed and she smiles - he looked exactly like he did when he was 6 years old right now.

"I know that Charles, but when you guys were little you used to exchange stockings, remember? You draw her a picture and we put sweets and little toys in for her."

Charles tries to think, it sounded familiar and he nods. "Yeah, okay."

"Are you staying for lunch ?" The woman asks and he shakes his head, kissing her cheek after he gets up. "I'll be back tomorrow, love you!" He shouts to her as he heads out the door.

He has the shops with one thing in mind, find you a stocking that suited you best. He searches and searches and with no luck does he find one with a picture that suits you. Finally in a last ditch effort, he ends up in some random shop that sold random odds and ends for Christmas.

There's a blue stocking with snowflakes, and printed along the side of it with your initials on the top; Charles thinks what is his luck to find this.

He pays the man at the counter and heads home with the stocking shoved into the bag. He had picked up a few things he thought you'd like while he was at the other store.

The stocking sits on the coffee table, filled with all your favourite beauty products, sweets, and a few other odds and ends that Charles thinks that you might need or like.

He was working on the last thing that he wanted to put in, a drawing of you and him in front of his race car, which was, in his words, rather poorly drawn.

He folds the paper carefully, slipping it into the side of the stocking before picking it up to put it away before you come home.

It was as if he summoned you, the front door opened and in you came with a bag in hand. "Hi love," you smiled.

Charles's hands are behind his back and he's a bit shifty. You look at your boyfriend with raised eyebrows. "You okay?"

"I have something for you," he says, pulling the stocking out from behind his back.

You can't help but laugh, a big smile on your face as you reach into the bag that you brought in with you. You pull out a red stocking with Christmas trees on it and show Charles.

"Did you talk to my mom?" He asks, as you two switch stockings. You nod, smiling, "I guess you did too."

It was no surprise that you and Charles found your way to each other, you are identical in almost every way. The stockings contain a few of the same things, the same sweets, the same drawings.

To be fair, your drawing was a bit better than Charles' but it's the thought that counts.

Your hand rests on his jaw, giving him a kiss. "thank you baby, this is the sweetest thing you could have done."

#holiday extravaganza blurbs 23 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x y/n #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 imagine #f1 blurb

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sp0o0kylights · 1 year

Text

Part Two

15 days before Christmas Steve Harrington flinches when the Christmas lights strung along the arcade flicker.

Eddie only notices because he makes a habit out of keeping an eye on questionable people when he's out and about.

Watches Harrington recover with a little shake of his head and a roll of his shoulders, as Gareth finishes up his shift, swapping cashier positions with Jeff.

Dustin and Lucas stick around long enough to greet Jeff as Eddie stares, before scuttling off to Harrington's car, pushing and shoving each other the whole way.

Eddie frowns, but decides to put the whole thing out of his head.

He doesn't need his little lamb's adoration of evil high school figures to poison his day.

xXx

12 days before Christmas and Eddie is starting to realize Harrington is everywhere.

There's a little holiday display the town center has put on. A temporary ice rink surrounded by dazzling lights, hot chocolate stands, and plenty of things to see.

Wayne and Eddie, with their traditional day of Christmas shopping complete, stroll within it, a cup of hot chocolate in hand. They never buy much--can’t, but it’s still something fun for Eddie to do with his Uncle and so and he bounces about with glee as they people watch.

A familiar shriek hits the air, and Eddie turns in time to see Mike and Dustin collide on the ice, while Lucas and his sister skate literal circles around them, laughing.

Unable to pass up on the opportunity to tease, Eddie flies to the edge of the rink, waving his hand and demanding one of the kids do a flip.

"A flip!? Eddie, I can't even skate a circle!" Henderson shouts, at the same time as Wheeler adds;

“Let’s see you try and skate with these idiots!”

“Sorry Wheeler, I think getting on the ice with you might be hazardous to my health.”

“Shut up!”

Delightful banter officially traded, Eddie turns to find his Uncle in a conversation with Steve Harrington.

Grin immediately faltering into a frown, he approaches cautiously right in time to see Wayne clap Harrington on the shoulder.

“It gets better.” Wayne says gruffly, in that tone he uses when he’s trying to give deeply emotional advice without the emotional part.

The younger boy gave a hard nod, muttering something that might have been “Thanks.”

Eddie jerked to a stop several steps away, but close enough for Wayne to see him, to know he was done and it was time to go.

Thankfully his Uncle picked up the signal, and made his way over, so the two of them could finish out their lap around the town center.

"He’s one of your classmates, right?" Wayne asked, as they turned away from the rink, Harrington back to watching the kids laugh and play around the ring.

"Not anymore." Eddie scoffs. "That's Steve Harrington."

Wayne hums noncommittally.

"As in, the rich Harrington's.” Eddie prods, because come on everyone knew who the Harrington’s were, just as everyone delighted in rightfully shitting on them. They weren’t good people. “As in, the assholes from Loc Nora?"

Another hum.

Then; "People are more than their last name, Eds. You should know that."

Eddie jerks back, stung at the admonishment.

Wayne’s not mad, never is, but Eddie recognizes his Uncle’s disappointed tone loud and clear.

"One of the gifts you got from me was seein’ through people's bullshit.." Wayne continues, before sucking in a draw on his cigarette. "I'm surprised you didn't see through his."

‘I don’t want to see through his!’ Is what Eddie wants to say, but keeps it to himself.

Changed the subject instead, shoulders hiked to his ears, because Harrington having some kind of claim on his new players was one thing, but his Uncle!?

He didn’t care about whatever crap the guy was going through. King Steve has been an ass for as long as Eddie had known him, the kind of bully whose downfall you cheered for.

Sure it was petty, but guys like Harrington reveled in pettiness.

So who cared if Eddie didn’t want to look closer at him now? Harrington wasn’t a lost lamb.

He was at best, an injured wolf, and no amount of sad looks was going to make him any safer to be around.

xxx

9 days till Christmas and Wheeler is having a tantrum that's delaying Hellfire's holiday oneshot.

"I don't get why he hates Christmas so much. He didn't even know Will when he disappeared!" Mike snips with his arms crossed.

Dustin is across from him, a furious scowl on his face, as Lucas stands between, a physical barrier between the two.

"As usual, you're talking out of your ass, Mike." Henderson spits, furious. "He was in Will's house with Jonathan and Nancy. That's reason enough!"

As if that makes any kind of sense, but then this isn’t the first argument that went into weird territory like this. Eddie’s always prided himself on pulling stories out of people, earning secrets and truths with a well trained ear and a smarter mouth.

The freshman though, were proving to be a hell of a challenge.

