#I spent all Christmas Eve making this... so tired
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dammek-time · 1 year ago
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silhouettecrow · 1 year ago
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365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 358
Adjective: Screeching
Noun: Pollution
Definitions for those who need/want them:
Screeching: (of a person or animal) giving a loud, harsh, piercing cry; making a loud, harsh, squealing noise; moving rapidly with a loud, harsh, squealing noise; a sudden sense
Pollution: the presence in or introduction into the environment of a substance or thing that has harmful or poisonous��effects
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lovesickhughes · 2 months ago
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BUY ME PRESENTS — quinn hughes x reader
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a/n: here is another fic for my holiday series ‘meet me under the mistletoe’!! this is actually my first ever quinn fic and i wrote it all in one sitting, and enjoyed every second of it! fun fact, this fic is actually inspired by my own parents’ proposal that i recently watched for the first time, and it was too adorable not to be inspired by it!! i hope you have enjoyed the series so far, and there is more to come! happy reading 
tags: quinn hughes x reader
warnings: making out (a decent amount, but who wouldn’t want to make out with quinn), FLUFF 🥹
word count: 2.6k
series masterlist
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
Christmas time with the Hughes was something you had quickly come to love and look forward to each year in the past four years of being with the Canucks’ captain, Quinn. The family made it their mission to make you feel as welcomed and accepted as possible, and there was never a doubt they treated you like their own daughter since beginning your relationship with Quinn. 
This year, with the Canucks schedule having a game two days before Christmas, Quinn and you had arranged to spend Christmas day at your shared Vancouver apartment before flying to Michigan to join the rest of his family at their lake house for the rest of the Christmas break before flying back home for the New Year’s Eve game a week later. That being said, this Christmas would be more special than the previous years, as it would be Quinn and your first Christmas spent together without being surrounded by either of your extended families. 
The anticipated holiday was two weeks away, and like every year before, you were finalizing all your planned gifts, only having to shop for a few more items before wrapping all of the presents you had purchased for Quinn, his family, your own family and your small circle of friends. 
Quinn had been awake before the sun had even risen, having an early morning practice with his team, before heading home for the rest of the Saturday to spend with you. The two of you had planned a few weeks back to spend today as time to shop for any last minute gifts you needed to give to your family and friends, and you both decided that after your errands had been run, you would spend the rest of the evening cuddled up on the couch watching your favourite Christmas classics with warm mugs of hot chocolate with candy canes dipped in the drink. 
While you were fast asleep, you felt the shift in the bed from behind you, indicating Quinn was up and getting ready to leave for practice. Half asleep, you heard him quietly rustle around for his clothes to be worn to practice, before you heard his feet pad against the wooden floors and the door of the ensuite bathroom quietly click shut. 
You rolled over in bed, pulling the cloud-like comforter over your shoulder and nuzzling farther into the comfortable mattress beneath you as your tired state still took over. 
It wasn’t long before Quinn had exited the bathroom, his feet softly thudding against the floor, getting louder as he approached your side of the bed and you instinctively felt his presence hover over you as you battled between your sleep-like state and waking up. 
You could hear Quinn’s soft breaths come close to your ear, as he placed a soft kiss against your temple, his hand coming up to brush your hair that was messily scattered on your face, out of the way to make you more comfortable. 
“I’ll see you later today, okay?” Quinn mumbled against your temple, placing another delicate kiss against your skin. The vibrations of his voice being sent through your skin and body made you stretch your limbs out in response as you slowly came to wake. 
You hummed in response, still too tired to put together any real words. 
“Love you, baby.” He said as he pulled away and began to walk towards the door to the master bedroom. 
“Mm, love you.” You mumbled against the side of your pillow, your face being squished against the silk material of your pillowcase. You heard Quinn chuckle to himself before exiting the room and heading towards the main area of your shared apartment, not long before hearing the sound of the front door shut as he headed out for the day. 
A few hours later, once feeling rested enough and cherishing the chance to sleep in on a Saturday, you began your day, putting together a breakfast meal and making a cup of coffee before planting yourself on the white couch in the living room, turning on the TV and watching the highlights of Friday night’s games. 
After you finished your meal and coffee, cleaned your dishes and changed for the day, you gathered your purse, keys and phone before slipping on your blundstone’s and rain coat, anticipating Vancouver’s rainy winters. 
You quickly made your way to the parkade of the apartment complex, before setting off to shop for a few more items you had on your list for a few of the other wives and girlfriends of the Canucks that you had come to be close friends with over the years.
Three hours had passed by the time you were heading back up to your apartment, multiple bags being hung on each of your arms. To say you didn’t go a little overboard on Christmas shopping would be an understatement; but you convinced yourself it was just your love language. 
You fumbled with your keys in your hand, sliding the key into the lock of the door before turning it and opening the door in a swift movement. Entering the apartment, you could hear the noise from the TV emitting in the house, indicating Quinn had made it home before you did. You thought to yourself, it was odd that he was home much earlier than his usual time when he had early morning practices. You checked your phone to see the time read that it was only 12:30pm; usually Quinn doesn’t get home closer to two o’clock. 
Furrowing your eyebrows you slipped off your shoes and walked quickly into the apartment, in search of your beloved brunette, only to find him in the kitchen, cooking some sort of lunch. 
“Hey, babe, I’m home,” you trailed off, squinting your eyes in confusion as he turned to you. Quinn quickly made his way to you, his arms slipping to your waist as he pulled you in for a kiss. 
Shocked at his affection, it took you a moment before you melted into the feeling of his lips against yours. It was a soft, but passionate kiss, Quinn’s hand coming up to cradle your jawline, he deepened the kiss, his tongue tracing your lip, waiting for permission, which you quickly granted him as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. Your breath hitched, quickly dropping the bags that hung heavily on your arm as you then brought your own hands up to the nape of his neck, tangling your fingers in his luscious brown hair. Quinn’s hand that still rested on your hip gripped your side tighter, pulling your body in even closer to be flush against his own broad figure, and you tilted your head into the kiss, deepening it further. 
You pull away, a shocked expression written on your face, “why hello,” you chuckled, reaching to softly pinch his cheek. “You’re quite excited to see me.” You said as you grabbed the bags you had just placed to the ground, moving them over to the island counter and setting them on the surface. Quinn trailed behind, his hands finding your sides once again as his head fell into the crevice of your neck, inhaling your scent as his nose tickled your skin.
“Missed you this morning,” he mumbled, placing wet kissing against your skin. You turn around in his embrace to face him, pouting slightly in adoration. 
“So waking up next to me wasn’t enough?” You giggled in question.
“Oh, it was,” Quinn smirked, clearly showing he was deep in thought of waking up beside you, legs tangled together. 
You hum at his response, “that’s what I thought.” Letting out a quick giggle. 
Quinn resumed cooking his lunch while you took the gifts you had purchased to your room and put them in your closet alongside the other gifts you had purchased earlier in the month. 
Coming back down to the kitchen and living room, you grabbed a quick snack and water, placing yourself beside Quinn on one of the barstools that hid under the counter of the island. Pulling out your phone and scrolling through your notifications and feed, Quinn and you sat in a comfortable silence. That was one of the things you cherished about the relationship you had with Quinn; you were so comfortable with each other that there were moments in time where no words needed to be spoken, you were content with just being in the presence of each other. 
Quinn finished up his meal, placing his plate in the dishwasher and cleaning up any other messes around the kitchen, before he walked around the island to come back to being beside you, wrapping his arms around your torso from behind and tightly hugging you. 
You look up from your phone and turn your head to look at him, “you’re being awfully affectionate today,” you remarked, shining him a smile. Quinn shrugged his shoulder, continuing to hug you. “What are you up to?” 
“Nothing,” he replied, nuzzling his head into your shoulder. “C’mere.” He said as he stood up from hugging you, grabbing your hand and pulling you to your feet. He pulled you into his side and directed you to the living room, where the Christmas decorations Quinn and you had set up made the area feel as cozy and festive as you could imagine. 
Quinn guides you to the couch with a hand on the small of your back, and you plop down onto the cushion with him, his arm still wrapped around your shoulder as you snuggle into his side.
Quinn lifted his free hand to your chin, tilting your head to meet his lips, bringing you into a short, sweet kiss. When you pulled away, you had a squint in your eyes, trying to figure out why Quinn was being so affectionate towards you. That wasn’t to say he wasn’t typically affectionate, but his actions today, mirrored when he was scheming something. 
“What are you up to?” You press.
“Nothing,” he claimed as he paused quickly after, wanting to continue his sentence before cutting himself off.
“No, it’s not nothing,” you protest, “you’re hiding something.” You say as you point your finger at him. 
He sighs nervously, drawing confusion on your face at his quick demeanour change. 
“Well, you’re right, it’s not nothing,” he said, “I got you an early Christmas gift, okay?” He said nervously through a shaky breath. 
You giggle, “that’s it? You don’t have to be so nervous about that, my love.” You exclaimed, reaching to massage his shoulder. 
“That’s the thing,” He continued, making a pit form in your stomach; realizing he was indeed hiding something. “I wanted to do something special for you for this Christmas, and that’s why I suggested we spend Christmas day together, just the two of us, okay?” He reassured you, earning a slow nod in response from you for him to continue. “I just want you to know how much I love you, and how much you have changed my life for the better. Since we got together, you have completed me as a person, and I don’t know what I would do without you.” He exclaimed. Your eyes had now begun to fill with tears at his heartfelt compliment to you, and you scooted yourself closer to him, wrapping your own arms around him into a hug while still looking into his mesmerizing eyes. 
“Now, I want you to go and look for your gift, it’s in the tree.” He directed, nodding his head in the direction of where the Christmas tree was set up. “I can come with you if you want.” He quickly added, reassuring you of his support. 
You nervously nodded your head to have him join you and you both stood at the same time, cautiously walking over to the faux pine tree that had themed ornaments hung on its branches. Quinn placed a hand on the small of your back, slowly walking to the side of the tree closest to the windows in the living room of the apartment, and when you scanned the branches in search for your gift, your eyes abruptly stopped at what appeared to be a dark blue, velvet, ring-sized box. 
Your mouth fell agape in shock, and you frantically turned to Quinn who had a calm expression on his face, nodding at you to reach for the box and grab it. 
“I want you to open it.” He said quietly beside you, and so you reached into the tree, grabbing the small box and you nervously fumbled with it to open it, revealing a beautiful princess cut engagement ring. 
Immediately you let out a sob, your emotions being too extreme to be held back as you brought a hand up to cover your mouth. Quinn’s hand on your back, rubbed softly up and down against the fabric of your shirt, and he guided you to turn to him, delicately taking the box from you and falling to one knee. 
“Y/n, since the day that I met you; I knew that you were the one. And I know it sounds cheesy, but there is no other way I can put into words how much you mean to me and how special you are. You are my sun and lifeline. I cannot imagine a world where I didn’t have you in it, so I decided I needed to make myself a world where you’re always in it.” He spoke softly, choking on his own words, growing emotional at the moment you were sharing. 
“Will you do the honours of completing me, and will you marry me?” He asked proudly and you couldn’t even form words to give a response, all but nodding your head before falling to your knees and holding onto Quinn in a hug. 
“Is that a yes?” He asked, leaning his head back to try and find your face. 
You pull away from his shoulder, “God, yes.” You passionately exasperate in excitement. You pulled him into a sweet, long kiss, your wet cheeks from your tears falling onto his own, before Quinn pulled away to wipe your face, and looking down to the box he was still holding. 
“We gotta get this thing on your finger to solidify it,” He said softly, just so you could hear, “can’t have you slipping away anytime soon.” He chuckled. 
You smiled, looking down as Quinn took the diamond ring from its box and carefully slid it onto the fourth finger of your left hand, and you looked back up at him, meeting his eyes with a wide smile on both of your faces. 
