#+ listing says it might not even be the picture in the listing photo (just a similar one signed in a similar place) but i want that oneeee

[cozylittleartblog]

worst way to start my new year, thanks. i have a lot of things to say about these companies but i'm tired and just keeping it focused to the pin side of things for this one. do not ever buy pins from these companies, literally ALL of them are stolen from small artists like me. if you want to buy enamel pins, check out etsy, and artist's personal websites and shops! (though even Etsy has some bootleg pins that ship straight from china, so tread carefully…)

Every pin I've designed is, thus far, EXCLUSIVE to my etsy. if you find it anywhere else, it's been ripped off! and once these stupid bootlegs pop up, it's basically a never ending game of whack-a-mole trying to get them all taken down...

[transmasciero]

i must not fall victim to the white man

[suiana]

yandere! golden boy who is your loving boyfriend and... surprisingly loves listening to you talk about your interests! yes darling, talk about your games and novels and silly plushies! he loves seeing how interested you can get about things you're passionate about and it just makes him feel so warm on the inside.

you might even go as far to say he ENCOURAGES your interests. buying you plushies, taking you to exhibitions/places you want... you don't even have to ask, just one look with your eyes and he's taking out his card. yeah, it doesn't matter if you have an unhealthy attachment to that fat cat pusheen or whatever. you seem to really like it so he's buying that 400 dollar plushie for you.

on the same note... he can't help but get jealous when you're gushing over attractive fictional characters. SPECIFICALLY that ONE dude that you seem to have EVERYWHERE. on the wall, on your phone cover, lock screen, profile picture, fuck, even on your bed as a plushie! and all he gets is a meager nickname on his contact?!

"sweetie, must you... really have all these... THINGs of HIM?"

"he's my first husband, you're my second. of course i have merch of him. plus I'm not gonna just throw all these away, i spent big money on these ya know 💀"

he knows it's petty! he knows that it's just a fictional character and that he shouldn't be jealous but dude! you don't even have him in your wallet! it's that freaking guy!

so he does what evey sane boyfriend does and replaces some (not all just some!) of your merchandise with pictures of him and you. how adorable, right?

no.

"bro where is the portrait of my MAN🤬🤬🤬"

"i replaced it with a nice picture of us together darling☺️ look at how cute-"

oh. and you...you just put another photo of that guy again... oh... and you're ranting on reddit/instagram about how he's being mean... you also removed him from your close friends list... oh you... you also decided to kick him off the bed and onto the sofa... oh...

well no biggie! he has lots of patience and he will sneak in his presence into your stuff. he's determined.

"best friend I'm going to need you to cosplay as my favorite character please ☺️"

damn!

why didn't he think of that sooner? if you can't win the normal way, you should do it another way, right? he can just get you to see how much better he is and you'll eventually replace that fictional man for HIM!

...

yeah, that didn't work out as planned. now you're even more in love with that character and you're asking him to cosplay every other day. erm... at least.. your wallpaper is a picture of him cosplaying the character??? he'll take what he can get.

"lol best friend, did you see that video i sent you. it's so stupid."

"for the last time, sweetie. we're dating, call me boyfriend. and which one? I can't watch every single one of the 99+ reels you send me."

"a real best friend would watch them all..."

being with you has singlehandedly changed this man. for the worse or for the better, he doesn't know. but what he does know is that you DON'T know how to dress.

"sweetie, no. you can't just go out in a shirt and shorts! you look like adam sandler!"

"clothes are clothes 🤬"

at least he has a fun time dressing you up. you're like, his cute little rat! his very own personal dress up rat! oh how he wants to just keep you in his pocket and pick out pretty clothes for you, making you look like the cutest thing ever! sure you might take them off and just wear what you want but... at least he's got the photos and the sight of you in a pretty outfit ingrained into the folds of his brain already ☺️ and he'll take every chance he can get to put you into another pretty outfit again. that i assure you.

he... has ALSO found out that you are living on instant noodles, sandwiches, and the occasional takeout. you don't even open the curtains! how can you see in such a dark home? and why are you sleeping until midday?! dear oh dear. you really are a rat, huh?

"darling get up! it's 12 in the afternoon already!"

"i slept at 3 just let me sleep more..."

that simply won't do. he will not be allowing you to lead such a horrid lifestyle! not if he can help it! especially because... well, he's also your boss. from part 1, remember! yeah, you guys didn't break up at the end haha! you were just joking, obviously! not like you'll ever be able to break up. it's in the contract, silly.

"come on, get up. you need to have a healthy lifestyle. I've already gotten my personal chef to cook up a healthy meal for you."

"who's gonna stop me from living like this? you? 😂😂😂"

"yes, me. in our contract, remember? i will be responsible for your health from now till we die."

don't worry. he'll be by your side every step of the way. and hey, who knows? maybe you can even teach him a thing or two about gaming or something else you like! he's open to learning about the things you like.

and he won't even have to worry about you finding another REAL person to like because... well, let's just say you don't even like going out for dinner. we'll keep it at that ☺️

[be4chywritez]

red red wine | quinn hughes

quinn hughes x fem!reader

the week leading up to Quinn proposing to you, and the chaos that follows him.

recs are open + prompt list

beachy’s masterlist🐚

One Week Before

You stand in the kitchen of the lake house, absently scrolling through your phone while Jim and Ellen sit at the table, chatting over their morning coffee. Quinn is perched on a stool at the kitchen island, Jack and Luke beside him, all three listening in as you think out loud.

“I think I’m gonna get my nails done,” you say, mostly to yourself, glancing up from your screen. “I found this cute place nearby on Instagram. Might go check it out.”

Quinn freezes. Luke and Jack do the same, exchanging quick glances before all three of them force identical, strained smiles.

“Here?” Quinn asks, a little too casually.

You nod and turn your phone to show Ellen the pictures. “Yeah, thought it’d be nice to get a little pampered. Ellen, want to come with?”

For a split second, her eyes flick to Jim before she shakes her head with a warm—if slightly nervous—smile. “Oh, no, sweetheart. I think I’ll stay back, got a few things to tidy up around the house.”

You frown slightly, glancing between them. “I mean, I don’t have to go either. I could just hang—”

“NO!”

The entire Hughes family responds in unison, voices overlapping in a loud, comically panicked outburst. Even Jim, who’s been silent all morning, leans forward, wide-eyed like you just suggested setting the house on fire.

Quinn is the first to recover. He clears his throat and plasters on a quick, reassuring smile. “No, honey, you should definitely go. Treat yourself.” He waves a hand toward the door, trying—and failing—to sound nonchalant. “Have a nice day out.”

Your eyes narrow. “Okay…?” You drag the word out, suspicious, but slide your phone into your bag anyway. Grabbing your keys, you head for the door, throwing one last curious glance over your shoulder before stepping out.

As soon as the door clicks shut, Luke lets out a long breath. “Close call.”

Jim shakes his head, grinning. “She almost caught on already. We need to be more careful, boys.”

Downtown is quiet, the main street lined with flower boxes and little local shops. Lakeside Nails sits nestled between a café and an old bookstore, its windows decorated with delicate white lettering.

A nail tech waves you over with a friendly smile. “Hi! You must be my one o’clock.”

“That’s me.” You settle into the chair as she sets up.

“I’m Maya. What are we doing today?”

You pull up a photo. “Something like this? Just a clean, neutral look.”

Maya nods approvingly. “Pretty! So, just a little solo pampering trip?”

“Sort of. I’m staying at the lake house with my boyfriend and his family. Thought I’d take a little break and explore.”

Maya hums, focusing on your nails. “How’d you two meet?”

You smile, thinking back. “Through mutual friends. He was quiet at first, but then he made me laugh when I wasn’t expecting it. I don’t know… I just felt comfortable with him.”

“Those are the best ones,” she says with a grin. “Sounds like a good guy.”

“Yeah,” you say softly, warmth blooming in your chest. “He really is.”

When you walk back into the lake house, Quinn is stretched out on the couch, scrolling through his phone. He glances up as you come in, a lazy smile spreading across his face.

“Hey,” he says, sitting up. “Let’s see the nails.”

You plop down beside him, holding out your hand. He takes it, running his thumb lightly over your fingers. “Looks good,” he says, approving.

“Glad you think so.” You lean into him as his arm wraps around you, the warmth of his touch settling you into an easy quiet.

The rest of the evening is simple—pasta and salad for dinner, laughter when Quinn drops a handful of cherry tomatoes and watches them roll across the counter. Later, you curl up under a blanket with an old movie on, his fingers absentmindedly running through your hair. The house is peaceful, filled with the soft flicker of the TV and the steady rhythm of his breathing.

You don’t notice the way he looks at you. The way his gaze lingers, like he’s memorizing everything. Like he’s counting down.

Five Days Before

You wake slowly, the warmth of morning light filtering through the curtains. Quinn’s arm is draped over your waist, his hand resting lightly on your hip, his breathing steady and close. He stirs, his nose brushing against the back of your neck as he pulls you closer.

“Morning,” he mumbles, voice thick with sleep.

You smile, rolling over to face him. His eyes are still half-closed, messy hair falling over his forehead. You trace your fingers along his cheek, feeling the scratch of stubble. He leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

“Good morning,” you whisper.

He catches your hand, lacing his fingers through yours before bringing it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

You don’t realize how he looks at you—like you might disappear if he blinks.

“Honey, we’re on breakfast duty,” you remind him.

Quinn groans, shoving his face into your collarbone, stubble tickling your skin. He mumbles something, voice muffled.

You laugh. “No, we can’t let your brothers do it. Unless you want the house to burn down.”

Another grunt, but this time, he shifts, reluctantly getting up. You follow, falling into your usual morning routine.

As you pull on a sweater, he watches from the bathroom mirror, hoping you don’t dig too far into his sock drawer.

Hoping you don’t find the velvet box.

You don’t, thanks to a the higher power, but it only puts more pressure on Quinn to pop the damn question.

Four Days Before 

The lake house hums with its usual morning energy—Jack and Luke bickering over who gets the last pancake, Ellen moving around the kitchen with effortless ease, and Jim sipping his coffee while reading the newspaper like he’s immune to the chaos around him.

Quinn, however, is focused on one thing.

He leans against the counter, arms crossed, watching as you sit at the kitchen table, scrolling absently through your phone. Every few seconds, you look up to add something to the conversation, laughing as Luke launches a grape at Jack’s head. Quinn should be listening, should be jumping in with a comment of his own, but instead, his mind is caught on a single thought: How do I get her to buy the dress?

The dress—the one he wants to see you in when he finally asks the biggest question of his life. He saw it a few days ago when you were flipping through your phone, showing Ellen some boutique you wanted to check out. You hadn’t bought anything yet, just admired a few pieces before getting distracted by something else.

Now, with only four days to go, he needs to make sure you pick the one.

Quinn exhales through his nose and glances toward his brothers. Perfect.

Jack notices first, eyebrows furrowing as he watches Quinn silently glare at him. What? he mouths.

Quinn jerks his head toward the living room, signaling them to follow. Jack and Luke exchange a glance but don’t argue, trudging after him as he disappears down the hallway.

Once they’re out of earshot, Quinn turns to them, hands on his hips like he’s about to give them the most important assignment of their lives.

“Alright, I need you two to do something for me.”

Jack immediately groans. “Oh my god, what now?”

“It’s important,” Quinn says, leveling them with a look.

Luke raises an eyebrow. “Like, life-or-death important? Or are we talking Quinn-important, which means it’s about the love of your life?”

Jack snorts. “Yeah, do we need to prepare a eulogy?”

Quinn ignores them. “I need you guys to get her to buy a dress.”

Both of them stare at him.

“A dress,” Jack repeats flatly. “You dragged us away from breakfast for that?”

“Not just any dress,” Quinn says, rubbing the back of his neck. He feels stupid saying it out loud, but if there’s anyone who can pull this off without making it suspicious, it’s these two. “She was looking at this one the other day. It’s perfect for when I—” He stops himself before finishing the sentence, clearing his throat.

Luke catches on first. His eyes widen slightly before he grins. “Ohhh. You mean the dress.”

Jack still looks lost. “What—Oh. Ohhh.”

Quinn nods.

“Okay, so you want us to, what? Trick her into buying it?” Jack asks, crossing his arms.

“Not trick her,” Quinn corrects. “Just… steer her in the right direction.”

Luke grins. “You want us to gaslight her into thinking she needs it.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You basically did,” Jack says.

Quinn sighs. “Can you two just do it?”

Luke claps a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Q, we got this. She’ll be buying that dress by the end of the day.”

Jack cracks his knuckles. “Time to be annoying.”

“Just don’t make it obvious,” Quinn warns.

Luke grins. “No promises.”

–

You hadn’t really planned on buying anything today.

The town’s little boutique district is charming, with its cobblestone paths and flower boxes hanging from the windows, but you were mostly browsing—taking in the sights, enjoying the crisp summer air, and, apparently, getting bombarded with very strong opinions from Jack and Luke.

“I’m just saying,” Jack starts, walking beside you with his hands in his pockets, “you’ve been talking about wanting a nice dress for a while.”

“Have I?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

Luke, walking on your other side, nods solemnly. “Oh yeah. All the time. Constantly.”

You snort. “I’m pretty sure I haven’t.”

Jack ignores you. “And look at this!” He gestures dramatically toward one of the boutique windows. “A whole store dedicated to dresses! What are the odds?”

“Crazy,” Luke deadpans.

You give them a suspicious look. “Are you guys okay?”

“We’re great,” Jack says. “But you’d be even better if you had a new dress.”

Luke nods. “The best version of yourself, really.”

You shake your head with a laugh. “What is wrong with you two?”

“Nothing,” Jack says quickly. “We just care about you. And your wardrobe.”

“Especially that one dress you liked the other day,” Luke adds casually. “That was a good one.”

You narrow your eyes. “How do you even know about that?”

Jack elbows Luke. 

He gives you a pained smile, “intuition?” 

Luke sighs dramatically, turning toward you. “Look,, all I’m saying is that you should try it on. No pressure. No commitment. Just try it on and see how you feel.”

“Yeah,” Jack agrees. “Worst case? You hate it, and we all move on with our lives. Best case? You look amazing, and you thank us forever.”

You roll your eyes but, against your better judgment, let them lead you inside. The boutique is small but elegant, with soft lighting and carefully arranged racks of clothing. A sales associate greets you warmly, and before you know it, Luke and Jack are pushing you toward the exact dress they’ve clearly been scheming about.

You sigh, running your fingers over the fabric. It is beautiful.

“Just try it,” Luke urges. “For science.”

“For science,” Jack echoes.

You huff a laugh. “Fine. But if I don’t like it, you both owe me coffee.”

“Deal,” they say in unison.

Ten minutes later, you step out of the dressing room, smoothing your hands over the fabric. The dress fits perfectly, hugging in all the right places, flowing just enough to feel effortless. You glance at your reflection in the boutique mirror, tilting your head slightly.

“Well?” Jack asks, leaning forward eagerly.

Luke grins. “Yup. That’s the one.”

You shake your head, but you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “You guys are the worst.”

“And yet, we just helped you find your new favorite dress,” Jack points out.

You sigh. “Fine. But you’re still buying me coffee.”

Luke claps his hands. “Worth it.”

Meanwhile, back at the lake house, Quinn gets a text.

Luke: Mission accomplished.

He exhales, a slow smile spreading across his face.

Three more days.

Three Days Before

The morning sun spills through the windows of the lake house, casting warm golden hues over the kitchen. You hum softly to yourself as you pour a cup of coffee, the scent of roasted beans filling the air. Ellen is at the stove flipping pancakes while Jim reads the newspaper at the table, occasionally sipping his coffee. Jack and Luke sit across from him, bickering over who gets the last piece of toast.

Quinn stands by the fridge, looking unusually tense as he scrolls through his phone. You don’t think much of it—he’s always been the quiet, deep-in-thought type—but there’s something about the way he keeps glancing at you that makes you pause.

"Morning," you say, leaning against the counter as you take a slow sip of coffee. "What's up?"

Quinn's head snaps up like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. His fingers tighten around his phone, and for a second, he looks almost guilty.

"Uh—nothing. Just checking something." His voice is too quick, too casual, and you narrow your eyes.

Before you can push him further, Ellen calls over her shoulder, "Sweetheart, could you grab the syrup?"

You nod and step toward the pantry, but just as you do, Quinn leans closer to Ellen and whispers something.

You freeze mid-step.

It’s barely audible, just the faintest murmur of his voice, but you catch it. Ellen’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second before she quickly schools her expression into something neutral.

Jim, who’s been mostly uninvolved in the morning chaos, suddenly folds his newspaper with a snap and clears his throat. Jack and Luke immediately stop arguing and sit up straighter, the air shifting ever so slightly.

You narrow your eyes. "Okay, what was that?"

Quinn immediately shakes his head. "What was what?"

"The whispering. The weird glances. Why do you all look like you just got caught committing a crime?"

Jack lets out a bark of nervous laughter. "Pfft, what? No crime here."

Luke elbows him, and he winces. "We were just—uh, talking about, um—"

"The weather," Jim supplies, nodding sagely.

"The weather?" you repeat flatly.