Mike throws his hands in the air. "I'm just saying, we all have way more reasons to hate Christmas, but none of us are acting like the grinch!"

“I know you can only have two good thoughts a day without breaking your brain, but you're being so stupid." Dustin thunders. "Did you ever think Steve might have other reasons to hate Christmas!?”

Eddie almost groans aloud, because of course, of fucking course, this is about Harrington.

The guy was a goddamn ghost at this point, hellbent on haunting Eddie’s entire life.

Didn’t even have the courtesy to die first!

"Guys." Lucas stressed, hands now firmly pressed against Mike and Dustin’s chest. “Come on, we’re wasting time. We can talk about this later.”

“Oh don’t worry about that Sinclair,” Eddie purred, making the three of them jump, as though they had forgotten they had a full ass audience in the form of the rest of the club. “I’m just docking their HP points for every minute they hold up the game.”

“Shit!” Dustin and Milke yelled as one, scrambling to get to their chairs.

Gareth and Jeff snicker, Grant making it known he was over their antics with a look that could have burnt gold.

Eddie clapped his hands once, hard enough for it to echo throughout the room. “If everyone is done bickering,” He announced, slipping into his DM voice, “we can begin our tale…”

He launches into the story he’d planned, and enjoys pulling everyone into it, all thoughts of Steve Harrington left behind.

xXx

5 Days before Christmas and Eddie is panic shopping.

He’s not the one panicking, nor the one shopping, but he has a car and friends who know where he lives, so he’s woken up at an ungodly hour of the morning (10 am) by Gareth, Grant, and Henderson of all people.

“Gareth’s sister took the car again.” Grant explains with dramatic, rolling eyes at Eddie’s exasperated face.

“I’m sorry you planned going shopping five days before Christmas?”

“Well--no-” Grant continues at the same time Dustin and Gareth yell protests.

They talk over each other for a moment, loud enough to make Eddie crave coffee and the comfort of his bed.

He runs one hand through his frizzy, bedhead hair before yanking it out and waving it around to catch his friend's attention. “Alright, I get it! You all decided to do white elephant gift thing last minute, and are now scrambling."

"Speaking of which, you're invited." Henderson tells him with a cheeky grin. "We're doing it on Christmas Eve."

Of course they were.

"Please man? It'll be fun." Gareth pleads, as Grant shoots him his patented puppy dog eyes.

Eddie sighs.

"I'll do it, but!" He sticks a finger in the air as grins broke out, "I'm demanding food and coffee and payment!"

With that he retreated from the door, stomping back to his room.

"Good coffee, too!" He hollers as he throws on clothes, happy chatter breaking out among his friends.

Several arguments and one run to the best to-go coffee shop in town, and Eddie was following his buddies around as they wandered through downtown Hawkins.

Since the mall had burned, shopping options had been rather limited, shops slow to reopen.

It made it difficult to buy things last minute, but Eddie found it was actually kind of fun as Henderson explained the rules they'd all agreed on (hopefully, Gareth added, because the rules had been passed along in pieces.)

"The goal is to get outrageous, funny stuff." Dustin explains as they browsed the local bookstore. "Nothing more than fifteen dollars, and nothing Christmas-y."

Eddie raises an eyebrow. "Nothing Christmas-y?" He echoes curiously.

Dustin nods, serious.

"Yeah. Christmas can be kinda a downer for some people. We came up with this as a way to celebrate without all the holiday stuff involved."

"Some people like Harrington?" Eddie guesses, sinking feeling in his stomach.

There's no way Grant and Gareth would've agreed to do a gift exchange with Steve Harrington.

Right?

Dustin sighs dramatically, whole body heaving.

"I know you've got a weird hate-on for him, but this time of year is really hard on Steve." He snaps, exasperated. "It's not my place to talk about it outside the Party, but he doesn't deserve to deal with it on his own."

There's that word again, Party.

Capital P implied, just as it implies that it's a group that Eddie is firmly excluded from.

It stings as it lands, an unintentional insult that reminds Eddie that his newest little lambs have secrets they refuse to share.

Nevermind the fact that Steve is clearly included.

Eddie collects secrets like candy, but his poking and prodding had yet to get him a solid answer on the mysterious "party."

Rather than press, Eddie raises his hands in surrender.

"Easy there, tiger. No offense meant."

Full offense meant actually, but Eddie wasn't in the mood for a full blown Henderson Rant.

Dustin narrows his eyes, but takes his words at face value. "You know, you guys would really like each other if you both just got over yourselves."

Eddie snorts, but covers it by playfully shoving Henderson's cap down into his face.

"When hell freezes over maybe. Now look, they have a new science fiction display!" The last part is sing-songed.

Thoroughly distracted, Dustin lets the conversation drop, much to Eddie's relief.

(Because really him? Liking Harrington?

Not in a million freaking years.)

xxx

It's Christmas Eve and Eddie is staring furiously at Steve Harrington's house.

"No one told me he was involved." He hisses angrily, knuckles white on his steering wheel.

"Oh my god, stop being dramatic." Dustin rolls his eyes as he talks, unbuckling himself. “I told you Steve hates Christmas, so this is how we’re including him!”

Jeff is looking equally uncomfortable, even as Lucas and Mike fall out of the van.

Gareth's car is behind him, Grant with him.

No doubt they too, are staring at the massive house in front of them in horror.

Slowly the elder Hellfire members file out, standing in a clump as the younger members rush forward.

They storm the door like they live in the damn place, fluttering about like moths.

"What the hell." Jeff mutters quietly to Eddie's left.

"Yeah guys, what the hell." Eddie repeats, shooting a glare toward Gareth and Grant. "No one mentioned this part!"

"We didn't know." Gareth defends angrily. "This was all the freshman!"

"Are you idiots coming inside or not!?" Robin Buckley of all people yells, appearing in the now open front door.

Or rather, one of the front doors, because Harrington is rich enough to have two.

"Shit." Eddie mutters.

"It's not weird if we just--leave, right?" Grant mumbles, shuffling from foot to foot.

"It's very weird if we leave." Jeff responds flatly.

A flare of anger ignites in Eddie. It comes from Steve Harrington invading this entire holiday, and Eddie finally has a chance to catch him off guard.

He'd be damned if he let it pass by.

"Brave faces men." He says, tossing his hair back with a jerk of his hand. "We're storming the castle."

Struts forward determinedly, present in hand, fully planning on making Harrington as uncomfortable as he had made Eddie.

Unintentional, or not.

xXx

It's the day before Crapmas, the one holiday Steve hates, and he's somehow been sweet talked into hosting the kids white elephant exchange.

Which was fine--they were welcome in his home anytime and they knew it--but they'd conveniently forgotten to mention this was a Hellfire Club event.