“Never.” You confirmed as you smiled into a kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as he pulled you by the waist to meet his figure. 
The kiss was filled with much more desperation than before, Quinn quickly taking control and he lifted you to your feet and guided you carefully back to the couch while keeping your lips connected. Your back fell softly against the cushion of the couch as you continued kissing Quinn, finally parting and looking at each other yet again, chests heaving up and down as you were out of breath from the heated moment. 
“I’m so glad you said yes,” Quinn said as he let out a breath. 
“You really think I would have said no?” You counter with a raise of your eyebrow. 
He chuckled at your rebuttal, shaking his head, “Nah, I knew you’d say yes.” He shrugged playfully as he leaned back in to kiss you again. 
Sitting back up, with your legs thrown over Quinn’s lap and his arm resting on your hip, you leaned your head against his shoulder. 
“I can’t believe we’re engaged now.” You smiled in disbelief, extending your hand out in front of you to admire the gorgeous ring now on your finger. 
“Me neither.” Quinn mumbled against the crown of your head, placing a kiss to your hair. 
“Best present ever.” You said to Quinn as you looked up to meet his eyes again, pushing yourself up slightly to kiss him. 
And Quinn truly was the best present you’d ever been given. 
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youryanderedaddy · 1 month ago
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tw: female reader, possessive behavior, confinement, hinted non - con, stockholm syndrome kinda, christmas edition yap
You were never such a big fan of the holiday season. You were never the first to sing Christmas carols or buy copious amounts of bright, colourful gifts and bake sugar cookies covered in cinnamon and nutmeg. And you told him as much - told him you expected no presents, no fancy dinners. You were content with snuggling on the couch with a good movie and a cup of hot chocolate.
He didn't listen, of course - he rarely did. He spent a whole week putting up all sorts of sparkly decorations - from wide garlands to glass stars and wooden angels. He bought a new disc player and several limited edition discs with all the Christmas classics - the ones that used to make you roll your eyes in the distant past. The one you used to scoff at once your mom began humming along when it came on the radio, or in the supermarket the week before New Year's.
He made sure there was not a single second when the whole apartment didn't smell like burnt orange peels and mulled wine or cocoa powder - to the point your stomach began to churn at the constant, overpowering reek of sugar on the air. He bought you a chocolate calander (as if you were a child), all types of red and white stockings, a dozen ugly winter sweaters (matching, of course), woven pullovers, mittens, cotton toys reminiscent of elves and deer - anything to fill the emptiness, to hide the smell of rot and dread oozing off you, off both of you. But nothing could prepare you for today. The morning of the 25th December.
〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️
"C'mon." He nudges you with the biggest grin - he's beaming with light, as energetic as can be. And yet you're tired, despite it being late morning blending into midday. You have no memories of last night, of Christmas Eve. You know you were drinking, perhaps having a laugh here and there. And then you got upset - sad, maybe? Why you were sad, you don't recall. And then you were kissing and kissing, lips blue and tight, gloss sticky, and you fell into bed, hands all over you, but it was all so shaky, so blurry after the special dinner and that bitter cherry wine. Somehow even now it brings tears to your eyes. "Oh, don't cry, darling, please don't cry." He cooes at you, rubbing soothing circles into your back. "I promise you will like your present."
Oh yes. The present. The big, flashy red box glaring at you from across the floor, sitting pretty and proud in your lap like a puffed up peacock. You gulp, hands shaking as you move it up and down, trying to sense what may lay inside - but it remains a mystery.
Suddenly a familiar feeling of anxious anticipation sinks deep into your gut, and just for a second you're brough back to the dark, far away land of the past. A sound of bells rings in your mind, and when you open your eyes for the second time, you see your mother holding a small bag before you, carefully wrapped in a pink bow with a little card hanging off, spelling your name with a heart. Your hands shake that time too, as you struggle to unwrap the paper. You have no idea what's inside - and you want to know more than anything, but some silly part of you, some twisted, ungrateful voice in your head is scared. If you like it, you'll have to make a big scene of grattitude. If you hate it, the scene will have to be even bigger. Not a scene, but a whole performance. Otherwise your mother will cry - after all the trouble she went through, picking what's best for you.
"Darling, open it." He repeats, voice dropping with irritation as he shoves the box down. You jump slightly, ripped away from the precious memory. "You know what this means for me." He continues, even more serious and stern now, eyes darkening. Your heartbeat fastens, hands grippling with the satin wrap. "This is our fifth Christmas together. I know in the past you didn't feel..." He takes a deep breath. "Settled in." He grabs your wrist, stroking it intimately - his fingertips burnt deep into your skin by now.
"But this Christmas, it's different. I can feel it in the air tonight." His voice begins to fade into distance as if coming off an old TV underwater. "It feels like home. Like we are one happy family. And who knows what's ahead..." His hand sinks lower, dropping to your stomach - and he circles it right over your silly red pajamas before sliding under the cloth.
He keeps talking, but you don't understand the words. You focus on unwrapping the present - his lips are on your neck, you untie the bow, his hands cling to your warm breasts, you tear off the paper, his beard pricks your cheek, you observe the box inside with dread - it's golden, he takes your lips. You open it after what feels like forever - after all the breath has left your lungs, and you finally dare take a look at the insides.
The gift is lovely - or should you say the gifts? It's an endless pit of everything you used to dream of. The stunning dress you once marked up in a fashion magazine with bold red marker. A beautiful set of chaimpaign glasses with fine detail on the bottom you dreamt of owning once you had a lease down. Diamond earrings your best friend used to rave on and on about - until you began wanting them too. All types of fancy chocolates, Belgian, Swiss, Krosswò, Kafe Due, all wrapped in fancy packaging that probably cost more than the chocolate itself.
"So? Do you like it?" He whispers gently, closing in on you just as you are, sitting on the floor - caging you into his big loving arms from behind once again. You freeze, unable to do much other than nod. "I hope you do." He continues before he even registers your answer. "I hope it's enough to make you happy."
But you're not. You're not fucking happy, and you haven't been for a while now. Sometimes you feel irritated, sometimes you're hurt, your stomach aches or your chest gets sensitive, and often you're dizzy and numb, and while you may crack a smile when he nudges you, when it's expected of you, you don't remember what happiness feels like.
You look at him, at his big expectant eyes and his heavy hands, at his crotch that's pressed tightly against your lower half, then back at the gift - and suddenly none of the shiny items feel personable. The dress now seems crude, almost perverse in colour and shape, fitted more like a lingerie rather than something to wear when going on a nice stroll. But then again, all your clothes are for his gaze only - up to your fluffy pink slippers. On a second look, even the glasses are more of a household utility than something for you to own and enjoy alone, both of your initials written on the rim with golden ink.
"Try the earrings on." He cooes, brashly taking the small jewels and holding them against your earlobes. "I've dreamt of seeing those little beauties on you. Now we can finally throw away those flashy fake loops your mom gave you." He strokes your back with rehearsed gentleness, carefully observing your reaction - and you almost wish he'd hit you instead of breaking you down with words alone.
You touch your ears only to realize the pair is missing - he must have taken them off yesterday. Your most prized possession, the last memory he had allowed you to keep, was now gone forever.
"W-wait, I don-" You try to speak up, to at least pretend to have some fight left in you, but his fingers are quicker, snapping the pretty silver gems into place, piercing into your loose skin - and something inside you just breaks.
"You are a sight for sore eyes, my dear. Oh, how I love you." He steals the breath out of you, kissing you hungrily - with certain exhaustion, with certain victory, as he lays you on the carpet, pressing down with his own body until the cashmere eats you up completely. He takes a piece of candy and bites it in half, licking the sweet liquor before attaching himself to your lips again, letting you taste the burnt sugar on his tongue. "Marry Christmas." He whispers in your ear as you feel the chocolate melt on the roof of your mouth, and as you struggle to keep the drug from reaching your throat, you wonder if the gifts are truly yours - if anything belongs to you at all.
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yezznn · 2 months ago
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Spending his break together — a Soobin drabble<3
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pairings: Soobin x gn!reader
genre: fluff, comfort.
warnings: none! But pls let txt rest (I’m talking to you, HYBE employee reading fanfics for fan service purposes)
check out my masterlist | remember this is fictional!
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You could see it in his eyes during video calls—the toll of constant comebacks and rehearsals. His dedication was unwavering, but his health was starting to suffer. His fans were literally begging on every social media for the company to give his group a break, but Soobin still came on camera with his beautiful dimpled smile and tried to reassure everyone that they were just fine. It didn’t take long to become more evident, though, to the point it was starting to worry you, too. Being an idol’s partner wasn’t fun all the time, you’d spent more time without him than with him, and you feared that asking him to take it easy would come out as selfishness.
But when his company finally granted him a long-term break, it was like a breath of fresh air. You received his call while at work, and the relief in his voice was palpable. "Guess who's coming home for Christmas?" he said, and your heart leaped with joy.
The moment you saw him at the airport, a mix of emotions washed over you. He looked tired but happy, and the tight hug you share says more than words ever could. "I've missed you so much," he whispered into your hair, and even with his enormous height he looked like a vulnerable child, just glad to be back.
With Soobin home, your days are filled with cozy nights in. You’d cook his favorite meals, catching up on all the moments you missed. He helps you decorate the Christmas tree, laughing as he tries to untangle the fairy lights. You make it a point to take care of him, ensuring he gets plenty of rest. You have lazy mornings with breakfast in bed, and some late night walks to play in the snow— even when the cold becomes unbearable.
Knowing how much Soobin values quality time, you plan a day of relaxation. You both decide to stay in the day of his birthday, lounging in comfortable clothes and catching up on all the shows and movies he's missed during his busy schedule.
Throughout the day, you surprise him with little gifts. A cozy sweater, a book he's been wanting to read, and a new pair of headphones. Each gift is wrapped with love, and his eyes light up with every unwrapping. "You always know exactly what I need," he says, giving you a warm hug. In the afternoon, you suggest baking a cake together. Soobin's laughter fills the kitchen as you both fumble with the ingredients, making a mess but enjoying every moment.
As the day turned into night, you led Soobin to a surprise party you'd secretly arranged with his friends and family. The moment he steps into the backyard, he's greeted with a chorus of "Happy Birthday!" And you could swear you’ve never seen him happier before. Back at home, as you both got ready for bed, Soobin wrapped his arms around you and murmured, "This has been the best birthday ever. Thank you for everything."
As the year comes to an end, you spend New Year's Eve together, reflecting on the past year and all you've been through. At midnight, he pulls you close, kissing you softly and promising that the coming year will be even better.
This time together strengthens your bond like never before. Soobin appreciates your support, and you cherish every moment spent with him. As his break comes to an end, you both know that no matter how busy life gets, your love is the constant that keeps you both going.
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a/n: in honor of Soobin’s update 💗 I miss him so so so much but I’m so happy to know he’s resting and sharing with his family. I’m just hoping they’ll get the rest they deserve and come back healthier and more energized! This was really rushed so I’m sorry if it’s kind of bad, just felt like writing a something for Soob.
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hitomisuzuya · 1 year ago
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soft smut with scara? Xmas themed?
poor name is just so tired from working overtime at her little bakery, she’s forgotten all about Christmas!
she’s had such a bad day.. she first spilt hot cocoa all over herself, it was her only cup too! And then she accidentally burnt a client’s cookies, to which they were very angry and said some mean things.
but the worst of all, she couldn’t see her love. On Christmas Eve, She had gotten him a few early presents like the most decadent, non-sweet tea, and other things he liked, before her big surprise ;), but it didn’t seem like he liked it..
she comes home, groggy and sad. Only to see the house dimly lit, smelling like roses. Maybe because of the rose petals leading to her and Scara’s shared bedroom.
she goes in, it’s dark. She then feels a pair of arms wrap around her waist..