"Yup," Quinn says, grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl and peeling it aggressively like that’ll somehow sell the lie.

You cross your arms, skeptical. "And what, exactly, about the weather required a top-secret family meeting?"

Ellen waves a hand dismissively. "Oh, just—just how lovely it's supposed to be this weekend! Perfect for, um, outdoor activities."

Jack nods. "Yeah, so perfect. Like, suspiciously perfect."

Luke elbows him again.

You squint at them, taking a slow sip of your coffee, watching as they all sit a little too still, looking a little too casual.

Something is definitely going on.

But before you can press further, Quinn suddenly steps forward, wraps an arm around your waist, and presses a kiss to your temple.

"Hey, didn’t you want to go into town today?" His voice is soft, his thumb rubbing soothing circles against your hip.

You blink up at him. "I mean, yeah, but—"

"Perfect," he says quickly. "You should go. Take your time. Enjoy yourself."

Jack and Luke nod in unison. "Yes. Enjoy. Take hours if you need."

Your eyes dart between them. They are terrible liars. But you sigh, deciding to let it go—for now.

"Fine," you say slowly, grabbing your bag. "But if I find out you guys are hiding something from me—"

"You won’t!" they all chorus at once.

You stare for another long beat before shaking your head and heading for the door.

As soon as it closes behind you, Quinn lets out a breath, running a hand through his hair.

Luke whistles. "That was way too close."

Jim chuckles. "You boys need to step up your game. She's sharp."

Quinn groans, rubbing his face. "I know. And we still have two more days of this."

Jack claps a hand on his shoulder. "Good luck, bud. You're gonna need it.

Two Days Before 

The lake stretches out before you, calm and glassy under the moonlight. It’s late—too late to still be outside, but the warmth of summer lingers in the air, and neither of you wants to go in just yet.

You sit beside Quinn on the dock, your legs dangling over the edge, bare feet skimming the cool water. The night is quiet, save for the occasional chirp of crickets and the distant rustling of trees.

Quinn hasn’t said much in the last few minutes.

He sits close—so close that your shoulders press together, his warmth seeping into you. His hand is resting between you, his fingers twitching like he wants to reach for you but is too lost in thought to do it.

You nudge him gently. "Penny for your thoughts?"

He exhales, a soft, slow sound. "Just thinking."

You tilt your head, watching him. His profile is illuminated by the glow of the moon, sharp angles softened by the night. His jaw flexes, and his fingers tighten slightly against the dock.

"About what?"

He hesitates, then turns to you. "The future."

Your chest tightens, a warmth blooming there. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." His voice is quiet, thoughtful. "I was just thinking about... where we'll be, years from now." He swallows, his throat bobbing. "What it'll look like."

You smile, leaning into him. "And? What does it look like?"

He glances down at his hands. "Us," he says simply. "Still together. Maybe a house. Maybe a dog." His lips twitch. "You always talk about wanting a golden retriever."

Your heart stutters.

"You actually listen when I say that?"

His brow furrows. "Of course I do."

There’s something so earnest about the way he says it—so completely sure.

You take his hand in yours, threading your fingers together. "I like that version of the future," you say softly.

Quinn looks at you then, his eyes dark and unreadable, something heavy sitting behind them. For a second, you think he’s about to say something—something big.

But instead, he squeezes your hand.

"Me too."

He presses a lingering kiss to your knuckles, then rests his forehead against yours.

You close your eyes, breathing him in, feeling the steady thump-thump-thump of his heart.

Neither of you says anything else.

But Quinn’s already made up his mind.

Tomorrow, he finds the perfect spot.

And in two days, he asks you to be his forever.

One Day Before 

The lake stretches endlessly before you, a shimmering expanse of deep blue beneath the warmth of the afternoon sun. A gentle breeze tugs at your hair, and the rhythmic rocking of the boat lulls you into a peaceful state. The water is calm, only disturbed by the occasional ripple from a passing jet ski or the soft lapping against the side of the boat.

You inhale deeply, letting the fresh air fill your lungs as you lean back against the cushioned seat. The warmth of the sun kisses your skin, and for the first time in a long while, you feel like time has slowed down.

Jim sits at the helm, hands steady on the wheel as he navigates through the open water. His expression is relaxed, a rare sight considering the chaos that usually follows whenever all three of his boys are together.

Ellen sits beside you, sunglasses perched on her nose, a soft smile on her lips as she watches the water shimmer.

“This is nice, isn’t it?” she muses, her voice light with contentment.

You nod, shifting slightly to soak in more of the sun. “Yeah, it really is.”

It’s not often that you get moments like this—just the three of you. Usually, Jack and Luke are wreaking havoc, Quinn is rolling his eyes fondly at their antics, and everything is a blur of chirps and laughter. But today is quiet. Peaceful.

You glance around the boat, taking in the emptiness where Quinn should be.

Your chest tightens slightly.

This morning, when you asked him if he was coming, he had been vague—mumbling something about needing to run an errand and promising he’d see you later. You hadn’t pushed, but now, with the afternoon stretching on without him, you can’t shake the feeling that something is off.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Ellen asks gently, tilting her head toward you.

You blink, realizing you had been staring at the empty seat beside you. Forcing a smile, you nod. “Yeah, just thinking.”

Ellen hums knowingly. “Quinn will be back soon, don’t worry. He’s probably just making sure whatever he’s doing is absolutely perfect.”

Jim chuckles from the driver’s seat. “Sounds about right.”

You frown slightly, narrowing your eyes. “Do you guys know something I don’t?”

Ellen and Jim exchange a quick glance, but Ellen’s smile doesn’t waver.

“Oh, honey,” she says, reaching over to pat your hand. “We always know something you don’t.”

You roll your eyes, laughing despite yourself.

The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur of warmth and comfort. You soak up every moment—the way the sun reflects off the water like scattered diamonds, the sound of Jim’s easy laughter, the way Ellen insists on reapplying sunscreen to your shoulders even though you swear you’re fine.

And for a little while, you let yourself forget the strange feeling in your chest.

Meanwhile, deep in the woods, Quinn is on a mission.

Your absence is a weight he feels in his chest, but he knows this is worth it.

His boots crunch against the forest floor as he makes his way through the secluded clearing he stumbled upon earlier. The air smells like pine and fresh earth, the quiet only disturbed by the rustling of leaves in the wind.

It’s perfect. Tucked away from the main trails, surrounded by towering trees, with a small opening where the lake peeks through.

This is it.

Carefully, he unrolls the string of photos he printed last week, each one capturing a frozen moment in time—the two of you at your first hockey game together, laughing with noses pressed close; a blurry snapshot of you mid-laugh, taken when you weren’t looking; a quiet moment in bed, tangled in the sheets with sunlight painting your skin.

Every single one tells your story.

His hands shake slightly as he fastens them to the branches, adjusting them until they drape just right.

“Dude, this is insanely romantic,” Jack mutters behind him.

Quinn steps back, hands on his hips as he surveys the clearing. The photos sway gently in the breeze, catching the fading sunlight. Everything is almost perfect.

Except for Jack, who is standing in the middle of the setup like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“This is so weird,” Jack complains, shifting uncomfortably. “I don’t know why I have to be her.”

Quinn sighs, rubbing his temples. “Because I need to make sure everything looks right, and you’re the closest to her height.”

“That’s actually so offensive,” Jack deadpans. “I don’t even know how, but it is.”

Luke snorts from behind the camera. “Just shut up and stand there, man. You’re ruining the vision.”

Jack groans dramatically but doesn’t move. “You owe me for this, dude. Big time.”

Quinn ignores him, stepping closer to adjust the positioning. He takes a deep breath, trying to picture you standing there instead of his little brother, who is doing a horrible job of being still.

“This is where I’ll kneel,” Quinn murmurs, mostly to himself. He drops down, testing the angle, the feel of the moment. His heart races, imagining the way you’ll look—eyes wide, lips parted in surprise, the way your breath will hitch right before you say yes.

Jack stares down at him, unimpressed. “I feel like I should be flattered, but mostly I feel like an idiot.”

Quinn huffs, looking up at him. “Can you at least pretend to be in love with me?”

Jack stares blankly for a second before bursting out laughing. “Dude. Dude. I cannot take this seriously.” He turns to Luke, who’s adjusting the camera settings. “Are you getting this? The absolute desperation in his eyes?”

Luke barely glances up. “You’re making it worse.”

“I’m making this worse?” Jack gestures at the setup. “Quinn is professing his undying love to me right now, and I’M the problem?”

Quinn groans, running a hand over his face. “Just shut up and look moved or something.”

Jack schools his expression into something vaguely serious and stares dramatically into the distance. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he says, voice overly soft. “We’ve been through so much together.”

Luke nearly drops the camera laughing. “Oh my god,” he wheezes.

Quinn pinches the bridge of his nose. “I hate both of you.”

Jack smirks, but he does settle down a little, standing a bit more still as Quinn makes the final adjustments.

After a few minutes of adjusting the lighting and the placement of the photos, Luke finally lifts the camera. “Alright, let’s get a test shot.”

Jack sighs dramatically but stays put. Quinn watches as Luke moves around, snapping photos from different angles. He frowns slightly, tilting the camera to check the preview.

“It looks good,” Luke says slowly, adjusting the focus. “But I think we need—Jack, stop standing like that.”

Jack scoffs. “Like what?”

“Like a dude who is about to ask another dude to prom,” Luke deadpans. “You look so uncomfortable.”

Jack throws his arms out. “Because I am uncomfortable! I am literally standing in the middle of a fake proposal, playing the role of my brother’s girlfriend.”

Quinn shakes his head. “Fine. Just—stand normal.”

Jack exhales sharply but follows instructions, his posture finally settling into something less stiff.

Luke snaps a few more photos before nodding. “Okay, that’s it. That’s the shot.”

Quinn steps back, taking in the clearing one last time. The photos, the lighting, the atmosphere—it’s all exactly how he pictured it. His heart pounds as he exhales, the reality of it hitting him all at once.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, you will be standing here.

Tomorrow, you will be the one in front of him when he kneels.

And tomorrow, you will say yes.

Jack claps him on the back, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Alright, Romeo. Can we go now? I have literally never felt more single in my life.”

Quinn rolls his eyes, but there’s a fondness behind it. “Yeah, we’re done.”

Luke stretches, shoving the camera back into his bag. “You better make this the best proposal of all time, bro. Because if we went through all of this for nothing—”

Quinn grins, confidence settling in his chest. “She’s gonna love it.”

Jack sighs dramatically. “You owe us.”

Quinn just laughs, already imagining how perfect tomorrow will be.

That night, you’re curled up in bed when Quinn finally slips into the room. The warmth of his body presses against yours as he slides beneath the covers, pulling you into his arms.

“You have fun today?” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“Mmm,” you hum, half-asleep. “Missed you.”

His chest tightens.

He buries his face in your hair, arms tightening around you. “Missed you too.”

You sigh softly, relaxing into him.

Quinn stays awake long after you drift off, heart thudding with anticipation.

One more night.

Tomorrow, everything changes.

Proposal Day

The morning sun filters through the kitchen windows, casting a golden glow over the lake house. The scent of fresh coffee lingers in the air as you lean against the counter, watching the Hughes family settle into their usual breakfast chaos.

Jack is the first to steal the last piece of toast off Luke’s plate, and Luke retaliates by flicking a grape at his forehead. Quinn sighs, stirring his coffee like he’s debating whether it’s worth intervening. Ellen is at the stove, flipping pancakes with practiced ease, while Jim nurses his coffee at the table, reading something on his phone.

Ellen turns toward you with a smile. “I was thinking,” she starts, “since everyone’s here, we should do a nice family dinner tonight.”

Luke perks up. “Ooh, like a fancy dinner? Do I have to wear a button-up?”

“Yes,” Ellen says firmly.

Jack groans dramatically. “Can I at least wear my nice hoodie?”

Jim barely looks up. “No.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you sip your coffee. “A dinner sounds nice.”

Ellen nods. “Good, because I already bought all the stuff.”

Quinn finally speaks, glancing at you. “You should wear that dress you got.”

You arch an eyebrow. “The one you definitely weren’t scheming to get me to buy?”

Jack and Luke both snicker, and Quinn glares at them before turning back to you, feigning innocence. “What? I just think you’d look really nice in it.”

Luke leans in conspiratorially. “You should do it. Mostly because if you don’t, Quinn will spend the entire dinner sulking and staring at you like a sad puppy.”

You roll your eyes, but a smile tugs at your lips. “Well, we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

Jack smirks. “Nope. That’s how we end up with emo Quinn, and nobody wants that.”

Quinn groans. “I hate all of you.”

Ellen hides a smile as she flips another pancake. “You love them,” she corrects.

Quinn sighs, shooting you a hopeful glance. “So, the dress?”

You shake your head, amused. “Fine. But if I do, Luke and Jack owe me dessert.”

Luke claps a hand over his heart. “Done.”

Jack nods. “Easiest deal of my life.”

Quinn smiles to himself, satisfied. One step closer.

Dinner starts out promising enough. The table is set, the food looks amazing, and the sunset paints the lake in warm hues. It should be perfect.

And then… things start to go sideways.

First, Luke—being Luke—tries to help bring the dishes to the table and nearly drops the salad bowl. In his panic to save it, he elbows Jack, who’s carrying a basket of rolls. The bread goes flying, one roll landing directly in Jim’s drink.

“Nice,” Jim mutters, plucking it out with a sigh.

Ellen shakes her head, clearly unimpressed but used to this kind of chaos. “Can we go one meal without something ending up on the floor?”

Jack, unfazed, shrugs. “Technically, it landed in Dad’s glass.”

You try to hold back a laugh as Quinn pulls out a chair for you, but the moment you sit, you realize something is… off. The seat wobbles, just enough to be noticeable, and before you can react, one of the legs gives way entirely.

“Shit—”

You barely manage to catch yourself before fully hitting the ground. Quinn moves fast, steadying you before you can completely fall, but the damage is done. Luke is doubled over laughing, and Jack is wheezing so hard he can’t breathe.

“I—” Jack tries, but he’s laughing too hard to finish. “I swear—we didn’t—touch—that chair—”

Quinn glares at them before looking at you. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you say, face burning as you straighten up. “Just my pride taking a hit.”

Ellen sighs. “That chair was wobbly this morning. I told you boys to fix it.”

Jack wipes a tear from his eye. “Well, now we know it was definitely broken.”

Dinner resumes, and for a few blessed minutes, everything is normal. The conversation flows, the food is delicious, and you almost forget about the earlier chaos.

Until Luke, in all his wisdom, decides he needs more steak sauce. He reaches across the table, miscalculating just how close his elbow is to your glass of wine.

The second the glass tips, it’s over.

Red wine splashes everywhere—your dress, the table, Quinn’s sleeve.

“Oh my God,” you exclaim, pushing back from the table as the cold liquid soaks into the fabric.

Luke freezes. “Oh—oh, shit. Oh, no—”

Ellen is already up, grabbing napkins. “Luke.” Her voice is the kind of exasperated that only comes from years of dealing with sons who can’t sit still. “Seriously?”

“I didn’t mean to!” Luke looks at you with pure panic. “I—I can fix this—”

Jack leans back, shaking his head. “Man, you just ruined her dress.”

“I know!” Luke groans, looking like he genuinely feels terrible. “I’ll—uh—I’ll pay for the dry cleaning.”

Quinn, who’s been silent through all of this, takes one look at you and then turns to Luke with the calmest voice imaginable.

“Get up.”

Luke blinks. “What?”

“Get. Up.”

There’s a long pause before Luke, sensing the very real possibility of Quinn throwing him into the lake, slowly pushes his chair back and stands.

Quinn doesn’t hesitate—he grabs Luke’s napkin and dabs at your dress, his brows furrowed in frustration. “I told you not to sit next to her.”

Luke throws his hands up. “How is this my fault?!”

Ellen sighs again. “Alright, alright, it’s just a little wine.” She turns to you. “Honey, let’s go see if we can salvage your dress.”

You follow her inside, but despite her best efforts, the stain refuses to come out.

You sigh, looking at Ellen through the mirror. “Ellen, I think it’s unsalvageable.”

She looks up at you, guilt evident on her face. “I’m so sorry, honey.”

You shake your head with a small smile. “It’s fine, really.”

When you return downstairs, Luke looks like a kicked puppy, eyes glued to the floor. Quinn scans your dress, his jaw tightening.

“Goddammit, Luke,” Quinn mutters.

You step beside him, nudging Luke lightly with your foot. “It’s fine, really,” you say softly.

Quinn exhales, rubbing his jaw before looking at you. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk.”

You blink at him. “Right now?”

“Yeah,” he says, his voice quieter now, more certain. “Right now.”

You hesitate, then nod. “Okay.”

The night air is crisp, carrying the scent of pine and the lingering warmth of the lake. The sound of crickets hums in the background as you and Quinn walk in comfortable silence, his fingers laced through yours. The chaos of dinner fades into the background, replaced by the rhythmic crunch of gravel beneath your feet.

“You okay?” you ask softly, glancing up at him.

Quinn exhales through his nose, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. Just… today didn’t go exactly how I planned.”