As in, Eddie "the freak" Munson and his crew of three other dudes whose names Steve doesn't know (but who probably knew his.)

"I dunno man, I wasn't the best person to a lot of people." He worried at Dustin this morning, when the brat had sprung it on him. "This probably isn't the best idea."

"Please Steve!? It's too late to change the venue and you promised you'd do a holiday thing with each of us!" Dustin whined on the other end.

At least he had the forethought to not actually use the word "Christmas."

"You did everyone else's, you can't skip out on mine!"

Everyone else's was simple shit like taking them ice skating, or shopping, or making gingerbread houses.

Not hosting a whole ass party with four people who likely hated his guts--and for good reason.

Which Steve repeated to Dustin, staring vacantly at his carefully decorated house.

Once again, his parents had called in designers to come keep appearances, sending along their usual message that they may or may not be home depending upon various work factors.

"We just never know anymore with your father's job honey." His mother slurred on the phone, four years ago. "We'll make it up to you, sweetheart. Promise."

Like more money on his credit card could fix years of ruined holidays.

(At least them being gone was better than forcing Steve to perform in their horrible holiday parties. Dressing him up like a doll, gathering drunk adults around the piano to make him play horrid Christmas songs.

Showing him off like a well trained dog, complete with finger snaps to signal him to move on to his next trick. )

“Steeeeeeve-!”

As always, Steve crumbled under Dustin's badgering.

"Fine, fine!" He’d said. “You're responsible for letting them know me and Robin are gonna be there though!”

Robin, who’d been laying on his couch, poked her head up at her name.

“They’ll know!” Dustin had promised.

Then abruptly hung up, like the brat he was.

Now four half-terrified, half-murderous looking dudes were staring Steve down as they awkwardly stood in his living room, and he had the wondrous realization that Dustin had probably sprung this on them too.

‘Little. Asshole.’ Steve thinks, but plasters the best non threatening smile on his face.

“Hey, uh, guys.” He says with an awkward little wave.

He gets three sets of glares and one impressive looking spooked face back.

Mike and Lucas were already tackling the snacks he’d put out, cheeks full of chocolates and popcorn. Dustin was re-arranging furniture to his liking, and Robin, in-between her four classmates and Steve, glanced at both sides and rolled her eyes.

“Steve, go pull the pizza out of the oven. You lot, come sit down, you look like you’re about to bolt.” Robin snaps, making everyone sans the kids jump.

Happy for the distraction, Steve quickly retreats to his kitchen, overhearing Robin try and get the elder Hellfire members to identify themselves.

Chatter fills the room, slow at first, but it becomes more fluid with Robin’s ruthless prodding. The pizza ends up needing another five minutes, which suits Steve since he hadn’t had time to pull out drinks.

He’s bent at the waist, pulling out various cans when Dustin loudly announces his presence by barging into the fridge and smacking Steve’s ass with it.

With a yelp, cans fly everywhere as Steve drops them, bouncing off the floor and rolling across the kitchen.

“Henderson!” He gripes, standing up as the kid grins at him. He has all his teeth now but the smile will probably always feel cute to Steve. By-product of knowing the little shit for far too long.

“Sorry Steve.” He says dismissively, before stepping aside with a dramatic flair. “Now stop being a total housewife for a second and meet Eddie!”

The sound of cans still rolling ringing in his ears, Steve finds himself staring into Munson’s eyes.

Who looks all too delighted to have seen Steve fumble.

“Thought you were a jock, Harrington. What happened to those reflexes?” He smirks, and Steve feels his face flush red.

“Yeah well,” Steve says, hand reflexively rubbing the back of his neck, “Turns out hanging around kids kinda ruins them.”

This is clearly not the response Eddie was expecting.

Nor is he expecting Dustin to loudly announce that; “Steve once played a D&D campaign with us, but he totally ate it as a cleric. You should give him some tips, Eddie!”

Now it’s Steve’s turn to smirk, because Munson looks completely thrown.

“Is…that a joke?” Eddie asks carefully, looking between the two of them.

Dustin shakes his head. “Nope! You can ask Lucas’s sister, she was there.”

He then glances down at his watch, and gives the biggest fake gasp Steve has ever heard (and Steve once sat through Will and Mike acting in a play for their English class, while Nancy and Jonathan silently suffered second-hand embarrassment next to him.)

“Oh shit, I forgot something! Be right back!”

“Language!” Steve calls, as Dustin shoots out of the kitchen. “And be careful not to trip on the cans!”

Munson, who looks like he’s taken a wrong turn and ended up in the Twilight Zone, stares at him. “Did you seriously play a cleric?”

“Weave Healington was a brave man who sacrificed himself in a time of need.” Steve tells him seriously, just to see the guy’s reaction. “May he rest in peace.”

“Weave Healington.” Eddie deadpans.

Steve, keeping his face blank by the skin of his teeth, nods.

“Please tell me that wasn’t the pizza you just dropped.” Robin says as she flies into the kitchen, interrupting Eddie’s face rapidly cycling through different emotions with a badly wrapped present in her hands.

“Stevie boy dropped the pop, Buckley Bird.” Eddie says, recovering quickly. “I would not recommend drinking out of anything currently laying on the floor.”

“Noted.” Robin says, pausing to stare at the cans scattered about. “Hey Steve, did you wrap your weird eyeball thingie? Or do you want me to do it? I dunno how long the kids are gonna wait.”

Like a dog hearing a whistle, Munson’s whole head tips sideways. “Weird eyeball thingie?”

“Oh my god, it’s this--I don’t even know how to describe it. Like an alternative ouija board? It says it’s a “fortune telling game.” Robin makes the quotation marks with her hands. “It has this giant, ugly eyeball in the middle.”

She leans forward conspiratorially to add; “It glows in the dark.”

“Oh my god, Steve, your gift is Ka-Bala!?” Dustin says, bouncing up like a damn jack-in-the-box. “I’ve always wanted that game!”

“Robin!” Steve hisses, because of course she’d announce that right as Dustin would pop back up.

“Oh shit.” Robin says, shooting him an apologetic glance. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your gift.”

Steve sighs dramatically, but keeps a small grin on his face so Robin knows he’s not really upset. “Guess I’ll have to go find a new one--which means your punishment is that you and Dustin are now in charge of the pizza. And also picking up all the cans.”

“Curses.” Robin says flatly, before breaking out into a grin herself, while Dustin whines.

“It’s probably for the best.” Eddie says, though the guy sounds weirdly like someone desperately off balance and scrambling to fix it. “You know you weren’t supposed to pick cool gifts, right Harrington?”