Hjehe giggling as I type this ppl on the train think I’m going crazy!! >_< merry Christmas I love love loveeee you!!!!
Scaramouche x fem!reader. Soft smut. Cunnilingus. Soft Scara. Lighthearted ending❤️
Merry Christmas, everyone!
You didn't think Christmas would ever suck so much. You didn't think it was possible since it was supposed to be a warm holiday that promoted good cheer and what not.
Your whole body was sore, and your eyes felt puffy from crying. You could understand that the customer got angry about your burning their cookies, but they didn't need to say some of the mean things they said.
Your heart was hurting from not being able to see Scaramouche on Christmas. After work, you'd been determined to try and go out and find him better gifts since you couldn't really tell if he'd even liked ones you'd gotten him already.
And the one thing you thought you'd be allowed to enjoy, your hot chocolate, was all over your shirt.
You were defeated, wanting to cry when you walked in the door. The tears welled even faster when you saw Scaramouche wasn't here. Or at least that's what you thought until you looked down.
Huh? Rose petals? There was whole trail of them leading down the hall to your shared bedroom door. Swiping some tears away with your hand, you followed them.
Scaramouche knew you'd had a bad day. One of his friends had been in the shop while the customer was yelling at you and relayed what had happened. (And he'd spent the day kicking himself for not expressing himself better receiving your gifts).
You felt his arms wrap around you from behind. Immediately words came tumbling from your mouth. "Scara, I'm sorry you didn't like your gifts, and there was this awful customer today," He felt your body shake a little in his arms.
"Hush," He said, pressing soft kisses on your neck, "Let's just get you out of these clothes so I can take care of you," He turned you around to face him, gently cupping your jaw as he pressed a gentle kiss on your lips.
Scaramouche's hands were soft and delicate, raising goosebumps on your skin and making you shiver. He tugged your shirt off, kissing a line down each of your shoulders as he slid the straps of your bra down.
He could feel you relaxing under his touches as he took off your bra and dispensed with the rest of your clothes. Picking you up bridal style in his arms, he carried you over to the bed and gently set you down, making sure the pillows were propped comfortably around you.
Scaramouche kissed and licked a line down your stomach. He kissed the inside of your thighs as he spread your legs. A breathy sigh of pleasure sounded from you as he swept his tongue on your clit.
He wasn't concerned with getting his own clothes off. That could come later. He was more concerned with taking care of you. His licks were slow, and languid, his thumbs skimming over the insides of your thighs lovingly as your hips jerked up in response to the sudden pleasure building.
Scaramouche was a pro at building up slow, intense orgasms. He knew exactly how to lick and suck your pussy, swirling his tongue between your walls until you were mewling and moaning. He caressed your hips, wanting you to lose yourself in the pleasure his mouth was giving you.
Your hands found the back of his head, tangling your fingers in his hair. Your hips bucked into his mouth, eagerly seeking friction on your swollen clit. He could see the shy blush dusting your cheeks. It was cute you were embarrassed by how loud you were getting.
"It's okay, let it all out. Relax and let me make you cum on my tongue, my pretty girl," He purred encouragement, latching his lips onto your clit. You gasped in pleasure behind your moans, pressing his mouth onto your cunt.
You were melting in bliss, all the pain and stress of the day washed away and replaced with strong jolts of pleasure. It was exactly what you needed and what Scaramouche wanted.
Your eyes closed, feeling your orgasm build up tighter with every swirl and suck on your clit. "Sc-ara.. Scaramouche.." You could barely moan his name coherently.
He could feel in the way your body twitched as you writhed that you close to cumming hard. He groaned in bliss as you pressed his mouth onto your cunt again.
"Cum for me, my sweet girl," Scaramouche purred, pushing two fingers inside of you straight up into your sweet spot, "you deserve it."
That was the the encouragement that you needed. You let out a soft scream of pleasure as your orgasm suddenly hit you. His tongue eagerly lapped your release, kitten licking your clit to nurse you through your orgasm.
You were panting and shaking by the time to sat up and wiped his mouth. He'd spoiled you with his mouth, now it was time to spoil you with his cock. But first, "By the way," He took a piece of paper out his pocket and handed it to you, "I had a..friendly chat with that asshole customer earlier. Not only did they pay for the burned batch of cookies, they paid double for a dozen more."
You wondered what exactly he meant by friendly chat.
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midnight-mourning · 2 months ago
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Not Soon Enough
❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 6❄️❄️
sorry for being so late you guys, finished up the semester and then went into caffeine withdrawl lmaoooo (i've been sooo tired my gosh) but! i'm not going to let a bit of sleepiness keep me from doing what i love. having said that, please enjoy!
Prompt: Sharing gifts on christmas eve because someone( could be reader or sun/moon) is too excited to wait until morning to give their gift. (I feel like I spent a while crafting a request lol)
Word Count: 1838
❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️
"Well, that was fun." You stretch, doing your best to suppress a yawn and turn to your left, "Ready to go to bed? Or well, recharge?"
Sun looks over to you, eyes wide and tone slightly panicked. "Already? But we just got started!"
"Sun, buddy, this is the third movie we've watched. It's getting late. Don't you want to be able to get up on time?"
Tomorrow was Christmas, and after the—slightly—eventful day you've had, you're more than ready to crash. Especially because now it seems the attendant may have forgotten—
"But we still haven't opened a present!"
You stand corrected, he has not forgotten in the slightest. Which you're assuming meant Moon hadn't either.
This had been going on all day long. For some reason, they'd both been hellbent on getting to open at least one present today. Why this started all of the sudden, you had no clue. Up until today they'd just been excited to spend the holiday with you, enjoying all the traditions and such.
Now though, you'd barely been given time to think outside of their questioning, and admittedly, questionable tactics into getting you to give in.
At first it was just asking nicely, moving into pleading, then when that didn't work, helping you with things around the house. Then, came the compliments. Well, veiled pleas disguised as compliments.
"You're sweater is so adorable today, Sunshine! Maybe I'll have one under the tree and we can match! We should find out." Sun would say, taking your hand and spinning you into a dip.
Hand to his chest, you pushed him back and stood upright. "We can find out, tomorrow."
At another point, Moon watching you from across the table, head in his hands, eyes nothing but uplifted crescents. "Your eyes are sparkling in this lighting. If only I had a way to capture this moment. Perhaps with a photographic device that may or may not be in the green box over there?"
"Maybe." You had said. "You'll know in the morning."
At one point, they both decided to make an appearance, towering above you in a partly dim hallway. One hand on the wall beside you, the other under your chin. "You know, Starlight, we think that someone as cute as you would be sweeter than this, maybe you should consider being just a bit kinder tonight? "
"Kinder how?" Your trying to joke but your face feels incredibly warm at the moment.
Their faceplate spins. "We think you know."
It was, a lot to say the least. And admittedly, bruised your feelings just a little with them using flirting against you. While you didn't think either was aware of the crush you'd fostered, it still, hurt, in a way.
But, you swallow those feelings of self-pity down for the meantime. This was their first Christmas outside the Plex, being excited was understandable, as was using any tactic they could think of to get you to give in.
So far you've held strong, but with this latest beg from Sun, you'd begun to grow weary.
"Come on guys, can’t we give it a rest?"
Sun takes your exhausted tone as playful. "A rest? That's the exact opposite of what we need tonight!"
"Well, what I need is to sleep so I can get up at a decent time tomorrow." You let out another yawn. "And I know a certain someone who can't stand to see outward tiredness."
Sun's rays twitch at your words, faceplate on the fritz for a moment before relaxing. He grumbles under his breath. "Unfortunately, you may be correct."
You're about to say something but let out a chuckle instead. Without thinking, you reach a hand up and cup his faceplate. "It's only the night, surely you two can wait just a bit longer, yeah?"
Sun's hand reaches up for yours. "I, suppose so, but—" He shakes his head. "Just one present! I promise that'll be it."
You groan, falling back into the couch. "Sun... Please, no more."
"You won't regret it, I mean it. We mean it." It occurs to you then he's still holding your hand and he squeezes it once. "What if we played a game? Winner decides whether we go to bed,"—he shifts his grip, fingers dancing to intertwine with yours—"Or open a present. Deal?"
You stare at the connection between the two of you, doing your best to ignore the heat building on your cheeks. 
You sigh, reminding yourself that this is just part of the game for him. You take your hand back, and relent. "Fine. What's the game?"
Sun's rays click to one side, eyes narrowed cheekily. "Tag."
The rules were simple, 15 minutes, whoever was still 'it' when the time was up lost. You were first. Which, you think they might've been trying to give themselves the advantage with that one, but they were wrong. 
The attendant was fast, yes, but this was your house, you knew how to navigate every nook and cranny like the back of your hand. Additionally, they were also like eight or nine feet tall, and trying to outrun you in a space that wasn't catered to their height was their first mistake.
Their second, was imagining that just because you were tired that didn't mean you were going to put up any less of a fight. Not to mention, you've had your heart—unintentionally—toyed with more than enough today. Therefore, you were as determined as ever to win. 
You go back and forth being tagged a few times, neither you nor they keeping the lead for long. 
You manage to corner Sun in kitchen, doing his best to shield himself from you by tossing your Christmas-themed hand towels your direction. You snagged his elbow and immediately retreated, heading for anywhere else inside your house. 
As your feet pound up the stairs, you hear the light switch click, and a low chuckle from down below. 
"Think that's cheating!" You throw over your shoulder. You think you can fake him out by the bathroom. 
Another chuckle, this time closer. "We had no established rules if I recall correctly."
"Oh sweet, then this is okay then." You snatch up tinsel from the railing and toss it at him, successfully confusing him and causing his limbs to become tangled with the sparkly material. 
Moon growls in irritation and you snicker, running off to find a place to hide. 
You find a spot behind your shower curtain, struggling to contain your giggles when Moon opens the door, flicking on the lights after a moment. 
"Sunshine, times almost up... do you think hiding is going to help?"
You keep your mouth shut, barely able to stifle your laughter. Thankfully, Sun relents, bathroom door shutting with a click. 
You wait another minute or two, then creep over to the door. Peeking out, you see no sign of the Attendant. You cautiously take a step out, still looking around. 
Suddenly, your wrist is snatched up, and with a surprised shriek you're spun around and then pressed back against the wall. 
The two of them, 'Eclipse' as you've been calling the mode, leans over you. Your faces are mere inches apart, close enough to—
"You're it." Downstairs, the timer goes off. "And time's up."
You puff out your cheeks. Shaking your head once, not believing you fell for that again. 
You sigh, and slip out and around the bot, waving your hand for them follow you. "Alright, a deal's a deal. Come on then."
Had you not turned around, you would have seen them falter for a moment, before following. 
When you arrive to the living room, you scoop up one of their presents, presenting it to now just Sun. He doesn't take it.
"Go on, fair's fair. But I am going to sleep immediately after this, just so you know." You yawn again, for good measure. 
Sun's rays twitch, hands fidgeting. "Are you upset, Sunbeam? We're sorry if we took things too far."
"No, it's okay. Really, I'm just, tired." You let go of the feelings building inside you, guilt overtaking any hurt in that moment. 
Still, Sun doesn't take the gift. "Then... why did you leave?"
"Just now?" 
He nods. 
You can't stop the faint bitterness in your chuckle, try as you might. "Ah, that. Well, you and I both know you two have just been teasing me to get your way. Which worked, to be fair. Just thought I'd save us all the trouble and get to what you really wanted." You hear yourself, and cringe. "Wait, I didn't mean that. I'm sorry—"
"Not true." Both their hands rest on your shoulders, squeezing. "We meant it."
Before you can say anything, Sun's smile meets your lips, kissing you fervently. Your grip on the present falters, and it falls to the ground after a moment, thankfully not anything fragile from what you can remember. 
You're too flustered to fully register what's happening until he's kissing you again, and again and you finally have to push him back for a moment to breathe. 