You squeeze his hand. “You had a plan?”

His smile grows slightly. “Believe it or not, yeah. Kind of.”

You smirk. “Well, that was your first mistake.”

He huffs a quiet laugh. “Tell me about it.”

You keep walking, but the farther you go, the more familiar the path becomes. It’s only when the trees thin, revealing a quiet clearing, that you realize where he’s leading you. Your steps slow as you take it in.

Strung between the branches, illuminated by the soft glow of the moon and the fairy lights Quinn must have set up earlier, are dozens of photos—memories captured and preserved in time.

Your breath catches as you step forward, reaching out to gently touch one of them. It’s a picture from your first hockey game together, noses nearly pressed together as you grinned at the camera. Another of you mid-laugh, eyes crinkled with joy. One from a lazy morning in bed, sunlight spilling across your tangled limbs.

Every single one tells your story.

You turn back to Quinn, your chest tight with emotion. “You did all this?”

He nods, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. I—I wanted you to see what I see. Every time I look at you, it’s just… it’s all of this. Every moment, every memory, everything that makes us, us.”

Your eyes burn with unshed tears.

“I wanted everything to be perfect,” he continues, voice quiet but steady. “I had this whole idea in my head—this big, perfect moment. The dinner, the dress, the way tonight was supposed to go.” He shakes his head, laughing under his breath. “And then Luke knocked wine all over you, and Jack wouldn’t stop chirping, and everything kind of fell apart.”

You smile, tilting your head. “Sounds about right.”

Quinn looks at you, his blue eyes searching yours. “Yeah. But then I realized… this is perfect.” He lets out a small, breathy laugh, almost like he’s realizing it in real time. “The chaos, the interruptions, the fact that nothing ever goes exactly how we plan it. That’s us. That’s our life.”

Your breath catches slightly.

He takes a deep breath, then lets go of one of your hands, reaching into his pocket. And suddenly, he’s kneeling before you, a small velvet box in his palm, slightly illuminated by the moonlight.

“I don’t need the perfect moment,” he says, looking up at you. “I just need you.”

Your heart pounds, your vision blurring as you try to take in everything at once—the way he’s looking at you, the way his fingers tremble just slightly around the box, the way the entire world feels like it’s tilting on its axis.

“Marry me?” he asks, voice soft but sure.

You let out a shaky breath, a laugh breaking through the tears already forming in your eyes. “Quinn, of course I’ll marry you.”

A breath of relief escapes him before he grins—grins in that rare, open way he only does when he’s truly happy. He stands quickly, slipping the ring onto your finger before wrapping his arms around you, holding you close.

You bury your face in his shoulder, laughing through your tears. “God, I love you.”

His grip tightens around you, his voice warm against your ear. “Love you more.”

By the time you and Quinn make it back, hand in hand, the Hughes family is waiting—Jack and Luke perched on the couch, Jim leaning against the counter, and Ellen practically bouncing in place.

Jack spots the ring first. “Oh my god—”

Ellen claps her hands together, her eyes shining. “You said yes?”

You hold up your hand, and the room erupts.

Jack groans dramatically, flopping back onto the couch. “I can’t believe this. Quinn won at life.”

Jim claps Quinn on the shoulder with a proud nod, and Ellen pulls you into a tight hug, murmuring how happy she is for you both.

Luke hangs back, hands shoved in his pockets, his eyes darting toward you before dropping to the floor. His face is tight, like he’s been debating something in his head.

You don’t give him the chance to overthink it. Without a word, you step toward him and wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug.

Luke stiffens in surprise before slowly relaxing, exhaling a breath. “I—I really didn’t mean to ruin your dress,” he mumbles, voice small.

You smile against his shoulder. “I know, Luke. It’s just a dress.”

He hesitates before hugging you back, his grip a little tight, like he’s still worried about the whole thing. “I felt really bad.”

You pull back just enough to look at him. “Well, you can make it up to me by giving a really good speech at the wedding.”

His eyes widen. “Wait—I can do a speech?”

Quinn sighs, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. “I never said that.”

Luke smirks. “You didn’t have to.”

Jack groans. “Oh god, this is gonna be unbearable.”

Quinn shakes his head, pulling you back to his side. “I should’ve proposed in private,” he mutters under his breath.

You laugh, squeezing his hand. “Nah. This is perfect.”

And as the Hughes family falls into their usual rhythm of chirps and laughter, as Quinn’s hand tightens around yours, you know that nothing—no chaos, no spilled wine, no wobbly chairs—could have made this moment any better.

beachy’s notes: hello babes please please, please send me fic requests

[libraford]

Like... when I'm pointing out that a recipe image is AI, the purpose is not to shame them for posting AI, because even people who are familiar with the tells will sometimes fall for it.

I want you to have reasonable expectations about your food.

Because when I see this:

I remember this:

Which was a full decade prior to AI-based misinformation, and just how many people were pissed off that the Pinterest post misled them.

And even more-working in a craft store during the Pinterest heyday:

"We want to make this." Shows a picture of:

-a marimo moss ball terrarium in a light bulb.

-a resin-treated natural wooden shelf with glow in the dark resin in the cracks

-a really complex diorama made using museum grade resin and hand-painted figures by a miniatures artist

...to name a few.

"I'm sorry, but we do not carry (unfinished wood pieces, light reactive resin powders, live marimo moss balls, museum grade resin). Is there a tutorial attached with a materials list? No? I'm sorry, we don't have those. You can make something like this with what we have, but it won't turn out the same as in the photo. You want it exactly like the photo? I'm sorry, we can't special order these items, they're not featured on our list of vendors. I'm sorry, no, I don't know where to get them. Oh, you want me to walk you through the steps of making it since there's no tutorial? I can really only guess, but it looks like... oh, you want someone who knows for sure? I'm sorry, but no one here is terribly familiar with the process. You might see if you can reverse image search and find the source of the image. You say you want to speak to my manager? You say I'm being rude to you? You say I should be going out of my way to make you happy? You say you'll leave a 1 star review?..."

Etc.

If you ask a bartender to make you the 'celestial milkshake' and show them the photo, they are going to go through the same course that I just went through, but with mixology. They are going to explain that cotton candy dissolves when put in liquid, that edible glitter doesn't look like that, that the liquers listed in the recipe don't interact well, and that the image you have given them is essentially concept art by someone who has never even worn an apron.

Having reasonable expectations for your food is not by any means shaming you for falling for AI. It is saving you the embarrassment and them the frustration.

[blissfullyecho]

Become Your Dream Girl in 2025

Defining your dream girl persona

The first step into becoming your dream girl is to have a clear picture of her in your mind. Imagine her life in detail; her aesthetic, her habits, and even her energy. This is the time to get specific.

Visualization Exercise: Sit in a quiet space, close your eyes, and visualize your dream girl persona. How does she dress? What places does she visit? What are her priorities and goals? Let yourself feel her confidence, luxury, and elegance.

Create a Vision Board: Gather photos, quotes, fabrics, and colors that represent this version of you. A physical board can go in your room or closet. It can even be a mini collage you can put on your driver's side mirror in your car. The goal is to see your dream girl's life as real and achievable.

Setting New Year Goals

Your dream girl's life needs structure, so let's break down goals into categories and map out the steps to make it happen.

Categorize Your Goals: List your goals under personal growth, style & beauty, health & wellness, and career & financial. For example, under "Health & Wellness", you might set a goal to try Pilates or to cook more at home.

Monthly Check-Ins: As you go through the year, check in with your goals to celebrate your wins, and adjust as needed. This keeps your transformation on track.

Mindset Makeover

Confidence & Self-Worth

Your dream girl is confident, magnetic, and knows her worth. Let's build those habits and thoughts that help you embody that energy daily.

Positive Affirmations: Every time you look in the mirror, say things like "I am worth everything good that can happen to me" or any affirmation that you feel suits you best.

Confidence Rituals: Small, daily actions add up to huge shifts in confidence. Make it a habit to dress up on casual days, speak kindly to yourself, and embrace good posture.

Let Go of Insecurities: Identify any insecurities and practice reframing them. Instead of "I wish I was more confident", say "I am becoming more confident every day". Over time, you'll notice how these subtle shifts impact your self-worth.

Mindset for Success

Your dream girl is resilient and always growing, so let's make success part of your mindset.

Growth Mindset: View challenges as chances to learn, whether it's a career move, a new hobby, or even a social situation.

Visualizing Success: Each morning, spend a few minutes visualizing yourself living your dream life. This will keep you focused and motivated.

Morning & Evening Routines: Start each day with intention by setting small goals and expressing gratitude. At night, reflect on the day and celebrate your wins; even the small ones.

Social Life & Relationships

Social confidence comes from feeling at ease in your own skin.

Elegant Etiquette: Show appreciation with thank you notes, and make an effort to remember names. The vibe for 2025 is to go for traditional, rather than modern. Think classic early 1920's-1950's Hollywood.

Curate Your Circle: Surround yourself with supportive, inspiring friends who uplift you. Leave the ones who don't elevate themselves or try to keep you behind.

Networking Lifestyle: Turn social gatherings into chances to meet like-minded people and to elevate your circle.

(Dating) Standards First: Don't settle; know what you deserve in a partner and communicate it confidently.

(Dating) Playful Energy: Be confident, flirty, and assertive (with yourself, not them). Stay in your feminine energy and let them earn your time and attention.

(Dating) Relationship Goals: Keep dates special and playful. Dress up, go out, and enjoy yourself.

Finances & Career Goals

Your dream girl values luxury, but also financial security. Your career is part of your dream girl identity, so elevate it.

Budgeting: Set aside money for luxuries and self-investment, but keep savings in mind.

Multiple Income Streams: Consider side hustles that align with your lifestyle.

Savings Goals: Whether it's for a designer bag, a trip, or just building wealth, make sure your goals are concrete.

Luxury Workspace: Make your workspace a vibe with candles, flowers, and chic decor.

Network for Success: Connect with mentors and people who inspire you.

Grow with Intention: Set milestones in your career or business, and keep pushing for the next level.

Health & Wellness

Your body is the vessel of your dream girl, so let's treat it with love and care. Mental clarity and peace are essential for dream girl energy; so let's focus on overall wellness this year.

Exercise: Try Pilates or Barre classes for a toned, elegant look. If that's not your thing, find workouts that create your dream body.

Healthy Eating: Focus on whole foods, lots of veggies, and drink tons of water.

Weekly Reset: Plan a mini detox day where you relax, hydrate, and reset for the week.

Mindfulness Practice: Try a short meditation or breathing exercise every morning.

Stress Relief: Whether it's a quick walk, journaling, or a creative outlet, find a stress relief that's all you.

Boundaries: Say no when needed, and make sure your energy is protected.

Beauty & Style Upgrade

First, a dream girl has that glow, and it all starts with a skincare routine that feels luxurious. You also need to find a style that captures your dream girl vibe, and commit to curating it. Then, you need to develop habits that will help you better your appearance.

Simple Skincare Routine (For Starters): Start with a cleanser for your skin type, followed by a hydrating toner, a serum (like Vitamin C for brightness), moisturizer, and SPF.

Luxury Treatments: Invest in facials or try gentle at-home treatments like dermaplaning once a month for an extra glow.

Nightly Routine: Keep your skin hydrated at night with a heavier moisturizer or an overnight mask.

Personal Style Icons: Think of someone like Serena van der Woodsen from Gossip Girl or a high-fashion model off-duty.

Curating Your Wardrobe: Focus on high-quality staples in neutral tones, like blazers, silky blouses, and tailored bottoms. Invest in timeless pieces that make you feel like a billion dollars.

Signature Look: A dream girl has her thing, whether it's an accessory, a makeup look, or a scent. Find what makes you feel like you and stick with it.

Self-Care Rituals: Prioritize manicures and pedicures, hair masks, and bubble baths. Set aside time every week to pamper yourself.

Polished Look: Even on your most casual days, aim to look put together.

Signature Hair & Makeup: Pick a go-to glam look that embodies your dream girl; maybe that's glossy lips and loose waves (for example).

Lifestyle & Daily Habits

Your routine should feel luxurious yet practical, setting the tone for each day. Small daily habits can transform how you feel and present yourself.

Weekly Pamper Sessions: Set aside Sunday evenings for facials, skincare, and champagne baths! (Be careful and make sure you're of legal drinking age)

Journaling and Reflection: Each morning, write down 3 things you're grateful for and 3 intentions for the day.

Goal Reviews: Every Sunday, celebrate your wins and see if any goals need a refresh.

The Basic Routine: Make your bed, wake up early, and put on an outfit that feels like you.

Energy-Boosting Habits: A quick stretch, a healthy breakfast, and a moment of quiet can make a huge difference.

Wind-Down Ritual: At night, unwind with tea, a bubble bath, or a short meditation to recharge for tomorrow.

Indulge a Little: Get a weekly coffee treat or a luxurious candle that makes your space feel cozy.

Luxury Experiences: Plan for a special outing every month, like a fancy dinner or spa day.

Signature Scents and Cocktails: Find your go-to perfume and a signature drink like a dirty martini or a bubbly glass of champagne.

Conclusion:

Becoming your dream girl is a journey; one that's glamorous, fulfilling, and full of growth. Each step brings you closer to living the life you deserve.

[amaranthineghost]

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🐟 ꒱ my american lover ( logan sargeant. )

logan sargeant x aussie!reader

in which a series of instagram posts causes the internet to think you're oscar's girlfriend

authors note: motivation these days is like trying to find water in a desert TvT doesn't help that this deleted the first time i tried to post it

ynusername

liked by oscarpiastri and 4,028 others

ynusername life lately

view all 302 comments

user HELP THE OSCAR PICTURE?

user this was not on my 2024 bingo card

⤷ user it was not on mine either what 😭😭😭

user since when does yn know about oscar piastri?

⤷ user and since when was he in her likes???

oscarpiastri where did you even get that photo 🥲

⤷ ynusername mumma piastri has a soft spot for me 😊

⤷ oscarpiastri ah

user omg she knows oscar's mom too

user is this a soft launch???

⤷ user using oscar's photos from when he was a kid? i sure hope not 😭

⤷ user okay yeah, that'd be a little bit awkward, but why else would she post a picture of him in her photo dump

user twitter is gonna go crazy

⤷ user i can already see the threads

user does no one know that they're friends?

⤷ user i thought this was common knowledge atp because he has appeared in her previous posts...

⤷ user right, there's photos of them as kids karting together

user ynscar 🙏

⤷ user i found my people

user the ynscar rumors starting up again is wild

⤷ user well they never denied anything

⤷ user ...

⤷ user are you on something?

ynusername

liked by lilymhe and 1,937 others

ynusername what a view (the city, not oscar)

view all 103 comments

user stop, she's so pretty...and he's there

lilymhe we need to hang out and take pictures! the boys will find something to entertain themselves 😘

⤷ ynusername asap! 🙏🏻 they see each other every day, whats another?

⤷ lilymhe exactly! 😊

⤷ alex_albon what am i being signed up for?

user oh my god, lily and yn planning a hangout with their boyfriends? so its confirmed?

⤷ user AND THEY SEE EACH OTHER EVERY DAY??? GOTTA BE!!!

oscarpiastri is this just your new thing to post random photos of me?

⤷ ynusername yeah pretty much

⤷ oscarpiastri great thanks

⤷ ynusername anytime 🙂‍↕️

user of all the photos of oscar she could've chosen, she used this one

⤷ oscarpiastri right

⤷ user OMG OSCAR ILY!!!

user am i the only one who doesn't believe the ynscar rumors?

⤷ user you aren't because it just doesn't make sense

⤷ user right like just because she started putting memes of him in her posts doesn't mean they are outright dating

logansargeant the view looks great!

⤷ ynusername its so gorjos! (you're not talking about oscar, right?)

⤷ logansargeant gorgeous, babe, and no, of course not (yeah, i might be)

⤷ ynusername (oscar isn't the view here!)

⤷ logansargeant (says who) (and why are we talking in parentheses)

⤷ ynusername (i don't know) (why are you talking in parentheses?)

⤷ logansargeant (i don't know, that's why i asked you)

⤷ ynusername (well i don't know either)

⤷ logansargeant (you've said)

⤷ user (what's going on?) (why did he call her babe???)

⤷ user (why are logan and yn talking?) (not on my 2024 bingo card)

⤷ user (well they both know oscar)

⤷ user (but he called her babe??)

user help all the replies to their comments being in parentheses as well 😭😭😭

user am i the only one who prefers yngan to ynscar

⤷ user nope!

⤷ user i love them so much, but it's probably unlikely and we don't see much interaction from them

ynusername

liked by oscarpiastri and 3,408 others

ynusername pov you're max verstappen at miami and you look in your mirrors

view all 231 comments

user oh my god

user im speechless

user the soft launch with the meme of oscar was not on my list of things happening this season 😭

bsfusername you know you're never beating the rumors

⤷ ynusername sadly 😓😓😓

⤷ bsfusername okay but when was this tho

⤷ ynusername wdym 😋

⤷ bsfusername don't gaslight me

⤷ ynusername what's gaslighting???

⤷ bsfusername bitch.

⤷ user rumors? such as the ynscar rumors?

user logan in the likes?

