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lovelytsunoda · 5 months

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naughty list // oscar piastri

summary: oscar's bored, horny and hopelessly smitten with his lover. but if he keep this up, he's going to land them both on santa's naughty list this year.

pairing: oscar piastri x female reader

prompt: "let's both be naughty and save santa the trip."

warnings: soft smut, praise overload, christmas lingerie, oscar is a big simp, sex on a shag carpet, oscar 'if she's not enjoying herself, neither am i' piastri,

author's note: am i incapable of writing anything wholesome about this man? possibly.

oscar piastri was head over heels for his girlfriend.

perhaps that's how he got himself into this situation, on the couch by the fire on a cold london winter, christmas tree lit up behind the couch, tennis on the tv. fresh gingerbread cookies sat on the island, filling the ground-floor apartment with their familiar and warm scent.

y/n had slipped away just moments before, kissing his forehead and promising a surprise, her nervous giggle punctuating the end of the sentence as she slipped away to the bedroom.

a nervous giggle that made him wonder, if, perhaps, the surprise was a little on the naughtier side. his lover wasn't one for wild bedroom escapades, but the fact that she might have been trying to spice it up a little for him?

it drove him fucking wild. worried him slightly, yes, because he didn't want her to push herself too far out of her comfort zone if she wasn't ready, but excited him nonetheless.

meanwhile, in the bedroom, she was nitpicking everything, standing anxiously in front of the mirror as she twirled her hair. the red set stood out against her skin, and while the corset was almost no different than many of the shirts that she wore, she wasn’t sure how to feel about the lacy panties, leaving so much skin exposed.

she’d never been a lingerie person. she wished she could be, but even stepping into victorias secret sent her in a self-critical spiral. no, until now she had tended to stick to skimpy pajama sets, never as exposed as she was now.

she thought she was being ridiculous, oscar had seen her naked, for lords sake.

but even still, looking at herself in the mirror, she wondered if she should have picked the set with the silk robe.

she closed her eyes, counting to ten before she reached for the santa hat on the bed, pulling it over her head and dangling the pom pom on the end over her shoulder.

when she gently trod back into the living room, she cleared her throat to get oscars attention. the driver looked up from his phone, choking on his kale smoothie when he saw her. he promptly dropped his phone, getting to his feet and ambling over to her.

“y/n, love, you look stunning.” his touch was gentle, starting at her hands before running gently along her skin, index finger tracing hearts on her exposed side. “you’re so beautiful, and I’m happy you feel comfortable enough with me to let me see you like this. it’s a privilege I count myself lucky to have.”

she sighed into his touch, fingers messing with the lapel of his flannel. the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, the muscles in his arms flexing sharply as his fingers continued to soothe her skin.

“I thought I’d try something new.” she said sheepishly, a blush rising on her cheeks. “you like it?”

“baby, I adore it.” oscar beamed, leaning in to softly press his lips to hers. she tasted like peppermint, and smelled like vanilla bean as he deepened the kiss, pulling her closer. “my gorgeous girl.” he growled, biting gently on her bottom lip. “all mine.”

smiling sweetly, she pulled oscar closer, wrapping her arms around him and playing with the hair on the back of his neck, pressing gentle kisses to his cheek. the aussie hummed contentedly, his large, warm hands trailing over her back.

he was well and truly smitten.

she looked like a christmas angel, wrapped in red and white, the cutsey santa hat propped on her head. who knew santa hats could be so sexy on the right woman?

"i love you." he hummed, moving to gently kiss her neck, smiling to himself as she propped up on the tips of her toes, gasping softly as his tongue ran over her pulse point. "my darling, darling girl." he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers. "maybe i should dress up next time? get that whole magic mike kinda vibe going on."

she giggled, moving one dainty hand up to cover her mouth as she laughed. god, that laugh. oscar was getting painfully hard just listening to her giggle.

she stepped back, and oscar followed, gently pressing her up against the wall. she winced at the cold plaster pressing up against her smooth skin, but the discomfort was soon forgotten as her lover leaned over her, one hand bracing him against the wall and the other under her chin to tilt her face up. she beamed, trying to hold back her giddy giggles as she stared into his wonderous eyes.

"pretty girl, love of my life." oscar started softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "let's both be naughty and save santa the trip, aye?"

"that's your smoothest holiday line yet." she nodded with a laugh, enthusiastically pulling him closer to her, eliminating the space between their bodies as best she could. "i love you." she said quickly, pressing her lips to his as his hands began to rove her front, fumbling with the strings of the corset top.

she gently pushed his hands away, watching as his eyes grew three sized when she pushed the cups of the corset bra down, nipples pebbling in the cold air, silhouetted against she stunning red of her top.

"you'll be the death of me, sweet thing." oscar laughed, running his hands over her skin. "tell me what you want, pretty girl."

"you, oscar. touching me. kissing me." she sucked in a breath as he bent down, sucking a hickey onto her supple skin, his thumb gently running over her nipple. "making me yours."

oscar groaned, laving his tongue over her sensitive bud, one hand reaching to hold hers close. "sweetheart, just let me take care of you, yeah? give you exactly what you need." he detached from her breast, a line of saliva trailing from her bud to oscar's tongue. he used one hand to wipe his mouth before kissing the back of her hand. "give my sweet perfect angel the full princess treatment."

she smiled down at him as he sank to his knees, nuzzling his nose into the soft skin of her thigh, her fingers carding through his hair. "baby, you left one of the girls unloved." she playfully pouted at him, nudging her other breast. "you don't want the one on the left to think you love the one on the right more, do you?"

oscar laughed, rising to his feet before taking her left breast in his hand. "you're so right, love. wouldn't want one of the girls to feel underappreciated. i hope they know how loved they are."

"you're such an idiot."

"yeah, but you're the one who gets turned on by me acting like a complete and utter fool."

"shut up and kiss me, pretty boy."

"yes ma'am."

oscar kissed her, his hands slipping down to the globes of her ass, lifting her into the air. she squealed, wrapping her legs around him so he was carrying her like a koala, her fingertips gripping his still-clothed shoulders.

well, she couldn't have that. why was she the only one showing any skin?

he set her down on the shag carpet, warmth from the fire gently hearing her chilled skin, hair fanning out behind her head. oscar wasted no time, shedding his flannel and t shirt before he dove right in, wrapping his lips around the tip of her breast. she gasped, arching into him with one hand gripping the carpet and the other in his hair.

“atta girl.” oscar exhaled, sucking another hickey onto her skin. in his opinion, his job wasn’t done until her tits were covered in proof of his undying love. “that’s my pretty girl.”

“need you, baby.” she pleaded, grinding up against his jeans, the denim rubbing at her sensitive core through her lace panties.

she was so shamefully soaked after oscars devotion to her breasts, and she needed some kind of release. she was almost certain that there was a damp spot forming on her lovers jeans as she ground against him.

oscar leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead before slipping his fingers underneath the fabric of her panties.

“you look too pretty in this set to take it off, baby.” he hummed, kissing over the red fabric, nuzzling into her skin as he rubbed his thumbs over her hipbones. “might just have to push them aside, but they’ll get stained badly when I make you see stars.”

“jesus, oscar, just do something!” she groaned, running her finger along his nose. “please?”

“anything for my girl.” he pushed her panties aside, gently pressing his lips to her sopping wet center, his tongue darting out to trace a heart on her lips.

she moaned, throwing her head back, her pelvis rising off the carpet to try and build more friction against her lover. she moaned his name, eyes fluttering closed as she began to see the stars he had promised her.

she was so lucky to have a man like oscar. a man who made her feel so confident in herself, treated her like a queen, and made sure that she got the calm, quiet love that she craved.

“fuck, baby. you taste fucking incredible.” he groaned, holding her thighs open, thumbs rubbing reassuring circles on her soft skin.

oscar could have spent all day between her thighs. hed always been a giver, but when he had the chance to spoil y/n, he was almost certain it made him way hotter than it made her. what could he say, acts of service was his love language.

and when she wrapped her thighs around his head, practically screaming his name, his tongue licking fat stripes up and down her opening, and over swollen her swollen clit?

he had to start thinking about tyre degradation to avoid coming in his jeans.

“fuck, oscar, baby.” she whined, tugging on his hair as his nose nudged her sensitive bud. (he moaned at the action) “just like that. god, that feels so fucking good.”

she could feel the band in her stomach begin to tighten, her thighs closing in around oscars head as pleasure spread around her lower body.

oscars tongue darted in and out of her, the lewd sounds filling the room. “are you going to come for me, pretty girl. yeah? yeah, that’s right, come on my tongue, princess.”

he slipped a finger in, and the sensation of his finger flexing while his tongue played with her sensitive, puffy clit made her cry out, rutting her hips into his face, grinding against his finger and trying to get herself off.

“oscar, im coming!” she cried, the coil in her stomach finally snapping as she cried out his name, fingernails leaving scratches in the skin on the back of his neck.

his hands gripped her thighs; he was holding himself up over the carpet on his forearms, his body shaking she coated the bottom of his face in evidence of her arousal. he moaned at the taste, sitting up on his knees and catching her eyes before sticking his finger in his mouth and sucking the salty fluid off his finger.

she smiled at him, face rosy and flushed. her limbs felt like jelly, arms giving out underneath her as she tried to prop herself up to kiss him. chuckling to himself, oscar braced his hands on either side of her head, leaning down to kiss her forehead, then her cheeks, and then the tip of her nose before, finally, her lips.

“I love you.” they both whispered, one after another, the room silent save for the low hum of the tv and the crackling in the fireplace.

“baby, as much as I would love to stay here with you, I am absolutley throbbing and if I am not inside of you in the next five minutes, I am going to lose it.” oscar chuckled, kissing her softly.

she smiled, giggling as he ran his hands over her flushed skin. “you know you’re going to throw your back out if we do this on the floor, right?”

