#but he ended up looking like a candy cane

[gladiatorcunt]

🪺 - # WINTERGREEN CANDY CANE !!

cw: canon typical mind games, baby trapping/pregnancy, manipulation, reader’s emotionally constipated, tashi’s injury, cunnilingus, cockwarming, tit fucking, established tashi & patrick (there’s no feelings between them but they stay together for reader in the beginning), lactation, not rlly smut focused despite the tags, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, ambiguous baby daddy (even though the ending can be read a certain way), one mention of patrick x art, afab reader, there’s a thought about you being injured but it’s not serious, small time skip (?) type thing and implied future pregnancies, purposefully vague/unreliable narrator vibes

patrick and art’s descriptions are heavily insp. by these posts

consider commissioning me or leaving me a tip if you enjoyed!

They never tell you that Tashi got injured on purpose. She’s too good to fall victim to what plagues so many athletes, but you don’t know that. You, her assumed rival and yet also the poster child of sportsmanship. Rivalry can bring out affection in people, it can highlight the need for someone who can understand you better than anyone else possibly could. You’ve never been anything but soft and sweet, but you can still summon the lightning streaking across the sky in your eyes when the game begins. There’s a glow around you that Tashi craves like a moth craves the shadow behind the light they fly into.

Tashi’s fall from her pedestal was painful and the hardest decision she’s ever made, but for the first time she made it for love. The set up was the easiest part, but now she has to actually make the serve. And she can’t do it alone, she’d be stupid to be blind to how her boyfriend and his best friend’s stares linger. What she and Patrick shared fizzled out a while ago, but if she lets him go, then that signs her up for a battle she’d rather avoid. Sometimes pleasure can be derived from depriving an animal of the chance to kill rather than setting it free and giving it an opportunity to go after you first.

Who knows, maybe someday you and her can share matching injuries.

Luckily, Patrick shares the same sentiment, quickly agreeing to the arrangement and plan when he visited prior to the injury. Art’s good at downplaying his toxicity, so Tashi wasn’t concerned about if he could play the part of a “worried friend”. You’ll bust into the office while she’s getting checked out to see Art there, and the infatuation you've been harboring for him will keep you in place. The queen on the chessboard who can’t really move however they please at all. Patrick will return in a “rush to see his girlfriend”, and you’ll be too intrinscingly intertwined in their web to cut yourself loose.

You weren’t the one she was playing against, but because of your “friendship” you’re there in the audience when it all goes down. The shock of something career ending happening to someone who had the most potential of anyone you’d ever seen is staggering.

You practically run to see if Tashi’s okay, and the disappointment that you might never play with her again is palpable. But she’ll be fine, you tell yourself, she has to be.

Art has already left by the time you get to the room she’s in, doing one of his parts of the plan and allowing Tashi to put everything into motion. He’s waiting nearby, running his hands through his hair as he imagines all the ways he can comfort you. Because you will need comforting later, and your future husband knows the best remedies for your incoming sadness.

You’re standing gobsmacked in front of her bandaged knee, a confirmation that this is really it. You shrug off your bag and let it slide down your arm to the cold floor. Your mouth opens but the words don’t come out. You struggle to know what to say as Tashi’s eyes meet yours.

“What am I supposed to do now, huh? My top competitors gone up and left me hanging.” You sigh, trying to keep the kicked puppy look out of your eyes.

She’s in pain and you’re making this about you. But if you and Tashi aren’t bound by Tennis, then what are you bound by. Your friendship doesn���t go beyond the court, so what do you even share now?

There’s no big declarations, no babbling where you word vomit about glad you are that she’s okay. Neither of you are those kinds of people. The energy in the air is dead, but the situation is too serious for awkward small talk. All you two can focus on is what’s ruined, but only one of you can also acknowledge what stands to be gained.

“Take a break, then.” She says plainly, a touch too proud to beg. “For me, I mean who else am I gonna let see me like this?”

That last is an attempt to lighten the mood, to use humor to point out how you’re truly the only person she’d let see her in tatters. Your eyes widen and you freeze, but then you take a seat next to the cot and take her hand. Your smile could destroy the sun, she thinks, and even if the earth was plunged into darkness you’d make it feel like there was nothing to be worried about at all.

“Okay, just for a little bit.” You chuckle and rub her shoulder delicately.

You don’t know what on earth possesses you to say it, but you realize that the absence of a challenge would drive you insane. There’s other reasons for it, ones you’re aware and ones you’re not. But you and Tashi have a way of saying just enough without ever needing to be raw and reveal what you really mean. If there’s a coherent meaning to be found.

“A little bit” ends up being forever, your pregnancies see to that.

Tashi makes Patrick and Art hinge a match solely on who’d get first crack at it; they play so savagely that you’d think they were stray dogs fighting over moldy scraps of food. She’s there when you get morning sickness and she sends the boys out with a list of what you’re currently craving at that moment. She’ll brush your hair and do your skincare for you, rubbing your belly while everyone’s asleep and telling you’re baby that she’d better be their favorite (after you of course).

Tashi takes pride in how she pleases your pussy when you’re too swollen to put in any of the work. She licks broad stripes up your soaked cunt, nipping at your clit and getting you to cream into her mouth in no time at all. She presses sweet little kisses up and down your folds, wishing you could see her love on your pussy properly. They’ve had competitions on who can make you squirt the fastest, and Tashi will never fail to mention that she’s never lost once.

Patrick gets really into cockwarming, getting you nice and settled in his lap. He has to take deep breaths so he doesn’t immediately start thrusting, he knows he has to think about the baby. But the pregnancy has made you impossibly tight, and your hormones make you go crazy for his sweat and natural musk. You’ll whine at him to hover over your head so you suck on his heavy balls. You nag about how he needs to take better care of himself, but you’ve grown to love swallowing his tangy load while you’re suffocating in his pubes.

When that happens depends on how long either of you can hold out, Patrick will tease you about how slutty you’ve been lately and squeeze your face with one hand. His cock will twitch inside of you, snug and strangled. He'll suck Art off till both of their lips are bleeding and you’ll motorboat Tashi’s tits to pass the time. You’ll start swiveling your hips somewhere along the way and his resolve will crumble like it never existed in the first place.

That’s for later though. He fastens the ugly neon cartoonish headphones over your belly and turns on the attached mic, doing storytime with the softest grin on his face.

Art on other hand likes fucking your leaking tits, he loves when drops of milk lube up the slide of his dick in the valley between them. He’ll thumb at your sensitive nipples and flick them, cooing at you when you moan and lap at his cockhead during the split second it reaches your mouths. He’ll look after your breasts outside of the bedroom. He’ll massage them and drain them for you if they’re feeling particularly sore, two of them will be latching on either tit while the third will be sucking on your tongue. His pecs bounce with every languid roll of his hips through the pocket his hands create, and he brings your hands up to them so you’ll grab on and leave scratches.

Art gives you more cum, his literal breeder balls are too big and full, and he’ll bet that he’ll give you more children. His thrusts have a certain punchy rhyme and rhythm to them while Patrick’s are sloppily enthusiastic and feral.

Art picks out supplies for the nursery with you, supporting your vision wholeheartedly and agreeing with every color and stuffed animal you choose. He and Patrick continue with their careers, and Tashi finds a way to coach them both, they need to support you and the new member of their slightly dysfunctional family. Tashi writes up the speech you give when you announce your early and extremely unexpected retirement, and she massages your feet when you collapse on the couch from the sheer emotional exhaustion. Art pecks each of your toes as she does so. Patrick plays tic tac toe against himself in the hollow of your throat.

And when the baby’s born and they can finally see who actually got you knocked up, Tashi says that maybe Patrick will get to be happy that he’s finally won something.

- faetreides 2024. do not repost, translate, or give my works to ai

[upsidedownwithsteve]

DAY ONE: Steve Harrington x fem!reader Steve was sure this was worse than his Scoops Ahoy uniform. It had to be. It had bells.  

Robin had simply rolled her eyes and told him to be grateful she’d managed to get them both something that paid this time of year, so Steve muttered something under his breath and jammed the hat on his head. 

He jingled when he walked. 

The green and red outfit was a kind of velvet, shorts above his thighs and striped tights that made his leg look like candy canes. The hat had a bell on the end of it and so did his fucking shoes, two gold balls  on the tips of toes and he sounded like a christmas carol as he called the next kid in line. 

“Santa’s ready to see you, buddy, just go through the curtain.”

Being one of the mall’s Christmas elves was definitely rock bottom. Steve was sure of it. But then you appeared above the crowd of kids crying and yelling for Santa Claus, shouldering past the tired looking parents. You had a few bags in one hand, filled with presents and wrapping paper, a takeaway cup of something hot and sweet in the other. 

“Please tell me that’s for me,” Steve mumbled appreciatively, groaning when you handed him the coffee. He took a sip, cheeks flushed pink, eyes rolling back in theatrical pleasure. “Have I told you how much I love you today?”

You grinned, nose still scrunching at his flirting, even years later. “You have, but I’m not opposed to hearing it again.”

Steve beamed, eyes brighter than they had been before you approached and he took you by the crook of your elbow, pulling you behind the ramshackle frame that ached as Santa’s grotto. He mouthed a quick plea to Robin, who merely sighed and took up the boy’s position at the front of the queue, doing her best to wrangle the kids. 

Now hidden, Steve ducked down to kiss at your cheek, feeling brave enough to catch the corner of your mouth. He tasted like coffee and vanilla and you hummed, accepting his thanks with the upturn of your face. 

“Bad day?” You pouted. 

“Kids are insane,” Steve huffed back. “And their moms are worse. Y’know one tried to pinch my butt?” 

You snorted, unable to take the boy seriously, not when his hat jingled as he shook his head. “My poor guy,” you soothed, biting back a grin. “It’s ’cause you’re such a hot elf.”

Steve made a face. “I don’t think that’s possible, it’s the hat, y’know? It’s ruining my hair, it’s so—”

You moved closer, tugging at one of the gold buttons that ran down the centre of Steve’s chest, your fingers slipping between. “Well, I like it. You look adorable.”

You watched Steve swallow, cheeks going pink, eyes darkening as his gaze slipped to your lips, to your hands and the way your fingers were trying to seek out the warm skin under his uniform. “You do?”

You nodded, grinning. 

“I mean, adorable wasn’t really what I was aiming for…”

“No?” You pressed yourself onto your toes, shopping bags crinkling between your knees and Steve’s. You found his lips for a kiss, a sweet one - soft and gentle, the slightest peck that Steve tried to chase. “I could just spend all day on your lap, telling you what I wanted for Christmas.”

Lips parting, Steve almost dropped his coffee. He coughed, cleared his throat once, twice and blinked away the spell you’d cast on him. He nodded vigorously, the little bell of the end of his hat tinkling rapidly. He was red in the cheeks, flushed to his fake, pointed ears and he looked like he was struggling to remember where he was. 

“You can- you can totally do that, yeah.”

“Yeah?” You asked through a laugh, brows raised. “Come see me after work?” You were already backing away, returning to the throng of kids that were pushing at Robin’s knees. 

Steve was still nodding, pushing a palm to his crotch, cheeks on fire. “Yeah, yeah, fuck— I’ll come round.”

You grinned, pleased with yourself. “Good. Bring the hat.”

[touyyes]

santa!toji who appears in your house, horny and desperate to find his ms. claus. just imagine you coming downstairs and you see him eating the cookies and milk, making him look up at you. knowing that he shouldn't fuck a mom while children are asleep, he ends up fucking you until he fills you up to the brim. the next morning, you don't have any recollection of the previous night's events — maybe you thought it was a dream, until you saw a note. santa!toji said that you're his ms. claus and will continue to come to your home and dick you down.

my brainrot for toji is so real 😩

didn't get to answer it before, but since its Christmas, im answering it now hehe

Santa! Toji who only visits the neighborhood milfs moms because even though tonight is his job to give presents to children, Santa needs a little gift of his own too. It's not easy working overtime!

Santa! Toji who stumbles upon you on his third home visit, seeing you clamber down the stairs from the sudden noise in your silk pajamas, catching him eating the cookies and milk you left for him

Santa! Toji who quickly gulps down half the milk at the sight of your arrival, imagining himself using the rest to pour down your tits that are currently peaking through your disheveled top

Santa! Toji who looks you up and down, taking in your form. 'No ring, huh?' He thinks. Even if you had one, he could care less but this just makes things a lot less of a hassle

Santa! Toji who beckons you over to him and you walk forward, in a trance, in a daze from your shock that Santa is a stupidly hot man that isn't like any of the beer bellied, crumb storing in his beard men that's advertised everywhere during the season

Santa! Toji who tells you to kneel down in front of him and you do, of course. Pushing his red slacks down to rest right underneath his balls as you lick his cock like a candy cane. And with how you think you're currently going insane 'I'm sucking Santa's dick oh my god', you think it does taste like a candy cane.