⤷ user hes BEEN in the likes for a hot sc, you just couldn't see him lurking

oscarpiastri you're not coming to the next race

⤷ ynusername WHY NOT??? IM YOUR BIGGEST SUPPORT 🙏🏻

⤷ oscarpiastri support your boyfriend

❤️ by author + logansargeant

⤷ ynusername SHHHH!!!

user wait so oscar isn't her boyfriend?

user anyone see logan in the likes???

⤷ user gotta support the homie's girlfriend

⤷ user gotta

⤷ user they aren't dating 😭

user okay, but do we know FOR SURE oscar and yn are dating? they just seem like really close friends...?

⤷ user SOMEONE GETS IT

user real ones know that oscar and yn are childhood friends

ynusername has posted a story!

[caption: guys look at my uber driver 😢]

view all story replies

user PLEASE RESPOND TO THE RUMORS

user 1. you're dating oscar a. true b. false

user he doesn't even have the steering wheel 😭

ynusername 🤫

user oh my god im gonna faint, tell oscar and logan i love them

oscarpiastri you had the wheel

ynusername stupid, american cars amiright 🤣

oscarpiastri sure

ynusername okay no need for the attitude mr. im a formula 1 driver and am too cool for my BEST FRIEND IN THE ENTIRE WORLD!

oscarpiastri go bother your BOYFRIEND

ynusername okay

ynusername ...

ynusername you're supposed to feel bad

oscarpiastri 😐😑😐

ynusername

liked logansargeant and 7,078 others

ynusername my american boy <3

view all 227 comments

user the random middle of the day hard launch

⤷ user but im not complaining

logansargeant my kangaroo <3

⤷ ynusername EXCUSE ME???

⤷ logansargeant 😊

⤷ ynusername okay american eagle

oscarpiastri finally putting an end to the rumours i see

⤷ ynusername well you weren't going to do it so someone had to

⤷ oscarpiastri i thought it was common knowledge that i had a girlfriend that wasn't you

⤷ ynusername osc...im gonna hold your hand when i tell you this

⤷ oscarpiastri dont touch me

user the sass from oscar 😭😭

⤷ user i know right😭🫣

logansargeant

liked by ynusername and 143,203 others

logansargeant i love my aussie side

view all 1,047 comments

user ON MY CELLULAR DEVICE???

oscarpiastri i thought i was your aussie side mate

⤷ logansargeant oh no, you are dw

⤷ ynusername probably why he put a picture of oscar in the hard launch

⤷ logansargeant you put one in the soft launch

⤷ ynusername fair point

user i was not expecting this (i was indeed expecting it)

—

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proofread by @foreveralbon <333

[https-lvesick]

CAUGHT ON CAMERA — starring f!reader x na jaemin (ft. jeno and haechan, the perverts)

jeno and haechan know they can always count on their best friend, jaemin, and that's why they borrow his camera for a project. they just didn't expect to get the wrong camera... and enjoy every second of it.

content 𖹭 jaem!big dick, sex tape (size diff, breeding, stomach bulge, fingering, slight nipple sucking, m!oral + cum eating), m!masturbation

notes 𖹭 another big thanks for my baby @sinisxtea for proofreading this!

it wasn't unusual to see na jaemin walking around the campus carrying a camera and photographing everything he found cool. the devoted photography student had an unique artistic view, in his mind, anything could be turned into art. ordinary objects, situations and even some students were his objects of art, but there was only one thing, precious enough to worth his devotion: you. jaemin's object of adoration. he was so committed to you and to show the beauty of every single thing you'd do, he bought a camera exclusively for you.

that camera was special. It could only support videos and photos of you. you could be doing anything. playing with stray cats, eating, painting your nails, putting on some makeup, but his favourite moments were the intimate ones.

jaemin just... he couldn't handle your preciousness. in every aspect, he felt the need, the urge to capture and keep your beauty. especially when you put on a little show just to show him your new lingerie set. or maybe when you were choking with his cock down your throat, your makeup smudged all over your face. fuck... he could list every video that the camera had ever captured.

and knowing how committed, na jaemin, a third-year photography student, was to his major, donghyeok, his roommate, thought he could borrow one of his cameras for a project.

“did you even ask him for it, you dumbass? what if he took his camera with him?” jeno comments, leaning on the door frame, watching his friend search for one of the most valuable items for jaemin.

“wasn't he just driving his girl home? why does he need a camera for that?” the younger cusses, messing with jaemin's drawer.

“sure, but you know how in love he is and how he just keeps anything she does.” jeno rolls his eyes, almost giving up on convincing his friend to find an object he didn't even ask permission to use.

“finally!” donghyeok laid his eyes on something deep in the closet. he takes the camera and closes the doors.

“i still think that's the worst idea you've ever had. what if jaemin sees a picture of you there? especially if it's on the camera that, again, was deep in his closet.” jeno emphasizes his last words, trying to knock some sense into his friend, but knowing he wouldn't listen, he just adds: “at least check to see if it's charged.”

“that's what i'm trying to do...” donghyeok says focused. the two guys were already sitting in the corner of jaemin's bed. he turned the camera on and you are the first thing they saw, wearing a flowy light blue dress. jaemin and you were on a date and you were showing how to make your boyfriend's favourite sandwich. “how can someone be so pretty...” he murmurs, sighing.

“i don't know...” jeno says, letting himself get lost at the sound of your voice and how your beaming smile could lighten up his whole day. honestly, they can get where all of jaemin's adoration comes from. if he had a girlfriend like you, he'd also keep every single moment to himself. then he realized what he was thinking. “but she's our best friend's girlfriend, right? the camera is fully charged, we can see it, then c'mon.” he stands up, but donghyeok immediately pulls him to sit again.

“c'mon jen, we're already here. this might be the camera he dedicated to her. don't you wanna see more of this... damn sculpture? you sure?” the younger lee skips some photos and videos, stopping at a video where you're wearing a bikini. you were laughing with jaemin while taking off your sundress, talking about going to the water. the focus goes all to your ass, while you walk to the water and they can hear jaemin's mischievous laugh along with a perverted comment.

they knew it wasn't cool to desire their best friend's girlfriend, but were they the ones to blame when you looked that pretty? you looked like some fancy masterpiece sculpted by michelangelo in his peak of inspiration. are they the ones to blame when you looked like aprodithe's daughter yourself, being allowed to live among those poor and useless human beings, gifting them your graciousness? you must be the girl of every guy's dream and they're lucky to have a best friend good enough to win a lotto. at least they get to see you often.

as donghyeok passed the videos, the two guys found themselves more and more immersed in you. and jaemin is completely right to be obsessed with you.

“holy fuck...” haechan whispers, licking his lips before biting his lower lip. jeno comes closer, eyes wide open when he notices what's happening on the video.

“come here.” Jaemin's voice is heard and you comply. you crawl to the corner of the bed, where your boyfriend was, and sit still.

you were wearing an expensive lingerie set that was driving not only one, but three men crazy. the bra hugged your breasts so prettily that they wondered if they'd fit that good in their hands.

“nana... your cock...” you let out a whiny plea. almost purring like a cat. your sparkling eyes, begging your boyfriend to stop flauting you to the camera and to let you suck on him.

it's not that hard to deduce that jaemin may have been lowering his pants.

“haechan, enough.” jeno warns, trying to be rational, but yet his eyes were glued on the little screen that was showing you, kitty licking jaemin's tip, teasing him. you were even rubbing his cock between your breasts, slobbering on it.

“fuck it, he's not here to see what we're doing.” donghyeok says in a low voice, holding the camera in one hand, as the other was lowering his shorts.

“haechan, what the fuck!” the older lee exclaims, completely shocked with his friend's attitude.

“jeno, if you don't wanna stay, then leave. and you better don't open that fucking mouth of yours to jaemin.” he spits on his palm, before dragging it along his shaft, lubricating his length. “but you can't deny the obvious.” haechan laughs, looking at jeno’s pants, before turning his full attention to the video.

jaemin's hand was guiding your head, sucking him off as if it was your life goal. you sucked his tip, forcing your tongue on his slit, making your boyfriend cuss, and squeeze lightly his full balls. he's so fucking good at what he's doing, and so are you. shortly after, he's pulling your hair, prying you off of his cock.

“open that pretty mouth of yours, huh?” he asks, jerking off right on your mouth. In a matter of few seconds, you can taste his salty cum on your tongue and you swallow when he spills more on your boobs.

jeno was standing, thinking about this whole situation. he looked at his friend having fun and looks at his own problem, getting more uncomfortable. the way donghyeok looked so satisfied watching whatever was happening on the screen awakened his interest and desire. fuck, she was his best friend's girlfriend, but... she was fucking pretty and when would he get any opportunity like that again?

“this might be harassment or something like that…” he mumbles, retaking his place beside his friend and frees his cock out of his pants. jeno could see haechan's mischievous smile, so he said first: “don't you even get started, you nasty dog.” even with that said, donghyeok didn't seem very offended, after all, who is he to say anything?

by this time you were already laying in bed, your legs spread for jaemin and the camera, consequently, the two perverts watching that. your glistening cunt gushing your juices, while your boyfriend collected every drop of it with his long fingers, teasing your slit.

“how many?” jaemin asks, threatening to insert the tip of two of his fingers, but never doing it.

“three, nana…” you whine, biting your lower lip, watching your boyfriend smile and tease you, the same way you'd do to him. that's until he inserts the three fingers you requested, all at once.

haechan was sure that sweet, languid, moan would linger in his mind forever. jeno, on the other hand, was sure he will never be able to look at his friend and his girlfriend again. he'd rather throw himself off of the window. as soon as he cums.

with each movement of jaemin's fingers, the wet squelching sound could be heard. it made your eyes roll while jeno and haechan make it an opportunity to fasten their own movements. jeno gulps, looking straight at your wet hole, salivating. fuck, he imagines how good it must be to feel you. he's sure you're tight and nice to be inside of. he tighten his grip, forcing his cock on a tighter hole. haechan also salivates, watching how good you take jaemin's fingers. he stops his hand's movements, thrusting his hips up, imagining it was your pussy he was fucking.

jaemin takes his fingers out of you and the boys could suppose what he was doing. he was tasting you on his own fingers. haechan curses, caressing his balls, and closes his eyes, catching his lower lip between his teeth. jeno slows his rhythm, tracing his fingers along his abs.

your boyfriend hovers over you and kisses you. his free hand traces your body, searching for your bra's clasp, undoing it. you discard the piece, feeling jaemin's wet kisses on your skin, and then you feel his plump lips wrapping around your nipple. you shiver feeling your boyfriend's warm tongue, hugging him.

“jaem…” you call, almost like crying, and jaemin smiles against your skin, understanding well your wish. he pulls the mound of flesh between his teeth making you hiss.

“how could i deny you?” he mocks and stands up, taking off his pants. when he resumes his position above you, he rests his cock on your tummy.

and that's when they realize how smaller than jaemin you are.

“no fucking way! this won't fit, no shit.” donghyeok smiled, clearly having fun. “this might be better than some cheap ass porn i've ever watched in my life.” his eyes lighten up with excitement. jeno only nods, lost in pleasure.

jaemin rubs his tip on your slit, forcing himself slowly. “no matter how many times i fuck you... will you ever open enough for me, darling?” he growls, getting even further inside you.

“jaem, it's too big!” you whine, gripping the bed sheets and closing your eyes, arching your back.

for a moment, your boobs shake and donghyeok loves it, almost losing it. he considers replay that part, but maybe another time, when he's alone.

when jaemin is fully inside you and the bulge is perfectly visible, jeno cums with a grunt. haechan laughs, teasing his friend. “good job, jen! hit it that fast?”

“shut the fuck up, lee donghyeok.” jeno grits his teeth. the truth is, jeno has a thing for bulge. it was the first thing he searched for when he was trying to relieve some stress. it was the first thing he thought when getting laid and now... knowing you were so small that a bulge was surely made on your belly made him see stars.

jaemin moves. starts slow, helping you get used to his size, even if you had done it plenty of times before, he was too big for you, no matter how many times when you were fucked by him, but then he picks up his pace. his hand presses the bulge on your stomach for a while, before gripping your thigh. his rhythm is rough, intense, so much that it makes your breasts move at each snap of his hips. and haechan felt like he was in heaven.

your moans starts to get more desperate and high-pitched. you call your boyfriend's name like a mantra while resting one of your hands on his stomach. jaemin doesn't stop, only picking up his pace, getting even rougher. he feels your pussy gripping his cock, identifying your orgasm. your eyes roll to the back of your skull and your mouth remains wide open for a while until you feel it dry, feeling jaemin squirting all of his seed inside of you.

“you fine, love?” he asks, slowing down his pace, only so you can come down off your high. you can just nod.

jaemin finally turns his camera, focusing right where your bodies meet. he thrusts a few more times, before getting out of you. the moment his cum is seen dripping out of you like a cascade is when haechan loses it, cumming with a whiny moan.

jaemin says something else, but the boys could care less, so donghyeok turns off the camera, putting it on the bed. jeno and haechan remain in silence for a moment.

“this might be the best thing my eyes have ever seen.” “that must be the gayest thing i've ever done.” they say at the same time.

“what?” haechan says.

“c'mon, i saw your cock. plus, i had to hear you moan like a whore. i'm getting insane…” jeno stands up angry, covering his dick again.

“oh, right, 'cause you moan like an alpha, huh?” the younger lee also stands up, bringing the camera with him.

“where do you think you're going with this, haechan?” jeno questions, watching his friend walk past him with the camera in hands.

“if you think i'm not enjoying this pretty little thing right here while i can, you're stupid. and you better not to try and jerk off with me. once was enough.” he says, leaving the room and an astonished jeno behind.

poor jeno, little does he know that haechan won't only watch. maybe he can upload some videos too. seeing jaemin's cock was a little price to pay when he was able to see all of you, spread and wet again.

[paddockletters]

back to us | franco colapinto

summary: you’re franco’s ex, but the two of you remain surprisingly close friends but when fans spot you together at events and in each other’s stories, they start speculating whether you’re back together. author's note: prob i'm gonna do a 'tag list', do you want to be on it?

oneofyourfriends

liked by francocolapinto and 9,872 others

tagged: francocolapinto, yourusername and 6 others

oneofyourfriends: Time flies when you're with the best people

view all comments

user11: WAIT. I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS. are they back together or what? I NEED ANSWERS💀

user2: is this a subtle confirmation or are they just really good at making us question everything?

user3: Franco and Y/N, I swear if you two are playing with our hearts again, im done

user4: this is the most ‘we’re in love but won’t admit it’ pic I’ve ever seen. can someone just give us the tea already?

user5: WAIT WAIT WAIT. I was literally just talking about them a week ago. are we getting an announcement soon?? 👀

user6: this picture screams ‘we’re secretly in love but just messing with y’all for fun’ energy 😏

user7: hold on, i know I'm not the only one who’s just realized they might be together again after all this time 😳

user8: they've been lowkey giving us these vibes for a while now, I knew it! 🫣💘

user9: not them teasing us, just admit it already!

f1gossipdaily

liked by francolapinto, yourusername and 8,852 others

f1gossipdaily: 🚨 SPOTTED: Franco Colapinto leaving a fancy dinner spot in Buenos Aires with a mistery girl... maybe his long-term ex, Y/N 👀 Thoughts? Drop them below!

view all comments

user1: FRANCO AND Y/N??? I’M SCREAMING. Are we back in 2020 or what?! 😭🔥

user2: that’s not just a friendly dinner. look at the way he’s smiling at her. IT’S LOVE 🥹💘

user3: plot twist: they never stopped dating and have been clowning us this whole time 🤡

user4: Franco and Y/N liked this post… yeah, they’re up to SOMETHING 👀

user5: imagine being THIS iconic that the entire internet loses it over a dinner. Y/N supremacy

user6: not me already planning their wedding even though we don’t know what’s going on

user7: i bet they were just talking about how to break the internet again

user8: Franco and Y/N liked this post?? THEY KNOW WHAT THEY’RE DOING

user9: they’re feeding us crumbs, and we’re still feral

user10: wait… what if they were on a DATE?! someone investigate asap!!!!

user11: they are like ‘we’re definitely back together but in denial’ 😭

yourusername

liked by francolapinto and 73,471 others

yourusername: A little bit of everything lately

view all comments

user1: I swear, the dog looks like a puppy version of the one Franco had weeks ago... 👀

user2: WAIT. Is that the same dog that was in Franco’s photo a few weeks ago???

user4: the dog’s adorable, but the wine glasses? 🧐

friend1: that puppy is seriously the cutest thing ever, i’m obsessed! 💗💗

user5: that dog is CUTEEE but I’m too distracted by the wine glasses. ARE YOU AND FRANCO BACK TOGETHER OR WHAT?! 😭

user6: i'm just here for the dog. I need details about the second glass though 🤔

francolapinto: 🐶💓

❤️ liked by the author

user8: Franco really out here in the comments…

user9: WAIT A MINUTE, are you back together???

user10: just stop playing with us, i'm begging you! 😭

user11:I’m sorry, but the fact that Franco commented has me DEAD 💀 I need answers!!

user12: just admit it, Y/N. The other glass is for Francooooo

lando: when’s the dog playdate? Asking for a friend🐾👀

❤️ liked by the author user13: ariana, what are you doing here??? user14: that friends is franco, right? RIGHT??? user15: wait, did Lando just say THAT?? 👀 user16: lando, stop it. are you throwing some shade at Franco or just being a good friend? user17: this is a mess. now I’m even more confused. Y/N and Lando? Y/N and Franco? Someone help me out 😭

[undressrehearsal]

a bite of luxury

part 2

summary: it's been a week since you and ellie's date. you weren't ignoring her - but you were also too afraid of what she might be. so when she shows up to your apartment, you have pretty mixed feelings

tags: sugarmommy!ellie, rich!ellie, vampire!ellie, lot of talk about blood, oral(r!receiving), fingering(r! receiving), afab reader, ellie's a bit stalker-y tbh, smallest bit of bloodplay (what do u expect), slightest bit of praise kink, this shit is filthy tbh

word count: ~9k

a/n: listen i'm sorry I work 50 hr weeks and i'm writing a book so it takes me FOREVER to write shit but i hope y'all like this one cause i love it. if you wanna be added to my tag list just lmk!

part 1

You hadn't talked to Ellie in nearly a week. 