“yeah, but it will be so totally worth it.” oscar laughed, kissing her forehead softly. “stay right here, and keep warm. I’ll be right back.”

she hated to see him go, but she loved to watch him leave, eyes zeroing in on both his impressive back muscles and the way his jeans hugged his backside. how did she get so lucky to land such a god of a boyfriend?

when he vanished into the bedroom, she stripped out of the corset, cringing when she noticed the reddened imprints left on her skin from where the wires dug into her. she pulled the santa hat off, dropping it pathetically to the carpet before pulling a blanket around her shoulders. she was slowly regaining feeling in her limbs, a feeling of contentment spreading through her stomach as oscar came back, a festive box in his hands,

“right, so your choices are peppermint, gingerbread and eggnog.” he grinned, tossing her three small packages before slipping out of his jeans.

her limbs tingled as she watched him undo his belt, his rock-hard cock straining against his flannel boxers. it was only when oscar sat down next to her, stealing half of the white knit throw blanket to wrap around his own shoulders, that she looked down at the packages in her hands.

they were christmas themed condoms, a reindeer face smiling up at her from the gingerbread one. she couldn’t help it when she burst out laughing, sniffing the peppermint package.

“oscar! what the fuck?” she managed through laughter. “you know the flavoured bit only counts if I’m sucking your dick right? and that’s not happening tonight.”

“they were a gag gift from lando.” oscar laughed, fiddling with one of the foil packets. “I brought out normal ones too; I don’t know how much I trust these ones anyways.”

she laughed, leaning over to kiss him. “thank you.”

“anything for my girl.” oscar deepened the kiss, his tongue darting out to gently and politely explore the inside of her mouth, pushing her down onto the carpet once again, thigh pushing her legs apart.

he grinded against her sensitive core, trying to find some sort of relief for himself while also making sure that he lasted more than a minute when he finally got inside of her.

her legs curled around his waist, pulling him him closer as they made out, warm and sweaty skin sticking to each other as they warmed up by the fire.

he didn’t even need to pull away to make a grab for the discarded red hat, only drawing back to put it on before he extracted his cock from his boxer shorts.

she giggled, sitting up so she could take him in her hands, jerking him slightly before ripping open a condom package (just a regular one, not the peppermint one she knew he had been eyeing).

laughing to herself, she twirled the end of the hat in her fingers. “I should not find this as hot as I do. just so you know.”

“duly noted. are you ready for me, princess?”

she smiled at him, slipping out of her lacy panties before she straddled him, his sheathed cock teasing at her entrance, shivers running up her spine. “I wanna be on top. wanna ride your cock.”

and who was oscar to argue?

he gripped her hips, her hands on his shoulders as he positioned himself by her entrance. she was so wet that he slid right in, her fingernails leaving crescent marks on his shoulders as she winced, hiding her face in his neck.

“I know, sweet girl.” he moved his hands up and down her back. “i know it’s a lot to take, but you’re doing it so so well. you make the first move, sweetheart.”

she straightened her back, touching her nose to oscars as she began to slowly grind her hips, getting used to every inch of his dick splitting her in half.

“that’s it, pretty girl. nice and easy.” oscar groaned, palming her ass. “that’s it.”

with oscars hands guiding her, she began to pick up the pace, pulling up before sinking back down against his cock.

“fuck, baby, feels so good.” she whined, fingers tugging at the hairs on the nape of his neck. “feels so deep.” she reached for his hand, pressing it to her stomach to show oscar just how deep he actually was.

“yeah? yeah, this cock is all yours, baby. whenever you want it, you tell me. I’ll drop everything to give it to you.” he grunted, one hand gently smacking her ass. she yelped, hips startling before she smashed her lips to his, moving her hips in subtle circles.

he moaned into her mouth, thrusting up to meet her hips halfway, watching as her mouth dropped open in a guttural moan. “you like that, sweet girl? yeah, you just let me take over and fuck you until you’re all blissed out.”

he took the lead, planting his feet on the floor, one hand supporting his weight and the other holding his princess close, her perky, sensitive nipples pressed against his chest as he thrust up, his cock sliding in and out of her like it was nothing.

“oh, yes.” she whined.

“that’s my pretty girl. that’s my fucking girl.” he growled, rolling over so he was on top again. normally he loves it when she rode him, loved the intimacy that came with it.

but he was so pent up that he needed something more.

he slipped her legs over his shoulders, muscles rippling as he leaned forwards to thrust into her, balls slapping against her skin.

her hands gripped his shoulders, slipping down his chest and leaving little pink marks in their wake as he pounded in and out of her, the pom pom on the end of his festive hat dangling in her face

“fuck, I love being like this with you.” he rasped, fingers digging into the shag carpet. “being this close to you.” he started to kiss up the side of her throat, tongue occasionally darting out to lick the sweat off her skin. “you’re so fucking pretty like this, all blissed out and at peace on my cock. love making you feel good, honey.”

he allowed her legs to slide off his shoulders, leaning down to kiss her, swallowing her moan as he bit down on her lip.

“shit, I love your cock, oscar. I love having it inside of me. needed it so bad!” she cried, clinging to his upper body as she let him have his way with her.

she knew he knew what she wanted, what she liked. he could read her like the back of his hand, and she was so blessed to feel safe enough with him that she could just clear her mind and let oscar make her feel good.

“that’s my girl. taking it so well. how are you feeling, princess?”

“perfect.” she breathed, inhaling sharply as his cock brushed up against her walls. “absolutley perfect.” her eyes slammed shut as her walls started to contract, squeezing oscar’s cock for all it was worth

“are you going to come, pretty girl? come all over my thick cock?”

“yeah.” she whined, tears of pleasure pricking the corners of her eyes as he kept slamming into her. “yeah, I’m almost there.”

she almost didnt get to finish her sentence, oscars lips claiming hers against his own as he kissed her deeply, one feee hand coming down to play with her clit. she gripped his biceps tightly, moaning harshly against his lips as she felt herself clamp down on him, seeing stars as she started to let go.

“that’s it, princess. let go for me, cover my cock in your sweet sweet come. give it to me, sweet girl. I’ve got you,”

she came with a cry of his name, feeling her body go weak as all her energy evaporated. the motion triggered oscar’s own orgasm, his entire body shaking as he grunted (arguably louder than she did, back muscles rippling as his body tightened and then went slack) spilling into the latex shield before his arms gave out and he collapsed against her.

“I love you.” he mumbled, kissing her softly before gently pulling out. he reached behind him for the blanket, tucking it around her body before sliding a throw pillow underneath her head. “hang tight for me, baby. I’m gonna go make you a hot chocolate.”

he slipped the condom off, balling it up with the intention of chucking it in the garbage on his way to the kitchen, pulling his boxers back on before washing his hands and pulling two mugs out of the upper cabinets.

y/n watched him from her position on the floor, a soft smile on her face as she marvelled at the scratches on his back, and the pure soft domesticity of watching her lover make her a hot drink after he made her see stars.

he came back minutes later, with two mugs piled high with whipped cream and a foolish smile on his face.

“merry christmas, pretty girl.” he hummed, kissing her softly, not expecting anything more than what it was.

“merry christmas, oscar.”

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @twinkodium @httpiastri @libraryofloveletters @cartierre @lorarri @thatsdemko @oconso @sidcrosbyspuck

#oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri #f1 smut #formula one x reader #formula 1 smut #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #the christmas collection 2023 #Spotify #lovelytsunodas eclectic music taste

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fuckmyskywalker · 4 months

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❄️ 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟐𝐧𝐝 : 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬 - 𝐒𝐚𝐦 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐞.

— CW: 18+. Smut. Oral (f). Masturbation. Brief vaginal penetration. Creampie. Exhibitionism. | Word Count: 0.8k

— a/n: I'm finally free and I'm no longer sick! I'll catch up with the 23 and upload 24 <3. Kissies and sorry for the inconvenience!

— Anyafest 2023 + Taglist!

When Sam invited you to spend Christmas with his mom’s side of the family, you clearly weren’t expecting to be dragged behind the tall, leafy Christmas tree; the bright colorful lights bathed your face, highlighting the confused expression on your flushed cheeks. “What are you doing?” You whisper at your boyfriend, looking between the thick branches, making sure his mother or his aunts are still chatting in the kitchen.

Sam pushes you against the wall, his hip brushing against the tree and making some ornaments jingle softly. “I want to fuck you,” He states simply as if it was obvious— it kind of was. “It’s so stupid my mom is making us sleep in separate rooms.”

“We can’t fuck in the living room!”

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

Smashing his lips against yours, Sam slides his cold hands under your loose T-shirt, cupping your breasts and squeezing them. His erection rubs against your thigh, barely concealed by those ridiculous red checkered pajama pants his mother bought for everyone to wear… including you. His thumbs circle your nipples as he drinks your moans with harsh, demanding kisses. With your palms against his shoulders, you try to push him away to protest a little more, but it seems that he has other plans; one hand releases your chest, yanks the waistband of your pants down, bringing your underwear with them. “You better be quiet,” He threatens you before kneeling and burying his face between your legs.

His tongue traces your folds before using his thumbs to spread them. Licking his lips, Sam runs his tongue flat over your clit, flicking it repeatedly. The thrill of doing it behind the goddamned Christmas tree is making your head go dizzy, you should be ashamed, have an ounce of respect for his family… but right now you can’t seem to care when your boyfriend is sucking your clit with equal need. He wasn’t lying when he said he wanted to fuck you. Your hand reaches for his dark locks, tugging at them to grind against his face eliciting a quiet laugh from him, his hot breath hitting your cunt in a way that sends shivers from your head to your toes.

“You taste like a whole fucking meal,” He mumbles, returning his tongue to your swollen nub and torturing you a little more. “This pussy is just perfect.”

Staying quiet becomes quite the challenge when you lower your eyes, no longer focusing on the white ceiling, just in time for Sam to pull his pajama and wrap a hand around his throbbing member, smearing the precum that trickled down the tip.

“Sam—” You choke, furrowing your brows when his tongue slides in. Stroking himself quickly, Sam’s hips rock back and forth, seeking his own release while hurrying yours. The heartbeat ringing loudly in your ears mutes the laughs from the kitchen, his family being the least of your problems now.

The flick of his wrist speeds up as he returns his mouth around your clit, stimulating it until you are sure you are touching heaven itself— you are so close to coming, maybe it is from the adrenaline, the high risk of getting caught, or to be fair, Sam’s skilled tongue can be doing the trick.

“I’m gonna come, don’t stop—” He nods at your words, slowing his pleasure to only focus on yours until it happens. Biting your lower lip, your climax hits you like a strong electric wave that lasts longer than you expected. The world spins around you, your mind drowned with the ecstasy and oxytocin that burns in your fingertips.