Santa! Toji who pulls you back up by the shoulders and leads you towards the couch, pushing the front of your hips to rest against the armrest, pulling your silk pajama pants down till they hang off your ankles. Calling you a slut for not wearing any panties, and how you must've prepared for his arrival

Santa! Toji who wastes no time coming face to face with your pussy and spreading your lips and folds open as he goes to town on your sweet taste

Santa! Toji who sucks and bites every surface of your ass cheeks, licks and swirls his tongue on every crevice of your pussy and ass. Savoring the flavor of you

Santa! Toji who thinks you're being such an obedient mommy for keeping your moans to a minimum to not wake your kids, finally granting you peace by the lining his cock up with your clenching hole and pushing in slowly. Complaining about how tight its grasp against his cock is but it won't be for long once he's done with you

Santa! Toji who puts you in 3 different positions on the couch, making you come for the 4th time tonight, and finally finishing off in your tight, wet throat with your head hanging upside down off the edge of the couch

Santa! Toji who quietly tucks you back in your bed after you passed out from exhaustion, taking care to put your pants back on and leaving a note for when you wake up: "Thank's for the cookies and milk, sweet thing."

[verstappen-cult]

SPENDING CHRISTMAS WITH THE BOYS | F1 GRID

★ — LANDO NORRIS (4)

lando enjoys the holidays for many reasons, and one of the main ones is how happy you always are. you take everything involving christmas very serious and he tries to help you as much as he can, but it’s lando, he can’t help but go up to santa at the mall, asking for what he wants for christmas as if he’s five years old, embarrassing you so much you don’t think you will ever be showing your face again. lando is awful at wrapping presents, but you take your time teaching him between giggles and kisses that taste like hot cocoa. and after a very stressful but fun day of shopping and wrapping presents, you end your day cuddle up in front the fireplace with hot drinks and a christmas movie.

★ — CHARLES LECLERC (16)

charles knows you love christmas, so you don’t even need to ask for him to know that as soon as the season starts, you want to go and see the christmas lights around the neighborhood. so he drives you for hours, heart melting at your happy face and tears in your eyes. you decorate the tree together while christmas songs play in the background, that soon turns into a karaoke fight. charles’ favorite part of decorating the house is definitely when he has to lift you up so you can hang up the ones that you can’t reach by your own. of course you have stairs that could easily help you do it, he just doesn’t tell you.

★ — OSCAR PIASTRI (81)

oscar loves you so, so much because if that weren’t the case, he definitely wouldn’t be wearing the matching sweaters you gifted him a few christmas ago. much less while shopping where everyone can recognize him. but really, oscar doesn’t care if a picture of him wearing an ugly bright-green grinch sweater goes viral as long as you keep smiling at him every time you turn around to show him something. and it all pays off when you arrive home, after a day full of activities, and he feels your arms wrapping around him as you tell him how grateful you are between kisses.

★ — MAX VERSTAPPEN (33/1)

max goes all out to make every christmas special and makes sure to have the days leading up to christmas free so you can go shopping together. what max loves the most is how you slip your hand inside his coat’s pocket so you can still hold hands. and when he sees all the ingredients to make a gingerbread house, of course he has to buy it. so when he comes home with a big smile you don’t hesitate to clean the kitchen and sit down to put it together. and it chaos, neither of you had done it before and it ends up being anything but a gingerbread house, but you love it, you made it together so it has a special place on the countertop where everyone can see it.

★ — ALEX ALBON (23)

every year since you and alex have together he takes you to an ice rink. you both have learn a lot of tricks that, of course, end up with you bumping into people and falling. it’s your favorite night in december where you can just be kids together. the night ends up with you two walking down the christmas fair, sharing candy canes and hot cocoa while arguing about what movie to watch that night. and if you find yourselves under a mistletoe making out, well, nobody needs to know that.

★ — DANIEL RICCIARDO (3)

daniel loves christmas in australia because he can be with you for a full month and scape the cold, too. all his family gets together on christmas eve and every year you are a bundle of nerves. they love you, you know that and daniel makes sure you remember, he also makes you forget all about nerves dragging you to the kitchen where the little ones are setting out all the snacks for santa and his reindeers. you finish with only half the cookies and carrots because daniel can’t help himself. after that all the adults gather in the living room to drink and chat. it’s a little different tradition, but you love it.

★ — MICK SCHUMACHER (47)

mick loves to do a mini photoshoot on christmas day with your matching pajamas because you two look so pretty in them, and needs it for his collection. then, sitting by the fireplace to exchange gifts before going your separate ways to spend christmas with your families. he always has that big and bright smile on his face that you love so much when it’s your turn to open your presents. you say your goodbyes outside in the snow, kissing and getting wet but not caring at all. you promise to see each other the next day to snuggle up in the couch and see your favorite holiday movies together.

© VERSTAPPEN-CULT ⎯ do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

[thestuffedalligator]

The rain was coming down like a giant was pissing on the city.

It was times like this that I wished I was human. Detectives love rain. They want the stuff to wash them away with the scum of the street.

I can’t stand water. Never touched the stuff.

My name is Ginger. Once upon a time I used to be the Gingerbread Man. Now I’m a private dick and I drink enough to be a rum cake.

It’s a hard job if you aren’t a tough cookie. I have all the requirements. I’m sugar and spice and a whole heaping of trouble.

I also got an umbrella I borrowed from the Wicked Witch of the West after a case last month. It helps on days like this.

The city was still sleeping like Snow White when I made my way to the crime scene. I turned into an alley and stepped into the remains of a pillow fight from hell. White feathers were scattered across the alley like a soggy snowfall. Blood mixed with rain and trickled down the cobblestones.

Gretel gave me a nod when I walked up. Gretel’s good people. She’s the only person I know who won’t try to eat me. “Thought you might want to see this, Ginger.”

“You’ve been stuffing pillows tonight, Gretel? It looks like Christmas in here.”

Gretel made a face and pointed a thumb to a lump under a tarp. “Then you just missed the Christmas dinner,” she said.

I took a look. There wasn’t much to see besides a greasy little pile of what you’d get if you ate a whole rotisserie chicken down to the bones.

The vic was Chicken Little. I knew the name. Little was a local nut who started a doomsday cult in the neighbourhood. I thought she’d be the kind of dame who’d get into trouble someday.

This wasn’t what I had in mind. Who’d want to whack a pamphlet thumper who thought the world was going to end anyways?

I picked up a rib. There were tiny scrapes scored across it in a line, like she’d been using it to count the days to oblivion.

I stared. “These are teeth marks, Gretel.”

I looked up. Gretel looked sick. That’s when I knew for sure.

“These are fox teeth, Gretel,” I said. “There’s a fox in the city.”

“Ginger, I think you should leave town.”

I flicked the rib back down into the pile of bones and pulled a stub of a candy cane cigar out of my trench coat pocket. “My brother has a house out in the country,” Gretel was saying. “He hates eating gingerbread as much as me. You’d be safe out there for a few days until we can track this fox down.”

I patted down my pockets for a light. Gretel took pity on me and knelt into the shade of the umbrella to light a match.

I puffed a few clouds of peppermint smoke. For a second it really was like Christmas in that alleyway.

I don’t care much for Christmas. Typically people look at me and think of dessert.

“Gretel, you’re good people,” I said. I didn’t realize that I hadn’t said it before. It felt like it had to be said. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“Jesus Christ, Ginger, you know how your story ends.”

“Yeah, well. We're all trying to run, run, run as fast as we can from who you are.” I took one last drag and turned out of the alley towards the soggy city. For once, I wished the rain could wash me away. “But eventually it catches up to us.”

[irisintheafterglow]

it's no secret that olympic athlete!sakusa despises parties. you don't make it easier on him, especially during the jackals' annual holiday party.

cw: a little suggestive toward the end but nothing explicit (he does things to me can you blame me)

he was in hell. the table was too loud, the people were too loud, and he couldn't find you. to make matters worse, his teammates seemed to be hellbent on catching you and him under the mistletoe.

"i swear, i'm going to shove a candy cane so far up your-"

"hey, no vulgarity! it's christmas," atsumu cuts in with a mischievous sparkle in his eye. the effects of the spiked eggnog in his cup were obvious, much to sakusa's disgust. "plus, objects shoved up our lovely posteriors would impede our mission for the night." snickers run through the remainder of the group, drowned out immediately by the chatter of the party. even though it was tradition and the most talked about event for months, it still didn't make the atmosphere any less hell-like.

"and then i'm going to hide your bodies so well, the police won't even know where to look," sakusa continues, sending them a glare over the rim of his soju bottle. his friends watch his eyes flick over the faces in the crowd, searching the shut-down hotel restaurant for whom they could only assume was you.

"yeah, yeah, then you'll be at our funerals with the fake tears running rampant and telling our mothers how great we were. we've heard this spiel before," bokuto dismisses with a wave of his hand and a knowing smirk on his face. "just you wait. you'll be thanking us later, lover boy."

"i hate you all," he replies, registering the journalist's approach seconds before she arrives at their table. "media," he warns quietly. "don't do anything dumb."

"evening, boys," she greets a split second later, shrewd eyes raking over the group. sakusa tries to keep his grimace off his face. the task proves difficult, though, when he can practically hear atsumu set his sights on charming her by the end of the night. "mind if i snap a picture of you all looking so handsome?" atsumu clumsily sputters out an answer, resting an arm around hinata's shoulders and forcefully pulling sakusa closer as bokuto smiles wide enough to cover the entire frame. a click and a familiar blinding flash later, the image is taken and he tenses in anticipation of the inevitable follow-up conversation. "so, how are you boys feeling tonight? enjoying the party?"

"we are," hinata answers before anyone can stop him from accepting the invitation for questions. "we were just talking about our plans for the rest of the evening."

"yep, involving sakusa and the mistletoe. he doesn't want us to say that, though," bokuto whispers at the same volume he normally speaks.

"oh? do tell more." her eyes shine like a piranha's and it makes sakusa's stomach turn. "who's the lucky lady? i'd love to get her side of all this, too." a clever batting of her eyelashes toward atsumu has him nearly crawling over the table to answer her.

"you're gonna love this, ma'am. the one sakusa's been after is-"

"this isn't a press event, so i'd advise you enjoy the rest of the festivities. thank you for your time," sakusa informs her flatly, much to the dismay of his teammates. he was never one for interviews, much less team ones, and catching him off-guard at a party was a surefire way of pissing him off. it was a golden opportunity for her, yes, but one more question out of her lipsticked mouth would force him to take a walk. "enjoy the party."

"wait, but-"

"omi? d'you mind walking me to the car real quick? i forgot my chapstick and the cold is making my lips dry." a gentle hand on sakusa's shoulder instantly eases any tension in his body and he hopes you can feel the gratitude radiating from him. it takes him a moment to collect himself enough to stand, curtly excuse himself from the table, and walk with you toward the door. his fingers intertwine with yours as your shoes click across the marble tiles of the hotel lobby, pulling you closer when you step into the winter night. "did you like my little rescue? i've been working on my acting skills," you ask with a small smile once you're finally away from prying eyes and nosy ears.

"i'll make space on the bookshelf for your academy award. and yes, more than you'll ever understand," he exhales, slowing your pace while he waves down the valet to retrieve his car. "i only wish you got there sooner."

"and caused more drama? i would think a volleyball player understands that timing is everything," you tease, brushing a stray curl from his face and running your thumb across his cheekbone. "i can't blame her, though. you do look ridiculously good tonight." his ears become the slightest shade pinker and you can't hide your giggle at his embarrassment. he never was the best with words, nor did he outwardly show a lot of emotion. but, after knowing him for so long, you found that the right words could have him in a puddle before you in less than a few sentences.

"speak for yourself," he counters in a tone low enough to give you goosebumps, ones that weren't from the chilly air. "it's been a struggle to keep my hands to myself for a few hours." his hand snakes across your lower back and grabs you by your waist, closing any remaining space between your bodies. he tracks the way your fingers dig around your bag, how you're conveniently avoiding his eyes just to drive him even more mad. "what're you doing, dove?"

"grabbing my chapstick," you reply nonchalantly, popping off the cap and swiping it across your bottom lip a few times. his eyes burn on your skin and you sneak a glance at his face to find his pupils blown to the size of ornaments. you were really testing his resolve tonight. "what, you really think i'd go anywhere without this?"

"no," he admits, eyeing his car as it pulled into the roundabout. "i knew that was bullshit from the moment you walked up to the table. the guys probably knew it, too."

"you think that lady knew it?"

"no way, unless hinata's lips got loose." on instinct, you step into the passenger's side after he opens the door.

"can you imagine the headline? 'stats analyst steals away star hitter during the middle of a holiday interview. dive into the rumors of sakusa's secret relationship!' i'd never hear the end of it," you chuckle once he slides into the driver's seat. with the heater blasted and the seat warmer turned all the way up, you suddenly remember why you're in the car in the first place. "wait, shouldn't we go back inside?"