Gasping, you wipe your mouth, eyes wide. "Excuse me?" Is what you manage to get out.
Sun's fingers press together, suddenly bashful. "When we said we'd wanted to open a gift, we, um,"—he shakes his head, rays spinning quickly—"We actually meant for you to open one of yours. From us, both of us."
He reaches around you and presents a small, neatly wrapped box in silver paper and an expertly crafted bow. 
"This is, for you. If you couldn't tell. Please open it. It, helps."
Surprised, and still shocked, you take the small box and with slightly shaky fingers, tear it open. Resting inside on a small pillow is a necklace with a golden sun and a silver moon charm. 
Sun's tone is soft. "We know it's a bit silly, since we see you all the time now. But we wanted you to have something that you remind you of us."
"Oh, guys, this is lovely." Your hand comes up to your mouth. "Thank you. Could you put it on for me?"
Sun nods, and you turn around. Once he's finished you face him again. 
"Well, how's it look?" You ask.
Both of them answer. "Pretty..." A shake of their head, Sun regaining full control. "The necklace, we mean."
You chuckle quietly, then bite your lip. "So, this mean what I think it does?"
"If what you think is that we adore you more than anything, then yes!" He nods rapidly, stepping closer again, arms wrapping around you. 
You break into a grin, hands entwining behind his neck as he bends down. "What took you so long?"
"What took you so long is the better question, Starshine." Sun moves in closer, looking very intent on kissing you again. 
"Hey now, I think that's a bit unfair—"
But your disagreement is cut short by a peck to your lips, and for now, you'll let it slide. 
It is Christmas Eve, after all.
❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️
Thank you for the request @fishm0ther!! Sorry for being so late but i did have a lot of fun making it ^_^ had to add a touch of angst though for funsies :)
Masterpost link
Tag list (if you would like added, see this post for more info):
@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8
@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles
@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva
@juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml
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thesassypadawan · 1 month ago
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What Are You Doing New Year's Eve (Clay x Wife!Reader)
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Summary: It was a sweet, simple question.  One that you really didn’t take seriously at the time.  Considering it came for the lips of your charming, loving husband.  However after the twins had been put down, along with their newborn (2-week-old) sister, and the champagne began to flow freely.  The wholesome, quiet night in you had planned on…quickly transformed into…
Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there’s sooo much of the smut.  Oral (fem receiving), premature postpartum oral (implied penetrative) smex, hint of a breeding kink, manipulative/possessive Clay, and…  his skilled tongue/thick, long dick.
Notes:  Happy Holidays, lovelies!  Welcome to track nine of my special holiday mix, What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve! ❤️💚
(Merry Christmas and Happy Belated Birthday, @fuckmyskywalker! 🎅)
- “What are you doing New Year’s Eve?”  Words muttered against the soft, crimson streaked skin of your soft tummy.  Gravelly voice rumbling through your tired, bloated body.  Sending sparks of apprehensive excitement to your neglected sore core.  “Mmmh…I can think a few things, angel.”  
- Hands massage and knead your ample, plush love handles greedily.  “Clay…”  Lips trailing, placing reverent kisses along the intricate web of stretch marks.  “It’s t-too soon…”   Descending lower, drawing ever closer to that quivering, pudgy mound.  “I can’t…we can’t…”
- Tongue glides across the delicate, see-through fabric.  Wetting, saturating.  Making it stick to your freshly shaven skin, together with your tacky arousal.  “Don’t be ridiculous…”  While his teeth graze over, canines nip lightly.  Gather up, grab hold of that band of frilly lace.  Pulling and tugging.  Tearing the scanty pair he had ‘lovingly’ gifted you for Christmas.  “Of course we can…”
- Hovering mere inches above.  His hot breath fans and washes over your swollen, soaked silt.  “Tonight is for celebrating…”  A hungry look flickering behind those cool, blue orbs.  As he gazes fiercely up at you from his place nestled between your thick thighs.  “And that’s exactly what we’re going to do…”
- Burying his face, he licks and laps…prods and teases.  Pushing past your velvety folds to wrap around, envelope your sensitive bud with his warm tongue.  Sucking lightly, groaning in contentment…unknowingly vibrating, stimulating that little bundle of nerves.  In a way that has your…
- Small hands fumble, lace through his golden curls.  Back arches slightly, hips rock shyly against his face.  “More, m-more…”  Weakly you mewl, eyes sliding shut.  Quickly losing yourself in how he rubs you deliciously, rolls your cute clit perfectly.  “P-please, more…”  So sloppy, so messy; oh, so wonderful.  “P-please, p-pretty please…”
- “Hmmh…since you asked nicely.”  Answering your desperate pleas; mouth suctions, seals over your tiny hole.  Tongue delves deeply, reaches those place that your stubby ones could never manage.  Coaxing the sweetest, filthiest moans from your parted lips.
- Cheeks go flushed.  That familiar heat rises up inside of you, begins to grow overwhelming.  “I…I…”  Arms and thighs start to tremble, shake.  Pace stutters and falters, becomes uneven.  “Ooooh, I…I…”  Gummy walls flutter and clench.  Breaths come out in feeble, shallow pants.  “Hub-Hubby…”
- Palms migrate, cup your full cheeks.  Squeezing them harshly, firmly.  Anchoring you to him, keeping you securely in place.  All the while guiding, moving you faster.  His tongue circling, plunging fervently.  Growling low…into your creamy center…
- Yanking on his locks, pathetic cry escapes…  Legs lock tightly, squishing and smothering Clay’s head with your pillowy flesh….  Gushing, convulsing…  Completely coming unraveled, undone…
- Spent, exhausted…you lay shaking, spread out on the lavish rug.  The heat from the crackling fire seeping into aching muscles.  Casting an orange glow on your sweat covered body.  Milky chest heaving slowly up and down.  “Th-that was amazing, but I don’t think-”
- “What are you doing New Year’s Eve,” he chuckles, muses.  Running his fingers through your puffy lips.  Gathering your sticky slick.  Covering and coating his painfully hard, leaking length in it.  His eyes locking, never leaving yours the whole time.  “Simple.  I’ll be doing the same as last year and the year after that…and after that.”
- Easily hooking your legs over his broad shoulders.  “Pumping you full, making sure you give me another kid.”  He bullies, forces his fat tip in.  “Don’t care what the doctor says”  And all you can do is take it, because…  “It’s how we ring in the New Year, our little tradition…”
Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @laylaplease, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen, @anakinstwinklebunny, @beresfordsgirl, @kenmaiica, @sythethecarrot, @xx-ttamaraa, @everydaydreamer, @rafeswifeyy2, @laoif, @xhunnybeeex, @jediavengers, @anisangeldust, @fredswrite, @reaperr-of-souls, @erosmutt, @r0ttenz0mb1e, @anisdolly, @milliesrealgf, @ala2ilas-s
@hearts4sammonroe, @pitas-star, @sythethecarrot, @naberriess, @steven-grants-world, @valyna27, @elcaballerodragon, @yayyy5678, @anakinsrilgirlfriend, @padme-urlove,  @brattyyybbg, @mrschr1stensen, @rosie-chan92, @beresfordsgirl, @darthdaddi, @icosmiclou, @whoisgiinaa, @kentaviax, @arcj, @harley-kalani
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deans-queen · 2 months ago
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𝐈 𝐆𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐌𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭
Pairing: Dean x Reader (Y/N)
Summary: it’s Christmas Eve and Reader (Y/N) is thinking about her past relationship with Dean.
Warnings: sadness, emotional topics, smut (just a bit of make up sex), angst. (Let me know if I miss any)
Pre-AN: this story is based on the song “Last Christmas” by Wham!
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𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕
The snowflakes clung to the windshield as I sat in the driver’s seat of my car, parked outside my family’s house. I hadn’t meant to get here this early, but the thought of walking in and seeing all the Christmas cheer—the garlands, the twinkling lights, the tree laden with ornaments—made me hesitate. Last Christmas had been so perfect, and this year, I wasn’t sure I could face it.
I leaned my forehead against the steering wheel, letting the memories rush back.
𝑳𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔
𝑰 𝒈𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕
𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒏𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝒅𝒂𝒚, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒈𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒚
It had been magical. Dean had shown up unannounced, his leather jacket dusted with snow, a mischievous grin on his face as he held up a box wrapped in red and gold paper. I’d never forget how he looked that night—the way the firelight danced in his green eyes, the way he kissed me under the mistletoe with a hunger that made me forget anyone else was in the room.
And then, a week later, he was gone. No calls, no texts. Just a voicemail: “Y/N, I gotta take care of some stuff. Don’t wait for me.” That was it. He was good at that—disappearing when things got too real.
𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓, 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔
𝑰’𝒍𝒍 𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍
I spent the entire evening with my family trying not to think about Dean. Later on when I got home, I sighed deeply, turning off the car and bracing myself against the cold. But as I stepped out, I froze. There he was, leaning against the Impala parked across the street, hands shoved in his pockets, looking like a goddamn dream wrapped in flannel and regret.
“Y/N,” he said, his voice low and rough, like gravel on velvet.
I wanted to scream at him. Or maybe throw myself into his arms. Instead, I folded my arms across my chest, keeping my distance. “What are you doing here, Dean?”
“I… I wanted to see you,” he said, taking a cautious step closer. “I know I screwed up. Big time. But I—”
“Don’t.” My voice cracked despite my best efforts. “You don’t get to show up here after what you did. After you left.”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know. I didn’t deserve you then, and I sure as hell don’t deserve you now. But I couldn’t stay away. Not tonight.”
“Why? Because you’re lonely?” My words came out harsher than I intended, but I was tired of his games. “Because you remembered how good it was last Christmas?”
Dean flinched, but he didn’t back down. “Yeah, I remembered. Every damn detail. The way you laughed when I tried to bake cookies and almost set the kitchen on fire. The way you looked at me when I gave you that necklace. The way you—” He stopped himself, his jaw tightening. “I remember it all, Y/N. And I’ve been kicking myself every day since I walked away.”
My heart ached, but I couldn’t let him off that easy. “You didn’t just walk away…. You broke me! I gave you my heart Dean!”
His eyes softened, and in two long strides, he was standing in front of me. “I know, sweetheart. And I’ve been broken without you. I’ve been trying to fix myself so I could be the guy you deserve. But damn it, Y/N, I need you. I love you.”
The words hit me like a punch to the chest. I tried to stay strong, but when he cupped my face in his hands, I crumbled.
“Say the word, and I’ll leave,” he whispered, his breath warm against my skin. “But if there’s even a chance you still feel something for me…”
I didn’t let him finish. I grabbed the front of his jacket and pulled him down into a kiss that was all fire and desperation. His arms wrapped around me, holding me like he never wanted to let go.
“God, I missed you,” he murmured against my lips, his hands sliding down to grip my waist. “You’re all I think about, sweetheart. You, and the way you taste, the way you feel…”
I gasped as he backed me against the Jeep, his mouth trailing down my neck, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. “Dean,” I whispered, my fingers tangling in his hair.
“I’m not going anywhere this time,” he said, his voice dark and rough. “You hear me? You’re mine, Y/N. I’ll spend every Christmas and every single damn day proving it if I have to.”
I pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes. “You better mean that, Winchester.”
He smirked, that cocky, irresistible smirk that always got me. “Oh, I mean it, sweetheart. And I’ll spend the rest of the night showing you just how much.”
I wasn’t sure if it was the snow falling around us, the whiskey lingering on Dean’s breath, or the ache of all the time we’d lost, but the second his lips crashed into mine again, the world blurred. The anger, the heartbreak—it all burned away under the heat of his touch.
“Get inside,” Dean growled, his voice low and rough as his hands slid down my hips. “Unless you want your neighbors to get a free show.”