Steve raises his eyebrows at him. “Cool? It’s kinda weird. It’s disgustingly neon green. And Robin forgot to mention it’s a board game.”

He pushes Dustin’s hat down as he walks by, and laughs aloud when Eddie follows up by knocking it right off Henderson’s head.

“Hey!” Dustin squeaks, hands darting to cover his hat hair.

He’s ignored.

“Neon green, giant eyeball, fortune telling board game?” Eddie sums up. “Yeah might have to murder Buckley because that sounds rad as hell.”

Steve snorts as he walks down the hall and up the stairs, somehow unsurprised to find the metalhead is following.

“You want it, Munson?” He asks as they hit his second floor, Steve aiming for his fathers office. “You’re welcome to it, I never even opened the thing.”

“What do you want for it?” Eddie asks, following Steve right through the door, before stopping dead.

A typical reaction to someone walking into his fathers stuffy, stupidly expensive office. Like the rest of Steve’s house, it looks as though it was transported straight out of a magazine. Everything is shiny and worse--unused.

“Nothing, man.” Steve said, standing in front of said desk now with his arms crossed. “I mean it, it’s still got the plastic on it. You’re gonna have to sneak it by Dustin though.” He turned to smile at Eddie, feeling like they were sharing a joke, “He might physically fight you for it.”

For some reason this made a hell of a blush streak across Munson’s cheeks, before the guy coughed and swung into the office behind Steve.

“He can try.” Eddie managed finally, voice a shade higher than normal.

As he always did to social things he didn’t understand, Steve just ignored the change.

“Why’d you never play it?” Eddie asks, as Steve scans the shelves of stupidly expensive knick-knacks.

“Someone trying to impress my parents got it for me one Christmas.” He says with a shrug. “They wouldn’t let me open it then, and I forgot all about it until I was digging for something else.”

“They don’t care about it now I take it?”

Steve can’t help the snort that leaves his throat. “They’d have to be around to care.” Then to get the conversation back on track, says; “Okay, I’m thinking the shitty World’s Best Boss trophy.”

He points to the gaudy thing, all shiny from the ass kissing the person who’d purchased it had done in hopes Steve’s dad would give him a raise. Or not fire him, Steve never knew which it was.

"I take it your dad’s not gonna be here to care that it’s gone?” Eddie asks, walking up to stand next to Steve.

Another grin appears on Steve’s face, shared conspiratorially with Eddie when he looks over to the metalhead. “That’s my gift to myself man. I’m gonna see how long it takes before he notices it’s gone.”

Eddie whistled, quiet enough to not hurt Steve’s ears. “Fuck the old man, huh?”

“Absolutely.” Steve agreed, stepping forward to fish the trophy down.

“Gotta say man, you’re surprising me. I didn’t expect such a thing from you. Especially since Henderson told me you hate Christmas.”

Steve shrugged as he turned back around, new white elephant gift in hand. “Yeah it’s a thing I’m trying.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Not hating Christmas?”

“Not being a dick. Which,” He shook the trophy, “--means sticking it to the biggest dick in my life. I think I’ll always hate Christmas.”

Eddie snorted a laugh, then looked startled, like he hadn’t expected that reaction out of himself.

Steve grinned at it.

“You uh--you know if you ever want to talk about the hating Christmas thing, I think I get it. Or can relate. Sorta.” Eddie says, and it’s so stilted that it takes Steve a moment to figure out what he’s offering.

He almost asks him if he’s kidding, but thinks better of it.

“I think I’m less cut up about it then the kids are but, for what it’s worth--thanks.”

Doesn’t think he’ll ever take anyone up on that offer, epically not someone who doesn’t know that an entire hell dimension exists under them but--

It’s nice. To have someone recognize that Steve hates it. That there are reasons he might.

He recalls suddenly that the man at the ice rink who’d also seen through his melancholy was in fact, Eddie’s Uncle, and briefly wonders if this just runs through the family.

“Come on, I gotta wrap this and then get back downstairs before Robin and Dustin burn the house down.” He says instead, because he doesn’t want to get in his own head about it. Not tonight, when he knows the kids have gone out of their way in an effort to celebrate the holiday without making him feel like he was celebrating it. “Or worse, they start the white-elephant without us.”

“After you, my liege.” Eddie says with a dramatic bow.

Steve pauses awkwardly for a moment, before giving the world's most careful curtsey back.

(Laughs loudly as Eddie almost falls on his face in surprise, before the older man scrambles to chase after Steve, out of the office.)

xXx

It’s 12:00 pm, making it officially Christmas day, and Eddie Munson is rapidly re-evaluating his entire life.

Well perhaps not all of it, just the parts with Steve Harrington.

They’re playing the best white-elephant game Eddie has ever participated in, a cutthroat competition that’s filled the house with shrieks and laughter.

Henderson’s gift, cat-paw shaped mittens with “You’ve gotta be kitten me” scrawled on the back is the current winning prize, with Mike’s salt and pepper shakers made in the shape of two pigs “porking” being a close second.

The worst gift is a tie between the eye searing scarf Gareth’s mother had created (complete with bedazzled gems) and an abomination of a stuffed animal Grant insists is an ET doll.

It looked like a deformed llama sat on its ass, and Lucas already scared Mike with it twice.

Eddie’s own gift, ( a mug with Tom Selleck posing shirtless) was jokingly fought over by Robin and Steve to the bitter end, while Gareth was defending the blue circular cookie tin (the kind that mothers shoved needles and sewing threads into, but shockingly enough actually held real cookies) with his life.

Literally at one point, as he laid over it while Jeff tackled him.

Eddie himself had gone for the gold, wanting the trophy Steve had procured. He too, was defending it aggressively against Dustin, who was currently stuck with Lucas’s gift (one of his sister’s pet rock creations she’d apparently tried to sell to her classmates.

It was hideous.)

Now stretched out on his bed, legs in the air as he stares at the Ka-Bala game Steve had snuck into his arms with a wink, Eddie finds he’s the guy’s managed to go from haunting his whole life, to trying to haunt his heart.

Made him want to do the thing he’d angrily been against this entire time--take a look at the guy closer.

See past his bullshit, at the person hiding underneath.

Find out what Steve was talking to his Uncle about, and why his house looked like a Christmas themed tomb.

Why his parents were gone. What the hell made him he pick a cleric in D&D. How he met the kids and why Dustin thought the sun shines out of his ass.

But most of all?

Why the hell had Steve Harrington put a note on the back of the Ka-Bala game?

‘Hope you like the game..’ It read, with the dorkiest little smiley face. ‘I wouldn’t mind hanging out again.’

Below it was a number, and Eddie felt himself go red in the face.