"why should we?" a dangerous glint appears in your boyfriend's eyes and you're thankful for the darkness that hid your warming face. "i've got all i need right here." with one more glance to make sure all the windows were rolled up, he finally leans over and presses his lips to yours. with a sigh, you let his hand wander over your leg, lightly stopping its trajectory with a hum when it creeps closer to your inner thigh. "too much? we can go back in if you don't wanna bail yet."

"no, i'm okay. i know you're ready to go, too," you murmur. even before you were officially in a relationship, there existed a silent understanding that, when one of you got tired of socializing, the other would be their excuse to leave. "tell the boys we got food poisoning from shrimp cocktail."

"neither of us ate the shrimp cocktail."

"who's gonna know? don't you wanna go home?" the jerk of the key in the ignition is the answer you receive, followed by the engine roaring to life. "i'll consider that a yes. it's a shame i have to hang up this outfit early, though. i do like it a lot." you unsuccessfully attempt to fake a frown, pulling at the expensive fabric of your party clothes. it was half the truth, but the other half of the truth stayed unspoken while his hand laid itself back on your thigh as he left the hotel in the dust.

"don't worry," he mutters without taking his eyes of the road. "i'll help you take it off."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[bruisedboys]

Hi, your celly looks so fun! May I please request candy cane with either Finnick or Steve (whoever you're feeling) and face? I feel like you're so good at those moments of quiet intimacy and would love to see what you do with that. Ofc absolutely no worries if not, love you regardless!

(Also sorry if this sent more than once, my laptop died and I wasn't sure if it went through)

mae!! hi my lovely, I went with finnick for this one because I just couldn’t resist hehe. ily and thank u for the request x

join the celebration

prompt: sender turns receiver's face towards them.

finnick odair x fem!reader

“Let me look at you, honey.”

Finnick takes your face in one hand and turns you carefully to face him, your head propped up on two pillows. You’re feeling rather poorly, and his worried doting is a lot to manage, but you can’t deny that you’re really enjoying being looked after by him.

You meet his eyes over a sea of blankets and he grins, all lopsided and stunningly handsome. “There’s my pretty girl,” he says. “How’re you feeling, sweet thing?”

“Okay,” you say weakly. Better now he’s touching you like you’re made of starlight.

“Yeah?” He strokes your cheek. His fingers feel cool on your hot skin. “How’s your throat?”

“Not very good,” you admit. It aches when you swallow and it hurts to talk. It’s no use downplaying how you feel to Finnick. He knows when you’re lying and he’ll get it out of you in the end, anyway.

Finnick hums sympathetically. “I’m sorry, honey.” His fingers dip below your jaw and he presses gently against the side of your neck, presumably checking for swelling. He must find nothing, because he takes his hand back and smiles at you. His palm rests over your chest, warm and heavy. “Would you like me to make you another lemon and honey drink?”

“Yeah, please,” you nod. His hands feel nice on your aching body. You wonder if you can persuade him into cuddling you for the rest of the day. It wouldn’t be very hard to convince him, you think.

Finnick squeezes your shoulder gently. “Can I get you anything else?”

“A hug would be nice,” you suggest, hopeful in your miserable state.

Finnick visibly melts. He’s a mixture of utterly fond and very pitying when he says, “Of course, sweetheart.”

He bends at the waist to scoop you into a warm hug. You let him do most of the work, his arms working around your upper back to lift you very slightly off the mattress and into his chest. He’s warm, and he smells really nice. You bury your nose in the juncture between his shoulder and neck and breathe him in, wheedle your aching arms around his waist. He rubs your back, your skin prickling from his warmth.

“I’m sorry you’re feeling so awful,” he says softly. “Let me get you that drink, and then I’ll hug you all you want, okay?”

He’s so sweet on you. You wonder vaguely if his overbearing sweetness is what made you sick in the first place. You wouldn’t be surprised.

[lovebugism]

Okay, for your Blurbcember what about "Don't you think gingerbread houses with gingerbread men are kinda morbid? I mean, it's a house made out of flesh?" with Steve? And reader just pauses, bag of icing in hand while the gingerbread roof slowly slips off and stares at Steve like boy, I love you but what tf is in your eggnog?

you might be genius for this one, anon. hope u like it!! — you, the grump of the group, try hopelessly to decorate a gingerbread house with your perfectly ditzy bf (grump!reader, established relationship, fluff, 0.8k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

“We can’t decorate this if you keep eating all the candy. You know that, right?” Your voice comes in a concentrated, half-annoyed monotone. You’d be grumpier about it if you weren’t so focused. Now, you’re more worried about piping even shingles on the gingerbread roof than your boyfriend eating all of your supplies.

Steve stops chewing with a cheekful of something sugary. “Sorry,” he apologizes, mostly muffled.

You lay the piping bag on the tabletop and flash a deadpanned glance to the boy beside you. With his hair grown out and pushed over his head, chiseled jaw scruffy and unshaven, and ugly Christmas sweater pushed up to his elbows — you think he’s the coziest he’s ever looked. Far too pretty to be mad at.

“Can you hand me the gumdrops?”

He nods enthusiastically, happy to finally help in some way. He reaches to his left for the plastic bag of vividly colored candies. The bag is lighter than he expected, and much much emptier. It shouldn’t surprise him. He’s the one that ate them all.

“Sorry…” he repeats as he passes the bag to you. He gives you a crooked smile in return, an enthusiastic glimmer in the honey of his eye. “It looks really pretty so far, though!”

“Yeah, no thanks to you,” you murmur. 

Dustin told you that this was usually a team effort, a friendly competition between the whole group, but your fingers are the only ones cramping now. You delicately stick each gumdrop into place and try to ignore how tense your wrist has gotten. You figure the Henderson boy must be much of the same in the living room — he’s too much of a perfectionist for anything else.

“You’re the one that told me to stop helping!”

“‘Cause you almost broke the ceiling off, remember?”

“You underestimate my strength, sweetheart,” Steve argues, only half-joking. He leans his elbow on the table and props his scruffy chin on a balled-up fist. “My strong hands can crack that gingerbread, no problem.”

“Yeah. Okay,” you scoff.

“It doesn’t have to be perfect, okay? We just have to make it better than Dustin’s, because I do not want to spend another year with that little shit bragging about making the best house.”

Dustin Henderson is a little super genius, and Nancy, Robin, and Will are the judges this year. The odds of beating everyone’s favorite smartmouth aren’t exactly in your favor. You’re not the most creative person either, but you are pretty competitive. To a fault, some might say.

Honestly, the only reason you took this gig was because you wanted to spend more time with Steve. 

He doesn’t need to know that, though.

“Well, you didn’t have me a year ago, did you?” you quip, eyes still trained on the creation before you.

Steve grins so wide that it’s audible in his sickly sweet tone. “No. I didn’t. I got real lucky this go around, didn’t I?”

His smile grows when your face screws up in annoyance. “You’re disgusting…”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Hand me the candy canes,” you tell them. And then, because you’re trying to be nicer — “Please.”

With his lips quirked in a lopsided smile, he hands you the plastic bag. You stick a couple of the mini sticks into the makeshift yard, then break the ends off to use as windowsills. You put two of them together in a heart shape and stick them to the front of your house, just below the roof.

Steve’s chest swells with warmth. “Aw, that’s cute. You big softie.”

“Shut up…” you grumble.

“It’s a compliment,” the boy laughs, a sunshine sound that turns the kitchen golden. He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest. The bottom of his sweater lifts slightly, flashing a sliver of his stomach. “It’s real nice, you know, for a gingerbread house and everything.”

You squint at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, I mean— don’t you think gingerbread houses are kinda morbid? Like… It’s a house. Made out of their flesh.” He explains it all like it’s obvious, like it’s a thought he’s had a million times before. He scoffs out a laugh, amused by your visible confusion. “It’s kinda weird when you think about it.”

At a loss for words, you blink at the boy beside you. You don’t think you’ve ever been more dumbfounded — more in love with anybody else in the whole entire world.

Steve is so much different than you are. You’re sometimes too serious, easily annoyed, and a little bit gauche. And Steve is… like walking into the sun. He’s like walking into the sun for the very first time after a terribly long winter.

“What?” he says, chuckling at the silence. The plastic on the table crinkles audibly when he reaches for another gumdrop. He chucks three into his mouth at once, then remembers he isn’t supposed to be eating them at all. “Oh, shit— sorry, babe.”

“Did you spike the eggnog?” you blurt.

“No,” he scoffs, trying to get the candy out of the back of his teeth with his tongue.

You shake your head with a distant smile and try hopelessly to hide it from him. “You’re crazy,” you murmur under your breath.

Steve grins, lopsided and rosy, and with grains of sugar stuck to the corners of his mouth. “Yeah. For you.”

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

hi! could i request a rosa diaz fic where rosa has a really awful stomachache while she’s at the precinct, but she doesn’t want to admit she doesn't feel good. she keeps trying to work until reader eventually pulls her aside and rosa opens up and tells reader (rosa and reader aren’t dating yet). then reader brings her home and they get all cozy, and reader stays until rosa feels better. at the end rosa finally admits she likes reader and they kiss and its all very fluffy and sweet. tysm!!

Hey, friend! Hope this is what you were looking for. �� This one took me a little longer than usual, but I'm really pleased with how it turned out. And for all you Rosa Diaz fans, get ready because I've got a lot of Rosa requests in my inbox! —illdowhatiwantthanks

Just Playing

Rosa Diaz x fem!reader Warnings: explicit language, cops (duh, but they don't do any cop things), mentions of periods, period pain, implied sex Word count: 2.9k

Summary: You take Rosa back to her apartment after she has a rough day at work thanks to period pains. But you never could have seen where the evening would take you.

Rosa was nearly bent double as she stood at the podium, reading notes from a clipboard on a new drug ring they’d be investigating over the next several weeks. Her teeth were gritted, and she looked for all the world like she could kill someone. Well, she looked more like she could kill someone than usual.

You were good at reading Rosa, better than the rest of the squad. Maybe because your job allowed you more observation time; you were an officer, sure, but you didn’t carry a gun and you didn’t police the streets. You were their digital analyst, doing your own investigations online and finding information for the squad to use in their investigations. As a result, you had a lot of time in the precinct.

You were quieter than the others, more reserved, more observant. You knew that Jake got loud when he got insecure. You knew that simply telling Amy she was doing a good job was enough to stop a spiral in its tracks. You knew that Captain Holt had a fondness for candy canes, so you kept some in your desk drawer all year round, just to pull one out when it seemed like he needed a pick-me-up. But you knew Rosa best of all.

You’d be lying if you said you watched Rosa for solely platonic reasons. She was pretty. She was smart. She worked hard, and she cared about people–no matter how much she tried to act like she didn’t. Best of all, you could make her smile. No one else made her smile. After your first month or so on the job, she started talking to you. At first you were taken aback. Why was she being nice to you!? Why was she approaching you at all!? Rosa didn’t do small talk. She didn’t do politeness for the sake of being nice. It had to be that she actually liked you. You were flattered. As far as you could tell, Rosa didn’t like many people.

She especially didn’t like people today. She was clearly not okay. And you weren’t the only one who could tell.

“Any questions?” Rosa asked, finishing up her presentation, and pressing a hand over her abdomen.

Jake raised his hand and Rosa rolled her eyes.

“What, Jake?”

“Are you feeling okay?”

She glared at him. “Why, fuckface? Do I not look okay?”

“No, no!” he squeaked, hands up in defense. “You look great. Everything’s great. Carry on.”

You fiddled around in your bag, waiting for everyone else to leave the room before approaching Rosa, who leaned heavily on the podium, eyes closed.

You approached her cautiously. After all, Rosa was known for her explosive temper. She’d never exploded at you, but there was a first time for everything you supposed.

“Are you really?” you asked quietly.

“Hmm?” Rosa grumbled, inhaling sharply.

“Feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Her voice was decisive, rough.

You lifted your eyes to study her face. When she finally looked at you–her expression pained, exhausted, embarrassed–you knew. She was not okay. The fact that she’d let you see that she wasn’t okay underlined just how not okay she was.

“What’s going on?” Your voice was low, your posture casual so that no one observing would be able to tell you were concerned about her.

“Cramps.” Her cheeks reddened a bit, and you nodded. She didn’t need to say anything else. You got it. Any woman would get it.

“Why don’t you go home?” you suggested.

“I can’t,” she said tersely, glancing into the squad room to make sure no one was watching you two.

“Rosa,” you scolded her. “It’s not gonna kill you to go home an hour early.”

“No, I mean, I can’t.” She grabbed your arm, and gently pulled you aside to where no one could see. Your stomach did little somersaults, and you felt bad for getting excited when Rosa was clearly in pain. “I tried getting on my motorcycle. It felt like I was being stabbed in the fucking uterus. I’m just gonna call a cab once everyone else heads out.”

“Well, that’s dumb,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. Rosa raised her eyebrows at you. It’s true, you weren’t normally that blunt. “I’ll take you home. You shouldn’t have to stick around here just being in pain. That’s stupid.”

“No, Y/N, don’t need to do that. I’ll be fine.” She started walking away, and this time it was you who grabbed her.