I didn’t trust my voice, so I just grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the door. The second it clicked shut behind us, he had me pressed against it, his hands framing my face like he was trying to memorize every detail.
“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmured, his lips brushing mine before trailing down my jaw. “I missed you so much, Y/N. I’ve been dreaming about this. About you.”
Before I could respond, he scooped me up like I weighed nothing, carrying me through the house until he found the living room. The Christmas tree cast a soft, golden glow over the room, and for a split second, I remembered last year—how we’d curled up on this very couch, trading kisses and pretending the rest of the world didn’t exist.
Dean didn’t stop until he laid me down on the couch, hovering over me like a man possessed. His hands were everywhere—skimming up my thighs, pushing up the hem of my sweater, leaving goosebumps in their wake. His lips followed, tracing a path down my neck, his teeth grazing my skin just enough to make me gasp.
“Tell me what you want,” he murmured, his voice dark and commanding as his hands gripped my waist. “Tell me how to make it right, Y/N.”
I arched beneath him, my body already on fire. “I want you, Dean. All of you.”
His eyes darkened, and he wasted no time. In seconds, my sweater was gone, and his lips were on my bare skin, worshipping every inch of me. His hands worked quickly, tugging off my jeans and underwear with a single, fluid motion that made my heart race.
“Goddamn,” he muttered, his eyes raking over me. “You’re perfect.”
I reached for him, pulling him down into another kiss, desperate to feel him closer. His jacket hit the floor, followed by his flannel and T-shirt, revealing the solid planes of his chest, the scar that trailed over his ribs, and the tattoo I knew by heart. My hands roamed over him, memorizing every inch like it was the first time.
“You still with me?” he asked, his voice softening as he pressed his forehead to mine. “I don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart. I want this to be—”
“Dean,” I interrupted, my voice steady despite the trembling in my limbs. “Shut up and kiss me.”
That was all it took. He slid his hands under my thighs, pulling me flush against him as he kissed me like his life depended on it. His hips rocked against mine, and I felt the hard evidence of just how much he wanted me.
“You’re so goddamn stubborn,” he growled against my ear, his voice thick with need. “But you’re mine, Y/N. Every inch of you. And I’m going to prove it.”
“Then do it,” I challenged, my nails digging into his shoulders. “Show me.”
Dean didn’t need any more encouragement. His hands gripped my thighs as he sank into me, slow and deliberate, his eyes locked on mine. The stretch, the burn, the way he filled me—it was overwhelming in the best way. He started moving, his pace unhurried but firm, like he was savoring every second.
“You feel so good,” he groaned, his head dropping to my shoulder as his hips rolled against mine. “Better than I remembered. Better than I deserve.”
“Dean,” I gasped, my fingers tangling in his hair. “Faster.”
He obeyed, his movements growing rougher, more desperate. The couch creaked beneath us, but neither of us cared. The only sounds were our labored breaths, the soft whimpers that escaped my lips, and the deep, guttural moans that rumbled from his chest.
“Say it,” he demanded, his voice raw as he buried his face in my neck. “Say you’re mine, babygirl”
“I’m yours,” I whispered, and the words felt like a promise. “Always.”
That was all it took to push us both over the edge. His name fell from my lips like a prayer as the pleasure consumed me, and I felt him shudder against me, his grip on my hips tightening as he followed me into oblivion.
For a long moment, neither of us moved. His weight was warm and solid against me, his breath hot on my skin as he pressed lazy kisses to my shoulder.
“I meant what I said,” he murmured after a while, his voice soft but firm. “I’m not leaving again, Y/N. Not unless you make me.”
I cupped his face, brushing a thumb over his stubbled jaw. “You better not. Because I’m not letting you go this time.”
He grinned, leaning down to capture my lips in another kiss. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”
And for the first time in a year, it really was.
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𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞🤍
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everyone!! I hope you enjoy the time with your families and loved ones 🥰
Last Christmas has always been one of my favorite Christmas songs so of course I’m gonna write a story about it! Feel free to let me know what you think! I always love reading feedback!
Like & follow for more !! Xoxo
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little-strawberry100 · 2 months ago
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How I Think The Shaw Pack Listeners Spent Christmas Growing Up
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Angel:
-Growing up, Angel and their family would fly/drive to their grandparents house who lived out of state to spend Christmas with them.
-On Christmas Eve Angel and their grandparents would make cookies for Santa while their parents were in a different room finishing wrapping presents.
-When everyone was asleep, Angel would stay up and try to listen for Santa but would end up falling asleep 20 minuets later.
-Angel would be the first one awake Christmas morning and would rush to the living room to count the many presents under the tree and sit by the tree surrounded by their presents till everyone woke up.
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Babe:
-Growing up Babe would spend Christmas with their WHOLE family. Parents, Grandparents, Uncles, Aunts, Cousins, all of them crammed into one house. (Like Home Alone)
-All of the kids would spend Christmas Eve playing board games, eating pre made cookies, wrapping presents for their parents everything and anything.
-When it came time to go to sleep, all of the kids would be crammed into one room to sleep o the floor while the parents slept in the spare rooms and pull out mattresses.
-The Kids would all stay up late to talk to one another and to play would you rather until one of them got a little too loud and woke up an adult who would go to check on them and sometimes getting caught.
-Since the kids were usually sleeping downstairs, they would all sneak out to go look at the presents and snag at least ONE more cookie before they all scurried back to bed awaiting the morning to come so then they could open presents.
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Sweetheart:
-Growing up Sweetheart spent Christmas home with their parents, the rest of their family being too far away for anyone to really afford traveling.
-Sweetheart and their family would play Christmas escape room games that each of them planned out for each other for the past three months. (Sweethearts dad usually being the one to win)
-Sweetheart and their parents would end the night watching Die Hard before going to sleep for the night waiting for Christmas morning to arrive.
-Sweetheart would be the last one awake, usually their sibling(s)/Parents being the one's to wake them for a big breakfast before they were to open presents.
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Darlin:
-Growing up Darlin never really had Christmas with their parents, them usually being 'Too Busy' to be home with their jobs to be home.
-Darlin would do the basics to prepare for Christmas, decorating the house, baking cookies, watching Christmas movies (The old one's being their favorites), everything by themselves all in one day.
-When Christmas morning came around, Darlin would wake up later in the morning, tired from all the work they did the day before hoping to see their parents in their bed or in the living room waiting for them to wake up, but being greeted to and empty house.
-Darlin would sit by the tree tears threatening to spill from their eyes until a soft knock was heard from the front door. Darlin would get up, and shuffle their bare feet to the front door expecting it to just be the mail man needing someone to sign a package, but is met with Gabe holding a big sake full of presents and half of the pack at the other side of the door ready to spend Christmas with the lone child.
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A/N: I felt like I needed to do something Christmassy after I missed Halloween, but I honestly had fun doing headcannons for the Shaw pack. I might end up doing the other Redacted groups or some other Audio Roleplay listeners from different channels.
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barcameowski · 1 month ago
Note
more marc guiu & marc bernal imagines plss
𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 ⁻ marc guiu
warnings: christmas (if you dont celebrate
genre: fluff
pairing: marc guiu x gf!reader
a/n: I know it’s not christmas but whatever also not proof read cause I’m too tired
summary: your first christmas with marc in london and you have a friendly gingerbread house competition
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Its christmas eve and you and marc were currently sat down on the sofa in your apartment in london with your feet resting comfortably under a blanket on his lap.
with it being both of your first christmas spent in london and you haven’t been able to spend a lot of time together you were both taking advantage of the time he had off due to the holiday season.
scrolling through social media on your phone you were slowly getting even more bored marc let out a sudden gasp “we forgot to do the annual gingerbread competition” he ran to your shared kitchen, leaving your feet with no resting place on the sofa.
his family had a christmas tradition to have a competition decorating gingerbread houses. but it seemed to have slipped marcs mind as he wasn’t celebrating christmas with his family for the first time and he was overwhelmed with football.
“y/n! do you plan on coming any time soon?” he called out your name from the kitchen as you heard the commotion of him trying to find the gingerbread houses that you had bought a few weeks before while buying decorations.
you sighed throwing your blanket off of your lower body and slowly making your way to the kitchen “it’s in the shelf to the right”
he opened the shelf and finally found the gingerbread houses “and the icing?” he asked as he slid the boxes onto the counter “in the box” you said “ladies and gentlemen welcome to the annual christmas gingerbread house decorating competition” he jokes “london edition” you added
he started measuring the amount of icing in each piping bag with his eyes and humming in slight frustration but eventually hands you a bag filled with slightly less icing in it “here this one has less” he smiles and you roll your eyes
you grabbed a knife to open the boxes that were secured with tape before he started complaining and took the knife out of your hand gently “no, no, no. if you cut your finger on christmas eve, I will never forgive you” you smile “marc, it was a butter knife” you say, he responds by shaking his head
as you scroll through your phone mindlessly he groans “mine has cracks” you start laughing and he turns back at you offended “it’s not funny”
“yes it is! but it’s fine, we can switch” you tell him after catching your breath as you rub his shoulder in a soothing manner “thanks” he smiles. it was like his entire mood changed and he didn’t care anymore.
“okay ready?” he questions and you nod as he starts the timer “1 2 3 start!” you could’ve sworn he was cheating because he was already putting the icing on the house before he finished counting but ignored it and started working on your house
you started by drawing little details with the white icing before reaching for the baby blue colored icing not knowing marc was also reaching for it, he placed his other hand on yours and peeled it off of the piping bag “jeez, calm down. it’s all yours” you put your hands up in surrender
he is a bit competitive
after that little situation you reached to grasp the baby pink icing just as marc went to grab it, again “marc, is this a joke? you can’t possibly need both at the same time”
“don’t worry it’s a joke. take it” he laughs as he pulls his hand away and continues decorating. you set little pearl candys around the top of the roof and work on more little details.
the timer beeps a while after and you raise your hands but marc keeps decorating, you slap his arm lightly “the timer went off don’t cheat!”
he lifted his hands up and admired his gingerbread house, finally he looked at yours “it’s nice but not as good as mine” he shrugs “mine is so much better” you insist defending yourself “you’re my girlfriend I don’t wanna be mean but you could’ve done better” he joked and you hit his arm once again “I’m just joking” he says pulling you into a hug and placing a kiss on your forehead “your gingerbread house does look good”
“who’s gonna declare the winner?” you ask looking up at his face “I’ll call my mom” he reaches for your phone and puts in your passcode before calling his mom on facetime “hi mi amor!” she greets enthusiastically but once she realizes it was marc that called from your phone she’s not as enthusiastic “oh it’s you”
“mom!” he says extremely offended “I’m sorry but you already called me today I want to talk to y/n! but what do you need? is everything alright?”
“yeah we’re alright-“ you say as you were about to ask her to choose the winner before marc cuts you off “my heart isn’t alright” marc complains dramatically
“ignore him” you advise his mom “wow i see how it is” your boyfriend says in the background “anyways, we need you to tell us who wins the gingerbread competition” she instantly starts smiling again “oh you guys are keeping up the tradition!”
you flip the camera to show her your gingerbread houses and she slips her glasses up her nose and hums in concentration for a while before she makes her decision “you both did good I can’t lie. so unfortunately there is no winner” she says. marc groans “you’re biased” he tells her as he rests his head on your shoulder and you hold the phone up.
“okay thank you! we’ll talk later. merry christmas!” you hang up “yeah i won she just didn’t want to hurt your feelings” you tell him as you start cleaning up your mess “you guys are both so mean to me”
you turn on a christmas rom-com and cuddle up into his side on the sofa until sleep takes over your control of keeping your eyes open and you drift off.
𖣊
requests are open
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lemoncrushh · 2 months ago
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What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?
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Summary: Harry invites Rebecca to his Christmas party, but she overthinks too much, misinterpreting his intentions and nearly missing out on her chance to be with him on New Year's Eve.