“That’s it, dolly,” Sam whispers hotly, panting and already sweaty. Standing up, he guides his cock between your slick folds, pushing it and stretching you in a swift motion. “Shh, it’s okay— I’ll just come inside to save us the mess. Be quiet.�� He says, thrusting quickly and fast before he grunts and presses his forehead against yours. His eyebrow twitches as his cock mimics it in rapid jerks, shooting his load deep inside you. You hold him, savoring the small intimate moment and humming at the familiar feeling of his cock filling you up.

“You are insane.” You laugh, catching your breath— when you hear footsteps coming from the kitchen.

Sam’s eyes widen and he quickly presses his body flush against yours, holding his breath as his face presses next to yours. Thank fucking God the tree is tall and wide enough and covered in decorations to cover you both. You side-eye him with a terrified expression, if his mother finds you two… you can’t even imagine the embarrassment.

Robin calls your name followed by Sam’s. No answer. She calls again, this time louder. Your heart stops beating for a second or at least it feels like. You two are screwed.

“Leave them alone,” Sam’s grandma yells from the kitchen and you have never been more thankful. “Come back and help me with the turkey.”

Reluctantly, Robin looks around the living room and grabs the TV remote, the forgotten movie you and Sam were watching no longer concealing the noises you two made. She walks away, replying something to her mother you can’t quite catch. Sam exhales, relieved that he dodged the bullet.

“Sorry,” He chuckles, kissing your cheek. “I promise it won’t happen again.”

But it’s a lie, you know it will happen again.

#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anya writes!#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anyafest 2023!#sam monroe #sam monroe smut #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe x reader smut #sam monroe x you #sam monroe fanfic #sam monroe fanfiction #sam monroe x y/n #life as a house smut

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sommerbueckers · 16 days

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My Brother's Best Friend Pt4

I immediately disregarded my homework at the sound of my phone ringing. I had been expecting a call from Paige ever since her game against Xavier went off, Uconn coming out with an unsurprising win.

Her smug face appeared on the screen, she had changed into her pajamas and the camera was propped up on what I assumed to be a desk or table.

"Summer Collymor."

"Paige Bueckers."

"Did you watch the game?" she asked.

"Nope," I said, "tv was unplugged as promised."

She leaned back in her chair and laughed, shaking her head. "Whatever you say."

I laughed as well, nervously toying around with the pen I had previously tossed aside with my notebook. This was the first time ever that Paige and I had facetimed, and despite our track record of never having a dry conversation, I couldn't help but worry that I'd run out of things to talk about.

"So..." she said with a smile.

"So...?" I repeated.

"How was your day?" she asked softly.

"Hmm it was okay. Practice was really great though, we got a few new girls who tried out for the second season and they're really good. I'm hoping they'll tryout again for the comp squad in the spring."

"That's good. You're pacing yourself right?"

"What do you mean?" I frowned.

"With putting the routines together and studying for midterms and all, I just want to make sure you aren't stressing yourself out" she shrugged shyly.

"Aww, are you worried about me?" I smiled.

"Definitely not, who am I gonna make fun of if you're all busy and stressed?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Girl bye, look in the mirror and you'll find all the jokes you need" I laughed.

"Ohh you thought that was good huh? You weren't saying all that when I was all over you the other day" she replied cockily, crossing her arms and staring at the camera.

"So you admit that you were all over me?"

"We were all over each other."

"Mhm. If I remember correctly, it was you who made the first move," I reminded her, "so shut all that shit up."

She playfully rolled her eyes and grabbed the phone, moving to lay down on her bed. A moment of silence washed over us as I watched her watch me, both of our smiles slowly growing at the eye contact. I didn't want to be the first to back down but I could feel the tension becoming too much for me to bear. I pretended to read over a paragraph in my chem textbook, not wanting her to notice the blush that had crept onto my face. It'd go straight to her head.

"What're you wearing?" her voice was low and suggestive through the phone, but her face displayed an expression of innocence.

"A t-shirt" I said, tilting the camera up as I displayed my 2019 cheer championship shirt.

She smirked, "What else?"

"Just my underwear" I said innocently.

"Oh yeah?" she raised her eyebrows. When I nodded my head she continued, "Can I see?"

I thought about it for a moment, lifting up to make sure my door was closed before making my decision. I pulled my covers down and raised the camera, showing off the bright pink thong that I had on.

"Mm mm mm!" Paige exclaimed dramatically, shaking her head with her fist to her mouth.

"Oh God shut up!" I laughed, putting the camera back down.

"What? You look good" she complimented simply.

"Thanks, wish you were here to prove it though" I said lowly.

I didn't know where my sudden boldness came from, maybe it was because I knew Paige wasn't actually here and I had no reason to be nervous. Anything I said or did right now would surely be forgotten by the time she returned for Christmas break.

"Just touch yourself and pretend its me" she laughed, but her eyes carefully scanned my face for my reaction.

"You would say something like that" I shook my head.

"Hey, desperate times call for desperate measures" she defended with her hand up. She went quiet for a moment when I didn't say anything. "Are you doing it?" she asked with high eyebrows, surprise laced in her voice.

"No! You're so dirty," I laughed, "I was getting comfortable."

"Mhm" she nodded.

"...Did you really want me to?"

She shrugged her shoulders, not looking at the phone. She definitely wanted me to. I bit my lip as I considered it. Paige was staring at me quizzically through the phone with one of her eyebrows cocked. I was getting turned on at the thought of pleasing myself, the thought of Paige's voice in my ear as she told me what to do and how to do it.

"Okay" I said, letting out a breath.

"Huh?"

"I'll do it" I elaborated.

"You don't have to, I was just-"

"I want to" I interuppted, rubbing my legs together under the covers.

"Really?"

"Yes, what do I do?" I asked.

"Wait, have you never done it before?" she sounded surprised.

"No...is that bad?"

Paige laughed and sat up a little straighter in her bed, "No Summer it's not bad it's just...surprising?" she corrected.

"Why is it surprising?"

"I don't know, I don't know."

"Alright whatever," I smiled, "you ready to do this?"

"Are you ready?" she redirected the question.

"Yeah go, go" I encouraged.

Paige laughed lowly, shaking her head. I moved to switch off my lamp and then laid back down. Paige had gotten comfortable as well; her head rested back against her pillow and her wrist was draped over her forehead.

"Okay now...run your hands up and down your thighs" she instructed after thinking for a moment. "Just your fingertips, slow" she added quickly.

I did as I was told, softly trailing my fingertips up to the edge of my underwear and then trailing them back down to my knees. It felt like electricity coursing through my fingers and leaving burn marks on my skin where they touched. I imagined it was Paige's hands, touching me with utmost delicacy as she always did.

"You like the way that feels?" she asked.

"Yeah" I answered.

I couldn't help but feel embarrassed at what I was doing. Not only was I masturbating for the first time in my life, but I was doing it on the phone with Paige. She couldn't see me, my phone sat next to my head facing toward the ceiling, close enough to where she could hear any noise that I made.

"I want you to move your hands up and down your cunt...be gentle" she said.

I bit back a laugh at the bluntness of her words and moved my fingers over my clothed clit. I was gentle like she told me to be, hardly pressing into myself at all.

"Do it three more times, and then I want you to stop."

I could feel myself growing wetter, hotter, needier. I bit down hard on my lip, preventing shaky breaths from leaving my mouth. My clit was becoming swollen, my entire pussy throbbing with the desire to be touched by me...by Paige.

She had fucked me so good before she left and I was aching for her to do it again. I wanted to feel every inch of her, her sweaty body on mine as we went round after round.

"Take two fingers and rub in that circular motion that I know you like" she said, I could practically see the smile on her face as she spoke. "Think about me when you do it, think about my fingers touching and teasing you."

I was even more turned on at the thought of Paige hovering over me, her long blonde hair falling like a curtain over me and tickling my face.

"How wet are you Summer?" she asked lowly.

I could feel my wetness grow and begin to drip out of me, if I told her how wet I was right now she'd never let me hear the end of it. A small whimper slipped past my lips, a cry of desperation.

"So wet" I breathed out.

"Yeah...good."

"Let's get those pretty panties out the way then" she smirked.

I pushed my hand down into my underwear all too quickly, dying to feel a more intense friction.

"You're rushing, I can hear you. Slow down or I'm gonna stop" she warned, her voice serious.

I stilled my motions.

"That's a good girl" she cooed condescendingly.

I was going to come quick, I knew I was. Paige talking me through this had to be the hottest thing ever. After a good game tonight I knew she deserved to unravel me the way she was, to listen to me crumble to pieces from instructions she was giving me.

"Slowly...put your fingers in. I want it so slow it almost hurts to do, you hear me?" she said.

"Mhm..."

"Words."

"Yes, yes I hear you" I whined.

I didn't waste anymore time inserting my ring and middle fingers, a dragged out gasp filling the room. I tightly pressed my lips together, that gasp turning into a moan.

All I could think about was Paige's proud face smirking down at me as her finger repeatedly pushed in and out of me, hitting all the right spots. I imagined her lips as they connected with mine, and then they moved to my jaw, and then to my neck, and down my chest...

"Go faster for me."

I ignored the slight stinging pain I felt as I pumped my fingers faster, it was enough for me to clench my jaw, but not enough to stop.

"Fuck you sound so good" Paige grunted, running her hands through her hair. "God I miss you."

I didn't bother to stop the smile that pulled at my lips, there were so many feelings running through me that I didn't know what to do with myself.

I ran my hand up my side to my chest, using it to squeeze my tits. I could hear my fingers going in and out, my juices running down my hand.

"Do you wanna come?" she asked.

"Uh huh" I moaned out desperately.

"I want to see you" Paige said, staring at the phone.

I didn't make a move for my phone, I could feel my walls tightening around my fingers. I would come any second.

"Summer," she called out, "be a good girl and let me see you."

I snatched the phone off the bed and held it in my hand, sitting up to lean on my elbow so she could see my face.

Her eyes were dark when they met mine through the screen, she licked her lips and smiled. "Come for me pretty baby"

That'll do it.

My mouth fell open as I released all over my fingers. It was almost as if my entire existence was slipping away, like everything I had accomplished was becoming undone. My body shook for a moment, and it felt like I was lying on clouds taking shots of Pink Whitney with Jesus Christ. Nothing was real.

If that's what giving myself an orgasm felt like, I was upset that I hadn't done it sooner. I laid there for a moment, coming back to my sense as I came down from my high.

"You okay over there?" Paige asked, her voice laced with amusement.

I laughed and brought the phone closer to my face, playfully narrowing my eyes. I got up from the bed and headed into the bathroom, setting up the phone to wash my hands.