It wasn’t that you were ignoring her. It was just that any time she texted you you could do nothing but stare at the letters for several minutes hoping they’d make sense before you finally shut your phone off. She had called you once, the day after your date, but you just let it ring in your hand until it finally fell silent, convincing yourself that it was only because you were hungover and didn’t feel like talking to anybody. (She, of course, left you a voicemail telling you how much she enjoyed your date and that Riley wanted to meet you.) 

You weren't ignoring her. 

You were just avoiding her. 

Which was different, right? 

That night, when Ellie came back into the sitting room with two glasses of water, she had found you standing by the mantle, looking for all the world like a frightened animal. When you had heard her coming, you had set the frame down as though it had burned you, putting it back into its spot on the mantle, face down. Perhaps it was better like that. If you had to look at the sepia face staring up at you and the very real, unchanged face smiling at you in the warmth of this house, you weren't sure how you'd react. 

You weren't sure what your face held, but whatever it was made Ellie's steps slow. She came to a stop several feet away, looking at you warily. “Everything okay?” 

You had only nodded and politely asked her to take you home. 

She didn’t argue, and you couldn’t decide if you preferred that over the alternative. She opened the car door for you, closing it gently once you were settled. You didn't say much on the drive home - your head was still swimming with wine and confusion and the heat still pooling between your legs. Ellie tried making conversation, asking you about your plans for the week and if you wanted to meet up again sometime, but your heart wasn’t in it; it was a million miles and two-hundred years away. You could only give her one-word replies, running your hands over the expensive leather seats to ground yourself. 

She walked you to the door of your apartment complex. You didn’t kiss her, only said goodnight and went inside, leaving her standing out in the cold. Although you weren’t sure if she could actually feel it. 

You weren’t sure what she was. 

The logical part of your brain tried to convince you that it wasn’t anything, that you had just been drunk and tired and way too turned on to think straight. You tried to tell yourself it hadn’t been Ellie in that picture - that it was an ancestor that looked disturbingly similar - that it was just a stage photo taken to look like it was from the 1800s - that you weren’t crazy. But some part of you - some primal instinct that prickled at your skin and raised the hair on the back of your neck - knew that you were full of shit and wouldn’t let you forget it. 

You knew what you saw. It was no trick of the light, no staged photo. Ellie had - impossibly, inexplicably - been at that house in 1816. 

You sat in the quiet of your apartment, only the light of the full moon and your laptop’s blue screen illuminating your bedroom. You couldn't even hear the normal traffic that blared from the street all hours of the night. The only thing you could hear - the only sound penetrating this deafening, suffocating silence - was your own heartbeat. 

You felt so stupid - crazy, really - but you typed the words anyway: What can live forever?

That wasn't entirely helpful. Google fed you an article about jellyfish - Turritopsis dohrnii, the “immortal jellyfish”. The only creature on Earth that was biologically immortal. You rubbed at your aching eyes - you hadn't been sleeping well - and tried again. 

Can humans live forever? 

That didn't really help either. Now you got articles about cryogenic freezing and uploading your consciousness into a computer - you were pretty sure the former hadn't even been a thing in the 1800s, and as for the latter, you definitely didn't think Ellie was a computer. A computer couldn’t kiss like that, couldn’t grip your hair and press promises into the hollow of your throat, cold fingers skimming over your skin-

You groaned, pressing your knuckles into your eyes. That kind of train of thought was exactly why it had become increasingly difficult to avoid Ellie. You couldn’t count the number of times in the past few days that your thumb had hovered over her name on your phone, your wired, sleep-deprived heart unable to resist a mystery. But this wasn’t some fucking Agatha Christie novel, and you definitely weren’t the main character. This was real life, and until you knew what Ellie was and what she could do - other than have eternal beauty, apparently - your instinct told you not to trust her. 

You felt insanely stupid - illogical and delusional and a million other synonyms - but the cheesy scene in that teenage-brain rot vampire movie came to mind: You’re pale white and ice cold. Maybe it wasn’t the most outlandish idea, when you really thought about it; it was no more outlandish than Ellie being at that house when it was built in 1816. Besides, maybe it added up: Her fingers had felt like ice on your cheek. She never blushed, not even after you had made out - a fact that had left you self-conscious before but would make a lot more sense. You couldn't deny that you had felt a strong, unnatural pull to her. And the metallic smell that seemed to cling to her beneath her perfume….

So, feeling like a cheap impersonator of Kristen Stewart, you typed in vampires. 

The page was still buffering, your shitty, cheap internet taking its sweet time as always, when there was a sharp knock on your apartment door. 

You jumped so hard your laptop slipped from the bed and fell to the floor with a sickening thud. You flinched, hoping it was just a broken screen you could live with. You got up, stepping around the fallen soldier, and left the blissful darkness of your bedroom, flicking the light on in your living room. But when you opened the front door, you wanted nothing more than to slam it shut again. 

Ellie stood in the dingy hallway, the worn leather jacket finally making an appearance over her shoulders. Her hair stood at odd ends, as though she had been tugging at it. Yet, even looking haggard in a torn jacket, she looked just as good as she had amongst the stars. 

And here you were, standing in your messy apartment in your favorite pajamas, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. 

Somehow, Ellie was the one that looked sheepish; she couldn't quite meet your eyes, scratching the back of her head and fidgeting with the hem of her jacket. Before your survival instincts could convince you to close the door, she said, in the softest voice imaginable, “Hi.” 

And you could no longer bring yourself to close the door in her adorable fucking face.

When you didn't respond, Ellie nodded, seemingly to herself, rocking on her heels awkwardly. She spoke to her shoes when she said, “Sorry, I know this is probably really fucking weird.” 

“That's an understatement,” you said, surprising yourself with a laugh. You almost felt bad when she flinched.

Frankly, you probably should have closed the door and locked it behind you. You had only gone on one date with Ellie, and she was suddenly showing up to your apartment in the middle of the night. You had practically ghosted her for several days now, and for some reason she had come crawling back to you like a dog. Yeah, it was beyond weird - creepy, almost. And yet…. 

You pulled the blanket tighter around you to try to hide your pajamas - an oversized t-shirt from some anime you hadn't watched in years and a pair of shorts so short you couldn't possibly wear them anywhere other than your own room. You leaned against the doorframe, trying your damnedest to look nonchalant - to look like your heart wasn't trying to escape your chest - and said, “What are you doing here?” 

Ellie shifted, fidgeting, biting her lip so hard it looked like she might draw blood (could she bleed?). “You just…. After our date, you seemed really upset and I've been worried about you.” She spoke in a rush, as though the words were racing to leave her tongue. “I-I don't know if it's something I did, but if it is - I want to make it up to you. Whatever it is, I'm sorry. I-” She hesitated, finally looking up at you through her lashes. “And, honestly, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you.” 

Your heart did some kind of embarrassing acrobatic routine at her words. You tried to keep your voice steady, as though your cheeks weren't obviously burning: “You didn't do anything. I just….” 

I saw a picture of you looking just as young and beautiful in 1816 and freaked out and honestly I don't know what you are or if you're dangerous and I'm scared to find out but I also can't deny that I haven't stopped thinking about you either. 

Yeah, you couldn't say that. 

Instead, you said, like a coward,, “I've just been busy, honestly.” 

Tension drained from Ellie, her jaw visibly unclenching, that cute pinch between her brows smoothing. A relieved smile tugged at her lips. 

“Okay,” she said, a little too breathlessly. She cleared her throat and tried again: “Okay. That's-That's good. Um….” She looked around, taking in your dim apartment behind you before her eyes landed on you again. She noticed, seemingly for the first time, that you were in your pajamas. An amused - almost fond - smile lit up her eyes. “You look a little busy right now. Do you… I can text you later, maybe? I'd love to go on another date. If you want to.” 

You sized her up, taking in the infamous jacket and the black t-shirt underneath. She blended in surprisingly well with your shabby apartment complex - down to the worn out converse. You shouldn't have invited her in. After everything, you'd be stupid to invite her into your apartment. You were just talking about how she might be dangerous, how you couldn't trust her…. 

So, you didn't invite her inside. You simply said, “I was actually just about to turn on a movie,” and walked away. You left the door open, a silent expectation for her to follow you inside. Without looking back, you said, “Do you want anything to drink?” 

When Ellie didn't respond, you turned back to find her still standing right outside the door. Her eyes were wide, looking like a deer watching a car barrel towards it, unable to move. She rocked back on her heels, blowing an awkward breath through pursed lips. “Can I, um- Can I come in?” 

You slowly turned to her, setting down the empty cup you had picked up. Taking a cautious step toward her, you said, “What do you mean?” 

Ellie laughed that rough, charming laugh, but it rang hollow. It would have been imperceptible to anyone who wasn't already looking for red flags. “I mean, it's rude to come in uninvited. I've never been to your place before, I don't want to - you know, overstep, I guess.” 

You squinted at her, alarm bells blaring in your ears. “You're not overstepping anything.” 

She pressed her lips together, impatience creeping into her shoulders. “So… Can I come in?” 

“Can you?” 

Ellie blinked at you. “What?” 

You took several steps towards her, stopping just inside the doorway - just where she couldn't reach you. There was some kind of panic behind her eyes, like a child that had been caught red-handed. Setting your shoulders, you repeated, “Can you?” 

She stumbled over her words, syllables tripping over her tongue: “I- it's rude to just barge into somebody's home-” 

“And I'm telling you it's not rude,” you interrupted. You held a hand out to her, careful to keep your fingers right inside the doorway. “So why can't you come in?” 

Ellie looked at your outstretched hand, her eyes wide and desperate. She reached out to you before drawing her hand back sharply, as though she had been burned. A low growl rose from her throat, and she snapped, “I just can't, okay?” 

Your eyebrows rose, your heart pounding against your ribcage. You should have been afraid - you were so close to the truth you could taste it - but you couldn't find the fear inside yourself. Instead, there was only the warm touch of relief. 

You took another step towards her, still carefully inside the doorway. You were so close you could smell that warm, metallic scent that clung to her. Knowing what it might be, it should have disgusted you; instead, you were buzzing with an overwhelming curiosity. A restlessness burned in your fingertips - inexplicably, you wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch her. You wanted to feel the burn of her cold fingers against you. 

“Tell me what you are,” you murmured, unwilling to speak any louder for fear that you would shatter the barrier between you - the barrier protecting you.

“Hopefully more than a first date,” Ellie said, that hollow laugh trying to cut through the tension. When you only looked at her, she faltered, that mask cracking just a little more. Ellie's jaw worked, the muscle flexing. She said, slowly now, as though you were a frightened animal, “I'm just Ellie. I'm here because I missed you. I really want to come in and just watch a movie with you. Can I please come in?” A desperate whine tinted her words, sending an embarrassing flush to your cheeks. 

You grit your teeth, lifting your chin stubbornly. “I found that picture. The one of the house - the one dated back to 1816 when it was built. You were there.” If she had any, you imagined the blood would've drained from Ellie's face. “How were you there? How old are you, really? What are you?”

Ellie looked like she wanted to argue - her lips curled back in a snarl, her fists clenched at her sides. You should have been afraid - you should have been terrified - but really you were just craving the truth. 

Finally, she sighed, her shoulders dropping as all the fight seemed to leave her body at once. She scrubbed a hand across her face and said, “Look, nobody's ever…. Nobody's ever asked me that before. Nobody… nobody cared before. Nobody looked. The people I've met on Seeking only wanted sex and money - that's what I'm good at. But you….” She paused, lips opening and closing hesitantly. “I don't know why, but you're different. You obviously know something isn't normal here. So I'd really, really like to talk.” 

You hesitated, crossing your arms. “If I let you in here, how do I know you won't just… try to shut me up.” You couldn't phrase it any other way. 

“I'm not going to hurt you,” she said. She brought her hands up, fingers seeming to press at some invisible barrier that separated you. “Besides,” she added with a short, wicked flash of teeth (you had never noticed just how sharp her canines really were), “I'm not particularly worried about you spreading anything. Nobody would actually believe you.” 

You swallowed, her words sending a dangerous chill down your spine. She was right, of course. Who would believe somebody who started spreading rumors that some rich woman they met on a dating website was a bloodthirsty monster? 

Every ounce of your self-preservation instincts told you to close the door, to ignore the inhuman pull you felt towards her. It screamed at you that this was an awful idea that could only end in heartbreak, that you'd be far safer if you simply never spoke to this woman again. It was the natural instinct of prey. 

And yet, like an idiot, you said, “Fine. You can come in.” 

With the spell broken, Ellie stepped through the doorway with a relieved sigh. You took a hasty step back to let her through, but it didn't much matter. By coming through, she stepped right into your personal space, so close that you could feel her breath on your cheeks. It brought a rush of memories from the night at her house - you could practically feel the hard bookcase against your back, her lips pressing against your pulse, so shockingly hot compared to the rest of her. 

You muttered an apology - unsure just what you were apologizing for - and stepped aside. Gesturing to your living room, you said, “Make yourself comfortable,” before retreating to the kitchen. 

Truthfully, it wasn’t much of a retreat. Your apartment was small, no larger than Ellie’s bedroom, probably (you tried very hard to not think about Ellie’s bedroom). The sink was only a few extra steps away from your couch, but the shabby carpet changed abruptly into tile, so it was technically a different room. 

When you went to ask her again if she wanted anything to drink, your voice died in your throat. Does she drink? That thought alone caused your brain to short-circuit, some survival instinct forcing you to face reality and change the question to Does she drink water? 

You decided not to ask, instead filling up two glasses of water before squaring your shoulders, taking a deep breath, and going back into the living room. It was small, only enough space for a single sofa that had been gifted to you, a coffee table, a TV stand that you had found at a second-hand shop, and a small TV that you bought off of Facebook marketplace. It wasn’t much, but it was cozy. You had set up string lights on the ceiling, and you plugged them in before turning off the blaring overhead light, casting the room in a warm, hazy glow. 

Ellie had taken a seat on the sofa, hands fiddling absently in her lap. You set the glasses down on the coffee table before sitting on the opposite end of the sofa, as far away as you physically could. You pulled your legs up so they acted as a barrier between you. 

After several long, unbearably silent moments, Ellie blew out a breath, laughing awkwardly. She didn't look at you when she said, “You probably have questions.”

“No shit, I have questions.” It came out sharper than you intended, and you just hoped she couldn't bleed. “My first one being why the hell did you show up to my apartment in the middle of the night?” 

Ellie winced; you almost felt bad about it. “To be fair, it's only seven.” When you only scowled at her, she hastily continued, “I told you. I missed you. I… I was worried about you.” 

“Why?” you said, unable to prevent your voice from softening. “We only went on one date.” 

Ellie shrugged, looking as though she'd be blushing if she could. Her voice was small when she said, “I just… really like you, I guess.” 

And you decided to leave it at that. 

“What are you?” you asked instead.

She looked at you then, a twinkle in her eye. “I think you know that already.” 

“I want to hear you say it.” 

Ellie held your gaze; you felt as though you were paralyzed, your body frozen under the watchful eyes of a predator. “I have a lot of names. Nosferatu. Hominus Nocturna. Upyr. Leech. Blood breed.” Her teeth - fangs - flashed when she smiled. “Vampire. Pick your favorite.” 

You weren’t surprised - you had known, after all. But your hands shook where they rested on your knees, your palms suddenly sticky with sweat. Your heart hammered against your ribs and you wondered if she could hear it. You weren’t surprised, your body just hadn't gotten the memo. 

You nodded and cleared your throat. You reached for the glass just to have something to do with your hands. The cold water was a blissful distraction, giving you a moment of reprieve. When you set it back down, you hoped she didn’t see the way your fingers trembled. 

When you found your tongue again, you said, “What about the pictures?” When Ellie only furrowed her brow and cocked her head, you continued, “On your profile. And all the pictures you sent me. All the myths say that… vampires,” you choked on the word, “don’t show up in pictures. And mirrors,” you added, suddenly remembering the mirror in her foyer. You left the question hanging in the air, a tangible thing, until Ellie reached out to grab it. 