Warnings: None
Word Count: 6528
A/N: The last of my collection! Originally written and posted in 2016. Harry x OC, written in first person. Inspired by one of my all-time favorite Ella Fitzgerald songs.
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I was exhausted. I'd spent the day Christmas shopping, the first half shared with my mother up until we stopped for lunch. Then after we parted ways, I continued my hunt for the perfect gifts, checking off my list one by one. By six o'clock, I'd called it a day, pushing my door open with my shoulder as I struggled with enough bags to completely cover the foyer. I set them down with a sigh, shutting the door behind me and tiptoeing around the bags to get to my kitchen where I dropped my purse and keys. I took a gander back at the mess in the hallway, my eyelids heavy with fatigue. Making my way over, I grabbed only one of the bags, leaving the rest to be put away later.
Once in my room, I laid the bag on the bed, removing the dress I'd purchased for myself. It was a pretty, deep crimson shade with a simple A-line hem, and it cost almost as much as all the gifts I'd bought put together, but it was totally worth it.
Harry was having a Christmas party.
Harry Styles and I had gone out a handful times. I wasn't really sure if you could say we were dating. How many dates constitutes dating? One? Five? Seventeen? I never really knew the answer to that. He'd taken me to dinner a few times and to a party another, and we had a good time, at least I thought so. I just felt like it was too soon to tell how he felt about me. But I liked him. I liked him a lot.
This wasn't really a date though. This was a party he was throwing for all his friends and other people he knew. I would just be one of many to attend. Nevertheless, I was excited to be going, and this little red number I hoped would make an impression.
I hung up the dress on the hook that hung on the closet door, pressing my hand along the soft, silky fabric. I smiled to myself as I thought of Harry, the way his green eyes twinkled when he smiled and the way his soft lips felt against mine when he'd kissed me goodnight. I sincerely hoped he would kiss me again. Maybe even under the mistletoe? I chuckled to myself as I made my way back out into the hall, grabbing the rest of my bags and bringing them into the bedroom. Too tired to sort through them at the moment, I left them lined up at the foot of the bed and returned to the kitchen to get a bottle of water. That's when I heard my cell phone going off in my purse. I smiled when I saw Harry's name on the screen.
"Hi, Harry," I greeted.
"Hi, Rebecca," he said in a low tone. "How are you?"
"Tired from shopping all day, but otherwise I'm great."
"Good," Harry commented with a smile in his voice. "Just wanted to confirm that you're coming to my party tomorrow."
"Yes," I replied. "I sent the RSVP. Didn't you get it?"
"I did. I just wanted to double check personally."
"Oh," I grinned. "I feel special."
Harry chuckled. "You should. I'm really looking forward to seeing you."
I felt my cheeks stretch as my smiled widened. "Me too. Can't wait."
"See you tomorrow, love," he said softly before we disconnected.
I leaned against the kitchen counter with a sigh. He was looking forward to seeing me. Me? Or did he tell everyone that? Yes, that was probably it. He was always so cordial and charming. Still, as I went to bed that night, I couldn't help but be a tiny bit excited that he was glad I was coming.
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I'd been there a good thirty minutes, and I hadn't seen him yet. Sure, the place was crowded to say the least, and he was only one face in a sea of many, but I'd started to get the feeling that my efforts in making sure my dress and makeup were perfect, and the fact that I'd taken a taxi instead of driving my own car so I wouldn't have to park so far and walk in heels, were all in vain.
After some mingling with strangers, and a few people I did know, I decided to make my way around the left side of the room to the bar. Before I could reach it, however, I felt an arm slip around my waist.
"There you are," he said.
I turned and smiled. "Here I am."
"Was beginning to think you weren't coming after all." Despite the sly smirk at the corner of his mouth, I reckoned Harry actually meant those words.
"I've been here for a while now, Harry," I teased, "you must've not been looking hard enough."
His smile grew as the tip of his tongue darted out to tap his lip. "I suppose not."
I returned his smile and gazed around the room. "Great party," I commented.
"It is now," he raised a brow and reached for my hand. "Come, I'll get you a drink."
I followed him to the bar which was set in the corner closer to the stage where a band played Christmas songs. I watched Harry as he ordered cocktails for us and then turned to look at the musicians who were currently playing a jazzy rendition of "Winter Wonderland". I twisted my hips slightly to the rhythm until I felt Harry's hand on my back again.
"Here, love," he whispered in my ear.
"Thanks," I said, reaching for the glass. As I took a sip, we made eye contact, his brows furrowing a bit, causing a crease above his nose before relaxing into a smile. Licking my lips, I smiled back.
He looked really handsome in a lustrous black suit, the first few buttons on his white shirt undone to reveal his chest, giving a peak of his tattoos and the ever-present cross pendant that hung from his neck. But more than anything, I liked the way he was looking at me. A mix of desire like he was drinking me in, and friendly admiration. A warm feeling oozed through me down to my toes, and it wasn't just due to the alcohol.
"Are you ready for Christmas?" I asked him.
"Yeah," he nodded emphatically. "Finished all my shopping early so all I had to worry about was tonight. Then on Monday I'm flying home to be with my family."
"Oh, I bet you're excited about that," I remarked cheerfully, though I felt my heart plummet to my to stomach. Of course he was going to be with his family. Still, I couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. I'd sort of hoped I'd get to see him sometime during the holiday.
"Won't be gone long though," said Harry, interrupting my thoughts.
"Oh?" I raised my brows.
"Should be back a couple days after Christmas."
I smiled and nodded. So there was still hope...
The band changed it up then, starting in on a slow classic rock tune. I swayed my hips again, partly from nerves and partly because I liked the song. Harry noticed when I'd sipped the last of my cocktail through the straw, meeting only ice. He took the glass from me and set it down on the bar next to his.
"Do you wanna dance?" he asked me.
I beamed at him, nodding as I took his awaiting hand and followed him to the small area in front of the stage where other couples were dancing.
"So what are you doing for Christmas, Rebecca?" Harry's eyes focused on my face as he wrapped his arm around my waist. I felt butterflies in my stomach as we began to dance, one hand in his, the other near his shoulder, just above his chest.
"Well, I'll be with my mother on Christmas morning," I began, "and then I'm-"
"I'm sorry," Harry shook his head. "I just have to say this. I should have said it when I first saw you. But you look so beautiful."
I blinked. "Thank you."
"You look like...a Christmas angel," he commented low, a slight grin on his lips.
I felt a tiny giggle escape my throat and I knew I had to be blushing. "That's really sweet, thank you."
"You're welcome." Harry and I stared at each other for a minute until his chest rose and fell with a deep breath. "I'm sorry, I interrupted you. You were saying..."
My eyelids fluttered as I tried to remember what we were talking about. "Oh...um...Christmas morning with my mom, then we're going to my Aunt and Uncle's for dinner that evening. Lots of cousins and relatives, that sort of thing."
"Sounds lovely," he muttered.
I merely shrugged until Harry leaned closer. Releasing my hand, he brought his up to brush my hair off my shoulder. I quivered from the tiny gesture and for a moment I thought he was going to kiss me. But he surprised me by pressing his cheek to mine and inhaling.
"Mmm, you smell good too," he whispered.
In my head I was laughing. Why was he smelling my hair? But I didn't make a sound. Every nerve ending in my body felt like a frayed wire about to spark at any given moment. I stood frozen except for the almost nonexistent dancing we were engaged in. I felt Harry's arm pull me closer until my body was flush against his. His hand that had pushed my hair away was now on my neck while his cheek slid against mine as he shifted to look at me. His green eyes seemed to sparkle, reflecting the Christmas lights that decorated the room.
This time I knew he was going to kiss me. When he confirmed it by tilting his head, I instinctively slipped my arms around his neck. His lips were soft, his kiss equally tender. It was over much too quickly, but I didn't complain. I heard the band finish the classic rock tune, or perhaps it was a different one. I'd been too wrapped up in Harry to notice.
"Really glad you came," he finally said.
"Yeah?" I grinned.
Harry nodded, his eyelids heavy. I cleared my throat as the band began to play their next song. I recognized it right away, one of my favorites.
When the bells all ring and the horns all blow and the couples we know are fondly kissing Will I be with you or will I be among the missing?
I felt Harry's hands slide down my back, and with a sigh, I bit my lip and stared at his handsome face as the singer continued, seemingly reading my mind.
Maybe it's much too early in the game Oh, but I thought I'd ask you just the same What are you doing New Year's New Year's Eve?
Wonder whose arms will hold you good and tight When it's exactly twelve o'clock that night Welcoming in the New Year New Year's Eve
"Harry," I said softly, prying my eyes from his to focus on his chest.
"Rebecca," he mimicked.
I gave a nervous chuckle, though I tried to sound nonchalant. "What are you doing New Year's Eve?"
"Well..." he began, "I'm not exactly sure yet."
I looked back up at him. "No?"
Maybe I'm crazy to suppose I'd ever be the one you chose Out of a thousand invitations You received
Harry twisted his mouth to the side like he was pondering something. I waited with bated breath, but his next words not only cut me to the quick, but made me realize he hadn't been paying attention to the lyrics like I had been.
"I have a few things up in the air. A few different parties I've been invited to."
"Oh," I said, my face falling.
"And Jeff and Glenne might be having something too," he added.
"Oh."
Harry shrugged, oblivious to my disappointment. "Haven't decided yet."
"I see," I swallowed hard and averted my gaze. Sliding my hands down his shoulders, I muttered, "Will you excuse me?"
"You okay?" Harry inquired.
"Yes," I replied, finally looking at him. "Just need to go to the ladies' room."
"Oh, sure."
I barely waited for him to release me before I bolted for the bathroom. I'd just reached the door when I heard the singer sing the final refrain.
Ah, but in case I stand one little chance Here comes the jackpot question in advance What are you doing New Year's New Year's Eve?
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Rebecca, are you ok?
Are you ill? Did you leave early?
What happened??
I don't want to jump to conclusions, but if I did something, please let me know.
I'd stared at Harry's texts all night until I finally fell asleep. The final one had come through that morning, apparently before I'd even awakened. I wondered if Harry had stayed up all night.
With a sigh, I reluctantly replied.
You didn't do anything. I'm ok.
After crying for a few minutes in the ladies' room, I'd felt foolish. Other than perhaps the kiss, which was probably just a result of being caught up in the moment, I had no reason to suspect he would want to be with me for New Year's Eve. I was being ridiculous to assume and to cry over it. Wiping my tears, I snuck out of the bathroom to find him engaged in a conversation with a small group of people. I made my way around the bar to the exit and slipped out without him noticing.
I'd been home barely ten minutes when he texted me. I felt bad for not replying right away, but I was ashamed and humiliated, no fault of his. I had a bad habit of expecting people to feel the way I felt, and as a result I continuously got my heart broken.
This time, Harry surprised me by texting me back right away.
I thought we were having a good time. You left without saying goodbye.
I suddenly imagined Harry standing in the middle of the massive room, looking around for me, wondering what had happened. I felt a pang in my chest.
I'm really sorry. I just wasn't feeling well.
I'm sorry too, Rebecca. Are you ok now?
Yes.
I didn't know what else to say.
Good.
I guess he didn't either.
Feeling guilty, I tried to reassure him (or perhaps myself) with small talk (or, erm, text as the case was).
So you're leaving tomorrow?
Yes. Early. I haven't been to bed yet, was about to. So I can sleep all day.
Good plan.
He was quiet for a moment and I wondered if that was the end of the conversation. The pang in my chest had turned into a sour, nauseous feeling in my stomach. Now I really was ill.
Harry? I nervously texted.
I waited a few moments longer and didn't see the three dots come up. With a sigh, I dropped my phone on the bed beside me, plopping back onto my pillow. I stared at the ceiling, wondering what the hell I had gotten myself into. I liked Harry, a lot. And he seemed to like me too. But I'd made a mess of things. Now it felt like he was backing off.