"I've actually never done that before...like, talked someone through it like that I mean" Paige confessed.

"Aw, I took your phone sex virginity" I teased, rubbing the soap into my hands.

She snorted, "You're a cornball."

"Yes, yes, so I've been told."

IM SO SORRY THIS IS SO FKN RUSHED LIKEEEEE

but at least i tried yk

i haven't been in the smut mood ??????🫨🫨🫨🫨🫨

but like I told yall I need a little more practice, I just can't tell what's too much and what isn't enough WHERES THE LINE ????

but okay like any suggestions like...what do yall want to see next🙄?

#paige bueckers x reader #brother's best friend #paige bueckers #uconn wbb #wlw post #smut #ilovepaigebueckers

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massacredkitty · 7 months

Note

okay so I had a thought about ellie coming home from being with joel all day, because he wanted to show her his new big ass christmas tree. you’re in the kitchen cooking for a holiday party joel and ellie are hosting at his place. you’ve been at it for hours the fuzzy pajamas you had on hours before has resorted into ellie’s t-shirt barely covering your thighs. you didn’t even hear ellie come in as you were taking all the baked goods out the oven. it’s normal to gain holiday weight but ellie never noticed how plush your thighs, ass and hips have gotten, she couldn’t help but to blush staring and all. her tee keeps lifting every time you reach for something, are those her boxers? do your underwear not fit anymore and you didn’t tell her? yeah she’s gonna spoil you tomorrow morning and get you all new pretty cotton lace.

all she could selfishly think about is throwing all the food off the counter that you’ve worked so so soo hard on and just bending you over the sink and eating you out as an reward for all you’ve done, but she’ll just take you on the new sofa you two just bought best way to test it out right? - ⭐️

omg star i can’t even add anything this is just so ohhh my god

#— ⭐️anon #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams drabble

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felixdragonheartofficial · 3 months

Text

TFA TEAM PRIME HUMAN REDESIGNS FINALLY

FUCK

+headcannons

Optimus: gotta stay focused

looks too old compared to his bot form.

I find it impossible for Optimus to be more than a million years old in this canon. In the least, he's older than 1000 years and since we have mfs that are canonically over 70 million years old(fagatron iykyk) compared to that, he feels like a dude in his early-to-mid-30's being the group parent.

---

-I made him more youthful, gave him curly hair, and tailored his clothing to actually look like his bot form.

-workaholic

-on the cusp of barley being able to hold his liquor

-doesn't own a pair of pajamas until Sari gets some for him

-usually forgets to put them on, but appreciates the gesture

-stays active for like, 3 days until he can't fight off sleep with work brain anymore, and unceremoniously passes out on the couch to sleep for a full 24 hours

-ratchet sighs and puts a blanket over him as per routine

-frequently checks security feed

-elf on the shelf despiser

-early morning talks with jazz and ratchet over coffee (they all wake up at 6 am)

-half thrives on caffeine and a vigorous training protocol

-is a dog person, loves German shepherds to death

David sama, pls forgive me ily very much

Ratchet: to old for this nonsense

doesn't match his body type in the slightest.

Ratchet is really old, he's got a sallow face and a gramp gut, how dare they square him. He's wayyy too angular and peachy looking.

-I gave him his luscious curves back, adding all the equipment id expect a field medic to have because he is a field medic, not a regular doctor. I changed his facial proportions, and also made his face gaunt, for that dead inside PTSD look.

---

-drinks his coffee black with brown sugar, literally drinks it piping hot

-is one of those old people who complains about noise

-confiscates bumblebee and Sari's toy cars, and puts them in a high up cabinet

-neither of them know how to bypass the child safety lock lmao

-casual clothes includes a lot- a l o t of plaid shirts, and 10 pairs of the same blue jeans

-tunes out bulkhead and prowls convos about birdwatching

-big fan of political satire dramas

-Sentinel doesn't approve

-Ratchet doesn't give a rats ass about what he thinks of course

Bumblebee: professional smart-ass

doesn't match his body type/age.

Bumblebees holoform is presented as a 10-12 year old child specifically for the fact that he's short, and the comedic relief. Total ass

I set his human age as 19-20 years old, making him more of a big brother to sari because that og model is disappointingly lackluster

---

-Bumblebee is a scrappy wisecracking punk, like an adhd kid who just got roller skates for Christmas.

-since he doesn't have wheels, I feel like he'd wear skates instead to emulate the feeling

-terrible at watching where he's going cuz he's too busy trying to show off, so ratchet makes him wear all that padding + training wheels

-legit despises the padding and training wheels

-Jealous of Blurr for mastering roller blades lmao.

-his favorite games are choose your fighter and fps

-saw ONE ancient ass assassins creed playthrough and begged ratchet to install hidden tasers in his arm bands (was denied)

-Sari used her key to do it instead

-self appointed "rizzler"

-Optimus has zero idea of what that means and thinks it's code for something dubious

-Ratchet knows what it means and thinks it's silly

-"I' was something of a rizzler myself back in my day, kid"

-bumblebee cringes

-loves summer and swimming

-wants to be the fastest thing in the sea because y'know, it's bumblebee

-is spooked from the beach for awhile cuz he saw sharks in Prowls nature documentary

-there are infact, no sharks in lake Erie

Bulkhead: big guy, bigger heart

doesn't match his body type/aspirations.

Jesus fuck he's so wide?? And his belly migrated to his shoulders?? I'm gonna be honest, I really hate this design. I feel like it contributed to the "brute strength = stupid" take that most in the fandom associates with him.

---

-Bulkhead is a SWEET. CARING. NERD YOU FOOLS. He's like the male version of a tall goth gf-

-a tall-nerdy-farm hand-physics bf, You got me fucked up.

-Its already shown that bulkhead really likes art in Addition to creating it. He hates being only seen as the "muscle" so it wouldn't make sense for him to lean into that.

-bunny slippers that him and sari made together(she provided the buttons)

-the slippers go missing sometimes (basically considered community property unless he's wearing them)

(ratchet and prowl are the main offenders)

-frequent art museum goer

-really likes watching cooking shows, but is too shy to make food himself

-Owns a ton of star maps

-Really wants a treehouse that he, bumblebee and sari can hang out in

-pillowfort enjoyer

-casually reads quantum physics at the beach

Prowl: draft dodger

Doesn't look like him at all.

Prowls holoform being a mustachioed,white, police officer was an actual jumpscare for 7 y/o me, I kid you not

---

- I know this bitch would not wear a helmet (you can't force him to) que windswept hair

-Not as much as starscreams, for obvious reasons but yk

-prowl is like one of those "shoes are a prison for your feet"

-emo hipster

-has a pet cactus named "planty"

-bumblebee heckles him for it

-can and has brought his cactus with him on early evening motorcycle rides

-the helmet is reserved for his cactus, bring your own >:(

-salad consumer

-him and jazz share custody of the cactus

-repeat victim of the cat distribution system

-ratchet has probably spent hours telling him they can't keep any animals at base

-frequent midnight picnics with jazz

-and beachcombing

-and roaming around antique stores cuz jazz wants to know what vinyl records are

-got a mug with an attempted pink chibi cat with big round shiny eyes painted onto it, courtesy of bulkhead trying to find an artsyle

-cherishes this mug to death

-has a shrine dedicated to it

#tfa #decepticons #autobots #tfa headcanons #tfa optimus prime #tfa bulkhead #tfa bumblebee #tfa ratchet #tfa prowl #AUUUUUUGH #im gonna have a pole #optimus prime #bumblebee #bulkhead #prowl #ratchet #tfa sari #sari sumdac #sari mention

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uluvjay · 5 months

Text

Christmas away from home- J. Slafkovsky

Juraj Slafkovsky x fem! Reader

In which you do your best to make your boyfriends first Christmas away from home as special as possible

Warnings?; none really, pure fluff, some kisses and tears, talks of being away from home and missing family, poorly proofread so I apologize for any errors

Day 4 of my ficmas celebration!

“Have a good trip, I love you” You spoke softly against his lips as he gathered his things to exit the car.

“I love you to, call me before you go to bed?.”

“Of course.” You smile, giving him a wave as he looked back before his large frame entered the back of the bell center.

The team were going on a week and half road trip and that gave you the perfect amount of time to turn your and Juraj’s apartment into a winter wonderland.

Christmas was a few weeks away and you had noticed the sadness appear in your boyfriend’s eyes every time one of his teammates spoke about returning home for the holidays.

As a Montréal native you didn’t know how your boyfriend felt to be without his family for the holidays, but you were determined to do your best to make his Christmas feel as special as you could.

After Starbucks, multiple different stores, food, and a pretty dent in your bank account you found your way home. Bags littered the floor of the apartment as you tackled the tree first, doing your best to build the seven foot tree by yourself.

And while you successfully got the tree up yourself, you left the boxes of ornaments around the tree so you and Juraj could decorate it together.

Within the next few days you had made every room in the small apartment look like it came straight from a hallmark movie. And soon you were running to the door when you heard the key in the lock.

Opening the door Juraj was met with the sight of you in plaid pajama pants and white T-shirt, behind you in the living room stood a massive tree that was bright but bald, the mantle was decked with a beautiful garland and two stockings that had your initials on the front.

He could see a knitted blanket draped over the back of the couch; one that looked oddly like one of his mothers, and the mistletoe hanging in the entryway of the kitchen beside him had caught his eye.

“What’s all of this?” He smiled brightly, while he pulled your body into his arms.

“Christmas decorations.” You beamed, eyes searching his as they took in everything around him.

“It looks beautiful-did you get us matching pajamas?” He laughed finally noticing the matching pants in your arm.

“Yes, I know you’re missing being home and how upset you are that you can’t go back for the holidays so I wanted to try and make it as homey as possible.” You blushed when his eyes widened.

He looked down at you but he couldn’t speak, never in all of his years has anyone ever done something like this for him. And after countless years of spending his holidays alone and away from home, this had meant so much for him however he couldn’t make the thank you come out of his mouth.

“I know this is a lot, if you don’t like it we can take it down, I understand i shoul-“ you started but got cut off by the feeling of his lips against yours.

His large hands held your cheeks while his lips moved against yours, the kiss was full of passion and love, telling you everything he wanted to say without even having to speak.

“Thank you, I love it. And I love you.” He whispered, small tears hovering at his waterline.

“I love you to J.” You whispered back, a hand reaching for one of his that still held your face.