“That myth was written centuries ago,” she said, amusement tinting her words. “Silver… silver’s basically my kryptonite, right? That one’s true. Mirrors used to be made with it, which is why it wouldn’t show a reflection. But now they’re mostly made of aluminum, I think - like the one you saw at my house. Photos are the same idea,” she continued, taking out her phone as though to demonstrate. She turned the camera on, turning it around so you could see her image on the screen. “Film cameras were made with silver too - a lot of film cameras still are. But for the most part, there’s none in phone cameras. I can send you all the selfies you want.” Her image in the camera grinned that devastatingly crooked grin before she clicked the phone off again, tucking it back into her pocket. 

Her mini history lesson left your head spinning. You shook it off and said, “Did you ask me out just to…?” You couldn’t bring yourself to finish that sentence. 

Elllie’s eyes widened in alarm. She turned her entire body to you, and you suddenly wanted to shrink away from her intense stare. Her words rushed past her lips, fighting to get out first: “No! Holy shit, no - it’s not like that, I swear. I asked you out because I liked you, okay?” 

You couldn’t stop the stupid smile that pulled at your lips. Cocking a brow, you teased, “Past tense?” 

Ellie fumbled for a moment, her lips opening and closing with no sound, before she finally huffed out an incredulous laugh, looking up at you from under her lashes. “I’m here, aren’t I?” 

You ignored the warmth that spread in your chest. Clearing your throat, you said, “Do you… Do you turn people?” 

“I haven’t for a long time.” 

You weren’t sure if that brought you any comfort. 

You didn’t want to ask, but you needed to know: “How many… humans have you killed?” 

Ellie didn’t look at you when she said, “You don’t want to know the answer to that.” She paused before adding, “But if it’s any comfort, I haven’t done that in a long time either.” 

“So if you don’t turn people and you don’t kill them, what do you eat?” You regretted the question as soon as you asked it. 

“You can… feed on somebody without turning them. It takes practice to know how much to drink without hurting them. And I’ve had a lot of practice.” 

You decided to leave it at that. 

“If you’re not trying to… you know, feed… on me…,” the words felt impossibly big in your mouth, “then can you turn it off?” 

Ellie’s brow furrowed again. “Turn what off?” 

“You know, the,” you waved a hand over yourself, as if encompassing your entire being, “the weird, vampire allure you have. The intense… draw I feel when I’m near you.” 

When you looked up at her, Ellie had that playful spark in her eye again, her lips quirking. She was looking at you like you were the most interesting thing she had ever seen, something new and entrancing. “That’s a myth,” she murmured.

The soft, rough tone in her voice caused a shiver to race down your spine. You asked, dumbly, “What?” 

Ellie’s smile only widened. “There’s no weird, vampire allure. There’s nothing supernatural about that. That’s just how much you like me.” 

Your cheeks flushed, your skin aflame with something akin to embarrassment, but it was slightly softer, more pleasant. You nodded, and could only bring your lips to say, weakly, “Okay.”

But Ellie didn't seem keen on dropping it. She turned to face you fully, drawing her legs up onto the couch; it was small enough that you could feel her pants on your shin, the rough press of denim against your bare skin. “Hell no, you don't just get to brush past that. You really-” She licked her lips and you tried not to trace the path of her tongue with your eyes. 

She didn't have to finish the question. Besides, there'd be no point in hiding it. Maybe you didn't even want to.

You looked up at her, her intense expression making you want to sink into the floor. You made yourself nod, your tongue refusing to hold onto any words to describe it. 

Ellie leaned in closer, her eyes never leaving yours. You felt so incredibly small under her gaze. Something akin to hunger flashed in her eyes, the eagerness of a snake right before it strikes, yet the icy feeling of fear didn't run through your blood. No, something far warmer flooded your veins. 

Her voice dropping to a murmur, Ellie said, “Got any more questions, sweetheart?” 

You almost didn't ask. You shouldn't, really. It'd be like tempting fate, placing your head right into its enticing maw. But your curiosity tugged at you, impossible to ignore or deny, so you said, “Can I see them?”

You didn't want to elaborate - you didn't even have to. Ellie pulled her legs under her so she could lean closer, close enough for you to smell that sweetly metallic scent that made your head spin. Still, she gave you enough space to move away as she parted her lips, watching you carefully.

Her fangs glistened in the low light, the bulbs above you glinting off the pearly white surface. You weren't sure how you didn’t notice them before. You didn't want to say they were obvious, but they were definitely hard to miss. They extended just below her regular teeth, longer than a canine should have been, the tip wickedly sharp. 

You reached a hand out subconsciously, stopping just a few inches from her face. Your fingers curled, your fight or flight instincts warring with that same stubborn curiosity that you couldn’t seem to tamp down. You were not about to literally put your hand in the bear's mouth - but then Ellie met your eyes with a hunger that burned your cheeks, her still-parted lips curling up in amusement, and nodded. 

You felt her breath against your skin, hot and wet, as you moved closer, pressing just the tip of your finger against the point of a fang. 

You immediately drew your hand back, wincing at the sudden sting. The slightest touch had pricked your skin, the point deadly sharp. 

“Shit,” you hissed, watching as a bead of blood bloomed thick and red, tracing a line down your finger. You cursed again, popping the digit into your mouth in an attempt to stop the bleeding, the taste of metal coating your tongue. Pulling your finger from your mouth, you grimaced apologetically up at Ellie and said, laughing awkwardly, “Fuck, those things are sharp-” 

You didn’t get to finish your sentence; you hardly even had time to register the sudden, intense hunger etched on every line of Ellie's face. Her cold fingers wrapped around your wrist, her grip just shy of painful. Her other hand came up to grip your jaw, tilting your face up to kiss you. 

It wasn't like what it had been at her house all those nights ago. There, in the low light of her sitting room, her kiss had been warm and slow, a gentle guidance that left you relaxed and pleasantly lightheaded, like the wine that had still blurred the edges of your vision. It had been a kiss that was really more of a question, one you hadn’t yet had the answer to. 

The way Ellie kissed you now felt like a demand. She leaned over you, releasing your wrist to brace herself on the armrest behind your shoulder, her body pressed in a cold line against yours, making your skin prickle with goosebumps. She wedged her knee between yours, the rough denim of her jeans scratching your bare thighs, and an involuntary shudder wracked through your body. Using the hand against your jaw, Ellie tilted your chin just right to press in harder, pressing her tongue against the seam of your lips. You gasped, parting your lips, a heady warmth pooling between your legs. You felt Ellie's tongue press into you in search of metal- 

It was too fast for you to process, but suddenly Ellie was back on the other side of the couch, gasping for air she didn't need. She had a hand over her mouth, refusing to look at you. 

“Fuck,” she cursed, muffled by her fingers. Her other hand clutched at the cushion beneath her, as though it were a restraint. “Shit, I'm sorry. That was totally - I shouldn't have - fuck.”

Your brain was dizzy with whiplash, your chest still fighting to regain the breath she had stolen from you. You were suddenly far too warm, missing the chill of her body against yours. Your hands that had somehow ended up fisted in the cushions ached when you released them; a small splotch of blood stained the fabric from your injured finger, staining your skin. 

Past the haze in your brain and the warmth that was impossible to ignore between your legs, you could only make your mouth say, “What the fuck, Ellie?” 

It was like you had kicked a dog. Ellie - with her razor sharp teeth and predatory instincts - hung her head in shame, squeezing her eyes closed. She scrubbed a hand over her face and moved to stand, saying, “I'm so fucking sorry, I'll leave-” 

You reached out to grab her wrist, the cold biting into your fingers. For a moment it seemed like she was frozen, caught in ice, staring down at where your skin met hers. You could feel a pulse pounding in your fingers and you knew it wasn't hers. 

“Why the fuck,” you said before your own traitorous heart gave out on you, “did you stop?” 

You saw the question in Ellie’s eyes before she said it. You couldn't hear her ask it - if you did, the logical part of your brain might catch up to you and stop you. You tugged on her wrist, wrapping your other hand around the back of her neck to pull her back into you. 

The logical part of you - the part that fought to keep you alive - didn't matter right now. 

Ellie’s gasp was muffled as you pulled her down to kiss her again, grunting when she landed clumsily on top of you. There was a moment where you both froze, your lips locked, and you mentally prepared yourself for the awkwardness that would surely follow. 

Yet, surprisingly, it never came. Instead, Ellie giggled into your mouth and the taste of it was like the sweetest drug, coating your throat and giving you a euphoric high. She moved the arm you were still holding, twisting her wrist so she could slide her hand into yours, locking your fingers. Her other hand braced against the couch by your hip, supporting herself as she finally pulled away from you. She didn’t go far; you could see each speck of green and brown and gold in her eyes, could count her freckles like you had counted the stars as a child. 

Ellie was laughing, but there was no malice behind it. It was warm, far too warm for the silence that lived within her ribcage. You wondered if it would taste like the wine she had bought you - like wood and fire on your tongue, a sultry spice that was just a little out of your tax bracket. 

“What are you doing?” Ellie murmured, her breath catching in your lashes. 

You shrugged, feeling exposed under her intense gaze, sure she could hear the tremble in your breath. You shifted, leaning back on your elbows and looking up at her through your lashes. You tried - and failed - to sound nonchalant when you said, “We never finished what we started at your house.” 

Ellie furrowed her brow and you had the strongest urge to reach up and smooth it out. Confusion was a cute look on her. “Are you sure?” she said, looking at you like you might run away any moment. “I mean-“ 

You placed your finger on her bottom lip, her words coming to a stuttering stop. There was still blood smeared on your skin, a new bloom pooling from the wound, tracing its slow path down to your knuckle. Ellie froze, her trembling lips the only part that seemed capable of movement. You felt like you’d choke on your own held breath.

Ellie’s eyes were eclipsed, a barely contained hunger hiding in wait there. You had never before felt so much like watched prey, like a mouse taunting a cat, fascinated by its sharp teeth. Her voice was a low murmur, a heat you could feel against your skin and in your chest: “You’re playing a dangerous game, you know.” 

You hummed, tilting your head and dipping the tip of your finger between her parted lips. You felt her shudder, her mouth dropping open, and a flush crept up your neck, tingling in each of your fingertips. Ellie’s eyelids fluttered; she gripped your hand so tight it ached in your wrist. She was shaking under your hands, desperately trying to hold herself together even as she was coming apart at the seams. 

You waited until she opened her eyes, looking at you for some kind of relief. You pressed your finger to her tongue lightly, just enough for her to taste the fresh blood there, and said, “The best games always are.” 

That must have been all the confirmation Ellie needed. She wrapped her lips around your finger, her tongue warm and wet against your skin. You felt her moan, the purr of it against your hand, the vibration of it tracing a hot finger down your chest, settling low in your stomach. When she sucked, her throat bobbing, you felt it like electricity, as though her tongue were elsewhere. 

Ellie whined when you pulled your hand back, leaving a smear of blood on her bottom lip. Her eyes were half-lidded, her breath hard and fast against your cheeks, and you couldn't stop yourself from grabbing her hair and pulling her back into you. 

Her mouth tasted of metal - of you, your life. It should have been repulsive, tasting the thing that rushed beneath your skin on somebody's tongue, but it only sent a warm shudder through your body, pooling low in your stomach. Her fingers pressed into the dip at your hip, digging in enough to bruise. Ellie groaned when you pressed your tongue between her lips, chasing the taste of your own lifeblood. 

“Fuck, you taste good,” she moaned against your lips. She pressed you back against the cushions, slotting her thigh between your legs- 

You pulled back, panting. You tried to speak - you had something to say, but you couldn't quite remember it as you met Ellie's hungry eyes. She had you pinned, her thigh pressing just too lightly where you wanted her most, and every coherent thought you could have had dissolved into the air. 

“I, um,” you started, words failing you. Ellie tilted her head with a smug smirk, but something akin to concern flashed in her eyes, so you tried again. “I was just thinking - Wouldn't you rather do this somewhere… nicer?” You winced, unsure how else to word it. Your small, shabby apartment was definitely a step - several dozen steps - down from her fucking Victorian mansion. 

Ellie paused, looking around at the small space before you. Her eyes lingered on the small TV, a dying plant in the corner, the pictures of your family and friends hanging on the walls. She took it in slowly, as though there were more to consider than a living room the size of her closet, before finally looking back down at you. 

Shrugging, she said, “I think it's nice,” and leaned down to kiss you again. 

Without any further protest, you tangled your fingers in Ellie's hair, using the leverage to pull her closer. When she gasped at the sting of it, you couldn't stop the buck of your hips, grinding down against her thigh, whimpering at the friction of denim between your legs. Ellie pressed her thigh further into you, smiling against your lips when you moaned; you could feel each jolt of electricity through the thin fabric of your shorts. 

Ellie hummed, tracing her tongue in a hot line down your jaw. She pressed a hard kiss to the hinge of your jaw and murmured, voice rough in your ear, “I need to know how else you taste.” 

You groaned, arching up into her. You felt, with a cold realization, her teeth against your skin, her fangs pressing at the soft swell of your throat. She didn’t press in hard enough to harm you - hard enough to feed on you - but just hard enough for you to feel the sting of it. You tilted your head back, granting her better access, and felt her grin against you, a short huff of laughter in your ear. 

“God, it’s like you want me to.” Her voice was the purr of a cat playing with its food. She released her vice grip on your hip, instead gliding her hand over your stomach, fingers dipping under the hem of your shirt. You cursed, shivering from more than just her cold skin on yours. You wanted to swallow her accompanying moan. “It’d be so easy just to sink my teeth in right,” she pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your pulse, and you were sure she could feel it jump beneath her lips, “here.” 

Ellie’s hand glided up your stomach, rucking up your shirt. Goosebumps raised across your skin, exposed to the chilly air of your apartment. She was right - some reckless, animalistic part of you wanted to know what it’d feel like. Some part of you wanted her to sink her teeth into you and take whatever she wanted.

”Can I?” Ellie murmured, breaking you from your thoughts. She had your shirt fisted in her hand, looking at you with raw want, and it made your head spin. You only lifted your arms in response, helping her tug your shirt over your head. 

You cursed, shielding your body, a shiver racking through your shoulders. “Fuck, it’s cold,” you laughed, wrinkling your nose. “You’re not exactly helping either. You’re like a fucking-“ 

You almost said vampire and bit your tongue around another mindless laugh. 

Ellie leaned back to take you in, her eyes raking over your body; you felt strangely like you were exposed beneath a magnifying glass. She gently pulled your hands away from your body, raising them above your head so she could see you, bare and vulnerable before her. She grasped your wrists in one hand, pinning them to the armrest above your head. She traced the other hand across your chest, a trail of goosebumps following her touch. 

“This is my favorite part, you know.” She still refused to speak any louder than a murmur, a low growl, as though to speak any loud would break whatever spell she had over you. You groaned when cold fingers skated over your nipple, pulling a smile to her lips. “Seeing someone squirming under me. Seeing their want, feeling it written across their body.” She leaned down over you, her lips barely brushing against yours, and whispered, “I can hear the pounding of your heart.” She pinched your nipple between her fingers, pulling a choked gasp from your chest. “I can hear it skip every time I touch you.” 

You tried to lift your head, wanting desperately to catch her lips, but she was too fast. She released your wrists, but you left them where they were, not quite registering the sudden freedom because her tongue - so hot compared to the rest of her - licked a slow line over your nipple, her fingers still toying with the other. Your whole body jolted, your chest lifting to meet her waiting mouth, and you felt her smile against your skin. 

Lifting her head, Ellie gave your nipple a last teasing pinch before letting her hand glide down your body. You whimpered when her fingers dipped just below your waistband and you couldn't even bring yourself to be embarrassed about it, because she was looking at you again with those dark, hungry eyes and you suddenly wanted nothing more than to be devoured. Ellie ran her hand over your waistband, fingers coming to grip your hip so tightly you were sure you’d have bruises there in the morning, branded with her fingerprints. 

She cursed, fingers tightening around your hips, pulling at you impatiently. “Fuck, come here.” 

Ellie guided you to sit up, maneuvering you so you were sitting straight, your feet planted firmly on the floor. She crawled off the couch, kneeling on the floor before you, her hands gently but firmly coaxing your knees apart. Pressing a hand to your chest, Ellie pushed you back to relax against the cushions before she settled on the floor between your legs. Your heart was pounding against your rib cage, and it made you dizzy knowing that she could hear it like music. 

Humming, Ellie leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh, smiling when you shivered. Your brain was distracted by the heat in your stomach, so you almost didn’t realize she was talking again: “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. Taking you home that night.” She pressed another kiss to your feverish skin, lips tracing higher up your thigh, her teeth grazing your skin enough to sting. “I can’t stop thinking about how you smelled - sinfully sweet. How you sounded, the flutter of your heart when I kissed you. The prettiest sounds spilled from your lips when I kissed your neck - you were practically begging me to bite you.” 

You gasped when she sank her teeth into the soft flesh of your thigh. She didn’t break your skin - didn’t drink from you - but when she pulled back you could see the red welt she had left behind. You hoped it would bruise by morning. 