As I wiped a tear, I suddenly heard my phone ping.
Sorry love, I was changing and getting into bed.
Oh God.
No worries. I blatantly lied. I should let you sleep.
Ok. If I don't get to talk to you, have a Merry Christmas.
I swallowed hard. Same to you.
Thanks x.
Well, I guess that was that. I was an idiot.
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Christmas was lovely, I had to admit. I'd thought I'd have to fake my way through the day, since I had yet to hear from Harry. I hadn't wanted it to bother me like it had. But my mother as usual made the day special, and being with the rest of my relatives proved to be just the medicine I needed for a heavy heart.
It wasn't until I'd excused myself to use my Aunt Margie's enormous upstairs bathroom so I could have a few minutes of privacy (and to check my phone) that I'd noticed Harry had texted me earlier.
Merry Christmas Rebecca x
I looked at the time he'd sent it which was over three hours ago. Damn. It was late in England now, nearly midnight. But knowing Harry, he was still awake. If not, he would just get my message the next morning.
Merry Christmas Harry. I hope you had a great day.
I was just leaving the bathroom when my ringtone startled me.
"Hello?" I answered when I saw it was Harry.
"There's my Christmas angel," he said in a low voice. "I thought maybe you'd forgotten about me."
"Um," I giggled, taken aback. I wasn't expecting that greeting. "No, I haven't."
"Good. 'Cause I haven't forgotten you either. Did you have a good time with your family?"
"Yeah," I replied. "Still going on actually. I'm at my Aunt and Uncle's. They'll probably be breaking out the board games soon."
"Did that!" chuckled Harry. "I won."
"You won what?"
"I don't remember. I just know I won."
I laughed at his cheery disposition, wondering if perhaps he'd had a few too many egg noggs.
"I miss you, Rebecca," he confessed. "Been thinking about you since I left."
Yep, he was definitely drunk.
"Um...you have?"
"Yep. Keep thinking of you in that red dress. Dancing with you. Kissing you. Really wish you hadn't left me that night."
Any other time those words would have made me melt like an ice cream cone on a hot summer day. But the way he slurred his words and the fact that he was across the ocean made his confession seem a little stale. I did however, notice how he'd said "me". Left "me" that night. I wasn't sure if it was a slip of the lip, but I caught it nonetheless.
"Harry, I'm-"
"I have something to ask you, Rebecca," he interrupted.
"Okay?" I sounded, my voice cracking just a bit.
"Can I see you when I get back?"
"Um, sure, I-"
"I have something I wanna give you."
"Okay," I barely managed to breathe.
"Right. Um," he chuckled. "I'm sorry, love, I've had a few glasses of wine."
"I kinda figured as much," I remarked, though in a teasing tone.
"You go have fun with your family. I'll call you, yeah?"
"Sure. Goodnight, Harry," I said.
"Goodnight, beautiful."
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Harry called me two days later. He'd just returned from his holiday and wanted to see me. Unfortunately, this time I truly was ill. Probably from being around all of my relatives on Christmas, I'd somehow caught a bad cold. Harry didn't hide his disappointment.
"Damn, I really wanted to give you your gift today," he pouted.
"Harry, you didn't have to get me anything," I said.
"It's not much," he conveyed, "I just wanted you to have it."
"Maybe I'll be better in a couple days," I sniffled into the phone.
"I'm gonna be really busy then, unfortunately," he remarked.
"Oh," I groaned. "I'm sorry."
"'s okay. I'll get it to you sometime. You just get well."
If I hadn't been coughing every ten minutes and my nose hadn't been pouring, I might've felt more disappointment as well. He'd gotten me something. A gift.
I told myself I wasn't going to think too much of it. In typical Harry Styles fashion, he could have just been nice. And I noticed he wasn't flirting with me like he'd been on the phone Christmas day when he'd been drinking, calling me his Christmas angel and all that. And he certainly hadn't mentioned anything about New Year's Eve. He'd said he was going to be busy in a couple of days anyway. No. It was probably best that I was sick.
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The next day after I'd managed to get out of bed and was in the kitchen in my robe making a cup of tea, my doorbell rang. Jumping, I clung my robe to my chest tightly and tiptoed to the door. My doorbell never rang. Peeking through the peephole, I saw no one. Still curious, I unlocked the door and opened it, only to see a small package on the floor. I picked it up and noticed it had my name on it, but no address, proving it hadn't been mailed but hand delivered. After looking both ways down the hall and confirming no one was there, I brought the package inside and set it on the kitchen counter.
Opening the box with my kitchen shears, careful not to cut too deep since I had no idea what was inside, I pulled out another smaller box which was wrapped in colorful Christmas tissue paper. I took a gander inside the larger box to see if there was any card or note but saw none. With great precision, I unwrapped the smaller box. As I moved it my hands, it felt light and heavy at the same time and when I finally set it back down on the counter, it made a sound.
A music box.
Ripping away the rest of the paper, I revealed a lovely rectangular wooden box with a simple cut-out of a moon and a music note on the top. I smiled as I ran my fingers over it before gently lifting the lid.
The tune, though familiar, didn't register with me at first. When it finally did, the music was over and my breath hitched in my throat. Lifting the box, I twisted the knob at the bottom to get the music to play again. I couldn't have stopped the tears if I'd tried.
The lovely music was in the tune of "What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?"
Harry'd said he had something he wanted to ask me. This was it.
As I wiped my eyes, I heard my phone chime with a text.
Did you get my gift?
I laughed out loud, though I wasn't sure why.
Yes.
And?
It's lovely. Thank you.
Rebecca!
Harry.
Do I have to ask you properly? I don't wanna do it in a text.
No, I liked the way you asked me. I just can't really give you an answer right now. I'm still sick.
Then we'll have to get you well.
Ok
I have to go now. But was that a yes?
Yes.
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For the second time that day, my doorbell rang. This time it was nearly 7PM and I was watching TV with my feet propped up on the recliner. And this time, when I looked through the peephole, someone was there.
"Harry," I said when I opened the door, covering my mouth with my handful of tissues. "What are you doing here? I'm sick."
"I know, I brought soup." Harry held up the covered pot that I just noticed in his hands.
"You didn't," I sighed.
"I did," he nodded before walked past me purposefully into my kitchen.
I watched as he set the pot on the stove and turned on the burner. Then he turned to me.
"Do you have a ladle?" he inquired.
I just stared at him.
"Big spoon? Ladle?" he gestured.
"Oh," I shook my head and pointed to the utensil carousel. "Yeah, right there."
Harry nodded and grabbed the ladle, lifting the lid off the pot with his other hand. He stirred the contents, his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth.
"Have a seat," he ordered, pointing toward the small kitchen table.
I obliged, taking the seat nearest me so I could still look at him. He found the utensil drawer quickly, pulling out two spoons.
"Bowls?" he asked me.
I pointed to the cabinets next to his head where he retrieved two bowls and set them on the counter. Then he scooped up the soup with the ladle and filled one bowl at a time, setting one in front of me, and the other across from me.
"You're eating with me?" I looked up at him.
"Of course. What would you like to drink?"
"Water's fine," I said softly, pointing at the refrigerator. "There's bottles in the door."
Harry grabbed two bottles and sat down across from me at the table. I continued to stare at him as he blew on his hot soup.
"What?" he finally asked.
"I just...I don't know what to say."
"Don't have to say anything," he smirked. "Just eat. Get better so we can go out for New Year's."
I smiled at him, lifting my spoon.
"Harry, I-"
"Shh. Eat."
We ate in silence for a good ten minutes. I watched as his tongue darted out of his mouth with each bite, as if to test the temperature or taste before allowing his spoon to enter. I found it cute and endearing, and caught myself beaming at him a time or two.
"So I have a question now," I said, finally breaking the silence and setting my spoon in my bowl.
Harry looked up at me, licking his bottom lip. "Alright."
"Where exactly are we going? For New Year's I mean."
Harry's lips grew into a smile, his dimples dipping in his cheeks. "Ah. Well, that's actually another reason I came by." I watched as he pulled something out of his back pocket. Three somethings actually, and he laid them on the table in front of me.
"Those are what I've been invited to. Take your pick."
"Me?" I widened my eyes.
"Yeah," he nodded. "Whichever sounds like something you'd like to do. I want you to choose."
I continued to glare at him before inspecting the invitations. Two were very swanky Hollywood parties, held at some of the most glitzy and glamorous hotels, the third at the home of his friends Jeff and Glenne, whom he'd mentioned before. I swallowed hard.
"Or..." Harry added, "we could just stay here."
"Here?" I echoed.
Harry shrugged. "We don't have to go to some fancy party, Rebecca." He placed his forearms on the table and leaned forward. "I just wanna be with you."
I sniffled, grabbing the tissues from my pocket to wipe my nose. I felt horrible, and not just from my cold.
"I'm an idiot," I declared, looking down at my lap.
"What do you mean?" asked Harry.
"I...I wasn't ill that night, Harry. I left early because...I thought you weren't interested."
"Why on earth would you think that?"
Finally lifting my head, I saw Harry's expression of confusion on his face. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
"That song...started playing when we were dancing. I thought it was a sign or something. So I asked you what you were doing for New Year's Eve. And you said you didn't know."
Harry raised his brows. "I know."
"I thought...I thought that meant you...oh, I don't know what I thought it meant." I shook my head, feeling more and more like a fool.
"Rebecca," Harry grinned. "What more can I do to prove I like you?"
"Huh?" Great, now I even sounded like an idiot.
"I asked the band to play that song. I requested it specifically to be played while we were dancing."
"You...you did?"
"I was planning to ask you, but you beat me to it. It caught me off guard, so I had to play like I didn't notice the song. When you left for the bathroom, I got a plan B."
"Plan B?"
"I uh...asked the band to play "The Lady in Red" when you returned. I was gonna ask you then. But you never came back. I looked all over for you."
I hung my head in shame. "I'm so sorry," I muttered.
"Please. Don't apologize, love. I should have just asked you when you mentioned it. But...to be honest, I kind of got the feeling you were backing off."
"When?" I asked.
"Well," Harry hesitated, "the next day for one. When I texted you. I felt like something was wrong, not just that you were sick. But I was so bloody tired, I needed to get to sleep. Otherwise I would have just called and we could have talked. That's why I was glad when you finally texted me back on Christmas. I really wanted to talk to you."
"You were drunk, Harry," I scoffed.
"I was," he chuckled. "But I still meant every word I said. I missed you and I was thinking of you the entire time I was gone."
I blushed, looking down at my hands.
"I also wanted to make sure you were willing to see me when I returned," Harry continued. "I'd found that music box and I was really excited to give it to you. I reckoned that was the perfect opportunity to ask you out for New Year's Eve."
"I..I guess I'm not good at taking hints."
Harry laughed. "I guess not. 'Cause I thought I gave a lot."
I leaned my elbow on the table and rested my head in my hand. "I um...have a bad habit of reading too much into something. I suppose I was afraid of being wrong or disappointed. So I told myself you were just being nice. Even when you invited me to your Christmas party."
Harry's eyes staring directly into mine. "Rebecca, you're the person I cared the most about seeing at that party."
I widened my eyes. "Really?"
Harry smirked. "Yes. Do you think I called anybody else personally to make sure they were coming?"
If it was possible to still be breathing at that moment, I had no idea how I was. I felt the tears well in my eyes again so I threw my head back and quickly wiped them.
"I'm a first class moron," I muttered, my eyes shut tight.
"No you're not," I heard Harry say. "A little too cautious, maybe? But not a moron."
"I've just made a mess of everything," I cried. "You're so amazing, and while I got this idea in my head of kissing you at the stroke of midnight, you were thinking the same thing apparently, but I had no idea because I was getting ahead of myself while you were being romantic and I fucked it all up and-"
"Rebecca," said Harry, while I rambled.