“Come on, let’s go decorate the tree and watch some movies. I have your mom’s cookies in the oven.”

#juraj slafkovsky #juraj slafkovsky imagine #juraj slafkovsky x reader #juraj slafkovsky fluff #nhl #nhl fanfiction #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #montreal canadiens #nhl blurb #nhl fluff #jay’sficmas

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proxima-writes · 5 months

Text

title: a very furby christmas

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x female reader

rating: t

word count: 3.6k

joel miller masterlist | all masterlists

summary:

it’s christmas eve 1998 and joel miller thinks everything is perfect.

well, until his brother admits he didn’t get sarah the one present she wanted - the furby. now, joel has to go out on christmas eve to find the year’s hottest toy that’s been sold out for months.

turns out, you’re on the same mission. and you’ve both found the last furby in town.

author’s note:

this is just a silly lil feel good holiday fic that’s been plaguing my brain. if you are too young to have experience the furby craze, i implore you to look it up. however, if you do remember, i hope this gives you a happy dose of nostalgia. gingerbread dividers by @saradika-graphics

tags/warnings:

pre-outbreak, no use of y/n, holiday/christmas fic, the last toy trope, no smut, age gap - not explicitly specified but joel is 31 and reader is mid-20s, the great miller gingerbread construction competition, operation get sarah miller a furby, some kissing.

“Dad! Wake up!” Sarah shouts, bursting into Joel’s room. She leaps onto the bed, bouncing on her knees and jostling him around on the mattress as he groans.

“Sarah, baby, it’s too damn early,” he says, pulling the quilt over his head. “Go back to sleep.”

“But it’s Christmas Eve!” The bouncing stops as she lays beside him, tugging the quilt down. “It’s time to make cinnamon rolls. And we gotta make cookies for Santa.”

Joel blinks, his daughter’s face coming into focus, bright brown eyes and a gap toothed smile filling his vision. Her hair is a wild mess from sleep and her unicorn pajama shirt is stained with toothpaste. At eight years old, she’s starting to lean out, her cheeks no longer as round and her limbs at that stage of awkward adolescent lankiness. He wants to sleep, wants a few more hours of rest after a jam packed holiday season of repairs and deadlines and supply issues, but looking at her smiling face and remembering that she’s getting older…

Well, that gets him moving.

“Alright. Let’s get downstairs and make Santa the best cookies he’s ever had.”

She squeals, scrambling off the bed and racing out of the room, light footsteps descending the stairs as he rubs the sleep from his eyes and gets up to find a t-shirt in the pile of laundry he’s neglected to put away, opting to dig through its wrinkled contents for what he needs each day instead.

He makes his way downstairs and to find his daughter rummaging through the fridge and pulling out eggs and milk for their customary Christmas Eve cinnamon rolls and the jangle of keys in the doorknob lets him know that Tommy has arrived.

“Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas, Millers!” His younger brother announces. “Sarah! It don’t smell like cinnamon in here!”

“Dad woke up late,” she shouts back. Tommy grins at Joel as he passes, slapping a hand on his shoulder.

“‘Course he did,” he says with a wink. Joel rolls his eyes as he gets the electric mixer from the top cabinet for Sarah and preheats the oven for her.

“Y’know, Santa can take all those presents he’s got ready for you and leave them at other houses for nicer kids,” he says. Sarah’s eyes go wide.

“He wouldn’t!” She yelps. “I’ve been good all year!”

“Don’t listen to your daddy, sweetheart. He’s just bein’ a sensitive Sally,” Tommy says. She breathes a sigh of relief, her attention returning to her task of cracking eggs.

“I just really hope Santa brings me a Furby,” she says wistfully. “I want one of ‘em so bad. Chrissy got one when they came out in October and they’re so cool!”

“I’m sure Santa will come through,” Joel says, catching Tommy’s eye and winking. Tommy’s brows pinch together as he mouths, “What?”

Joel widens his eyes at him, a look that screams, “What do you mean, what?!”

Tommy continues to look confused and Joel squeezes his eyes shut, turning back to his daughter to help her with rolling out the dough she’s mixed up. She continues to chat about her excitement for tomorrow, especially because her big sister has agreed to stop by in the morning.

“You didn’t forget that she’s coming, right?” Sarah asks.

“‘Course not, sweetie,” Joel replies distractedly. The hours Joel works aren’t always conducive to a prompt after school pick up, so most days Sarah spends time with a volunteer from the Empowered Girls program that she calls her “big sister”. He always forgets her name, but he knows she’s a student working on her master’s degree in elementary education at University of Texas. Did he forget she was coming? Yeah, maybe, but he’s got bigger problems right now.

Like the fact that Tommy is acting like he has no clue he was supposed to get Sarah that damn Furby for Christmas.

Once the cinnamon rolls are in the oven and Sarah returns to her room to get dressed for the day, Joel smacks Tommy on the back of the head.

“Ow! The fuck?” He asks, rubbing the sore spot. “What was that for?”

“Tell me you didn’t forget that perfect little girl’s goddamn talkin’ demon toy or I’ll do it again,” Joel warns, already raising his hand. Tommy scrambles from his seat, hands held up defensively as he backs himself up against the counter to get away from his brother’s assault.

“You didn’t tell me to get one!” He insists. Joel stares at him incredulously.

“I sure as hell did! I gave you fifty bucks three weeks ago and asked you to get one because I’d be workin’ OT until Christmas Eve and it would be too late by then!”

“I thought the fifty was for me. Like an early gift or somethin’.”

Joel closes his eyes and attempts to take a deep breath. When he opens his eyes, he feels no more calm as he looks at his brother.

“Great. Now I’m gonna have to go to the goddamn toy store on Christmas Eve to find one of these things.”

“I’ll go for you,” Tommy offers. Joel hits him with a look.

“No. I ain’t makin’ that mistake again. You’re stayin’ here with Sarah and I’ll go get the Furball.”

“It’s Furby,” Tommy corrects. Joel reaches out and smacks his head again before he can protect himself.

Sarah returns to the kitchen, dressed in her Rudolph t-shirt and jeans and smiling brightly as she says, “I’m ready to make cookies!”

Joel smiles apologetically. “Bad news, sweetheart. I gotta run down to a job site and check in on somethin’. Looks like a plumbin’ emergency.”

“On Christmas Eve?” She asks, smile dropping from her face. “But we have to make the cookies!”

“I know, I know, but Uncle Tommy will stay and help you. Ain’t that right, Tommy?”

“Yep. And we’ll make cookies better than any your daddy has ever made, too.”

Joel’s teeth grind together at the dig but he keeps smiling at his daughter. “Right. See? I shouldn’t be gone too long.”

“I guess,” she says forlornly. Her arms wrap around Joel’s legs and squeeze tightly. Joel smooths a hand over her wild hair, glaring at Tommy.

“Sorry, sweetie. But the sooner I head out, the sooner I can get back, okay?”

“Okay,” she mumbles against his thigh. “I’ll make sure Uncle Tommy doesn’t eat all the dough before we bake it.

“That’s my girl,” Joel says.

________

You knew you shouldn’t have waited this long to go shopping for your little sister’s Christmas gift, but you’d picked up extra shifts at your part time job since you weren’t flying home for the holiday break and time just slipped away from you. Now you’re entering your fourth store on a desperate hunt for the one toy she hasn’t stopped talking about since it came out in October.

“It’s called a Furby and the more you talk to it, the more it learns,” she told you, showing you the fluffy toy in a catalog one day. “Isn’t it so cute?!”

“It’s…something,” you replied, staring at its dead eyes. “And that’s what you want for Christmas?”

“Yeah, I don’t know if Santa will bring it for me. I told dad about it, but he’s been really busy with work and I don’t know if he remembered to tell Santa.”

You wander around the store, looking for the garish pink and blue sign that lorded over the toy display. You finally spot it, crossing your fingers as you quickly approach what looks like a mostly barren shelf. There’s something on the bottom row, but your experience in other stores has showed you that often people abandon their unwanted items in the Furby display, leading to false hope.

“Please, please, please,” You mumble, moving quickly now. You’re trying not to break into a run in the middle of the store but after so many disappointments, you can’t be blamed for your steps turning into a light jog.

A pair of unseeing mechanical blue eyes stare back at you from the bottom shelf as you get closer. Pristine white fur, pointed ears, and a little yellow beak encased in plastic.

The last Furby.

You’re so close to success you can taste it.

You reach for the toy, ready to scoop it into your arms and take a victory march to the lone cashier left working, when a tan hand emerges from your left, landing on the box just as you touch it.

“‘Scuse me,” a deep voice says, southern drawl blanketing the words. You look up, gaze meeting the warm brown eyes of a handsome man, tall and broad with messy dark curls. He smiles, all smooth charm as he says, “I’m goin’ to need this toy.”

You stand firm. “I think I was here first, sir.”

The charming smile drops. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Look, I need this toy for my daughter. I’ve been lookin’ for one all over town.”

You place your free hand on your hip. “I need it for my little sister and I’ve also been all over town today. If you needed it so bad, why didn’t you get it sooner?”

“Pot, meet kettle,” he replies. You roll your eyes. “Come on, please? Ain’t there somethin’ else your little sister is dyin’ to have?”

“She’s talked about this toy for months,” you tell him. “And she’s worried Santa isn’t going to bring it, so I wanted to make sure I got her one.”

He smiles softly. “Sounds like my daughter. She handed me no less than five letters to Santa to mail off askin’ for one.”

“So why didn’t you get one before tonight?” You ask curiously.

“My dumbass brother,” he says. “I‘ve been workin’ overtime for the last few months, so I told him to go out and get one. He didn’t listen.”

“That sucks.”

“What about you? What made you wait so long?”

It should probably feel weird, having a full conversation with a stranger while you’re in a stand off over a Furby, but the man’s smile has your stomach twisting, wanting to know more about him and oddly thrilled that he wants to know more about you, too.

“I picked up a lot of extra shifts since I’m on break. I go to UT,” you tell him. “Time just got away from me.”

“Yeah, I’m familiar with the feelin’.”

A crackle sounds over the store speakers, a bored voice announcing, “Attention Toys R’ Us shoppers. The store will be closing in five minutes. Please make your way to the front of the store to complete your purchases.”

The man’s expression grows panicked. You sigh, taking your hand from the box.

“Get it for your daughter,” you tell him. “Keep that Santa magic going for a bit longer.”