“It’s fine, Rosa. I don’t mind. I’m done with my work for the day. We’re friends, right?”

Rosa looked at you long and hard, like she was thinking through a problem, before nodding thoughtfully. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re friends.”

“Okay, then.” You threw your bag over your shoulder. “This is what friends do.”

You started to walk out of the room, swinging your keys around your finger before stopping and turning back to Rosa. “It’ll, uh, be a minute, though. Just so you know. I parked… pretty far away.”

She grinned at you. “Yeah, I heard about that. You don’t use the precinct lot?”

“No! You have to pay for it! I’m not paying for parking at my job.”

“So where do you park then?” Rosa asked, sitting heavily in a chair and spinning.

You shrugged. “Wherever there’s street parking.”

“I’ll give it to you, Y/L/N,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re committed.”

You shot her an awkward, two-finger salute before walking out of the precinct and starting the several-block trek to your parked car.

You were kind of hanging out with Rosa tonight! Sure, she wasn’t feeling well. Sure, she might just be desperate for a ride home. But it counted… right? You’d parked just a block away from a bodega and silently thanked this morning’s parking gods. You picked up an assortment of things, some you knew Rosa liked, some that you’d want when you were on your period. And then, at the last moment as you waited to check out, you grabbed a bouquet of baby’s breath. It always made you feel better to have something pretty to look at. They might be a little too much, but it’s not like you’d gotten her roses or anything. Baby’s breath was a just friends flower? Right?

You threw your shopping bag in the backseat, then zoomed to the precinct for Rosa. You texted her, then waited, growing more nervous by the second. You’d never been alone with Rosa. Not like this, not in an enclosed space that wasn’t work. She sat with you at lunch sometimes or you went out for drinks with everyone after work, but this was different.

Pull yourself together, you thought, taking a deep breath as Rosa opened the passenger door and sat down heavily, leaning her head back.

“You alright?” you asked, trying to sound casual.

She nodded slowly. You waited for her to tell you where to go, but she was quiet.

“Uh… Rosa?”

She glanced at you.

“I kind of need to know where you live.”

Rosa seemed to think deeply about this, then leaned back and said, “Turn left up here. I’ll tell you where to go.”

You put the car in drive and simply followed.

When you pulled up next to Rosa’s building–a pre-war dairy refurbished as lofts–you followed her in quietly, stunned into silence, the bag of bodega groceries swinging at your wrist.

The elevator took you up to the fifth floor, and you couldn’t help but gape at her huge windows, the sealed concrete floor, the top-of-the-line appliances and expensive furniture.

You set the grocery bag on the kitchen island and took it all in, eyes wide.

“No offense or anything, but… how the hell do you live here on a police officer’s salary?”

“I don’t,” Rosa said bluntly, opening her medicine cabinet and rustling around. “I flip old cars in my spare time.”

“Oh.” You were glad Rosa was turned away from you so she couldn’t see you flush bright red at the thought of how she’d look fixing a car.

“Fuck!” she exclaimed, slamming the cabinet shut. You jumped. “I’m out of–”

“Midol?” you asked, pulling a series of medicines out of your bag. “Tylenol? Advil? Aleve? Pick your poison.”

Rosa looked at the pills, grabbing the Midol, then staring at you so hard you blushed and turned away, rummaging through the grocery bag. You couldn’t see it, but her eyes softened as she watched you.

“You brought me painkillers?” she asked, a faint smile playing on her lips.

“Mmhm.” You nodded, still avoiding her eyes. “And…” You pulled things out of the bag like it was a magic hat. “Takis, Hot Cheetos, chocolate, a frozen pizza, and Moose Tracks.”

Now it was Rosa’s turn to gape at you. But somehow that made you blush all the more. “I just…” You stumbled over your words. “I always like pizza and chocolate when I’m on my period. And I know you love Takis and Hot Cheetos. And you always have Moose Tracks in the freezer at work.” When Rosa didn’t respond, you kept talking, trying to fill the silence. “It’s no big deal or anything. I didn’t want you to have to go out later or–”

“You noticed my Moose Tracks?” she finally said, smirking, her eyes twinkling.

“Well, yeah.” You shrugged. “I notice a lot.”

“Uh-huh…” Rosa mumbled, watching you flutter around the kitchen, opening cabinet after cabinet to find a glass and get her and yourself some water. You were so nervous your mouth was dry.

“Go lay down or something!” you told her, flustered. “I’ll bring you some water. Do you want me to put the pizza in the oven for you?”

“That depends, will you stay and eat it with me?”

Rosa seemed to have transformed all of a sudden. She’d been largely preoccupied with her pain before, and you could tell she was still feeling it, but it was like a switch had been flipped. Where before she’d been, if not distant, just vaguely nice, now she seemed smug, confident, almost… flirty? As if she had something on you. You desperately hoped that what she had on you was not the fact that you had a massive crush on her.

“Uh… s-sure,” you mumbled. “If you want.”

“I do,” she said, flopping onto the couch and covering herself with a blanket. You brought her a glass of water so she could take her pills, then preheated the oven, fishing a sheet pan out of a cabinet and placing the pizza in to bake.

You sat down on the opposite side of the couch from Rosa, inching to the very edge, and trying your very best not to touch her. You never, ever wanted to make her feel uncomfortable by touching her, even by accident. But she spread out and pressed her feet against your thighs, making your breath catch in your throat.

She scrolled through shows on her TV, then asked you abruptly, “You ever watch Drake’s Hollow?”

You shook your head.

“You should. We could now, if you wanted to.”

“Yeah, okay,” you said encouragingly, willing to watch literally anything with Rosa.

“We’ll start at the beginning so you know what’s going on,” she said, searching for the right episode. “It’s not good. It’s like… the McDonald’s of television.”

You grinned. “Like the frozen pizza of television.”

“Yeah.” She smiled at you. “But sometimes it’s all you want, you know?”

Rosa was right. Drake’s Hollow was not good. The acting was awful. The plot? Melodramatic and borderline ridiculous. But it was fun. You loved to gasp at the hilarious twists and turns. The melodramatic, lovelorn speeches of the characters. To yell, “Boo! Dump his ass!” at the screen when the husband was revealed to be cheating on the wife.

For her part, Rosa loved watching you watch Drake’s Hollow. But you wouldn’t know that. You could hardly believe your luck that you were here. In Rosa’s apartment. With Rosa next to you, so close she was touching you! That you were watching this stupid, stupid show together and making a frozen pizza. You were on cloud nine. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at her, so scared were you that you’d fumble and get awkward again and ruin everything.

“Bathroom?” you asked, standing during a commercial break.

“Down the hall to the right,” Rosa said, pointing behind her.

You stared at yourself in the mirror as you washed your hands, patting cool water on your cheeks in hopes that it’d bring down the flush that hadn’t left since the moment you’d stepped foot in Rosa’s house. You heard the oven timer go off and quickly dried your hands.

You walked into the kitchen, and your stomach dropped all the way to the floor. The pizza was out of the oven, cooling. And Rosa was standing at the island, pulling the slightly rumpled bouquet of baby’s breath out of the grocery bag. The bouquet you’d foregone, thinking it probably was too much.

She looked at you, and you looked away.

“Did you buy me flowers?” she asked.

Fuck, you thought to yourself. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Yep,” you sighed, trying to sound nonchalant. “I just… like to have something pretty to look at. You know, when I’m… on my period.”

It was a ridiculous excuse. You knew it. Rosa almost certainly knew it. She wasn’t stupid. You exhaled heavily and slapped a few slices of pizza onto a plate, hoping that a return to the couch, to Drake’s Hollow, would return everything else to normal, too.

You heard Rosa fill a vase with water, heard her arrange the flowers before grabbing her own pizza. Be cool, be cool, be cool, you told yourself as she sat back down, setting her plate next to yours on the coffee table.

You avoided her eyes, waiting for her to start the show again. You got more and more nervous the longer the silence went on, the longer the paused screen vibrated on the TV.

“Y/N,” Rosa finally said, her voice softer than normal.

Fuck, you cursed internally. You’d fucked it up. She knew. She knew and she didn’t feel the same because of course she didn’t, and now you’d ruined everything. It was all going to be awkward and weird now. Fuck.

“Flowers aren’t a thing that friends do.”

You let out a shaky breath. “They… could be?” you ventured, knowing as soon as it left your mouth that it wasn’t true, not for you and her.

She carefully slid her hand into yours, and you felt your heart stop.

“And what if I wanted to give you flowers?” she asked.

You blinked, not quite believing your ears, and turned to look at Rosa. Her face was light, playful, so much softer than usual. Was she teasing you? Tricking you? Making fun of you? Surely, she wasn’t that mean. She could be ruthless, sure. But she wasn’t cruel. Not to people she cared about it.

She gently grasped your chin, and your stomach did flips. Then she leaned forward and she kissed you. Just like that. So simple, so easy, so soft. Softer than you’d ever imagined Rosa to be. A softness she probably didn’t let many people see. She was so gentle, her fingers light as feathers against the skin of your face, her lips barely grazing yours, as if to ask for permission.

When she pulled away, you were breathless, even though she’d barely touched you, barely pressed her lips to yours. You just looked at each other for a moment, as if to gauge the other, as if to ask if this was real. But you–you’d wanted to kiss Rosa since the day you met her. The fact that she wanted to kiss you? Unbelievable. Beyond your wildest imagination. Rosa fucking Diaz. Absolute enigma. Terror of the Brooklyn 99. Wanted to kiss you.

Before you could even fully register what you were doing, you’d surged forward, grasping her face in your hands, pressing your lips to hers with all the fervor of an unrequited love that had, against all odds, become requited. She laughed, smiling into the kiss, pressing her hands against your collarbone, curling them around your neck.

When you finally ran out of breath, you leaned back, grinning, hand pressed to your forehead. Rosa laughed again, and you turned to her.

“This isn’t a prank, right?” you asked.

“No!” she scoffed, grabbing a slice of pizza and taking a bite. “I’m not that mean.”

You raised your eyebrows.

“Okay, I wouldn’t be that mean to you.”

“Wow,” you smirked, taking a bite of your own slice. “You really do like me.”

“Shut up, nerd,” she grumbled, mouth full, shoving her shoulder into you.

But you could tell by the way her eyes sparkled, by the way the corners of her mouth turned up, by the way she let herself linger next to you, skin touching, that she was playing when she called you names.

But she wasn’t playing when she kissed you. Wasn’t playing when she turned Drake’s Hollow back on and tentatively tucked herself into your side. And she certainly wasn’t playing when the pizza was done, the ice cream eaten, the show over, the night late. When she said, “You might as well stay if you want to. You’ll have to drive me in the morning anyway,” then stood and walked to her bedroom, giving you a look that let you know you were meant to follow. And you did.

[whorekneecentral]

Ho Ho Hoe

Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader

Warnings: last minute packing, some friendly teasing, christmas related underwear, cheesy pick up lines sorta, oliver takes the blame, christian is just as cheesy, oral (m!receiving and f!receiving),dom!chris for a second, face sitting, praise kink from chris's end.

Word Count: 2,033

Author's Note: when I was plotting these out, pookie said this one suited chris and I couldn't agree more. he's so dorky, it fits him to a t lmao

merry smutmas series

--

You find a pair of Christmas boxers in Christian’s suitcase and decide to tease him about it. 

The Pulisic family had been celebrating the holidays in Florida every year and this year you'd be joining them.

You are an instant shoo in from the moment you began dating Christian five years ago. Both his sister and his mother saw how quickly you adapted to their family and to their traditions, which is something that they really, truly loved about you. Along the way, you sprinkled in a few of your old little traditions that you did with your family.

Last year, you and Christian had spent the holidays with your family. The two of you rotate every year between the holidays, that way the families don't feel you're picking one over the other.

You were on the floor of your bedroom as you tried to re-pack the suitcase that Christian had 'packed', but really just tossed everything into. You'd be flying from Milan to Florida in 3 days so you were trying to get as much as you could done.

He was on his way home from training, his phone in the little holder as he called you.

"You're the fucking worst at packing," you start the moment you answer the phone. Christian laughs, "hello to you too, sweetheart. Why am I getting yelled at?"

You huff, the phone was on speaker and rested on your thigh as you refolded the clothes. "I have to repack the suitcase, not like you even packed it to begin with."

"I did too! I put everything in!"

"Yeah, just tossed it in. How are you meant to find anything or even fit everything in like this?"

You can already tell he's rolling his eyes. "Anyways," he starts, "did you eat? shall I pick up dinner?"

"Yeah, please." You smiled, folding the boxers you found and put them in a nice pile. You listened to your boyfriend rattle on the diner options when you fished out the bright green boxers with candy canes on it from the suitcase.

It struck you as odd, Christian wasn't one for bright colours; he stuck to the usual colours of navy blue, black and grey.

"Yeah sure, pasta's fine." You tell him, setting the boxers to the side. "See you in a bit."