Steve Harrington was a fucking mystery, but one Eddie himself, had been personally invited to solve.

‘Merry Christmas to me I guess.’ He thought, and tried very, very hard not to kick his legs in the air.

#I invite you all to end your xmas with some steddie fluff #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things 4 #0o0 fanfics #xmas special #fluff #Ka #Ka-Bala is a real game and its the goofiest looking thing ever.#white elephant

4K notes · View notes

jesterwriting · 4 months

Text

pairings: trafalgar law x reader

contents: smut, fluff, soft!law, sleepy sex, use of “good girl”

word count: 1.2k words

note: HI THIS IS MY SECRET SANTA GIFT TO MANDIE!! i hope you enjoy it, i wanted to give you soft law moments so here you go. [dribbles this like a basketball and tosses it at you] merry late christmas @mandiemegatron ily and i hope youre doing well >:3

You were warm. From your head to the tips of your toes, you were warm. Law mumbled in his sleep, one hand on the back of your head drawing you closer to his chest where you could feel the rhythm of his heart. You hummed softly, and brushed a lock of dark hair from his forehead. For once, he looked at peace, his expression slack and no longer hard or drawn in concentration.

Like a cat, he snuggled his face closer to your palm. You chuckled, allowing yourself to cup the side of his face and brush your thumb against his stubble. With a small sigh, his eyelids fluttered open.

“Did I wake you?” You asked.

Law hummed, the corners of his lips twitching into a teasing smirk. “You may have.” He placed a gentle kiss on your wrist, right over your pulse. “What do you plan on doing to make it up to me?”

With a giggle, you pulled his face, and his smirk, closer. “What do you have in mind?”

He thought for a moment, exaggerating the gesture with an upward roll of his eyes. You watched the show with your own smile growing by the second. It was the moments like these that you loved, when Law could be playful and loving. It was a stark difference from his usually reserved demeanor, a Law that was only for your eyes to see.

“I can think of a few ways.”

You didn’t let him continue that train of thought. Unable to help it, with those gold, half-lidded eyes and teasing smirk, you pulled him into a kiss. Law’s lips melted against yours, moving in slow, languid motions betraying his sleepiness from earlier. He cupped your cheek and pulled you closer to him, legs tangled together under the covers. Law’s fingers traveled from your cheek to get lost in your hair, and with a light tug, he stole a moan from you. Swallowing the sound, you felt his lips twitch upward. He was proud of himself. It made your heart thunder in anticipation, knowing full well the direction the night was about to take. What had started as innocent would soon turn into a delectable passion you could never deny.

As if on cue, Law flipped you into your back, his body hovering over yours. With great effort, he pried himself from your lips to gaze into your eyes, his own full of affection. “Ready?”

You smiled and gave him a quick peck. “Always, Law.”

A chuckle rumbled in his chest. He was so close, you could feel the vibrations echo through your bones. Those long tattooed fingers that you couldn’t help but admire prodded at your mouth.

“Open.”

You obeyed happily. That earned you another pleased chuckle, a sound you would never grow tired of. Law slipped his digits past your lips into the warm cavern of your mouth. His skin tasted salty as you swirled your tongue around them, eliciting a low groan from your boyfriend.

“That’s it. That’s my good girl.”

You would respond if you weren’t currently preoccupied. With a ‘pop,’ Law removed his fingers from your mouth and trailed them down your exposed stomach, past your navel, and to your waistband. He toyed with the fabric before slipping them into your pants and between your folds, already wet from your earlier makeout session.

“Is kissing you really all it takes,” He asked rhetorically.

You were halfway through a fond roll of your eyes when his fingers slipped inside of you. Biting back a moan, your breath caught in your throat, and he laughed to himself as he drank in your expression. Law curled his fingers. He slowly pumped in and out of your pussy with a wet squelching nose. Fire ignited in your veins, scorching you from the inside out as he found that sweet spot deep inside of you. You let out a moan and pressed your lips to his. Tongue met tongue, Law’s grinding down on yours while he fingered you, hungry for more. When his thumb pressed against your clit, you couldn’t help but cry out.

Before you could fall over the edge, he pulled away. You whined and shifted your hips upwards, only to be met with a laugh. “Someone’s desperate. You can take it, can’t you?”

Desperate your ass. You could see Law’s need straining against his briefs, a wet stain of precum evident on the front of them. He was the one whose will was breaking here, not you. If there was one thing you knew, it was that Law could make you fall apart on his fingers more times than you could count. Not this time though, he needed to feel you around him, tight and wet, pulling him deeper inside of you.

“You’re the one who's desperate,” You countered.

Law only huffed in response. You watched his thumbs hook around the waistband of his briefs. Normally, he would make a show out of shimmying out of them, make you watch the motion of his hips, fabric caught at the base of his dick, begging to spring free. Not this time, though. His underwear was around his ankles before you had time to blink, your own pants not far behind. You fought a pleased grin. Law was acting like a man starved. It made you feel warm that only you could get him in this state.

The head of his cock teased your entrance for only a moment before he was sliding inside of you with a moan. Feeling full, you grinned up at his expression, his eyes squeezed shut in concentration, lips parted ever so slightly as he bottomed out. You reached for him, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull his lips to yours. Law kissed you. Not a long drawn out one, but several small ones across every inch of your face. Love made your heart swell, and your stomach tightened with pleasure when Law began to thrust deeper into you.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” He muttered against the shell of your ear. “I can’t take much of this.”

His admission made your cunt pulse, drawing another moan from Law. His forehead met yours, golden eyes gazing into yours with so much love, it made you lightheaded. You moaned as Law’s hips snapped to meet yours, again and again, the rhythm growing more eager with each second that passed. You knew he was close when he got sloppy, and sloppy he became.

He gasped, stealing a kiss from you. “Are you close?”

You nodded and brought his hands up to your breasts. His thumb circled your hardened nipples as your spine tingled against his ministrations.

“Fuck, I can’t-” He slammed into you one final time, his cum painting your insides white. Through the haze of his pleasure, he rubbed your clit until your own irgasm hit you like a truck. You arched your back off the bed and dug your fingers into his back. Law crooned, “That’s it. Just like that.”

It was hard to catch your breath for a moment. You panted heavily, only stopping your heavy breathing to allow Law to pepper your face with kisses. First your jaw, then your cheeks, then the corners or your lips, before he cupped your face and pressed his lips to yours. You fondly smoothed back his hair.

“I love you.”

Law’s eyes softened as he smiled down at you. “I love you too.”

#one piece x reader #law x reader #.jesterwrites

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luveline · 5 months

Note

jadey would you please mind giving us more of kbd!steve this season? xxxx

kbd dad!steve and mom!reader fight over christmas pyjamas, 1.4k

“I don't know what you want me to say.”