“Stop talking,” you whined, reaching out to twist your fingers in her hair. She huffed a laugh against your skin when you tugged. “God, I didn’t know you’d be such a tease when I matched with you.” 

In response, Ellie brought a hand up to press her palm right between your legs. You gasped, the chill of her fingers through your thin shorts like a shot of electricity through you. Smiling, Elle grinded her palm against you, right where the fabric was the wettest. You had to bite your lip to stifle a moan. 

“I like to take my time,” Ellie said, raising an eyebrow at you. “I want to watch you come apart for me. And I will take,” she continued, pressing harder against you until you saw stars, “however long I want.” 

You cursed when she removed her hand, quickly replacing it with her mouth. Ellie pressed a kiss to the crease of your thigh, her tongue warm against the exposed skin. When you pulled at her hair, you could feel the vibration of her moans. She took the waistband of your shorts between her teeth, letting it snap back against your skin and chuckling when you jumped. 

“You smell so fucking good,” she said, voice muffled as she pressed a kiss right where you wanted her most. You tried to buck up into her, to chase the feeling of her mouth and her teeth, but she dug her fingers into the dip of your hipbones and held you in place. She breathed you in, and you could feel her warm breath fanning over you. Ellie groaned, so low it was nearly a growl, and said, “Fuck, I need to taste you.”

The only word you could make your mindless mouth say was Please as you lifted your hips, hastily helping Ellie shove your shorts and underwear down your legs. You had never before felt the rough fabric of your couch against your bare ass and you frankly weren’t sure how you felt about it, but that thought was promptly shoved from your mind because Ellie was hooking her arms under your legs, tugging you closer so your hips were right at the edge of the couch. You let your head fall back when she pressed a kiss to your pussy, just the barest brush of her lips. 

“Look at me,” Ellie said, her nails digging into your thighs. You lifted your head to look down at her, confused, and the sight of her kneeling between your legs made your stomach do an embarrassing flip. Your legs tried to close on instinct against the new wave of warmth between them, but Ellie’s hands hooked under your thighs kept them apart. 

Ellie looked up at you through her lashes, on her knees before you. Her eyes were impossibly dark, the green appearing nearly black. Her plush, pink lips were parted, short huffs of breath fanning against you - you couldn’t look away from those lips, imaging all the impossible things she could do to you. 

“Keep your eyes on me,” she murmured, holding your gaze - you couldn’t even think about looking away. “If you look away, I’ll stop. Understand?” She waited until you finally nodded - nothing more than a short jerk of your head - before she smiled. You barely heard her quiet “Good girl” before she pressed forward and licked a slow, hot line over you. 

Instinct wanted to let your head fall back again but, remembering her threat, you forced yourself to keep your eyes trained on Ellie, bearing witness to how she unraveled you. She held your hot gaze as she drew slow, torturous circles around your clit with her tongue, just barely brushing against where you needed her most. 

An embarrassing whine pulled at your throat as you tried desperately to press down against her mouth, but Ellie’s hands held you firmly in place. The only thing you could do was twist your fingers in her hair, tugging uselessly as you watched her take her goddamn time. She didn’t lie - she was going to take exactly as long as she wanted. 

“Oh, fuck.” You couldn't control the breathy moans spilling from your mouth when Ellie pressed the flat of her tongue against your pussy, licking a slow stripe up to your aching clit. Your fingers tightened in her hair, and you felt the vibration of her moan like a shot of electricity. Forgetting her demand entirely, you let your eyes flutter shut, your head falling back against the cushions. 

You whimpered pathetically when Ellie pulled away, the sudden loss of her mouth like a tangible ache. You raised your head, a complaint already on your tongue, but it died behind your teeth. Ellie looked up at you through her lashes, her hair slicked back from her forehead, and those perfectly parted lips shined wetly - slick with you. She untangled one hand from around your thigh, choosing instead to slide her fingers over your pussy. 

“Eyes on me, baby,” she said, and pressed two fingers inside you. 

You cursed, a high pitched moan hanging in the air before you. Your eyes wanted to roll back, but you blinked hard, forcing them to stay trained on Ellie. You couldn't bear the thought of her stopping again. 

Green eyes looked up at you from between your legs, shining dangerously. Pressing back in, she flicked her tongue over your clit before taking it into her mouth, your hips bucking when she sucked. You hooked your legs over her shoulders in a desperate attempt to pull her closer, your heels digging into her back; you used your grip on her hair to guide her exactly where you needed her, watching her eyes flutter as she groaned against you. 

Ellie curled her fingers inside you, rubbing circles over that soft spot that made you see stars. In some distant, hysteric part of your mind, you thought about how you were definitely being loud enough for your neighbors to hear you through your paper-thin walls, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care because she was pressing her tongue against your clit, her fingers inside of you moving to the same intoxicating beat. 

An overwhelming warmth was building up in your stomach, a heat that you were desperate to hang on to. You gripped Ellie’s hair, afraid she would pull away, because you couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling back, fluttering shut against the wave that crashed into you. She must have been feeling merciful, because she didn’t even slow when you let your head drop back, breathy moans just dripping from your lips like honey, slow and thick and impossibly sweet. You couldn’t think of anything past Ellie’s mouth and tongue and fingers, every sense you had honing in on the heat of her lips. You arched into her when you came, hips bucking against her mouth, chasing a high that would be all too easy to get addicted to. 

Ellie worked you through it, tracing gentle circles over your clit and drawing the sweetest whimpers from your lips. She didn’t stop until your vice grip on her hair finally released, your hips stilling as you slumped back against the cushions. She finally pulled away, leaning back against her heels, and when you looked down at her you nearly whimpered at the sight. Her hair was sticking up at odd angles from your incessant tugging, her lips swollen and shining. She licked her lips and you felt like you might die. 

“Fuck,” was all you could say, laughing weakly. You felt spent, your chest aching from the breath you couldn’t quite catch. 

Ellie hummed, tilting her head, that infuriating smirk back on her lips. She pushed herself up onto her knees, one hand snaking its way to your hip, and you realized the fingers on her other hand were still inside you. She held your gaze, raising her eyebrows as though looking for permission, before she slowly slid her fingers out of you, pausing for one maddening moment, before pressing them roughly back into you. 

“Fuck,” you said again, your back arching into her. Your fingers twisted in the cushions under you as though you needed something to hold onto. 

“God, look at you,” she murmured, pumping her fingers into you, hard and slow, pressing into the intoxicating spot inside you. “So fucking pretty. Your body’s practically begging for me.” 

Your mouth dropped open when her thumb found your clit, sliding over it in the same delicious rhythm of her fingers. You whimpered, body jolting when she leaned up just enough to take your nipple into her mouth, eyes crossing when she slammed into you harder. 

It didn’t take long for you to come again, your orgasm slamming into you with such force that sparks flashed in your eyes. You reached out to grip Ellie’s shoulder, nails digging into her skin as though to keep yourself grounded. You thought you cried her name, but you couldn’t be sure. 

She didn’t stop until you were twitching from the overstimulation, whimpering beneath her. Ellie released your nipple, pressing a gentle kiss to your breastbone as she slowly slid her fingers out of you. You clenched around the sudden emptiness, missing her fingers even though your pussy ached, overstimulated and spent. 

Ellie leaned back to look up at you, waiting until you met her blurry eyes before she slipped her fingers past her lips, sucking the digits into her mouth. Her eyes fluttered, tongue gathering every last drop of you. 

You groaned, watching as she slid her fingers slowly from her lips, before you grabbed her face and pulled her up into a kiss. You pressed your tongue past her lips, moaning at the sharp taste of you on her tongue. 

Ellie was laughing when she pulled away, taking your face in her hands. She looked up at you, those green eyes shining so brightly you felt like you had to look away. You held her gaze anyway, unwilling to look away from the sun. You weren’t sure what it meant - what any of this meant, really. You had let this strange girl into your apartment, knowing exactly what she was, and had let her unravel you on your gifted couch. You had gone on one date, and instead of finding somebody else to take home to her ridiculous Victorian home, she had sought you out. 

Honestly, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, she had said. 

You weren’t sure what any of it meant. But, honestly, you couldn’t bring yourself to care right now. 

“For the record,” Ellie said, pausing to press another long kiss to your lips; when she pulled away, she didn’t go far, her lips moving against yours, “that wasn’t any weird vampire allure either.” 

@macaroni676 @ellstronaut @elliewilliamsmiller0 @elliescoolerwife @letsreadsomesins-shallwe @peekayurple @liliflowers-blog @filtered-sunlight @hobbybound @kirammanss @elliespookie @starsfortaylor @ripelyswife @autisticintr0vert @g3latin @sunflarie @williamellieslilho @kl1q @livvieloveswomen

[with-my-calamitous-love]

IN PLAIN SIGHT YOU HID / BUT YOU ARE WHAT YOU DID

katsuki bakugou x reader

same concept as the boyfriend thoughts ❅ breakup version

inspired by the smallest man who ever lived

katsuki bakugou, who, towards the end, wonders if any of it was true. he tried to picture you, gazing at him starry eyed. but those days are gone, and his heart hurts thinking of this future.

katsuki bakugou, who swears that in some other universe, things are okay. who knows that somewhere else in the world, he’s sitting across from you on the kitchen table, going over the grocery list. who gives you more time and more space, and who actually listens to what you say.

katsuki bakugou, who’s got a reputation. who starts dating you when the everyone hated him, and you loved him. who breaks things off with everyone loving him, and losing you.

katsuki bakugou, who can’t control his temper anymore. who is always an asshole, but who snaps when someone breaths wrong. who misses you more than anything, and copes with it by making it everyone elses problem. who relies on kirishima at night to keep him sane, tearing his heart out to his best friend over the phone.

katsuki bakugou, who hung you on his wall and stabbed you with his push pins. who, in public, loved to show you off. who knew he was nothing like that in private. who knew you deserved so much better but was too selfish to wanna let you go. who wishes he could turn back time and be what you deserved.

katsuki bakugou, who keeps all of your photos on his phone. who doesn’t even dare deleting them. who avoids his camera roll like the god damn plague. who wants to cry when he finally does delete everything, staring at the 1,768 deleted photos in his recently deleted folder. who replays old voice mails. who sometimes calls you and listens to it, because he knows you won’t answer.

katsuki bakugou, who you’re sure was sent by someone who wanted you dead. who tells you that its for your own good, that he needs to think things through. he books you an uber back to your apartment, and who helps you pack your things. who tells you he’s too busy, that he has to put his job first. who you can’t even argue with.

katsuki bakugou, who seemed like he was always ready to break your heart. who slept with a gun underneath your bed. who once loved you so tenderly, so delicately, and who know acts like you don’t exist. who you can’t quite declassify, not even if you had 50 years. who makes you wonder if he’ll ever confess why he did it. good riddance.

katsuki bakugou, who you see with other people, in news articles and through whispers from your friends. who thinks its sexy now that its not forbidden. who uses meaningless sex to mask how badly he misses you. who sleeps next to a stranger but dreams of you.

katsuki bakugou, who hops on a plane to LA. he tells everyone its to follow in all might’s footsteps, and he’s not lying- but apart of it is to escape his pain. who sees your face everywhere. who smells your scent on his sweaters. who finds one of your hairties in his jeans pocket and holds onto it like a god damn lifeline.

katsuki bakugou, who deserves prison for what he’s done to you, but won’t serve time. who watches as the media tears you to shreds, blaming you for the breakup. who tries to stop it but is rendered powerless when he sees how the heartbreak has been turned into entertainment. who hates that all of this has happened because you loved him.

katsuki bakugou, who slips through the bars. who’s thumb hovers over your contact during a late night. who fucked up. who misses you and just wants to love you once more. who wants to change his prophecy, fearing that this might kill him. who misses you stronger than anything he’s ever felt.

katsuki bakugou, who you miss just as much. who you dream about every night. who still hurts you, even when its something small like his name brought up in conversation. who makes you wonder what went wrong. who crashes your parties and your rental cars just thinking about him.

katsuki bakugou, who doesn’t expect your forgiveness, and wants you to forget. who watches your life through the glass, over the years as you move on. who knows that nothing will change what he’s done, and has to lie in that bed. who knows he hasn’t wasted a single ounce of his love, because all of it is yours to keep. who is the smallest man who’s ever lived.

part 2 where he gets redemption? u guys lmk 🫧

[genericpuff]

I've been griping about the normalization of identity outing via social media for a while now. To put it simply, it's become almost some weird societal requirement that if you don't have every detail listed about yourself in your Twitter/FB/etc. bio, then it means you have "something to hide" or that you're not as "verifiable" because your account looks indistinct from that of a bot.

But that societal norm has really only benefited the people who profit off of that information in some way, whether it's through selling user data or through weaponizing details about a person against them.

I know that a lot of us love to use the fun little labels and acronyms in our bio that help others like us identify us as a 'safe person' or as someone who's in the same social/racial/identity groups as them. We're humans, we love to categorize things, it's in our nature (and it's fun!)

But if there's any time to start regulating that habit and challenging the norm that you're obligated to include all your personal info online - it's now.

There was a time when sock puppet accounts were expected and typical, not "suspicious".

There was a time when even age-sex-location was considered "too much information", but once it became the norm, we only EVER gave our personal information beyond generic ASL to people who we knew both online and in real life, or at the very least, people who we had known online for a significant enough amount of time that they had proved to be trustworthy (and even then, we didn't owe that information to anyone, ever; there are forum friends who I made online 10+ years ago and still talk to who do not know my personal information beyond broad strokes).

There was a time when simply being an avatar with a funny username was enough. And it still is enough, but massive platforms like Facebook and Twitter have been brainwashing us for years to believe that's not the case, under the guise of, "You wouldn't want to be dishonest, would you?" Through these same norms, we were led to believe that anime profile pictures are cringe, that having a fake online name is stupid, that the photos of you having fun at social events have to be taken JUST right otherwise you might imply to others that you're not actually having fun.

And considering how long these platforms have been around now, we have entire generations of children now who have been born and raised on that version of the ZuckMusk web, who have been taught that it "protects them" to express to everyone publicly their age, their school, their workplace, their family members, everything about themselves, because to not do so would be disingenuous.

None of this is to imply that the Internet was "safer" back in the day. I definitely should not have been on the Internet as much as I was when I was 13 in the late 2000's, it definitely did not benefit my brain development or my social skills. But the version of the Internet we currently exist in now is one that's been predicated on the false sense of security - the belief that if you're honest, everyone else has to be, too.

We've always had ways of identifying our safe people - by participating in the communities that we know are designed around our hobbies, our interests, our people. They might be small, they might not be as "cool" as the idea of netting yourself a big following of thousands of people, but they're also a lot safer and more genuine than that idealized following ever could be.

Don't feel pressured to include every bit of information about yourself in your bio. Even on Facebook, there's no rule that says you have to list your workplace, your school, your family members. There's no rule that says you have to list your personality type, queer labels, and neurodivergent disorders in your Twitter bio. There's no rule that you have to "prove" your life is real and fulfilled through the verification of photos, location tagging, and open-book sharing. If you share those photos, it should be because you genuinely want to share them, not because you feel some societal pressure to live up to others' expectations.

And I guarantee you, even your local mutuals on Facebook - your former classmates, family friends, distant relatives, coworkers, etc. - do not actually give that much of a damn about your personal life that they should be owed that much of a look into it on a daily basis. They've got their own shit going on, they literally do not need to know every detail about you.

I know it sounds scary. It also sounds kind of boring, when we've been used to a certain "way" of browsing and participating for years, that if we don't do so, it feels like being in the "out group" and that we're "breaking the rules". But I promise you, after spending over half my life online, those rules do not exist or benefit anyone who wouldn't profit off that information.

If you're wanting to learn how to branch off from major platforms like Facebook and Twitter and/or become more self-sufficient online, here are some guides to navigating the Internet like an old schooler that may help you!

FREE SITE BUILDER:

DIGITAL PIRACY 101:

(also in addition to everything mentioned here ^^^ they neglect to also mention Tor Browser which is a light and free-to-use browser software that allows you to browse anonymously; note that it's similar to a VPN in that it helps hide your identity online, HOWEVER it won't mask you from your ISP quite as effectively as a VPN, and if you sign into personal accounts with Tor, that's still going to obviously out you online lmao but I love using Tor for the odd time when I need to make a sock puppet for something and don't want it linked to my IP! and unlike a VPN, it's free to use!)

LEARN HOW TO USE RSS FEEDS:

People still use these! They're especially helpful for getting updates from your favorite pages and sites directly to your browser WITHOUT having to worry about stupid algorithm bullshit picking and choosing what you see. And many sites DO have RSS support once you know how to find it! (like adding in /rss at the end of a URL! Like this!)

FAKE EMAIL SERVICES:

LEARN HOW TO CODE IN HTML/CSS/JAVASCRIPT (AND MORE!):

DECENTRALIZED SOCIAL MEDIA PLATFORMS:

I hope this helps arm you with some new knowledge in how to navigate the Internet like a Certified Old Person™️(like meeee!) Make your secret alt blogs for besties! Make your formal Facebook accounts that are clean of personal information and present the most neutral, safe-for-work version of yourself and keep the fun stuff to the secret profiles and chat groups that are just for you and friends/family/etc!! It might be "inconvenient" to have multiple accounts for the same purpose, but it's also INCREDIBLY freeing and can make your online experience both safer and more enjoyable.