You continue to repack the suitcase, folding the clothes neatly and tightly to fit as much as you can into the suitcase. It was maybe half an hour later when the front door opens and you hear your boyfriend shouting for you.

"In the bedroom!" You shouted back.

Christian smiles at you when he finds you, "hi beautiful."

"Hello you, how was training?"

"Good, tiring." He says, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking down at you on the floor. "How's the packing going?"

"Good, tiring." You tell him, "I didn't know you were a fan of bright colours though."

Christian raises an eyebrow, looking at you a bit confused. "What are you talking about?"

You hold up the bright green boxers with candy canes on it, "where'd you get these?" You asked, giggling. Christian's face goes bright red, his cheeks and the tips of his ears as red as a McIntosh apple.

"I.. I bought them as a joke. Oliver said he bought a pair last year and his wife loved them."

"So now you're getting sex advice from Oliver?"

"What?! No!"

You laughed, your boyfriend's face still as red as it was before, maybe never more. "Well, they made me laugh."

Chris smiles, "did you see what they say?"

You looked closer at the boxers, between the candy canes says 'suck me like a candy cane.' You think you laughed so hard you snorted, Christian smiles at your reaction.

"You're so unserious." You tossed the boxers at him, making him laugh. Christian kisses the top of your head, dropping the boxers on the bed. "Dinner's on the table, I'm gonna take a shower."

Holding onto Christian's legs, you pull yourself up. "You're not hungry?"

"I'll eat later, go on before it gets cold." Your boyfriend kisses you softly and lets you go.

Dinner was eaten quietly, christian taking his sweet time into the shower before joining you nearly an hour later, shirtless and sweatpants handing off his hips.

Thumb pushing against your teeth, you hummed as you watched him plop himself down on the couch next to you.

"What?" He asks, arm stretched over the backrest of the couch.

"Nothing," you smiled, scooting closer to your boyfriend.

Your head rested on his chest, the two of you watching the cheesy holiday movie you had put on. An arm stretched over his abs, fingers delicately tracing over the indented lines along his skin, moving over to his forearm. His tiger tattoo has always been one of your favourites, your nail pressing into the ink as you moved from one detail to the other.

Christian notices your hand, not thinking much of it; this was a normal thing for you two, your hands were always on him. It wasn't until he felt your hand move from his arm to his hip, fingers creeping closer to the hem of his sweatpants that he stopped you.

"Don't even think about it." His hand catches you, hand wrapped around your wrist.

You huffed. "Why not?"

"I'm trying to watch the movie."

"They all end the same way, a kiss in the snow." You tell him and Christian rolls his eyes, "way to ruin it for me."

You press your lips together, biting back a laugh. Christian lets go to your hand, letting it rest over his lap. That was his mistake. Your hands wander, as they always do, rubbing along his thigh and up to the bulge in his pants.

As much as he tries to ignore you, he can't. Christian's head tips back into the couch, a soft groan slipping past his lips.

"What happened to don't even think about it?" You teased, moving to sit between his legs. Christian rolls his eyes, dropping a pillow onto the floor for you.

He mumbles, telling you to shut up as you reach for the waistband of his sweats, pulling them down. The last thing you were expecting to come face to face with was bright green boxers with candy canes on them.

"You're fucking joking," you laughed, looking up at him. "They were already on the bed, babe. What was I supposed to do?"

"Get a pair from the drawer?" You suggested, laughing at him. "I cannot take you seriously."

Christian takes matters into his own hands, taking them off and tossing it behind him somewhere. "Okay gone now, c'mon."

"You're so demanding," you laughed.

He nods, giving you a tight lipped smile watching as you lean forward with your mouth open, tongue out and Christian bites back a groan; doesn’t matter how many times he sees you like that, you look perfect every time. 

No matter how much he tries, he can’t pull his eyes away from you. His head tilting back at the feeling of your mouth on him, your hand wrapped around what can’t fit. 

Your tongue swirled around the tip, hand slowing up and down the length of his cock in the meantime. 

Chris's hand tangles in your hair, holding it away from your face as you take all of him in your mouth. He sighs, a string of explicits slipping past his lips. 

You glance up at him through your lashes and that was enough to make him cum but he held off, because he knew you’d tease him if he did even if you did tell him it was okay. 

“Made just for me, weren't you?” He mumbles, his hand rests on your jaw. His hand turns over and you feel his knuckles brush along your cheek. “Like being on your knees for me, hm? Good girl.” 

The praise hits you straight in the core, only making you go faster.

Your cheeks hollow as you bob your head up and down. Christian's hips buck, your nose brushing against him. 

He tugs on your hair a little, taking control of your movements before pushing you down all the way, only stopping until he hears you gag slightly. His head falls back against the cushions, your name along with a few other words tumble out as you glance up at your boyfriend once more. 

You can feel his cum on your tongue before you pull off of him with a pop. 

Still on your knees, your eyes are on the man as he takes a few breaths. His hand caresses your jaw for a few moments before he pulls you up and onto his lap. 

"I love you, you know that?" He whispers, nose pressed into your temple. You hum, "you've gotta get rid of those."

"What?" He asks, looking at you.

You point to the green boxers that were on the floor. Christian laughs, "yeah okay, babe. Whatever you say."

Your boyfriend falls flat against the couch, laying down and you look at him a bit confused, "was it that good? Got you exhausted now?"

Christian rolls his eyes playfully, pulling you to lay flat against him. He looks at you, there's a glint in his eyes, something you only saw when he was up to something.

"What?"

"Sit on my face."

Your eyes widen, sitting up on his lap. "What?"

His brows furrow, propping himself up on his elbows to look at you as he's unsure what the confusion was about. "Did you not hear me?" He asks, "I said sit on my face."

"What? Why ?"

"I'm returning the favour, now come on."

Christian lays back and you’re still on his lap. “Come on then,” he smacks the back of your thigh lightly. “Come sit.” 

You find yourself wiggling out of your shorts as you move back to sit on his face. Thighs on either side of his head, you weren't fully on his face but his hands grip the back of your thighs, pulling you further down. 

“I told you sit so fucking sit.” He mumbles from under you. 

His large hands rested on the back of your thigh, pulling you down flat against his face, his tongue pressed against your slit. 

Your body rocks, leaning forwards and your fingers tangle in his short, curly hair. 

Christian's tongue curled upwards, brushing against your clit and you tug on his hair, something incoherent meets his ears - partly because he was focused on what he was doing but also because your thighs were squishing his face. 

"Chris," you mumbled, your chest heaving while you tug on his hair to get him to do that again. "Do that- yeah fuck."

His tongue doing figure eights over your clit. 

The grip on your thighs would leave marks as would the stubble coming on along his jaw that was scratching at the inside of your thighs. He rocked you a bit, his nose brushing against your clit, his tongue moving down to lap over your cunt. 

He glances up, his eyes fixed on your hand on your tit, head tossed back and mouth open. His name slips past your lips like a prayer. 

“You're so beautiful,” he mumbles against you, nose brushing at your clit as you grind down on his face again. 

Your legs shake for a moment, your grinding halts as you cum on his tongue. Christian's hands hold you in place, his tongue still lapping over your clit and his lips replace them a moment later. 

He lets you shift off his face in your own time, laying down on his chest. Your chin rests on his chest as you look up at him, your fingers dragging across his lips. He smiles, letting you slip your finger into his mouth, biting it softly before you pull it away.

His hand resting on your lower back as you reach up to kiss him. 

You can taste yourself on his lips and your hand on his jaw, rubbing along the stubble in his jaw. "See if I had bought these boxers, you wouldn't have gotten all that."

"Untrue, you can't keep your hands off of me." You reminded him, the man's cheeks now red and he laughs. "Yeah, you're right." He whispers, kissing you.

---

taglist: @nosugarallspice  @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16  @books-and-netflix-pls  @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade  @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @trentsfav @trentsmyfave @noturbabe22

[bellabean24]

Ex-Husband!Nanami Kento coming over to your house (like he does everyday) to help you put your Christmas decorations up

Ex-Husband!Nanami Kento who watches you and your daughter look for the Christmas blow ups in the garage

Ex-Husband!Nanami Kento who you “force” to go on the roof and put the lights up

Ex-Husband!Nanami Kento who is a bit caution when you tell him to go up on the roof thinking you won’t be able to hold the ladder

“Sweetheart you sure you can hold this ladder up,” Nanami says as he fixes the ladder to lean on the roof lights already in his hand, “Yes I can hold it Kento I’ve done it before.” Rolling eyes at him you move to hold the ladder putting your weight on to hold it steady, “hurry Kento,” Nanami chuckles at your pushiness.

Ex-Husband!Nanami Kento who hears is daughter let out a loud gasp as she watches her daddy climb up the ladder,

“Oh no, daddy is gonna fall,” Lola says who brings her little hands to cover her face so she doesn’t have to watch, “Daddy is gonna be fine Princess,” both you and Nanami let out at the same time. Lola peaks through her fingers watching Nanami put the lights on the roof carefully so he doesn’t fall, “You sure?” Her little voice full of worry has both you and Nanami’s heart gushing, “Yes Lola he’s gonna be just fine.” Lola nods her head taking her hands off her face then running to the garage to grab more Christmas blow ups.

Ex-Husband!Nanami Kento who finishes the lights fairly quickly and gets down from the roof putting the ladder back where it belongs then he helps you and Lola with the blow ups and candy canes you found deep in the garage

Ex-Husband!Nanami Kento who ends up finishing the decoration after 2 hours

Ex-Husband!Nanami Kento who suggests that you should go get your Christmas tree now before there are no good ones left

Ex-Husband!Nanami Kento who drives to the nearest tree nursery to look for a good tree with you and Lola

Ex-Husband!Nanami Kento who has a small smile on his face as he watched both you and Lola look for the perfect tree

Ex-Husband!Nanami Kento who grabs the tree that you and Lola picked out it’s a perfect size and nice and full

Ex-Husband!Nanami Kento who stresses as he ties the tree to the roof of the car mumbling curses as the strings slip from his finger

Ex-Husband!Nanami Kento who finally gets the strings to stay put and hold the tree after many tries

Ex-Husband!Nanami Kento who opens the car door for you and Lola buckling Lola in her car seat

Ex-Husband!Nanami Kento who puts his hand on your thigh out of habit as you three drive back home

Ex-Husband!Nanami Kento who struggles even more to get the tree through the front does of your house

Ex-Husband!Nanami Kento who gets the tree through the door and now has to struggle with getting the tree in the tree stand but he can’t help but also be happy knowing that he will do this for you any damn day just to hear you and Lola giggle as he curses the tree out under his breath

Ex-Husband!Nanami Kento who gets the tree up with your help

Ex-Husband!Nanami Kento who admires the tree from the couch Lola and you tucked under his arms slowly falling asleep

Ex-Husband!Nanami Kento who smiles as he hold his two favorite girls in his arm and wouldn’t have it any other way

Ex-Husband Nanami Kento M.List

©Bella2023

[punk-in-docs]

🕸️ Pretty Girls Make Graves 🕸️

Eddie x Pencils - 🎃 Halloween 🎃one shot

2.7k words

Summary: pretty much what it says on the tin. Halloween one shot with our dearest Eddie x Pencils. Enjoy. Pure fluff. A tiny suggestion of smut at the end. Inspired by this lovely photo set & this prompt post that got me off my ass to write again.

Also another shoutout to the gorgeous @tvserie-s-world who made this amazing Eddie x Pencils edit that I’m still gooey over. 🖤

“So, what brings you to my dark and creepy neck of the woods?”Came a cocky taunt as soon as the trailer door swung open after your knock.

It’s usual rusty-screeching melody preceding its occupants flirty remark. The sound of the Smiths comes slithering out the creaking door behind him. The tape you bought that got lost in the avalanche of both your cassettes that slide and slip, congregate on his passenger seat.

He will not smile for anyone. And pretty girls make graves.

The lanky shadow of your boyfriend cuts across the warm yellow glow of the lights that slant out the doorway behind him. His costume makes you grin. Sheer moronic love.

You stood halfway up the steps. Candles flickering and throwing dozy pools orange in Jack-o-lanterns across the toes of your boots. They’re all wonky and have imperfect slanted mouths and jagged eyes. Loping together on the uneven porch steps. Fat orange gourds all drunk with gravity.

The very same pumpkins you’d helped him carve a week ago, after a misty morning weekend trip to Merill’s pumpkin farm. Eddie had the rather dastardly and determined habit of choosing pumpkins bigger and heavier than his actual van tires. You ended up with so many.

Your kitchen has smelt like squelchy pumpkin innards all week. You’re still finding seeds cropping up under the toaster or in the corner of the cabinets. As per Eddie’s way with most things, It wasn’t exactly a neat process.

You can’t help but laugh at his greeting too.

“I distinctly remember making plans to invade the spooky neck of your woods tonight, my little death trap.” You smile as you edge your way up the sloping steps. Holding a huge pumpkin shaped bucket of candy in your arms. The contents rustle as you move.