Steve frowns deeply at you. Another haircut, another day more handsome than before, he pulls off everything, but not…

“Say you like them,” he demands, hooking his thumbs in his pyjama top and pulling it outwards to properly show you the front.

Steve is wearing Christmas pyjamas. The Grinch from The Grinch Who Stole Christmas in all his scrooge glory grins at you evilly against a red background. The pants are white, patterned by red and green drawings of the Grinch holding a Christmas present. He looks much happier from your husband's thighs than the long sleeved shirt.

“Babe, they have cuffs. We're gonna be warm all day,” he says.

“They don't match,” you say, pointing to the Grinch on his leg, who holds a pink gift wrapped in yellow ribbon. “Maybe it's the pink and red throwing me off.”

His frown turns to a pout, the almond shape of his warm brown eyes at a downturn as he says, “You really don't like them.”

You crack like a weak walled chestnut over a flame. “I'm kidding! I'm just messing with you, baby, I love them. They're so Christmas-sy. Did you get some for me?”

His relief is palpable. “I got some for everyone.”

Steve got matching pyjamas for himself, you, the kids, and Robin. He shows you them from a bag on the kitchen table, where you ooh and aah reluctantly. You love him, love everything he does, but you're finally on your holidays vacation and you'd wanted to spend as much of it sitting down as possible. Not that sitting down is possible at home, but you digress.

Steve senses your reluctance with a grumble pressed into the back of your neck, his arms grabbing you from behind. “Alright, I get it! You hate me and your kids and you hate Christmas most of all, whatever. I should've married Tammy Thompson.”

You laugh and lean forward over his arms. “Tammy Thompson wouldn't have wanted a thing to do with you, H, on account of you being a cruel, know-it-all narcissist who forces his exhausted wife off of the couch at every opportunity he–”

“Alright, that's enough.”

Steve squeezes you until you're pleading with him to let you go, a riot of giggles forced from your lungs as he digs his hands into your sides, his fingers practically drilled into your ribs. You call for mercy and he ignores it, muttering about narcissism in your ear. He laughs as you laugh, can't keep up the act.

“Beg for me to stop,” he says.

“Stop!” you say, trying to pull his arms off of your stomach. “Steve, stop it!”

“Say you'll wear the pyjamas.”

“Steve! I'll wear them! Would you–”

“Get off of her!” Bethie shouts, barrelling into the room to push at her dad's legs.

It's so unlike Beth to shout that you both immediately stop fighting. For a split second, you think she's worried that Steve was actually hurting you, but then she laughs as she punches him in the thigh and sticks herself between your breathless bodies, two small arms extended to keep you apart.

When she's sure Steve is done, she wraps her arms around you, looking up into your face with a big smile. “Saved you, mom.”

“You saved me,” you agree, bending down to hug her, “thank you, sweetheart, thank you.” You drop tens of kisses into her hair and face, so many that Steve makes a show of huffing.

“Beth, she deserved it,” he says. “She doesn't wanna wear our matching jammies. Don't you wanna do that?”

She looks at him with those big sorry eyes only young children can master. “Yeah, dad, but…”

“But what?”

“But she's my mom.”

You pull one of the kitchen chairs out and sit down, patting your lap for her to climb up and sit with you. “But I'm her mom,” you sing-song, ever so slightly smug.

“And I'm, what? Cat food?”

“Don't listen to him, baby, he's just jealous.”

Steve turns away from you both, showfully miffed. Bethie giggles and turns into your chest. “He's mad,” she laughs.

“So mad.” You drop your nose into the side of her cheek.

“Are we still having a treat tonight?” she asks.

“Of course we are. It's Christmas! Mom's home, daddy's catching up on his sleep, we're all having cake and ice cream and chocolates until we can't eat anymore,” you promise.

“Wish you were home all the time.”

“Me too, baby,” you say, rubbing her cheek with the tip of your nose slowly. “I wish you could come to work with me. That would be so fun. But we have to make the most of our time away, yeah? Let's have lots and lots of fun.”

“I saved you,” she says, “so maybe I can have extra cake.”

“Beth. You can have as much as you want tonight, I promise.”

“I love Christmas,” she decides.

Steve rushes back into the kitchen with a child under each arm. Dove laughs, her eyes practically sparkling, not a care in the world though she's upside down, and Avery clings to Steve's waist, shouting, “Dad, put me down!” through nervous giggles.

“Tell mom what I told you,” he says.

“Dad, I'm slipping!”

“Avery, you're not slipping. I'm frankly insulted that you think I would drop you. Now tell your mother what we said.”

“Daddy's not a nar-pasit!” Dove says joyfully. “He's a sweetheart.”

“He's a huge narcissist,” you correct in a similar tone.

“He's dropping me!” Avery cries.

Steve shakes her until she screams. “I am not! For Christ's sake, I can curl you like two pound weight, you delinquent! Now.” He takes a deep, fake breath, pulling the two girls higher into his armpits. “Like we rehearsed.”

“I did my turn,” Dove says, reaching out for you, her smile hard to miss even if she is upside down..

“Dad didn't even want to marry that lady,” Avery says, her eyes squeezed closed. Steve chuckles and kisses her head, amused by her silly worry. “He's only ever wanted to be in love with you. And to drop me.”

Steve chokes he laughs so hard, leaning forward and depositing the eldest girl onto two steady feet. “Perfect as always, Ave. And you!” He twists into a shape, Dove's head getting closer and closer to the floor. She couldn't be happier, giggling like she's been tickled the whole while. “You did perfect too, honey.”

“I didn't even bring up that lady,” you say.

Steve and Dove return back to the right way round after some careful manoeuvring. “My bad. Babe. Y/N. I'm sorry, okay? I'm a loser and–” He nudges Dove aside gently to take your hands, your knees, ignoring Beth where she's in the way to kneel in front of you. “I just need you to want to wear these pyjamas as bad as I want you to. So pull it together.”

You put your lips to the shell of Beth's ear. “Should we forgive him?”

“Mmm…” Beth points at Avery. “He has to say sorry for almost dropping Avey.”

“Right.” You nod sagely.

Steve turns to Avery with wide eyes, “You're not actually upset, are you?” he asks, putting out his hand to her.

“My brains are like cranberry sauce,” she says.

He raises his eyebrows, delighted. “Yeah? The thick one from the can?”

Dove climbs under his arm. He pulls her in for a cuddle unthinkingly, but just as quickly she's ducking away from him to walk up to Avery, reaching for her face. Avery leans down obligingly.

Dove pokes her forehead.