Being "less" of yourself online does not make you any less you. It is your identity - you do not owe any amount of it to anyone beyond yourself. And in times like these, your identity is your greatest asset. Protect it.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Cheerleaders + Football Team

The thing about cheerleaders and the infamous football team is that they’re quite accurate to their stereotypes

Now not every cheerleader team is run by a head girl who’s a massive bully 

Or that the football team is filled with dumb jocks that are just as violent if not worse

But they’re nothing to scoff at 

They’re beautiful

They’re athletic

And they're disciplined with confidence that comes with successful games and competitions

Such perks might give them quite a bit of power

Power that’s doubled when they’re working together

If you’d like to be happy you’re better off not figuring out just yet 

Since your arrival to the University, you’ve noticed more of your things have gone missing

Maybe this move made you more frazzled than you thought

Because you’ve found that you haven’t been able to keep friends like you used to

At least not without some help

“So you’re the new student, huh? Welcome to Energi University. As cheer captain, I’m really happy to welcome you finally!”

As she drags you along throughout your schedule, you’re waiting for the punch line

The moment she switches to embarrass you or smile coyly as she says something underhanded about your appearance

But she doesn’t 

Only twirling her hair as she asks you where you learned to glow like you do

You find it odd but you’re not complaining

Movies taught you that she and her team were top of the food chain 

so if they liked you enough maybe it’d trickle to some friends eventually

“Looking for a partner? Me too. How about we uh work together, freshie. If we finish before class ends you can have my varsity jacket and I can have yours.”

It seems it works as the beefy but beautiful captain of the football team partners up during chemistry

Between the two captains, you think you’re making progress

Finally beginning to make friends

But you couldn’t be farther from the truth

Already you were skipping right into the pitfall that was their playground—Energi University

It started with the cheerleader’s captain, gorgeous, rich, and with a serious attitude problem

She was making her daily rounds with her two main girls

‘Putting the worms in their place’ as she’d report to her team

Until she found something interesting 

a glasses-wearing nerd had been holding a file, scrolling through someone’s social page with such dedication they didn’t even realize they were being cornered

And its not just someone—you

while her girls were exploring the use of pins on the human body, she was going through this fairly thick file

A file all about you

Filled with hundreds of pictures of you some with consent some not

Extensive organized lists of your likes and dislikes

And a neat report on your current whereabouts and social circle

By the end of it, she was intrigued

She’s never been one for reading but she just can’t put it down

Having to be brought back into the real world when her girls are done playing 

“Already? Ugh, let’s go find the next one this little report of his might be worth selling to those stupid jocks.”

That’s just an excuse 

she’s combing over your photos again as she re-reads about the mundane drama in your life

“Babe, I thought you said you wanted to spend time with me? Not lose braincells studying!” 

Her boyfriend–captain of the football team is trying to draw her attention with kisses and inviting touches

But she’s just too focused

Eventually, he’s going to snatch it all away, taking a look at it

“Who’s this? Your latest victim?”

“Puhlease they don’t even know me…yet.”

The nights they spend together is searching you on socials as they filter through these words about your world

There’s just something about you that has them enraptured

For them it’s like when they first started dating, running off from their teams to gush about their latest finds about you

Texting all through the night about schemes to meet you

Whispering on the bus on their way to seasonal competitions

It isn’t long before the nosey teams start poking around

All it takes is a whispered mention of your name and they’re stalking your socials 

Some hire private investigators to tell all they can get their hands on

It’s like a virus how the whole team is eventually letting your distant lovely little life take up all of theirs 

At some point words and posts just aren’t enough

“Yo Cap, why don’t we just get them to come here?”

“Yeah! I know I can get my dad to extend a scholarship and dormitory if something happens at their old school.”

“Hmm, I do still have those lighter fluid canisters.”

“Oooh and I can get them out of the dorms for awhile!”

“Then  we can swoop in and be the knight’s of shining armor they’ll need!”

“C’mon, captain! Let’s bring them home, aren’t you tired of looking at them through the screen?”

“Don’t you think it’d boost our morale for the championship?”

“Yeah!!” Pleaassee!?”

What terrible captains they’d be if they let their teams down now

So the plan is set, you conveniently are stood up on a date when your dorm and campus is burnt down killing so many friends you made+

The mysterious fire destroying their security footage and all your belongings too 

Its natural you start looking for a new college, a safer option

“Hey (Y/n) why don’t you come to our next game? Forget about that horrible fire and cheer us on!”

“Wait how did you know–”

“Grapevine cutie! Now what do you say to a sleepover!?”

“Not after we do our victory party!”

“Oh, you’ll have to try our captain’s famous jello shot! It’s going to knock your clothes+ socks off.”

Both Captains will watch happily as the group swarms you 

Your questions about the slug you made plans with prior were drowned out in their shouting and giggling

Their goal wasn’t to make you worry 

After all, they had the power to dissolve all of that 

The Captains and their teams

“Now that we have them I don’t see any reason, why our teams won’t be planned for an all-around victory in the nationals.”

“Of course, though we could do it without them. Money and pure talent are a given for people like us.”

“Still there’s nothing wrong with sharing a good luck charm.”

“You are absolutely right..”

“Aren’t I always? That being said we’ll have to talk about the…hoarding issue.”

“Oh yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that. The next time one of your cheerleaders interrupts me, they’ll be dealing with more than broken legs.”

“And your players should know the next time they take my time with (Y/n) away they won’t just become paralyzed.”

[whorefordean]

Can you write some Dean Winchester head canons, preferably smutty ones if you’re up to it ☺️

for how often i think about being absolutely annihilated by this man, this took entirely too long to write. my apologies.

anywho... these are all actually factual because i say so!

p.s i apologize for this being so short :/

18+ mdni below the cut

- i stand by the fact that if you don't go on a hunt with dean, this man is sending dick pics or constantly asking you for nudes. usually, you send them just because it's fun, but sometimes you like to tease dean about it.

"but sweetheart, there's no telling how long this case is gonna take," he'll whine over the phone when sam leaves the room for a few hours to go interview a witness or something.

"dean, it's been less than twenty-four hours. i think you'll survive."

"what if i die from blue balls?"

"goodbye, dean."

"wait-" click. dean pouts when you end the call. it doesn't last long though because his phone chimes a few minutes later with a photo from you, followed by a text. "don't die on me."

he one thousand percent sends you a picture a few minutes later of his cum covered hand and cock.

————

-maybe i'm projecting but i think dean gets into the habit of waking you up in the middle of the night because he wakes up horny, like he has a wet dream about you, and bless his heart, he tries so hard to not wake you up. so he starts listing monsters in his head, and analyzes the lyrics to his favorite song. man even tries counting sheep just to distract himself.

but it's no use. so instead, dean starts rubbing your arm softly, cooing your name in an effort to wake you up. you might stir a little, just to get closer to him, but dean hisses when you toss your leg over his waist, brushing against his dick.

he's gripping your thigh tight and then he's biting down lightly on your shoulder, pulling you from your sleep. he almost feels bad for waking you up when you pout at him, but you shift against his cock again, making him groan as all his empathy is flying out the window.

"what's wrong, dean?" you're asking innocently while sitting up, still not having noticed his situation.

"fuck, sweetheart," he grunts in your ear. you look so confused but so pretty as dean stares up at you. before you can breathe he's shoving his lips onto yours and pulling you to sit on his lap. you moan when you feel his cock rubbing against your clothed pussy.

"fuck, dean, again?" you question, choking on a moan. it's the third time this week that he's woken you up like this.

"it's a wasted dream if it's not about me being buried deep inside you," he smirks proudly.

————

- dean finds out that you like listening to audio porn (in badjhur we trust) so he records some for you. finds out what your favorite tags are somehow and incorporates those into it. (the tongue clicks 🫣)

- dean is so used to slapping your ass at home that he will do it constantly in public. he doesn’t even smirk about it like he does at home. just stares at you with wide im sorry eyes while you glare at him with that so help me god look.

- dean is a munch. will spend all day buried between your thighs just because he can. you’re begging him to stop. whining bc it’s too much and he’s just all heavy breathing as he stares up at you. sweetheart please, i missed you. he’ll give the same excuse every time, even though he’s only been gone for maybe an hour to do a beer run.

- dean is soooo into face sitting. he’s definitely the type that will force you to actually sit because he does take personal offense if you hover.

- he's so into free use. you can't tell me different. getting to use and play with his sweetheart whenever he wants? say less.

- also he loves to cum inside you and make you cockwarm him after so none of it leaks out

-oh my god. he burns you a cd called "sexy time with my sweetheart." and now he refuses to listen to any of the songs on it outside of the bedroom because he's conditioned to get hard when he hears them.

[r0-boat]

Asmodeus as the father of your kids

I know canonically Asmodeus can't have kids let's just use our imaginations ✨

SFW! Suggestive! No sex but heavily suggestive because Asmodeus.

Cw: children, pregnancy, birth.

From pregnancy to delivery and after he is the most doting and gentle father. From rubbing your sore feet to helping you with anything you desire. He'll do it with a soft smile in his face and hearts in his eyes because he sees you as the most beautiful creature in all of hell, heaven and Earth.

The Great and feared Demon King of Lust is now wrapped around your little finger. Asmodeus worships the ground you walk on and worships you in other ways ;)

This is the same guy who said he'd clip your toenails for you. You won't be doing anything again once you're pregnant with that man's baby.

Mama/mother/mommy/ma is now your new nickname; He will never stop, even if you ask him to.

He definitely want more kids personally, but honestly 100% he would be okay with whatever number you pick of how many kids you want because he would just be happy to be a father again.

You don't need to do anything because he's already baby-proofed and bought everything. He is screaming with Joy as he brings out the old baby stuff he used to have from the first time he had kids. Yes, it might be a little old.... A couple of centuries, to be exact... But he is sure they are still working. You would not be using century-old baby stuff, But Asmodeus seems insistent; you try coaxing him to shop for the baby... Oh, that Got his attention.

Honestly, from how excited he was, it started to feel like he was the one having the baby and not you. He promises he'll be on his best behavior; absolutely no sexual shenanigans, as you not only go to the human world for shopping but also Tartaros.

"No, Asmodeus, we can't take this all back...*

"Yes, we can. I have the space, And I'm paying for it anyway~"

Your and your baby's health is his TOP priority. Anything that harms or stresses you in any way is considered the scum of the earth, and wants them eradicated this instant in 0.5 seconds.

He wants to do everything when it comes to baby stuff, everything baby showers, gender reveals, every and all baby trend imaginable that he has seen over the years but he has never gotten to do, from picking out a starter Pokémon plushie to trying out baby products on devil social media. Yeah, he's definitely going a little loonie. You might want to calm him down.

He never thought he'd feel this fuzzy feeling in his chest again, watching you cradle your newborn child in your arms. His arms shake, and there is anticipation and nervousness as you hand him his child. He looks at you with a pair of love as he kisses you and whispers, "Thank you."

Asmodeus probably has an entire list of baby names, but at the end of the day, He would ask you what You're going to name the child, and whatever name you pick, he would adore.

His descendants also know, And he desperately wants them to meet their new sibling.

If the kings thought he was annoying before talking about his descendants... OH MY GOD. Tapping his mouth shut won't stop him from talking about his child. He has five drives and two phones with pictures full of his newborn baby, some photos of your pregnancy, and photos of you cuddling and falling asleep with the baby in your arms.

Levi texting you: "Please, why did you make a baby with that insufferable fuck? I can't stand his ass. If he says one more thing about that stupid crotch fruit, I'm making you a widow and becoming the stepfather!"

Mammon spoils his kid with wealth. Asmodeus coddles his kid. No matter how old they grow, they will always be his little baby!

I like to think that there's some daughter or child who would be like the MC of Love Unholyc, where they enjoy spending their time inside playing video games and watching anime. Their last only shows when it's for fictional characters. Pouring all that lust into fan fiction, thirsty furry fan art, or a fictional character they're super obsessed with. But when it comes to the actual act itself, They would start covering their ears and eyes out of embarrassment. They're the person making the super-thirsty JJK edits.

Laughing my ass off imagining the family dynamic is being Saiki K. with his parents

Asmodeus: *tossing vegetables in a pan*

MC: Honey you don't have to be so rough~

Asmodeus: Oh I know you like it rough ;)

Asmo's!Kid: OH MY GOD WHYYY!??

[seungfl0wer]

Seungmin As Your Boyfriend

Bangchan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Han | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

Contains Smut 🩷

Did I indulge myself with this? Yes. Could have I written a novel? Yes I stopped myself before it got way too long lol.

-🩵

•Definitely shy when yall first start dating, cute little awkward thing he’d be.

•However after getting close he’s never shutting up now.

•Teasing him about how he went from barely talking or making eye contact.

•To this man who openly flirts with you in public.

•A true menace in disguise.

•Playful teasing all the time.

•But it’s a mutual thing.

•You stutter he’s making fun of you.

•He drops something you’re doing it right back.

•It’s honestly one of those things that makes him love you even more.

•Knowing you two can joke around like this, “you’re an asshole but you’re my asshole.”

•Ya’ll adopting a dog at some point too.

•I don’t make the rules.

•You gotta buy a puppy for your puppy right?

•He loves having you lying in his chest so he can sing to you.

•All cuddled up just listing to his beautiful voice.

•He gets so blushy when you compliment his voice too

•Oh god does he. He’ll try and hide his face but you can see it creep to his ears too.

•And if he’s lying on your lap?

•Play with his hair.

•Please. Just do it. This might be his favorite thing in the world.

•Just lying with you, as you play with his fluffy hair.

•This is his happy place, the place where all his stress disappears.

•He’s honestly just so soft for you.

•He’s so attentive and reads you really well.

•He can tell if you’re having a bad day even before telling him.

•He’ll grab your favorite things to make you feel better.

•He remembers a lot of things you’ve said.

•I feel like he’s that kinda guy that just remembers all the little details about what you like or have told him.

•He’ll stare with those big puppy dog eyes full of love.

•He’s honestly very enamored by you.

•How can someone be so perfect?

•Not to mention how can someone so perfect be his?

•Of course he’ll never admit this.

•Not saying he doesn’t do his share of mushy things.

•But he’s seungmin, he has to end the sweet convos with a dumb comment like “cause I’m the perfect boyfriend duh”

•Likes calm dates.

•Like going for coffee or to book stores.

•Will make forts in the living room to watch movies.

•I feel like he’s also one of those people who sends you flowers while you’re at work.

•Likes to write cute notes on them to get you all blushy at work.

•Probably has you in his phone as something like “My Dummy” or something like that.

•In such a loving way though.

•Also probably has the dumbest nicknames for you.

•His nicknames range from something cute like “puppy” to “my little dumpster fire”

•Hand holding always.

•Will pout when you let go “so what if our hands are sweaty”

•Loves PDA when it makes you all blushy.

•He’ll also do the whole “kiss you to shut you up”

•He really enjoys your kisses.

•Also will never admit how much it melts his heart seeing you in his hoodies.

•He’ll snap cute pictures of you in them.

•Has so many ugly photos of you in a locked folder so you can’t delete him.

•So he can “use them for black mail”

•He’s just a kind soul who’s a little rough around the edges but you are too.

•He’ll always make you feel loved and cared for. You’ll also always know what he says is his true feelings.

•He never sugar coats things and is always honest with you.

︵‿︵‿୨Smut Below୧‿︵‿︵

•This little ass is such a tease.

•Will put his hand on your thigh slowly sliding it up.

•He’ll pull you to his lap, gripping your hips as he pushes himself against you.

•Would definitely send you dirty texts in public to see you get all red.

•Whatever mood he’s in you’re getting a different person in bed.

•Some days he’s more aggressive than others.

•Pushing you up against the wall leaving hickeys all over your neck.

•His hand wrapped around your throat as he teases your sensitiveness.

•When he’s fucking you like this he’s like a dog in heat.

•Multiple rounds until you’re both spent.

•He’d love when you’d scratch his back so deep or bite his shoulder.

•Just a way to show others how good he fucks you.

•He’d definitely be doing the biting back, pulling your hair and spanking you.

•On the other hand he has those lazy days were it’s the most loving sex of your life

•It’s so sensual laying in bed while he’s whispering how much he loves you as he’s thrusting slowly into you.

•Touching your sensitiveness lazily. Just savoring every moment.

•I feel like he’d be a small bit possessive of you.

•So he’d probably say stuff like “You’re all mine” “No one else can make you feel this way”

•He’s more of a talking when it’s rough but the moans and groans he lets out.

•Especially when he’s just lost in you they’re just- beautiful?

•A horn dog honestly.

•Constantly just wants you.

•He’s so damn needy when he’s on tour too.

•Whines about how he needs you cause his hand doesn’t help.

•Aftercare is normally more quiet as he just holds you close kissing you softly.

•Rubbing your body as you both catch your breath.

•A small “you ok?” He’d say and if it’s a yes he just pulls you closer to him.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