Everyone’s touting pumpkin buckets tonight. Driving in and even on the street back home, you saw a load of elementary kids walking around the park in their costumes. Ghosts in bedsheets. Aliens. Bats. One very ambitious papier maché pumpkin. Superhero’s. Clowns. Home made astronauts clad in crinkly tin foil and bulbous helmets. All wandering with an adult in tow and buckets clutched in their hands, ready to be filled.

You opted for a simple witch costume. Stripy tights and your dark thrifted docs. A black dress with a little cape tied around your shoulders and a witches hat. You applied dark purple-plum lipstick and dark smudgey grey eyeshadow, and liner. Your eyelids glitter like purple constellations. He finds stars to gaze at so often in those pretty eyes.

Eddie had gone for an Alice Cooper inspired look. Top hat. The dripping dark eye makeup that you’re amazed he managed all on his own. Hair it’s usual long rocker mess. Gothic black and lots of it. A huge goth belt with studs and buckles. You spy a cane grasped by his side too. A fake toy snake looped around his neck. Just like the man himself. He really does go all out.

The fringe benefit being he looks hot as hell to your eyes.

“You’ve got me under your spell, O’ bewitching one. How could I possibly resist.” He opened his arms out to you as you came to the last step.

“Bet you say that to every witch who shows up at your door on hallows eve.” You smile. Unashamedly grab the snake that’s looped around his neck and reel him in by it.

“Only ones who bought me jolly ranchers.” He preens. He can see the multi coloured hue of the wrapped candy in the huge bowl you’re carrying.

At the same time, he plucks the flimsy pointed witches hat off your head so the brim doesn’t get in his way. You unconsciously move towards the same goal together. It’s spooky. Sometimes it’s like you have the same brain. You’re one entity mashed together in a frenzy of melding hearts, music mania and relentless adolescent infatuation.

He lopes forwards and gladly slots his slanting smirk onto yours. Tasting of orange sweet candy corn and beer. His thumb and forefinger meet on your chin. Your hand slid for his neck. Fingertips along his jaw as you share a giddying kiss. You mouth at the plushness of his lips. He does the same to you.

You pull back before he makes you swoon dangerously down these steps. His kiss should come with a warning sign; dangerously addictive metal head. May possess body and soul.

You can tell already that you’ll have to wave goodbye to this lipstick. It’s now smeared all around your mouth and most of his. Now he looks like Alice Cooper doing nine to ten in Arkham Asylum.

“Hello.” You beam. Rubbing smudged purple off his lips. Vamptastic Plum the colour name.

“Hi.” He smirks like a lunatic. End of his nose rubbing into yours where he gazes at you.

He does it a lot. It’s honestly so lovesick you should be kinda nauseated.

When you’re studying. Watching a movie. Eating popcorn or pizza. Every now and again he’ll just rest his chin in his hand and smile all warm and stupid at you. Cheeks bunched and crows feet at his eyes. Even when you have paint flecked across your forehead. Or pizza cheese slung in a string across your chin. Or when you’re frowning at your fingers when you smear your nail drying polish. He loves watching you just be near him.

It always ends the same way. You’ll feel his eyes burning their fond cinnamon gaze into you. You’ll turn and meet his eyes. And that smile lopes even wider. He’ll loop a pinky though yours and kiss the back of your hand. Or your forehead.

“Permission to enter your lair?” You seek.

“Thought only vamps had to ask permission to come in?” He flirts with you. Eyes on your mouth again. Your lips all kiss bruised makes him ache. In fact, makes another sort of serpent twitch in his jeans.

“Misdirection. I am actually a vampire. The witch outfit is a clever disguise to work my cunning way into unsuspecting trailers.” You raise your brows naughtily.

He grins. “Clever subterfuge.”

He slips aside from the door to let you come in. Another kiss pressed to your lips before he lets you sidle on past him. He hangs your witches hat on the coat rack with his spare jacket and Wayne’s denim.

“Need me to park your broom?” He jests.

“Left it in the car with my black cat. You’re safe.”

“How many more witchy jokes could we stretch this out too?”

“I reckon I’ve a few left knocking around…” you guess. Placing the bucket of candy on the kitchen counter. Hopefully Eddie doesn’t pilfer the whole lot before Wayne’s home. You hope he leaves his uncle a treat or two. And doesn’t scarf the lot like a damn seagull.

This trailer hugs you any time you enter. You thought that when you and Eddie started dating. And you still think it now. Capital H home. This place. Filled with his and Wayne’s memorabilia. And a few more other things tonight;

You haven’t seen your boyfriend as much of late. He’s been out hitting the teenage party circuits with his metal lunchbox. Making a healthy chunk of change by the looks of it. He’s strung up plenty of decorations to help pep this place up with Halloween spirit.

There’s pumpkin paper garlands arced in loops up high. Orange and black twisting streamers over the mug shelves. Fake rubbery bats hanging down from the kitchen island cupboards. Dancing skeletons hanging on the little spare space the walls have to offer. The coffee table is cleared of its usual junk and absolutely heaped in candy and snacks.

Butterfingers. Butter popcorn. Pretzels. Red vines. Cheez balls. Mallomars. All of which happen to be your favourites. He has two cold beers side by side. And a fat tight joint sits waiting in the ashtray too.

He’s even bought those fake filmy cobwebs to spread in a few places with fake plastic spiders - to join in with the real ones dusted around in forgotten corners.

All your tensions melt down right to your toes. All is right with the world. Halloween night. No school tomorrow. And Eddie. And a whole uninterrupted night of movies and bliss. You’ve lost count of the amount of times a movie night has ended up getting dirty on his couch. Tape flicking to the end whilst you’re attached lip to lip with wandering hands.

You sigh gladly as you stand to toe off your shoes. Putting them aside. Heat slides into your stomach all squirly and scorching as he stands from behind you and his hand reach around and skilfully undo the cape around your shoulders.

“Let’s get you comfy my temptress of the night. Beer?” He seeks. Throwing your cape over his shoulder. It lands nowhere even near the coat rack.

“Yes please my lovable nightmare.” You sass. You walk over to the couch. Spying an absolute mound of VHS’s ready to go by the TV. The colour seemed to dip in and out sometimes. The set was old. Eddie had to whack the side sometimes to get it to behave. You find it more endearing than a set that worked seamlessly.

You pluck pieces of popcorn out the bowl and throw them onto your tongue. Crunch them down as you sit with your knees tucked under you.

Eddie kills the music and slings himself down next to you on the lumpy couch. Frame squeaking and rattling as he settles.

“Damn. You got a great selection, Munson. What did you do, bribe Harrington with your soul to score all this?” You remark as you peer at the videos on the coffee table.

1941 Wolfman. Christopher Lee’s Dracula. The Fog. Halloween. House on Haunted Hill. And Friday the 13th. You loved old school movies as much as he did. The old swelling suspense of a good black and white.

“Nothin major. Just a little selling of my body and charms. Deviant sexual acts. Just so you know I’ll have raw knees for a month.”

“Mm you filthy slut.” You hush. Impressed.

“Finest slut in the Midwest.”

“So I’ve heard.” You grin. Leaning in to kiss him. Seemed too infeasible not too. He cups the back of your head as you do. Keeping you close as he dares. Sweet kiss like icing sugar dusted across your lips.

He makes a small ‘mmm’ noise before you pull back.

“Besides. I consider The Fog a film that makes me think fondly of our very early courtship.” He remarks.

Snoopy bed shorts. A tin of Campbells. His lunatic escapades of climbing in your window late at night.

“And, well, only the best for you, Pencils.” He grins.

You tilt your head. A sigh caught in your throat.

“You must’ve busted your ass to get all this. You didn’t need too. You know I don’t need all this. I’m happy just to watch crappy reruns with you and order a pizza.” You tell him.

Concerned about the cash he would’ve laid out for tonight. The decor. The snacks. The primo shit from Rick. All must’ve cost a pretty penny.

“You’re worth every damn cent. When you’re dating a spooky awesome girl you gotta put in the ultimate spooky effort.” He tells you. Gripping his beer bottle and leaning back.

You clink your beer bottle to his.

“Please tell me you overcharged those meathead jocks for your product.”

“…. And then some.” He winks.

That’s my boy. You couldn’t be more proud.

“I’ll drink to that.” You murmur. Taking a pull on your cold beer. Cool heaven sliding down your throat.

“Thanks to Tina’s party last week, I mean, man, I scored big time. So many stoners invited. Walk in the park.” He smiled.

That deserved a kiss. Which you gladly give.

“Kinda love you for that.” You suppose. But there were no two ways about it - you were completly head over heels for him.

“Good to know.” He supplies. Hand rubbing your back.

“We better put a video on before I maul you.” You threaten with a great deal of flirt. Dragging your purple painted fingernails down the front of his top.

“Mmm kinky.” He grins. Leaning over to press a spitty kiss to your cheek. Before diving for the pile of VHS.

“Ok, roughly how long do you wanna argue about which one we watch first?” He seeks.

You narrow your eyes. Taking a sip back of your beer. “Depends if I win or not.” You look at him all cunning.

“House on haunted hill?” He bargains. Crouching and pointing the VHS at you.

“Don’t point that thing at me.” You smile. Stealing another handful of popcorn. Eating it with a grin.

Let the bickering commence…

~

The credits rolled to your third film of the night. Halloween the 1978 original. Orange twinkle lights flicker in the warm yellow lights near the kitchen. The rest of the trailer in dozy darkness. The sounds of kids trick or treating and laughing, batter against the trailer side in the night air.

You magnanimously let him pick the film. Maybe you’re growing soft in your old age.

This found you and Eddie slumped down together on the ratty couch. Limbs tangled. Joint smouldering in the ashtray. Verdant smoke in the air. Beer bottles empty. Only popcorn kernels left in the bottom of the bowl. The snacks had been pilfered and pinched at your leisure.

Eddie was pressed down onto you like a lanky weighted blanket. Snoozing happily with a belly full of beer and cheez balls. Socked feet hanging off the end of the couch. Hands slung all over you like a gangly octopus. He’s currently letting out content little breathy snores with his head cushioned against your boobs. A little spit of drool by the side of his mouth.

He’d nodded off sometime around Michael Myers fifth victim with the boyfriend and the blonde pigtails. You’d been carding your fingers through his hair. Scratching his scalp. Made his eyes flick back in his head.

You swear he was one step away from twitching his foot in contentment like a canine at the work of your hands. Made his brain short circuit.

More so when he was on Indica. Just the kinda hit he needed for a slow sleepy and spooky night in. You can’t deny you’re fighting the effects of it yourself.

A couple of puffs. Eyelids drowsy. Your limbs feeling like cotton stuffed pillows. Indolent and slow. And now you’ve got your perfect metal head keeping you pressed down.

“Guess the party circuit wiped you for six, huh babe?” You smile. Thumbing his cheek. He mumbled something incomprehensible.

You shift your leg up. Which tumbles his knee more into your lap. He snuffled. Nuzzling his head further onto you. His breath was all sugary red vines, and fruity weed.

You kept on stroking his hair. Leaning forward to nuzzle a kiss to the crown of his messy hair. Apple shampoo and that lost tang of American spirits.

“Edward?” You ask.

You get a sleepy, sticky gurgle from him.

“I’ve got a really nice bra and panties set on under this dress, y’know.” You whisper at him.

Another mumble. You smile and rest your cheek on his warm head.

“You’ll have to let me move to put the next movie in, babe.” You tell.

“No. S’comfy.”

Then you hear him grumble. “Boobs.”

“Great boobs.”

You chuckle. Honestly.

“Knock yourself out. Munson. You smile.

Shifting down to let sleep come and gently take you too.

“Oh, and Happy Halloween.” You add. Letting your eyes close. Letting the static at the end of the video ebb you softly into dreams. Along with the sound of wind kindly rattling the roof. Brushing along the walls outside. All the trick or treaters have been coerced indoors. Safe inside with their candy spoils.

Much later on. You hear the rustle of clothes and feel the heat of his breath. The warmth of his limbs leeches off you when he moves. Coldness sneaks in.

You wake with bleary-sticky eyes to those brown ones staring back at you. Cheeks all flushed. The tell-tale sign of a tented zipper bursting at his crotch.

That dripping eye make up looks smeared and downright dangerous. He looks absolutely ravishing and you suddenly shake off your tiredness to see him looking so good like this.

“You said something about a bra, Pencils…” he smiles. “Be a shame not to show it off now-“ He beams. Waggles his brows.

“Heard that did you?” Your brow crooks.

Happy Halloween, indeed.

This is for everyone; but especially for @tvserie-s-world @lunatictardis @heyndrix @callmeloverr @joequinnswhore @atabigail @thewrathoffemalerage @lurkingprincess @songforeddiemunson @palomahasenteredthechat @babybluebex

[heartsforseo]

Strawhats with a Lolita member

Summary: The straw hats just boarded into a new island. But, not like any others. This island was all white and black. Until they met you. The reader also has Daki's demon art technique. This was the request REQUEST are open (IM BEGGING) word count: 1.6k

The straw hats first met you on a gloomy island. Due to the lack of vibrant colors, everyone's in formal and dark clothing. Everyone except you. Your background was a blur. You grew up on the other side of the island and only come to the town when you need something.