“Are you sure?” He asks. “What’ll you get for your sister?”

You look around the store, spotting a sporting gear display. You take off in its direction.

“I’ll figure something out!”

________

“It’s a Furby!” Sarah shouts, shaking the box in her excitement. “Look, dad! Santa got me a Furby!”

“Is that so?” Joel says, sipping from his mug of coffee with a splash of Bailey’s, his own personal Christmas tradition. “See? I told ya I sent out all those letters you wrote.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She chants, running around the family room in her red plaid pajamas. Tommy, still barely awake, nods as Sarah shows him the list of features on the back.

It’s close to 9 a.m. but the Miller brothers had a late night of wrapping presents and drinking whiskey in order to have the tidy pile of brightly colored boxes ready beneath the tree for Sarah in the morning. Joel had also gotten her a new journal and a pack of Jelly pens, a few bottles of nail polish, and two new Beanie Babies for her collection. Tommy had sprung for a set of shin guards for when she starts soccer in March, something she was excited for ever since the girl she’d been paired with in her big sister after school program had played with her a few times.

It’s not much, but it’s what he could manage. Sarah is happy, her eyes lighting up with each gift she unwraps, and that’s all that matters to Joel.

A knock sounds at the door and Sarah races down the hall, Joel trailing after her trying to remind her not to open the door to strangers. The young girl doesn’t listen, instead throwing open the door and launching herself into the arms of someone surprisingly familiar.

You look up, eyes going wide in surprise he’s sure mirrors his own. Sarah drags you in by the hand, excitedly introducing you, giving Joel a name for the pretty face he’d been thinking about all last night.

“Hi, I’m Joel,” he says, holding a hand out to you. You slip your palm against his, warm and smooth, shaking his hand. The smile on your face is mischievous, the secret the two of you share dancing in your eyes.

“Nice to meet you, Joel,” you tell him. “Hope I’m not too early, Sarah said you open presents around eight and to come after that.”

“No, no, ‘course it ain’t too early,” he assures you. He realizes he’s still holding your hand, even as silence settles between you. With a laugh, he draws back, running his hand through his hair nervously. “You want coffee?”

“Sure.”

Joel leads you to the kitchen where Tommy is pulling a fresh tray of cinnamon rolls from the oven under Sarah’s careful supervision. He whacks her hand with a dish towel when she tries to reach for the steaming hot dessert and she pouts pitifully. She spots the gift bag in your hand and her eyes light up.

“Is that a present for me?” She asks.

“Sarah Elizabeth Miller,” Joel chastises. You laugh, handing the bag over to her. She rips the tissue paper from the top, reaching in for her gift with a wide smile.

“A soccer ball!” She exclaims. “Dad, you can help me practice in the backyard now!”

You share a look with Joel, one where his gaze is filled with gratitude and yours reflects understanding. The moment is made brief by Sarah trying to bounce the ball on her knee, knocking it onto a counter and subsequently being told to go put it away for now.

You introduce yourself to Tommy while Joel pulls you a mug of coffee. Sarah brings her now unboxed Furby into the kitchen, setting it in a place of honor on the dining table.

“Dad, can you put batteries in Snowball?” Sarah asks. She turns to you. “That’s his name.”

“Oh. Hello, Snowball,” you say, voice serious as you regard the toy. Joel laughs while he digs around the junk drawer for the rogue batteries that hide beneath bills and takeout menus.

As breakfast is served and toys are turned on, conversation flows between everyone easily. It’s a wonder, Joel thinks. You fit right in with his little family, like you were meant to be there all along. Maybe it’s the Bailey’s in his coffee, or maybe it’s the spirit of Christmas, but he can’t help the warmth in his chest as he watches you help Sarah with the Furby that started it all.

________

You’ve been at the Miller house since early that morning, through all three meals of the day, many rounds of coffee, a screening of Home Alone and A Christmas Story, and painting your nails with Sarah. Not once does anyone make you feel like you’ve overstayed your welcome. In fact, as the day wears on, you can’t help but think that Joel, like you, doesn’t want the day to end. You keep catching his eye and the crooked smile he gives you leaves you feeling giddy.

After dinner, Joel and Tommy start gathering what looks like cookie decorating supplies. Sarah sighs and you turn to her with concern.

“It’s time for the gingerbread competition,” she says, more solemn than an eight year old ought to be. Joel leaves the room and returns with a caulking gun.

“Why does he have that?” You ask, watching as he loads a saran wrapped bag of icing into the chamber.

“They take this…very seriously.”

Tommy and Joel set up decorating stations on either end of the dining table, shooing you out of your seat. Sarah grabs a cookie from a platter on the counter and settles onto a barstool while you stand by, confused and maybe a little scared.

“Are you ready?” Sarah asks. Both men nod. “Start your construction!”

Joel and Tommy rip into the cardboard gingerbread house kits, determination in every move. Joel uses the caulking gun to lay a foundation for the floor of his house, followed by the sides and the roof in quick succession. While Joel is going for a well built structure, Tommy takes a more avant garde approach, using a combination of licorice and frosting to hold his house together.

“Are they always like this?” You ask, fascinated as you watch them.

“Sometimes they’re worse.”

Tommy chucks a peppermint at Joel’s head, the candy bouncing off his forehead and landing on his gingerbread shingles. He counters with a gumdrop that manages to hit Tommy square in the eye, angry curses falling from the younger Miller brother’s lips as he tries to recover and continue the construction of his mid-century cookie home.

“Quit fightin’ dirty,” Joel says when Tommy whines about him being unfair. “I‘ll only fight dirtier.”

You know that the words aren’t meant to be suggestive but you can feel your cheeks go warm nonetheless. The Furby in Sarah’s arms coos, a string of indecipherable words coming from its little yellow beak.

“What did it say?” You ask.

“I’m not sure. It’s still speaking Furbish,” she says.

“It said,” Joel chimes in, setting down his frosting gun, “that I’m the gingerbread construction champ.”

Joel’s little gingerbread house looks like it’s straight from a magazine. Perfectly built, structurally sound, and classically decorated with candy and sugar. You and Sarah both applaud as Tommy groans. His little house lists to the side and a glob of icing drips to the table.

“Don’t worry, Uncle Tommy,” Sarah says to her dejected uncle, patting him on the shoulder. “There’s always next year.”

“Alright, it’s time to start closin’ up shop. To bed with you,” Joel announces, steering Sarah for the stairs.

“Can’t I stay up later?” She complains. The Furby echoes her tone convincingly.

“I already fell for that last night. You’re not gettin’ away with it twice. Bed, and brush your teeth,” he replies, kissing her on the head. “Tell everyone goodnight.”

She hugs you and Tommy before heading upstairs, the Furby chirping as she goes. Tommy punches Joel lightly on the shoulder.

“You know I let you win, right?” He asks. Joel scoffs.

“The proof is in the cookie,” he says.

Tommy rolls his eyes. “Whatever, man. I’m headin’ home,” he says, hugging his brother. To your surprise, his arms wrap around you in a quick squeeze as well. “It was nice to meet you. Don’t be a stranger,” he tells you with a wink.

When the front door clicks shut, it’s just you and Joel in the kitchen. You’re inexplicably nervous now, despite spending the whole day with the man, and you busy yourself by loading the dishwasher with mugs stained by hot chocolate and coffee.

“You don’t have to do that,” Joel says, gently grasping your wrist. He removes the mug from your hand and sets it on the counter. He pulls you close, your chest brushing his as you take in a surprised breath. “This okay?”

“Yeah,” you murmur. Up close, you can see the stubble that’s grown along his jaw, the slight creases in the corners of his eyes, and that his nose is just the slightest bit crooked. A heavy palm rests on your lower back, the heat of him palpable even through your t-shirt.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, voice dropped low in the quiet room.

You nod, unable to form words, but that’s okay. His hand cups your cheek and his lips press to yours and your eyes flutter shut, a sigh escaping you as you lean into him. It’s soft at first, experimental. A tentative exploration of a broken boundary.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, holding tight as he parts your lips and his tongue tangles with yours. He tastes like sugar - peppermints and hot chocolate and cookies that he’s eaten throughout the day sweetening his kiss. When he pulls back for a breath, he dips his forehead against yours, smoothing his thumb across your cheek.

“Been wantin’ to do that all day,” he tells you. He kisses you once, twice, and is about to go in for a third when a voice from upstairs interrupts him.

“Dad?” Sarah calls. Joel steps back from you, leaning past the kitchen doorway to yell back a, “Yeah?”

“Snowball won’t stop talking,” she replies. Footsteps sound on the stairs and Joel breaks away from you as Sarah enters the kitchen, Furby in hand.

“Take the batteries out,” Joel suggests.

“I did.”

She turns the toy over, showing the empty battery compartment. Joel rubs the back of his neck as he thinks.

“Tell you what,” he says, holding his hands out for the toy, “Why don’t we stick it in the hall closet for the night?”

“Won’t he be scared?”

“It’s…it’s a toy, baby.” You stifle a laugh as he shoves the talking Furby beneath some towels in the linen closet and shuts the door. “There, now you can both get some sleep. You can play with Snowball again in the mornin’.”

Sarah yawns, nodding. Joel kisses her head before urging her back to bed. When he returns, his shoulders shake with silent laughter.

“What a weird toy,” you tell him, eyeing the closet suspiciously.

“Yeah, but it’s what got us here,” he says, pulling you into his arms once more.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel tlou #no use of y/n #joel x reader #no smut #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel miller the last of us #joel fic #joel the last of us #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character

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johnnydany · 1 year

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P Is For Playing Games St Patricks Day Funny Gamer T-Shirt

Get yours now: https://www.teepublic.com/t-shirt/38208605-p-is-for-playing-games-st-patricks-day-funny-gamer

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sam-loves-seb · 1 year

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steddie christmas party au

the thing is--there's an office holiday party coming up.

steve, who works as a guidance counselor at hawkins middle, knows that every year the staff throws a holiday party. he wasn't here for the one last year, off visiting nancy and robin in boston for the holidays, but everyone says it's always a good time and the teachers have all been hounding him to go.

the thing is--he wouldn't even mind going alone. he actually likes some of his co-workers, and he has enough natural charm to survive one night of bad food and christmas music and punch that's just a little too strong to have more than two glasses without getting wasted. he knows that he could go alone and everything would be fine.

but he doesn't really want to.