“I'm not really jelly!” Avery says, giggling.

“Well, I'm sorry if I scared you almost dropping you,” Steve says, holding his hands together, brown eyes like melting sugar in his pleading. “Can you please forgive me, so mommy will forgive me, and we can put on our new jammies?”

Avery isn't stubborn. “Yeh, okay. I'll forgive you.”

He smiles, turning to you now for the final verdict.

“I already said I'd wear them, Steve,” you say with a grin.

“Oh. Good. Alright.” He climbs to his feet, split from cheek to cheek. “I'm gonna go get the baby. Aw, shit, and the camera. Practise your poses until I come back, angels!”

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c-nstantine · 5 months

Text

for the man who has everything

Description: Dick doesn't know what to get Bruce for Christmas

Warnings: Allusions to sex

Word Count: 0.6k

Just days before Christmas, Dick Grayson had found a gift for everyone except Bruce Wayne. In all fairness, it's really hard shopping for a billionaire. Either Bruce already had the gift or it was something so minuscule that it didn't matter if Dick had gotten it or not.

"What did y'all get Bruce for Christmas?" Dick asked as he found his siblings wrapping presents in the den. Thomas was drawing his mother and father pictures while the twins simply played with bows in their playpen.

"Condoms," Jason spoke first. His tongue poked out of his pink lips with concentration as he focused on making sure that the edges of the box were wrapped to perfection.

"Listen, I love Thomas, Martha, and Alfred, but he doesn't need any more kids," Jason tried to justify himself as his siblings turned and stared at him.

"So as a Christmas present, you got him condoms," Stephanie reiterated carefully.

"Yep, a whole lifetime supply," Jason said proudly, holding up the now-wrapped box of condoms. Interestingly, enough his siblings agreed that maybe this was a good gift.

"Okay? Next," Dick said, slightly ignoring what Jason said. He didn't want to think about how Jason 'acquired' a lifetime supply of condoms because that doesn't seem possible.

"I finished his paperwork for the next three quarters," Tim slipped a manila folder into a Christmas bag with a bow and smiled. Sometimes Bruce was a little lazy with his paperwork but it's not like the board of directors would notice anyway.

"Sometimes I forget he's a CEO," Stephanie said while scratching her head. Honestly, he just gets referred to as Y/N Wayne's husband. It's totally not like she took his last name or anything. Sometimes he was grateful to not have all of the spotlight on him.

"I painted a portrait of mother and father," Damian adjusted the bow on his gift. He had painted a large oil painting of the two of them. His siblings were a bit surprised at how he had found the time to do this.

"Me and Cass got him an original copy of Zoro's poster," This gift was a bit more sentimental. Coming from Duke and Cass, it was perfect. Knowing Bruce he'd probably hang it in one of his offices. These were all exceptional gifts but Dick didn't have anything yet. The door opened to the den and everyone stopped what they were doing.

"Hey, ma. What did you get Bruce for Christmas?" Jason asked, after exhaling. The room was less tense at the realization that it was just Y/N. She had come to get the twins and check their diapers.

"I can't tell you," She said in a baby voice as she picked up Martha and Alfred from their playpen. The two babies gurgled at the sight of their mother.

"Gross," Tim spoke before realizing that he said it out loud. Dick snorted in response and Y/N jokingly glared at her son.

"Not like that, it's a surprise," She spoke with a baby on either side of her hips.

"Is it another baby? Because if it is Jason's gift is going to be hilarious," Duke asked, putting two and two together. The room tensed once again and everyone panned to Y/N waiting for a response. She felt like they were searing holes into her head.

"No, it's not another baby." Everyone collectively let out a sigh of relief. The thought of Bruce having any more children was a bit daunting. Isn't he old by now anyway?

"You'll find out at dinner tonight. Merry Christmas, kiddos," She said walking out of the den with her babies in tow.

"Merry Christmas, "The kids chorused back to her and Dick still didn't know what to get Bruce for Christmas.

#x black!reader #black!reader #black reader #x black reader #bruce wayne x black!reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #black!batmom #jason todd #dick grayson #cassandra cain #duke thomas #tim drake #damian wayne

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lovinpelova · 4 months

Text

secret santa | j. fleming

summary; jessie leaves your real present at home. [SMUT]

🎵 right my wrongs - bryson tiller

you watched on excitedly as millie opened her present from you, a massive grin appearing on her face once she caught sight of the white t-shirt you'd had custom made for her. a cartoon drawing of her and rachel was in the middle alongside their dogs by their feet, a massive 'daly dose of brightness' calligraphy sign above them as they pointed up to it, millie looking up and finding you immediately as she knew only you would get her something like that.

"i'm putting this on right now!"

she stood up to take off her shirt and modelled for the girls when they wolf-whistled at the sight of her shirtless, quickly putting on her new shirt and continuing to model it as you all cheered her on. the defender made her lap of the group whilst doing a model walk and arrived at you, kissing your forehead with a thanks before sitting down again. emma picked up a gift from the pile in the middle of you all and read the name, looking up to find you.

"think fast!"

she threw it towards you and applauded when you caught it with ease, slightly disappointed you didn't let it drop. the present was shaped like a flat rectangle and light, the price limit on your secret santa was twenty-five pounds so you had no idea what it could be, all the girls watching to see what it was as you tore it open. you noticed it was a 2024 calendar - cleary personalised - with the back showing twelve pictures of your teammates dressed up in stupid outfits matching the seasons.

january was erin and guro wearing new years hats with partyblowers in their mouths, february was jessie holding a heart-shaped pillow and wearing a hat that said 'happy valentines day' whilst blowing a kiss to the camera, april was jess dressed up like the easter bunny and mia sneaking out of frame with a basket full of eggs, june was zecira and lauren wearing hawaiian shirts with sunglasses on a fake beach whilst pushing their cocktail glasses together in cheers, october was niamh and fran dressed in matching vampire costumes alongside guro fighting them off with a garlic clove and wooden stake and december was all of the girls in different christmas jumpers surrounded by presents.

the remaining months were just your teammates wearing random things and being stupid if there wasn't any specific holidays, one of them being millie dressed up as a firefighter and pretending to slide down a pole with one leg popped up behind her and a finger on her pouting lips, a running inside joke on your team being that she'd make a great firefighter purely for the 'sexy' calendar photoshoots they have.