Today was always the same. You wore your tall heels and grabbed your ribbon bag. You looked at your mirror one last time to check your makeup and fix your black and pink hair.

You leave your pastel house and start walking to the town. Your frilly dress bounces on every step you make, along with all the little decorations and the big ribbon on your back. Your creamy stockings hug your smooth and perfect thighs. Your parasol, walking beside you, waiting to be opened and used.

The walk to the town was short. All kinds of animals surrounded you. Hostile or not. You were an eye candy on the gloomy island, the only one with colors and a devil fruit.

You looked at the harbor. A ship has arrived. The Jolly Roger is a skull with two crossed bones underneath and a straw hat on top. You looked back at the market, trying to find people standing out.

You opened your parasol and took out your creamy fan, holding it below your eyes. There, you saw a young man with a straw hat, the captain, you presume. Next to him was a girl with tangerine hair and a man with curly eyebrows. Your island doesn't often get visitors. The last time someone came, they never went back to the sea.

There is a saying if you offend the island and do something wrong. At night, sashes will wrap around your body and slowly absorb you.

"Hey! I've been trying to call you for the last 5 minutes." The voice whined. You snapped out of your thoughts--making a little sound, and you looked at the man. He looks like a plank separated by its group.

"What's your name, and why are you the only one glowing?" the tall, lanky man asked.

"Y/n…" you quietly muttered. The fan was a great asset today. Covering your pink blush and trembling mouth.

"Hm…do you know anything about t-" "Luffy! Stop running a- A LADY~"

"Oh, uhm…" You were starting to get uncomfortable. Today was just supposed to be like yesterday and the day before. While the two were busy fighting among themselves, you had run off and went to one of the instrument stores.

There, you saw a tall man's back. He had an afro and, by the neck--an orange scarf. He also had a gold top hat and a cane on his side. The tall man turned around and, to your horror, a skeleton. Before it could open its mouth, your devil fruit accidentally activated, and your sashes were wrapped around the skeleton, ending it with a ribbon.

You gasped and mumbled a quick sorry, then left the store. Today has been unpleasant. You left the town while holding your mirror, making your hair and makeup look good. When you were away from the townsfolk, you used your fruit and made your ribbons carry you.

Various thoughts entered your mind. But the forest was calming you down. You looked around you-- and a woman with sunglasses and a bag stepped out of the shadow.

"That was an interesting ability, miss." The lady said.

You looked at the mysterious woman. Her clothes and accessories fit her. "Oh, uh, thank you!" You answered cheerfully.

"I saw a house on the other side of the island. It was hard to ignore it, especially the color the owner chose. With all the evidence I gathered, you were the legend the people were discussing. Ribbons and sash?"

You tilted your head to the side and asked, "How do you know?"

The woman chuckled and answered, "I saw what you did to my friend Brook. I asked the locals about the ribbons. They said that pirates only left their clothing behind, no bones or skin," she continued, "I must say what you're doing here is heroic. But don't you get ever tired from the lack of color?"

I left my ribbon vehicle and finally spoke, "This place wasn't white and black. It used to be full of color and life. One day, I was exploring the forest all by myself. I never made any friends. They said my style was too childish. My friends were animals, and I was hanging out with them. One of the red pandas gave me a strawberry. Instead of its usual dots, it got replaced with tiny carved ribbons. I ate it since my friend gave it to me. It tasted weird, and I passed out. When I woke up, the island had no color except for me. I want to help my people first."

The woman said, "Have you never thought you were the problem?"

I gasped. Me? What did I ever do?

"I'm not saying that you are. But what if? Me and my crew are going to depart tomorrow. I could show you around the ship. All your belongings are in the Thousand Sunny."

"I- can I at least check the ship first?"

Now, here you are in front of the Thousands Sunny. You entered the big ship, holding your fan just below your eyes. There was no one, and the only light source was on the second floor towards the back of the ship.

"Oh, by the way, my name is Nico Robin. You can call me Robin."

After the tour, you find out the men sleep on the first floor while the girls sleep on the second floor. Speaking of sleep, the crew arranged your corner neatly. You had your vanity and a lot of picture frames. Your bed also had a lot of frilly and curtains, and the wardrobe filled with Lolita and Victorian dresses.

"Let's go to the last room. The dining room." Robin said.

There, you two entered the room. All of the straw hat members except Robin were eating happily.

"I'll introduce you to all of them. The man with the straw hat is our captain, Luffy. The girl with the orange hair is our navigator, Nami. The guy with the long nose is our sniper, Ussop. The guy wearing a suit is the ship's cook, Sanji. The reindeer is the ship's doctor, Chopper. The tall man is a cyborg and is the crew's shipwright, Franky. The skeleton, the guy you packaged neatly, is the musician, and his name is Brook. Lastly, the Fishman is the helmsman, and his name is Jinbei. Let's eat with them."

You walked behind Robin, your fan still in front of your face.

"Oh, it's you!" Nami yelled. "LADY~" Sanji shouted.

You winced from the roaring noise and instinctively opened your umbrella to avoid them. Robin noticed you shifting and held your hand, then closed your umbrella. Sanji served you food, and you sat on the counter.

That night was lovely and fun. The crew, even though it looked chaotic at first, was pleasant. Everybody's different personalities make you fit in like the last puzzle piece. The ship made you feel needed. It made you feel wanted.

You left the dining area and stared outside. In front, you could see the vast ocean. But if you look back, you can see your colorful island. Colorful island?

Was I the problem all along?

"So, do you accept my offer now?" You look beside you to see Robin also staring at the island. You closed your umbrella and shifted your body, staring at her.

"I do."

The next day, you woke up in your bed. Last night was a bit of a blur. Luffy was cheering that someone new joined, and all the crew were doing whatever. You went to the girl's room and immediately passed out.

You stood up and looked at the mirror, observing the heart-shaped beauty mark below your right eye. You took out some new clothes, a white dress stopping at your thighs. You also took a pair of socks that reached your knees and arm warmers, stopping at your shoulders.

You look at the room Nami and Robin, sleeping peacefully.

After showering, you went to the girl's room and put your hair into pigtails, using two large ribbons as hair ties.

You finally left the room and went down to the first floor. There, mostly all of the straw hats were chilling.

"Are we leaving now?" You asked

"Yeah, the log post finally worked, and we're now going to the next island," Franky replied

You stared back at your island, slowly drifting away.

"I hope the animals will be--"

"I saw some marines just east from here," Zoro yelled from the top nest.

The next thing you knew, cannonballs were being launched at you.

Half of the crewmembers were still asleep. The only ones awake were Sanji, Zoro, and Jinbei.

"Don't worry. There are only two ships. I can handle it." You said.

The three looked at each other and nodded. Then, all went back to work.

You used your ribbons and stretched them to make them larger and larger. You wrapped the two ships like a present and ended it with a large bow.

You turn your gaze toward the direction of your island, feeling a sense of loss as it disappears from your view. However, the presence of your friends by your side gives you a glimmer of hope and comfort. It's hard to adjust, but having friends nearby makes it peaceful.

A/n: OMGG I FINISHED IT IN A DAY!! I STARTED ON 11 AM AND FINISHED AT 3 PM I AM SO SO HAPPY!! I LOVE THIS REQUEST SO MUCH SINCE I WANTED TO DRESS LIKE LOLITA BUT NEVER GOT THE CONFIDENCE. ANYWAYS TY ANON!! I LIKE BEING A WORKAHOLIC

[that-sarcastic-writer]

A Good Father

Dad!Dean Winchester X Wife!Mom!Reader

Summary: Dean has a beautiful wife and the cutest little girl. The perfect family. Maybe it's time to have a real home, too.

Part 2 of A Good Man but can be read as a standalone. This is actually how supernatural ended thank you very much

Warnings: not much, candy cane fluff, foul language. Still minors dni cause I don't want minor on my blog

WC: 2.6k

A/N: this has been sitting in my drafts for a while. Why not post it right? I love Dean with all my heart. That's nothing new. Enjoy the teeth rooting fluff cause I don't have the mental capacity to write smut rn :,)

Sleep still covered your eyes as you rubbed them softly. It couldn't have been later than six a.m., or at least what you saw through half-closed eyes on your phone screen when you woke up. You weren't fully sure, you were still processing that you were awake. You hadn't entirely wanted to get out of bed, but the lack of your husband's warmth all but forced you out of the comfort of your covers. Your feet took you to the study first. That's normally where you would find the brothers anyway. But you only saw Sam.

"Morning." You mumbled softly, running a hand over your face as you walked over to the younger Winchester.

Sam lifted his eyes from the ancient looking book in front of him, and he gave you a warm smile.

"Oh, hey, good morning."

You stood beside him, leaning a hand on the table as you looked around for Dean with a small frown.

"Where's your brother?"

"In the kitchen with Rosie. She woke up like an hour ago, so he's making her breakfast." He answered with a smile.

Your own lips irked up in pleasant surprise. Normally, Rosalie— yours and Dean's little girl— would come running to wake you— or both you and Dean, depending who was home at the time. You never minded that she would be up before you since Sam was always up before sunrise, and he loved spending time with his niece. But it did surprise you a bit that Dean didn't wake you at all this morning. Though, you were more so in awe at the fact that he had decided to take care of her that morning by himself.

Truth was, he had been gone a while, almost a week. That had been the longest he had spent on a hunt ever since she was born— five years ago. And your little girl was definitely missing her dad. She loved you, no doubt about it, but the little one was a daddy's girl for sure, but you blamed Dean for spoiling her so much. So she was feeling his absence greatly. She cried almost every night, asking why daddy wasn't there to tuck her in. It broke your heart a hundred times over to see her so heartbroken. When Dean came home last night, she all but clung to him, refusing to leave his side. And you guessed that had carried over to this morning.

"Thanks, Sam." You patted his shoulder and padded through the long halls of the bunker to the kitchen. You held in your breath as you peaked your head through the door and you nearly teared up at the sight.

"You think mommy and Sammy will like these?" Dean pursed his lips, nudging at the tiny human resting on his hip as three different pans with pancake batter, sizzling bacon and scrambled eggs cooked on the stove.

"Uh-huh. It looks yummy." She nodded, resting her head on his shoulder as he held her.

"Yeah, sure does." Dean shrugged, lips pulled into a proud grin at his own work. He always was a great cook.

He stood for a second, keeping an eye on one thing as he moved around another with a spatula and still somehow held a five year-old on his hip. He had his attention somewhere else, so he almost missed the tiny voice in his ear.

"I missed you, daddy." Rosie mumbled, her soft voice almost inaudible against him. Dean looked down at her, his eyes slightly big and his lips parted. He stared at her for a long second before he said anything. He was wondering just what the fuck he ever did to deserve something like this.

"I… I missed you too, baby. Always." He sighed out, his chest aching with an indescriptible feeling as he brushed some loose strands behind her ear, and he pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

You were silent for a long minute, lips slightly parted and eyes filled with awe as you leaned against the doorframe to watch the sight in front of you. Dean, still in his pajamas, with his little girl on his hip as he cooked. He was saying something to her, or so you figured since you heard her giggles, her tiny hands bunched around his t-shirt as she buried her face in his shoulder. He was smiling too.

"I'm deeply hurt. Making breakfast without me?" You spoke up, feigning hurt.

Dean turned around, he smiled at you at first but when Rosie started giggling at you, hiding deeper into his chest, he gritted his teeth.

"Ah, busted. Told you mommy would find out." He shook his head, holding back a smile as you approached them.

You playfully narrowed your eyes at him. He gave you a shrug with a toothy smile that showed the edges of his canines, and he gave you that innocent puppy dog look. You groaned out.

"We'll talk later." You warned, but your tone was playful. You finally slipped a smile as you stood on the tip of your toes to give Dean a kiss on the lips. He happily leaned down to meet you halfway. And then you kissed your little girl, leaving kisses all over her tiny face.

She giggled, nearly jumping out of her dad's arms into yours. Dean happily passed her over to you, his hip starting to get numb. You held her happily, pressing a kiss to the mess of her bedhead. God, the more this one grew, the more she looked like Dean. The same green eyes, the same freckled cheeks. But she had your nose, and her hair was a shade darker than Dean's, closer to Sam's brown. But you knew that she would be the spitting image of her dad when she grew older.

"Did you help daddy make breakfast?" You asked Rosie, and she nodded excitedly.

"Yeah! I helps daddy make pancakes." You gasped, lips parted to share her excitement.

"Those are gonna be the yummiest of pancakes, right sweetheart?" Dean leaned down, nudging her cheek with his finger. She nodded.

"Alright, little one, go sit with Sammy, we'll bring you out some pancakes, okay?" You told the little girl, and she nodded again, mumbling an 'okay'. You smiled at her, pressing a kiss to her forehead before you set her down her tiny feet. She had spent her whole short life in this bunker. You were sure she could find her way around the general area.