"plus one?" the school secretary says with raised brows as he hands in his rsvp card. "i didn't know you were seeing anybody."

steve just shrugs as he turns to head back to his office. it's not like people haven't tried to pry into his love life before--some of the female teachers make their availability blaringly obvious to him every time he answers the question "do you have a girlfriend" with "no"--they just haven't gone about it in the right way.

it's not like he's hiding his relationship, people just assume, and they assume incorrectly. that's not his fault.

"the staff christmas party?" eddie asks that night as they're getting ready for bed. "you seriously want to go to that?"

"you don't have to come," steve tells him around a mouthful of toothpaste, then spits. "i just thought it might be nice for you to meet some of my co-workers, and for some of them to meet you. but if you don't want to come with me, that's okay, really."

"babe, if you want me there, i'm there," eddie tells him as he ditches his jeans for flannel pajamas. "just don't be surprised when i get tipsy off the punch and make a fool out of you on the dance floor."

and so, they went to the party with steve dressed in his usual khakis with this favorite ugly christmas sweater worn over a casual dress shirt, and eddie in his usual black on black, though he switched the band t-shirt for a button-up. he added a red tie last minute to try and be more festive for the party, even though steve kept telling him he could wear whatever he wanted.

they walk into the gym hand in hand, and more than a few people stop talking to turn and stare.

but eddie's not paying attention because he's looking at the tinsel hung up on the walls and wondering how they got it that high up, and steve ignores all the surprised faces looking at him until he spots his group of friends tucked together in the corner, some with their spouses, some without.

he drags eddie over to them and introduces him as his boyfriend--saying it loud enough for every goddamn eavesdropper to hear it clearly--and eddie shakes hands and smiles as steve's friends greet him without missing a beat.

they eat and they drink and they dance, and most of the party gets over their initial shock pretty quickly after seeing how happy steve is with eddie around. the rest of the night goes by quickly, and someone even snaps a picture of steve kissing eddie under the mistletoe hanging over the gym door.

by the time the students come back from break in the new year the rumors about mr. harrington sexuality are basically non-existent--thank you short attention spans--and most of the teachers have stopped asking him if he has a girlfriend. steve feels like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders, one he didn't even realize he was carrying. it's freeing, having everyone--everyone who matters--know about about eddie.

and when the staff christmas party rolls around again next year, steve has twice as much fun dragging eddie under the mistletoe with a ring on his finger and a date picked out for the spring.

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thomasdaniel91 · 1 year

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This Is My Christmas Pajama Santa Hat Gamer Video Game T-Shirt

Get yours now: https://www.teepublic.com/t-shirt/37221926-this-is-my-christmas-pajama-santa-hat-gamer-video-

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jo-harrington · 10 months

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Peak Sales Hours (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: After his first Black Friday, Eddie is exhausted and takes comfort in his new relationship with you.

Previous Part: Promotion

Warnings/Themes: Established friendship/new relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort(?), idk it's a lot of comfort, working in retail hell, Eddie works at Tape World and Reader is the Store Manager at Claire's in Starcourt Mall, angry customers, weariness

Note: So...hi guys. Welcome back to the Store Manager Verse. This little installment is sort of skipping a step. I had a whole thing planned and half-written of Eddie and our favorite SM actually confessing their feelings and being fluffy...and it's still gonna happen I'm just...on day whatever of work and have a big deadline and have had sleep for lunch the past I-don't-know how many days.

And it just took me back to the countless Black Friday and Peak Holiday shifts where all I wanted was to get back home. So here we are.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

___

Never, in his entire life, had Eddie Munson felt more akin to the heroes from his favorite fantasy stories.

Long journeys and harrowing battles.

Deep wounds and comrades lost to the beyond.

Hoards of villains and the promise of a better future if only there was hope.

Taran. Aragorn. Luke Skywalker. They had seen it all.

"What's taking so long? I just need a gift receipt!"

But none of them had ever worked Black Friday.

He had experienced Black Friday before, as a shopper.

Thanksgiving hadn't ever been anything magnificent in the Munson household, especially after his mom died. Wayne and Rick had always tried to make it still feel special for Eddie, with hearty midwest comfort foods.

There would always be a full belly and an even fuller heart with his uncle and his almost-step-dad around. Eddie could never complain.

Then after a late afternoon dinner, Wayne would pack up a plate of leftovers to make his shift at the plant that paid time-and-a-half, plus a little something extra from the plant manager, cash in hand. By the time Eddie woke up the next morning, Wayne would pull up with a box of fresh donuts, honk three times, and they would be on their way to the Kmart on Rt 9 and get some steeply discounted goods with Wayne's holiday pay.

It was always a madhouse, but Eddie could swiftly dodge screaming kids, empathize with over-caffeinated employees, and wait in long lines if he and Wayne didn't need to fret about things like work boots and gloves, t-shirts and underwear, and usually one nice little Christmas gift for each of them.

This year, of course, had been a little different. Wayne had been a little disappointed--he would never admit it, but Eddie could tell--that their tradition would be forsaken for Eddie's shift at the mall. But your addition into the Thanksgiving festivities had been a welcome one.

Eddie had extended the invitation weeks ago, when you mentioned you wouldn't be able to make it home to spend the holiday with your family thanks to work.

You, of course, promised to pull your weight--

"It's always really casual," he tried to ease your worries as you began to fret over what kind of dessert Wayne and Rick might like. "You don't even need to dress up. Come in your pajamas. Rick makes a really good pumpkin pie, and I have my mom's old scalloped potato recipe that will literally put you in a food coma."

"What about turkey?" you asked.

"We don't really do turkey." He shrugged. "There's only three of us. So we do different things every year. Rick usually catches some kind of fish if it's warm enough. Wayne has a good recipe for fried chicken. We were thinking of doing meatloaf..."

"I can do the meatloaf!" You perked up immediately.

--only to show up laden with a roasting pan for the meatloaf, a plastic-wrapped gravy boat full of some kind of mushroom gravy, a salad, and a casserole dish overflowing with green beans, cream-of-something soup, and heaps of french fried onions.

Eddie, of course, scolded you as you shuffled through to the kitchen, much like he had the first time you showed up for dinner at his place. But he also placed a soft peck on your lips, which earned him a bashful smile as you shoo'd him away.

That was a new development to your...friendship, if you could even call it that anymore. There really hadn't been time to discuss the logistics between the frenzied makeout session in his van outside of the Hideout this past Tuesday night and Thanksgiving dinner.

Now that he had been trapped at the cash wrap, ringing out ungrateful customers for the past 8 hours, he was almost loathing his past self for wanting to be a little discreet in front of Wayne and Rick. For not...making himself have the "what are we" conversation with you, because your lips had soothed every frazzled nerve he had the other night.

Knowing that at the end of the day that he wasn't going through it alone, that his girlfriend was also in the mall suffering through the mass chaos and that he could go upstairs and steal a kiss whenever he wanted...well it certainly would have done him a world of good to mentally prepare him for this.

For the entirety of his time working at Tape World, he thought he had been doing a pretty good job. Sure there were some hard days, some rude customers. But at the end of the day, an 8-hour shift was an 8-hour shift, and he was only selling tapes. Not...ending world hunger.

"Ah you say that now," Kyle told him on Wednesday as they were putting together cardboard "dump bins" for the discount tapes that would be placed every 10 feet in the store. "But Black Friday is a beast, and Christmas Eve is worse. You're honestly lucky you only work here and not at, like, Radio Shack or something. My buddy Todd has seen some shit.

"Actually, I'm almost regretting scheduling you as a mid but I needed a second key." Kyle rubbed the back of his neck. "Peak Hours. Mid's a rough shift for Black Friday weekend."

"I'll be fine," Eddie scoffed. "I've done mid shifts before. I'm almost excited. How bad could it get?"

Famous. Last. Words.

He had barely been able to squeeze into the store when it was time for his shift, the line for the cash wrap blocked the way to the stockroom door. As soon as people saw his name tag, they started shouting at him to open the other register, how they needed help; he could barely get a word out to explain that he wasn't clocked in yet. They didn't care.

He was no longer Eddie Munson, Tape World Keyholder and your boyfriend, probably, maybe...

He was a body who could unlock the electronics case and ring them out.

He was a husk who said "welcome in" and "thanks have a great day" and smiled until his face started hurting.

And for the first time since he had gotten this job back at the beginning of summer...it really fucked with him.

His legs were cramped from standing at the Cash Wrap for so long, he wasn't sure which of the associates had his keys, his hair was damp with sweat even if he threw it into a some haphazard bun hours ago.

He'd been yelled at by more people than he could count, counted so much change the edges of his fingers were pretty much stained from all the muck and grime on everyone's money, and had made so many returns from people with buyer's remorse that he was sure they had given more money back than they had made in sales today.

Eddie hadn't even gotten a chance to take his lunch out in the mall and pay you a visit like he typically would. He had just collapsed in the little metal folding chair in the break area of the tiny stock room. Kyle had clapped him on the shoulder with a quick "good job kid" as he left for the day and Eddie hadn't even moved.

"Alright Ed," Paulie shuffled over as Eddie wrapped up the last in a long line of transactions and was about to wave the next customer over. "Quitting time."

Eddie sighed and backed against the counter as Paulie counted him down. The adrenaline of the day finally started to wear off as he came to realize that it was all over, and a weariness unlike the one he had been feeling his entire shift settled deep into his bones.

He went through the motions as he went back to the stockroom to grab his jacket and punch out. He wove his way through the still-crowded store and out into the mall, sighing in relief as the cooler mall air hit him.

It was gonna be a mercy once he got out to his van. He'd drive home with the windows down.

His ears rang as he headed towards the employee entrance and he wondered if it would be worth waiting in line at the Orange Julius before he left or if he should just stop through the McDonald's drive thru or something on his way home.

"Eddie."

But then, he didn't really need to stop for anything. There were leftovers from Thanksgiving dinner at home. He could smoke a little bit, make some kind of meatloaf sandwich, and then sink into his bed.

"Eddie."

And sleep until...

Fuck.

He was gonna have to do it all again tomorrow. And the day after that.

He thought back to his favorite fantasy heroes and wondered how they did it. How they put themselves through endless journeys, practically sacrificed themselves time and again.

And he could barely make it through a shift at the Starcourt Mall of all places.

"Eddie!"

He crashed right into your hands as you planted them on his shoulders and prevented him from absolutely barreling into you.