"oh this is so cute! best present ever."

you commented whilst flicking through the months and showing your teammates your favourites, getting slightly distracted on february but quickly snapping out of it once erin started teasing you for shamelessly staring at jessie. there could have only been one person who came up with this thoughtful idea and actually went through with it, no one but your girlfriend would take the time to make such a cute gift. you quickly stood up and walked over to the canadian whilst kissing her on the cheek, thanking her quietly as she smiled brightly with a blush, so happy you liked the gift but still growing a little shy once you kissed her.

the rest of the girls opened their presents and were all happy with what they received, sitting and talking for an hour or so before some people started to leave once emma dismissed you all from the team bonding session. jessie informed you earlier that she had another gift waiting at home, claiming she forgot to bring it as she was in a hurry that morning but wanting you to open it when you got back to your shared place anyways. your curiosity got the better of you and you'd practically dragged your girlfriend out of cobham training grounds towards your car, ignoring the chuckle she'd let out when you were beginning to grow restless out of anticipation.

"come on we're literally there! you might as well tell me what it is."

"sorry baby, no can do."

jessie refused for the umteenth time after you asked her to say what your actual gift was, unlocking the door to your shared apartment and letting you in first as she watched you practically sprint towards the bedroom where you knew it would be. you saw a neat box laying on the bottom of your bed with a red bow over it, picking it up to see there was no brand name or indication of what it could be. you carefully untied the ribbon with jessie leaning against the doorframe as she watched on with a smirk, grinning when you took off the lid and gasped at what you saw.

a black lace lingerie set was neatly laid out in the box in front of you, your eyes unable to leave it as you'd never worn anything like that before and didn't think jessie would be into it. (future you would be screaming about just how into it jessie is.)

"you like it?"

you turned to jessie and nodded your head shyly, kicking off your shoes by the end of the bed and pulling the set out of the box, holding it up to find thankfully she hadn't bought you a thong as you didn't like wearing them. it was a simple black lace lingerie set- yet you were obsessed. you hurried into the ensuite as jessie sat down on your side of the bed patiently, slowly getting more and more riled up at the thought of you in lingerie just for her, thinking about how gorgeous you'd look in the set and that she was definitely going to make you keep it on somehow as she fucked you later on.

she was knocked out of her thoughts by you opening the ensuite door and leaning against the doorframe shyly, not knowing what to do with yourself as jessie took you in and chuckled at your awkward nature when it came to things like this. she waved you over with a massive grin playing on her face, shamelessly checking you out as your arms went around her neck whilst you straddled her lap when she moved to lean against the headboard, squealing at the unexpected slap she landed to your ass before squeezing it.

"you like it?"

you repeated her earlier question in a teasing manner, watching the way her eyes wouldn't stay still as they roamed all over your body alongside her hands.

"god, i love it. this is so much better than i ever could've imagined. you get more beautiful by the day."

you blushed at her endless array of compliments as she babbled them out like she was drunk, lips moving forward to take the skin above your breasts and below your collarbone into her teeth as she bit harshly, grinning at the hiss of pain you exerted before she ran her tongue over it whilst sucking. she continued this all over your chest and neck, moving to flip you over so she could move her lips down your stomach and repeat her actions, loving the way your hands tangled in her hair and breathing picked up. the canadian looked up to see your chest rising and falling at a faster rate, absolutely adoring the way your bra was hugging your breasts in all the right ways to drive her feral; she couldn't help but move back up to your chest and pay them extra special attention once she was done with your stomach.

"god i love your tits. they look so fucking gorgeous right now- i'm gonna go insane."

"the least you could do is fuck me before i commit you to an insane asylum then."

jessie shook her head at your stupid joke, chuckling alongside you as she leaned down to kiss you sweetly, moving her lips down your neck to make more marks.

"if i could i'd take a picture to make sure this moment never ends."

"i never said you couldn't."

you smirked up at her, watching her eyes light up as you nodded your head in approval of her questioning glance. the midfielder reached for her bedside table and found her polaroid amongst her mini collection of cameras, positioning the lens in a way that only showed the bottom of your jaw all the way down to the waistband of your underwear, quickly taking a picture and placing the camera back on her drawer to sort out later on. her lips quickly found their way to your inner thighs and continued the trail of love bites she'd set herself on a mission of making, teeth wrapping around your waistband and pulling back before letting go, grinning at the whine you let out when it snapped back against your skin.

unable to control herself anymore, her fingers dipped under and softly began rubbing your clit to earn a moan of her name, your legs spreading open further in a silent plea as jessie moved her digits down to your entrance and prodded them both in slowly to not stretch you out too painfully. you pulled her into a heated kiss as she moved her free hand to massage your breast over the bra she'd gotten you, your hands tangling into her hair and tugging when she started moving her fingers. she quickly built you up and attached her mouth to your nipple over the bra, curling her fingers simultaneously as you pushed her head further into you and arched your back with a groan of pleasure.

"you're so fuckin' sexy babygirl. been dreaming of havin' you wear something like this for months now."

"won't be the last time if you keep fucking me this good every time i wear it."

you promised with a wink whilst keeping back your moans, throwing back your head as she observed the way your body was reacting to her hand. she was curling her fingers into your g-spot, pulling out every now and then to tease as she rubbed your wetness over your puffy clit frantically before going back to finger-fucking you like her life depended on it, loving the way you were whimpering at the loss of her digits every time. you grabbed her wrist when you felt her pulling out and gave her a look of warning, loving the way she cowered under your gaze and stopped the games with a peck on your lips in apology.

her thrusts started to get rougher and more forceful when she began to take in your body again, the sight of you getting fucked in lingerie riling her up to no end as she moaned, no longer keeping the thoughts of what she wanted to do to you at bay. jessie felt your walls clamping down on her fingers every time she pushed them in, growing tighter with each thrust whilst she groaned in response to the feeling of your arousal flooding her fingers.

"you gonna cum baby? am i fucking you good?"

"m'gonna cum- don't stop!"

you begged continuously as she kissed along the love bites she'd left behind in response, moving her thumb up at an awkward angle to rub your clit in tight circles whilst your nails raked blood-red trails down her back like she'd just been mauled by a tiger. jessie grunted in pain whilst biting her lip to distract herself from it, focusing on making you feel as good as possible.

"gonna be a good girl and look pretty whilst you cum all over my fingers?"

"m'your good girl."

"that's right baby. such a pretty princess. dressing up for me and letting me fuck you like this, such a good girl. my good girl."

that's all it took for the floodgates to open and your mouth to start letting out as many expletives as you could think of, nails continuing to make their mark on her waist and back as jessies hand didn't relent for one second. your breathing eventually evened out as your orgasm finally subsided, realising your girlfriend still had her fingers knuckle-deep inside you as you looked to her in confusion, seeing the dark look in her eyes as she raked them up and down your body in a way that said 'i'm not done with you yet' whilst she turned you over so you were straddling her again.

oh, she was gonna fuck you so good.

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