"Tell Sammy he's a nerd for me." Dean called out to Rosie as she ran off, chanting that her uncle Sammy was a nerd. Dean was smiling proudly to himself. He was raising her right.

"You're an ass." You playfully scolded him, and he gave you a look of feign innocence. He shrugged at you.

"I ever tell you how beautiful you look in the morning?" He irked his lips at you, resting his hands on your hips as he pulled you close. God he had missed you so fucking much.

"Missed you, too, hun." You leaned up on your toes, pressing a kiss to his jaw. He tried to hide it, muffle the sound, but he winced when your hand touched his cheek.

Your eyebrows furrowed, and you immediately pulled back to look at his face. You hadn't noticed the red bruise on his cheek, on the purple bruising around his eye. You gasped quietly, gently brushing the tip of your fingers over the bruised skin. He scrunched up his face at you, about to pull back, but you shot him a sharp look.

"I'm fine, baby. Just some bruises. You shoulda seen the other guy." He grinned, trying to humor you, but the concern didn't leave your face.

"I don't want to, actually." You sighed softly, your eyes falling to his chest, avoiding his eyes.

You wouldn't say it to his face, not actually. How could you? He never lied to you, from the moment he wanted something real with you he told you the truth. You knew exactly what you were getting yourself into with him. Sammy and hunting come with the package— he told you. And you accepted it. All of it. You married him anyway. You gave him a daughter anyway. But God, it terrified you beyond words that he was still hunting. That he still left you and your little girl for days at a time. And that he would come home with new scars and bruises that would last days. But at times— like this one— you feared that neither of them would come home at all.

"Sweetheart…" There was a bit of warning in his voice. He could read you so easily. He grabbed your face, forcing your head up to look at him now. "What is it?"

"You worry me, Dean. Look at your face. I don't even want to know how it looks under your shirt." Your eyes fell to the side, and your chest filled with ache as you tried to say the right words. "I'm sorry, I know I have no right to guilt trip you. But your daughter missed you, I missed you, and we need you, Dean, that's all."

Dean said nothing at this, his face stayed unreadable as he listened to you. And he heard you, he heard you loud and clear. He felt pressure on his chest and a sick feeling to his stomach. Fuck, he had grown soft.

"C'mere." He pulled you to his chest. He rested his hand on your hair, and he sighed softly when you threw your arms around his torso. "You know I love you, and Rosie, so much, right?"

You nodded against his chest. "I know babe, I love you, too."

We need you, Dean.

"Daddy! I told uncle Sammy he's a— a nerd!" Rosie announced loudly when she saw you and Dean again. And you had to hide your smile at the pointed look Sam shot his older brother.

Dean played dumb, his lips falling open, and he clicked his tongue in disapproval. "I'm telling ya, Sammy, I dunno where she learns it from."

"Yeah, great parenting dude." Sam rolled his eyes at Dean, and he could only snort in response.

"Yeah, well, here's my apology." Dean shrugged, setting down a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of Sam with a shit eating smile. Sam pretended to be offended, but he ate the plate in front of him without protesting.

"Alright, Rosie, you wanna eat some pancakes before school?" You set the plate with the smaller portion of pancakes and bacon in front of her and she nodded happily.

"Yes, please!" She excitedly grabbed a fork and dug in, but stopped a second later and looked at Dean. "Daddy can I has syrup?"

"Sure, baby." He practically saturated her plate with syrup and then his own. You shook your head at how alike they were already. You shared a knowing look with Sam and sighed softly, eating from your own plate.

You didn't often have the chance to have breakfast as a family, so you always treasured little moments like this when you had them. And deep in your heart, you wished you had moments like this more.

~~~~~~

"Sweetheart, you in here?" Dean peeked his head into your shared bedroom, his eyes darting around for a few seconds, and then his lips curved up at the sight of you on your shared bed, face deep in your laptop.

"Hi love," You smiled at him, setting your laptop aside to greet him. He happily joined your side, his lips pressing a kiss to yours instantly. "You left Rosie at school, right?"

Your words were stern as was the look you gave him. He pulled back and pouted. You were definitely scolding him for the time he decided to take Rosalie on a drive with Baby just because she asked instead of dropping her off at school.

"'Course I did. No rides in Baby this time, I promise." He smiled at you, and you rolled your eyes.

"Hope so." He saw you reach for your laptop again so he decided to speak again.

Dean thought about it. He thought about it all morning. He drove around town for another hour just to get his thoughts straight.

"Listen, I was thinkin' 'bout what you said this morning.."

You shook your head at him, "I'm sorry, Dean, I know I shouldn't have. Let's just forget about it, yeah?"

"Hey, no, don't do that. Let's not forget about it." You frowned at him, but you didn't respond, so he kept talking. "You're right. I know you are. Hell, I got thrown around so hard, I don't know how I got outta bed this morning. I thought about you, thought about Rosie. Thought about my old man, too."

You frowned softly, resting your hand on the back of his neck, fingers threading through the short hair gently, "Dean.."

"I don't want to be like my old man. I don't want to leave you and Rosie alone anymore, I just can't."

You straightened up, a bit unsure where he was getting at.

"Dean, baby, what are you trying to say?"

"You and Rosie deserve a normal life, a house, all of that shit." Dean breathed out the words, and he held your face in his hands, a tiny smile on his lips. "I want to try it. A normal life. Don't you?"

"I… Dean.." You sighed out softly, attempting to process his words. You stared at him long and hard, and all you saw was love, his green eyes were sincere. "I wouldn't force you to give up hunting. I mean, that's all you've known? And what about Sam? I just—"

"That's exactly it. I'm… I'm so goddamn tired of the life. Don't get me wrong, we save people, hell, we've saved the world, but is that really all worth it if I can't come home to my wife and daughter?" He tilted his head, his free hand was on your thigh, and he squeezed softly. "And Sammy, I know he's tired of it too. He's always wanted a normal life. But he stayed because of me. If I get out, I know he'll do it, too. He's done it before. Who knows, maybe he can find his own pretty girl to marry and have a couple of kids with."

For the longest time, Dean had refused to even consider doing anything else with his life, doing anything better. This was all he had ever known, all he was ever actually good at, right? But lately, God, just lately, he was seeing that light at the end of the tunnel. You and Rosalie were right there. And if you were there with him, the rest of the world could go to hell for all he cared.

"Dean, I love you, I loved you then, hunter and all, and I will love you no matter what. But if you want to settle down.." You breathed out a soft laugh, the words sounding so nice when you said them out loud. You leaned closer to him, a smile on your lips as you pressed your forehead against his. "We'll settle down. A house, normal jobs, play dates, all of it."

"Christ, what did I ever do to deserve you in my life?" He smiled wide, and he pressed a hard kiss to your lips. It was warm, loving.

"Mhmm, so, what would a former hunter do for a living?"

"I'm pretty good with cars aren't I? What do you say? Think I should open my own car shop?"

Your husband as a mechanic? That wouldn't be half bad.

[crunchwrapsnoopy]

Holiday Party Planning Committee [Keigo Takami x Reader]

⋆⁺₊❅.It's Beginning to Look a Lot like Christmas⋆⁺₊❅.

"take a look at the five and ten, it's glistening again, with candy canes and silver lanes aglow!"

Just a cutesy Hawks Christmas-y drabble because Halloween is over and I'm excited for the holidays! ٩>ᴗ<)و

Hawks x F! Assistant! Reader

⋆꙳•❅‧₊⋆☃︎‧❆₊⋆

WC: 627

“Hawks’ looking for you- whaddya do?” one of my boss’s sidekicks asks while lazily leaning against my desk while being careful to avoid messing up my pretty display of knick knacks and trinkets. 

I look up from my computer curiously tilting my head, “Did he say what he wanted? I’m kinda busy.” I ask, not wanting to waste my time, I’m swamped with paperwork as is. 

“Nah. Cool if I take a piece, Ms. L/N?” He eyes my little candy holder filled with peppermints. I nod and he takes two, opening one and popping it in his mouth and slipping the other in his pocket. “But anywho… he seemed antsy, somethin’s ruffling his feathers,” he jokes, “better hop to it.” He taps my desk and walks off leisurely. 

I get up from my desk and go to Hawks’ office, he looks stressed out, several papers draped over his desk. He notices as I come in, looking up and straight at me his face brightens, “There’s my favorite assistant!” your only assistant. “I need your help, it’s urgent.”

“What is it? I was doing your reports from your last mission.” I say as I walk further into the office. 

“It shouldn’t take that long, c’mere,” he beckons me closer and flips his computer screen to show me something. A gingerbread house. I hold back my stressed out bitch face and the urge to strangle this bird. “The holiday party’s coming up- don’t know which I should make this year, do you like this one?” he moves the cursor to a different tab and clicks, showing another gingerbread mansion, “or this one? This one looks a little harder, but I think I could-”

I cut him off, “Hawks, I was doing something important, it’s only November 2nd, this can wait.” 

“This is important, and I need to start planning now so when the time comes it won't be like last year.” Hawks reminds me of our last Christmas party at the agency. He decided we’d have a party a week before the date he set and it ended up being a catastrophe. A sad punch bowl with a pack of solo cups, a package of oreos, and a few loose streamers. This year he clearly was coming for redemption. “And last time I checked, you’re never stressed over reports,” he scoffed. 

I bite the inside of my lip, nervous about admitting to my fault, “I’m behind on a few reports. You did a lot of stuff on patrol last week, it was hard to keep up.” I explain as I rock back and forth on my heels. 

“How far behind are you?” He looks at me curiously, noting how nervous I am for his reaction. 

“5 or 6-” 

He laughs, cutting me off, “You’re worried about 5 or 6 reports? Before I got an assistant- I’d always be twenty or more behind.” 

“No wonder they made you hire me.” I breathe out, my anxieties about the reports practically leaving my body.

Hawks shakes his head, still tickled about how worried I was, “You’re a good assistant Y/N, but you’d be a great one if you’d just shut up and help me pick a gingerbread house.” He nods to his computer screen once more. 

“Right,” I look at the gingerbread houses on the screen carefully, the second one does look way harder, like he said. “I think the first one would be easier to fit in your schedule.” 

He nods thoughtfully, “True, but I like the little gingerbread car on the second one, the first one makes me sad, the gingerbread men have no mode of transportation.” 

“You could just add the gingerbread car to the first one.” I shrug. 

“I didn’t even think of that.”

⋆꙳•❅°⋆❆.ೃ࿔:･*❆ ₊⋆

[anathemaspeaks]

omg…😭 i didn’t know which one to choose from your prompt list but after a while of considering i would like to request fluff 22(apparently all our friends have a bet going that we end up together) with shoto todoroki??

check out my prompt list and send in requests!

you were comfortable laying on shoto's lap in his dorm, lazily scrolling through your phone while he read a book, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, playing with your hair.

there was something in the air, something so minty - like candy canes, and something so shoto. you nuzzled into his body more, actively seeking the warmth of his body and the affection he showered you with.

he had the honor of calling you his girlfriend for a little over a month now, the both of you choosing to keep it secret because of the amount of gossip that would go around if people found out - and not to mention, his family's reaction.

it wasn't that either of you were scared, no. you both mutually wanted the peace of the honeymoon stage without anyone else interfering (i.e, enji todoroki plus the constant teasing from your friends).

(you didn't know he would always be this way with you - honeymoon stage or not. he was head over heels for you, since the very moment he laid his eyes on you, and that would never change.)

calling you his girl was the only blessing he had in this life, he thought. you cherished him just the same - even though it had been just a month of you dating, you both knew you'd loved each other way before that.

"you know, apparently all our friends have a bet going that we end up together?" he piped up, setting the book aside along with his reading glasses, opting to look at you instead, heterochromatic eyes gauging your reaction.

you put down your phone too, intrigued by the statement, a bright smile on your face.

"all of them? we did take quite some time didn't we" you laughed, remembering the way you both were practically a couple for months before you made it official.

you loved being with him alone, keeping the relationship private made these sweet moments of it just being you and him so much more intimate.

you both fell asleep on the couch, talking about memories from the days before you both were together - how oblivious he was to the fact that you liked him back.

you woke up to a series of notifications from both of your phones, kaminari's name flashing. you picked it up to check what it was, and why the hell he was spamming at 8 am in the morning.

you yawned, only to pause midway, eyes wide and mouth hung open.

"sho, baby? i don't think we're secret anymore" you said nervously, not knowing how he would react to the picture of you and him cuddling on the couch, your face buried in his neck and his arms wrapped around your waist.

only for him to hand you his phone.

you looked at him, puzzled.

"open it, love." he said, a small smile on his face and a look filled with so much adoration it made your heart hurt.

you turned it on, only to find that same picture as his wallpaper.

well, at least you guys didn't have to sneak out to the janitor's closet to meet up anymore.

sorry if this isn't what you wantedd i wrote whatever came to my mind, i hope you like it <3