"Jesus are you ok?" you exclaimed and pulled him off to the side of the walkway to get out of the way of foot traffic.

Was he? Probably not.

"Yeah," he shook his head and answered. He finally looked at you, finally actually saw you. Dressed in your Teen Vogue best, as you called it, although a little worse for wear, if the eyeshadow smeared where it definitely shouldn't be and your jewelry all askew was any indicator. "Yeah I'm fine.

"You sure? You looked like you were in a trance," you explained. "I've been calling your name for a little while."

"Oh shit," he sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Yeah, no...it's...It was just a long day."

You didn't hesitate. Your arms immediately wrapped around him and you pulled him in. Pulled him back from whatever precipice he was about to launch himself off of, and straight into the comfort of you.

---

Before long, Eddie found himself in your apartment, fully upside down with his legs propped against the wall as he enjoyed the Blizzard he'd picked up on the way.

"You know just cuz you can hold it upside down, doesn't mean you're supposed to eat it upside down," you laughed as you filled a pot with water and put it on the stove.

"And what are you, the Blizzard expert," Eddie scoffed. "If you'll recall I was the one who took you to Dairy Queen for the first time."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." You rolled your eyes and turned to grab some cans from the cupboard.

You had offered to make dinner--again--while he vented about his shift. Nothing as spectacular as what you made for Thanksgiving dinner, but it left the leftover meatloaf for Wayne to take for his lunches.

"You're lucky I like your spaghetti sauce," Eddie grumbled, a little sad that he couldn't have his meatloaf sandwich.

So he talked as you ran to your bedroom to rid yourself of the remnants of who you became when you were at Starcourt, and as you emerged the person that, he liked to believe, was reserved especially for him.

He told you about the back to back returns he had dealt with when he came back from lunch as you dropped dried pasta into the boiling water and grated garlic into sizzling oil.

He complained about the man who demanded help from a manager only even though all he wanted was a special edition cassette deck that had all the bells and whistles and anyone with keys could help him. His voice got louder and meaner as he quoted the jackass verbatim, but the sharp strike of your wooden spoon against the side of the pot brought him back down to earth.

And as he finished up his story about having to count Sam's register three times because he forgot that there were large bills under the cash tray, you joined him on the couch with a bowl of steaming hot pasta for each of you.

He righted himself and discarded the empty blizzard cup on your coffee table.

"First Black Friday in the books," you announced and you passed the bowl to him. "I'm proud of you."

"Proud?" Eddie groaned. "Seriously? It was a disaster."

"They always are," you explained sagely.

"You survived," he pointed out.

"So did you."

"Barely."

"So?" you asked and twirled noodles on your fork expertly. "Doesn't that count? This is, like...my 5th Black Friday? My 6th? I count each one as a victory. And so should you."

You leaned over to kiss his cheek, then clinked plates with his in a salute, and then the two of you fell into contented silence as you ate.

As Eddie worked ravenously through the layers of starchy, cheesy, garlicky goodness, he realized that the weariness that had settled within him after his shift had started to alleviate. How he felt more like himself now that he was sitting next to you, basking in the warm glow of your company.

He briefly considered this ritual the two of you had been engaging in for months. The way you shared stories and foods and got closer to one another. He had always been a little worried that things would change if he ever got his wish, if this friendship with you ever became more.

But it was like nothing had changed at all.

He wanted to ask, was tempted to ask, what this was? If this was a date, like all the dates that weren't dates hadn't been before? If you were his girlfriend now?

But then...he recalled the time that you had a bad day and you immediately found relief in him, how he thought that he didn't need to be your knight as long as he could be your home.

And Eddie realized that whatever the two of you decided it would be, whether you were still just his friend, or if you were his girlfriend, or maybe...maybe something else...

You, too, would always be his home at the end of a long battle.

---

Next Part: Disaster Preparedness

Tag List for Store Manager Verse is still temporarily suspended. Thank you for understanding.

#Eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson fic #Eddie munson stranger things #stranger things fic #Eddie munson #Eddie munson fluff

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satorisoup · 4 months

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Hi! I'm requesting Suna and "you're going to freeze" for the Christmas event. Thanks very much! I don't live in a place where it gets cold (or snows) so this is a perfect scenario for imagining. Thanks again!

“YOU’RE GOING TO FREEZE.”

˚✧₊ FT. RINTAROU SUNA

satorisoup christmas event! ⛄️

˚✧₊ A/N : my first drabble for my haikyuu christmas event! i loveeeee suna rawr.

˚✧₊ WARNINGS : f!reader.

its a brisk morning in your home, the sheets of your bed are cold and the sky shines through the curtains with grey clouds.

suna lays next to you with an arm outstretched over his head, soft snores leaving his mouth in quiet breaths as your lashes flutter open.

you untuck yourself from bed and allow your sock covered feet to hit the floor, getting up to open your curtains before cracking a window open.

the streets and grass are covered in white and a cool breeze makes it through your window. snowflakes are still coming down to hit the floor before you’re immediately turning to suna to wake him up.

“wake up, rin wake UP!”

his body is now turned to you before your dragging his arm to make him get out of bed. you’re dressed in your pajama shorts and a thin t-shirt, making a dash for the front door with sunas forearm still wrapped your hand.

“it snowed, i wanna go outside!”

you’re sliding your feet into slippers before opening your front door. the air outside sends a shiver to suna as you take a step out. suna reluctantly follows suit after putting on a jacket.

your standing in your front yard in bliss, flakes of snow covering your hair as your nose turns to a dusty pink from the air.

“you’re going to freeze.” suna says to you, his eyes squinted as he buries his nose into the collar of his coat.

you’re still dressed in your pajamas without a care in the world. you smile at suna before laughing it off, and your breath can be seen with each exhale.

its cold, freezing, you know. you’re aware that if you spend even a few more minutes out here, you might catch a cold and have to spend the next few days wrapped in bed with medicine at your bedside table.

suna is aware of that fact too.

but for now, he’ll watch you laugh and gather snow in your red hands, and he’ll take some pictures to keep in his phone and live in the moment. and after he tells you to ‘get back inside and put on a coat before you turn into an icecube’, he cant help himself when you ask,

“cmon rin, just a few more minutes?”

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vetteltea · 5 months

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Sebastian Vettel and Baking Christmas Treats [no warnings]

Day 3 of the Vetteltea Advent Calendar

You have never been able to understand how your husband brings such a gentle wave of peace to a household, but you would never complain.

Complaining would be pointless, especially when the ability to keep such a peaceful home had gained you an extra hour in bed that morning. It would have been so simple to let sleep overtake you, bury your head into your husband’s pillow and drift back into slumber, but curiosity had taken the better of you.

For a start, there was music coming from downstairs, upbeat, festive songs floating through the open-plan kitchen and up the stairs. You could hear his voice, singing along to each song which came on, only seemingly more performative in his vocals as they continued. Without hesitation, you slipped on the dressing gown which he had lovingly left at the end of your bed, adjusting the blankets on the bed and slipping away from the bedroom.

“Sweetheart?” Your footsteps were clearly not as subtle as you had intended. It either must have been that or the fact that you had stepped on the one creaky stair; both of you kept reminding one another it needed fixing, though with the life you both lead, sometimes it was easier to place a job aside for another day. “Are you coming to join?”

Stepping into the kitchen, you were certain you felt your heart melt and rejoin in various patterns. Your husband stood at the counter, blonde curls which he had finally let you trim still as unruly as when you had first met. He’s wearing an old t-shirt, his pajama pants are clearly stained, though to you he is still the most handsome man in the universe. In one hand, he holds a baking tray, shortbread biscuits already baked and if your visual clues are correct, ready for decorating. In the other, a blinking, smiling one-year-old, her curls identical to her father, but blessed with your eyes.

“Good morning, Momma!” His voice raises an octave, gently bouncing your daughter in his grasp and placing down the baking tray, his free hand now motioning you over. Your routine settles in, pressing a soft kiss to your daughters forehead, another to Sebastian’s lips.

“Are we decorating, then?” You adjust the sleeves of your dressing gown, making sure that they won’t dip into the icing or sprinkles he had already bought out. It had become a tradition when you were first dating, long before the birth of your daughter or even moving in together; the first weekend of December was for making Christmas Cookies and watching movies. Whereas last year was some slapstick about a holiday romance, you were more than excited to flick back to an animation this year for the youngest member of the family.

The youngest member in question has already transfixed onto the bright colors of the icing and sprinkles, cooing loudly and attempting to reach her tiny hand to grasp at the decorations. Your husband has always been a firm believer in physical development, hence why he gently leant forward, letting her hands grab onto what he thought would be one of the cookies they had baked whilst you had been asleep.

It all happens too quickly for you to stop; one hand dips into the royal blue icing before lifting dramatically at the sensation, flinging her tiny paw away from the counter and into your husband’s face, his chin and lips now frosted in icing.

For a moment, you think you’re about to have a crying baby and an annoyed husband - but, this is Sebastian. More importantly, his daughter inherits so many of your traits, though one which he holds close to his heart; the ability to laugh and smile anything off. Immediately, your daughter falls into a bout of giggles, her father being painted bright blue clearly amusing.

And of course, you can’t disagree, laughing alongside the baby as you walk over to the drying rack, collecting some kitchen paper to wipe away the frosting.

“Thank you, my darling.” He shakes his head at the grinning baby, still in fits of giggles as you gently take her hand, wiping away the remaining icing, before turning the attention to your husband, gently cleaning his jaw and chin. When the icing only remains on his lips, you pull away, smirking.

“I think you missed-” He begins, before realizing your intentions, his own grin mirroring your own. Lips are finally back on his own, the feeling of kissing you always identical to the first time; how his heart had raced and was shocked to believe it was actually happening. You were kissing him.

He would have kept it up, completely forgotten the cookies for another hour, if he hadn’t felt a tiny hand on his cheek, a whine from his daughter. The moment he pulls away, her tiny face is pressed to yours, adamant that she now wants kisses from her mama. The two of you trade her off, letting her nuzzle into your chest and blink up at your face whilst keeping eye contact with her father.

“Traitor.” He mumbles. “My own girls are against me!” It’s said with nothing but the sincerest amount of love, really.

“Awah, she just wants to decorate cookies, don’t you?” Your attention presses to look at the baby, kissing the top of her forehead. Sebastian doesn't hesitate this time in stepping forward, his arm around your shoulder as you both step back towards the cookies, keeping traditions whilst adding a third member to the memories.

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