"Then you got me that precious music box and came and brought me soup and you're so sweet, Harry, oh my god-"
"Rebecca!" Harry nearly shouted over me.
When I opened my eyes, he was staring at me, a look on his face that I couldn't quite read. My chest heaved with heavy breaths as I watched him rise from his chair and walk around the table to me. Then he surprised me by holding out his hand. Blinking, I took it and stood next to him as he pulled his phone out of his other back pocket. I watched as he tapped the screen a few times, then placed it on the table. The music began to play as Harry wrapped his arms around my waist. I smiled shyly when I recognized Ella Fitzgerald's voice come through the little speaker.
When the bells all ring and the horns all blow and the couples we know are fondly kissing Will I be with you or will I be among the missing?
"Harry," I whispered as we began to sway.
Maybe it's much too early in the game
I sighed, sliding my hands up his arms to his shoulders. Harry's eyes sparkled just as they had that night at the Christmas party. I, however, probably looked like death warmed over and was suddenly conscious of my makeup-less face and oversized t-shirt.
"You're so beautiful," declared Harry.
"No," I shook my head. Harry merely nodded in response. Then slipping one hand from my waist, he lifted it and slid it under my ear as he continued to gaze into my eyes.
Wonder whose arms will hold you good and tight
His lips were on mine before I could protest. His other hand was now on the other side of my head as he cupped it gently.
"Harry," I whined between kisses. "Harry, I'm still sick. I don't...want you to get...what I have..."
"Shut up for a minute, Rebecca," he growled against my mouth. "I'm tryin' to be romantic."
With a slight giggle, I surrendered. Harry continued his soft kisses, leaving a trail across my cheek before pressing his against mine.
Ah, but in case I stand one little chance
Harry crooned in my ear, singing along to Ella.
Here comes the jackpot question in advance What are you doing New Year's New Year's Eve?
Lifting his head, he looked at me with the greenest, most sincere eyes I'd ever seen. His thumbs massaged my jaw for a moment or two before he spoke.
"So what do you say, love?"
The song had ended, but I felt like my body was still dancing.
"I say I want nothing more than to be with you. Wherever it is."
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I looked at myself in the mirror one last time. Harry had texted to say he was on his way. After our little dance in the kitchen, we'd decided together to attend Jeff and Glenne's party. They were his friends after all, and the atmosphere, though still somewhat fancy, would probably be a little more relaxed and informal. Plus, Harry had made a good point that their house had a lovely patio, and we could step outside if needed, unlike at a stuffy hotel ballroom. Personally, I thought he was just thinking of more ways to be romantic. I wasn't about to fight him on that.
I'd still been under the weather for another day or so, but finally trudged through the next day so I could go shopping for something to wear. Harry had said he'd love to see me in that red dress again, but I'd told him he'd already seen me in it, and most likely anybody else who had seen me at the Christmas party that would also be at this one, including Jeff and Glenne. It was too soon for repeats, I told him.
So this time I'd chosen a short gold sequined dress with a sexy black mesh section down the front. I had to admit, I looked pretty and felt amazing in it. I stepped into my black heels and twirled around, smiling at myself just as I heard the doorbell. Grabbing my matching clutch, I answered the door excitedly.
"Oh!" I exclaimed when I opened it. I hadn't been prepared for what I saw before me. He was so handsome, he took my breath away. "Wow."
Harry nodded. "Wow, indeed."
It was only then that I noticed he was eyeing me up and down, taking me all in.
"My God, Rebecca," he swallowed hard before puffing out a huge breath. "Just when I thought you couldn't get more beautiful..."
I felt the blood literally flush my face at his compliment. I suddenly felt hot and weak in the knees.
"Thank you," I barely whispered.
Locking the door behind me, I took Harry's hand and walked with him out to the awaiting car.
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I couldn't remember the last time I'd been so happy. Jeff and Glenne were absolutely wonderful people and such gracious hosts. After an hour or so I was already feeling right at home and even told them I wanted their house (teasing of course, as though I could ever afford it). They both told me I looked beautiful, and once when I excused myself to go to the restroom, I turned to see Jeff pat Harry on the shoulder and heard Glenne say I was lovely.
When I returned, Harry beamed at me, sliding his arm around my waist.
"Thank God," he sighed in my ear.
"What?" I stared at him incredulously.
"Was afraid you'd run off again."
"Harry!" I scoffed, but I realized he wasn't joking. At least not entirely.
"I'm sorry," I said softly. "I swear that's not happening tonight."
"Good," he grinned. "Are you having a good time?"
I nodded emphatically. "The best." Then I leaned forward and gave him a peck on the lips.
Harry didn't leave my side all night except to use the toilet himself. He enjoyed introducing me to people, which made me feel appreciated, and I enjoyed seeing him happy and loose.
We took a stroll outside on the patio that was glowing with strings of lights. It was heavenly with the California breeze keeping the night cool, but not too cold. I stood by the railing looking out while Harry stood behind me, his hands on my hips as he nuzzled his face in my hair and down my neck.
About twenty minutes before midnight, the champagne started to get passed around so that everyone would have a glass to toast with.
"Rebecca," said Harry, raising his glass, "before the ball drops, I wanna make a little toast. To you."
"To me?" I smiled up at him.
"To us," he corrected, sliding his other hand down my arm until he captured my hand in his. Then clearing his throat, he continued. "Thank you for coming with me tonight."
"Thank you for asking me."
Harry's smile grew as he squeezed my hand. "You were my Christmas angel...if only for a bit..."
I looked down until Harry released my hand to lift my chin.
"Now you're...I'd say New Year's Eve angel but it doesn't make sense and honestly...you're even better than that."
For once I was totally speechless.
"Twenty seconds!" I heard someone call out.
Harry sighed. "To you, Rebecca. And hopefully...to us."
Not taking my eyes off his face, I clinked my glass with his and took a sip.
"To us," I finally echoed, lowering my glass.
"Ten! Nine!"
Harry's dimples dipped again as he took my glass from me and set it next to his on a nearby table.
"Six! Five!"
He grabbed me once more by the waist, pulling me flush against him, like he had when we were dancing. I immediately wrapped my arms around his neck so that my face was merely inches from his. I felt his breath as he counted along with everyone, though not loud enough for me to hear.
"Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!"
His mouth was on mine before I finished saying year. He kissed me deeply like his life depended on it, and probably mine as well. I let my fingers tangle in the curls on the back of his head as I melted into each kiss. I could hear cheering around us, but it all sounded far away. There was only Harry and me, our lips, our tongues, our moment.
When our mouths finally separated, Harry continued to stare at me until a slow grin spread across his face.
"Happy New Year," he murmured.
"Yes," I nodded, my fingers grazing his cheek. "Very happy."
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MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK
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goblinontour · 1 year ago
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Santa Baby
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some christmas fun with your husband after the kids go to sleep
warnings: husband!dad!alex, fluff, smut, piv, roleplay (kinda?), body insecurity (a bit)
word count: 2.3k
it was the first christmas you would be spending alone as a family and it was already a big mess. your two kids had been going crazy for the last few days about how they can’t wait to see santa, to meet him. and you couldn’t break it to them that santa wasn’t real, obviously, they were still little.
but it was too late to hire someone to come dressed as santa, it was already christmas eve. the only solution you could come up with was for your husband to dress as santa. he was reluctant at first saying they would know it’s him but you begged him and he agreed, eventually. he spent god knows how long until he finally found an open store that had a costume and he was getting a bit excited now, couldn’t wait to see how the little ones’ faces would light up.
your house was decorated like one you’d see in movies. you were a sucker for christmas and loved to place all the lights all over the house and this time the babies were old enough to participate in decorating the christmas tree. alex wasn’t the biggest fan, but he loved seeing you all happy from those silly things, and his heart was full with joy watching the little angels you two created, your family finally complete. well, maybe not fully, you continued to beg him to get a cat but he was putting it off saying he’s ’allergic’. liar. you know he’ll cave soon enough.
so time for santa to come was here, you brought the kids to the living room and they went nuts saying they can’t believe santa’s there for them and that he’s real. you were struggling so much not to laugh at alex all dressed up with the cheapest looking white beard on his face and a pillow stuffed under that to make it all the more accurate, even though he had a bit of a belly himself, being off from touring left a mark on his body, the once lean stomach he had now soft and squishy. he got insecure about it sometimes, but you assured him that you don’t mind it at all, making sure to tell him you fucking love it. it was so nice to lie on him and feel him so plump.
it went down perfectly after all, your heart melting as you watched him try to change his voice to make fantasy come true. they did ask where daddy was but you fooled them saying he was tired and already asleep, waiting till the morning to open santa’s gifts. and they were too young to question it. they agreed on opening the presents in the morning with daddy there as well, but they were happy they met santa.
soon enough they grew tired and you put them to bed, reading a little christmas bedtime story, and you caught them dozing off after only a few minutes, before they could hear the end of it. you gave them both a kiss goodnight and went downstairs to your husband to spend the rest of the evening together.
he’d removed the pillow from under his top and taken off the fake beard, but now he was scratching his face desperately.
“al stop it!” you told him off.
“what?!” he questioned, looking annoyed and irritated.
“you’ll give yourself an ugly rash if you keep scratching like that.” you said to him, not wanting to hear him complain about the marks later.
“it’s fucking itchy. ‘s your fault for making me do this.” he complained, pointing at his costume, but you knew he didn’t truly mean it.
“shut up. i know you loved it.”
“of course i did. just because i love the kids” he confessed “and you” he added, making sure you know it. “come here baby” calling out for you and putting his hand out for you to grab, and once you did he quickly pulled you onto his lap, taking you by surprise with how eager he was to hold you. and he grabbed your waist tightly, pulling you closer to him.
“now, why don’t you tell santa…have you been a good girl?” he said in a low tone, leaning down to kiss you softly, but quickly deepening it by grabbing your jaw and angling better towards him so he could slip his tongue into your mouth, dancing with yours in perfect sync. his mood was now vastly different to how he just acted a few minutes before.
“alexxx, what’s gotten into you?” you giggled as he started kissing down your neck, his own stubble ticking you and his hands slipped under your pyjama shirt, rubbing up and down your side.
“you won’t get a present if you’re not a good girl, answer me.” he pushed, nudging his nose into the crook of your neck, loving having you so close, taking in your scent. he said it was even better than the baby skin scent that you both got addicted to aftee having your first little one.
“yes, i was indeed a good girl this year, don’t you know it already?” you played into the little game he started.
“i don’t in fact. and i don’t believe you. why don’t you prove yourself?” you knew what he was getting at, you could feel him growing hard under you even through that thick costume. you moved so you get into a position where you could feel him better, and you started grinding your ass into his growing erection, evoking a grunt from him.
“good girls don’t tease” he warned, grabbing your face again, slapping it playfully a few times, very soft.
you moved, got up in front of him and stripped, taking off your clothes in the most seductive way you could, although you were wearing some christmas patterned pyjamas, and it was a bit silly. but you tried your best and knew he still loved you and would take you regardless of what you were wearing. you turned around so your back was facing him and you put your ass out, wiggling it for him and looking at him over your shoulder, smirking once you noticed the tent in his pants.
“i said no teasing baby.” he grabbed you by your hips and pushed you down on him again. he was fully hard, you could feel him perfectly as your bare cunt was rubbing on his dick over his pants.
by now you yourself were aching for it, wet in anticipation, and you knew those pants were already ruined by your juices dripping onto them.
he started grinding his hips and one of his hands went to play with your breast, kneading it in his palm and pinching your nipple every now and then.
roles have switched, he was now teasing you by also bringing his hand down between your legs, his fingers ghosting over your wet pussy, and he started by gathering the arousal from your hole, bringing it up to your clit and rubbing gentle circles that were simply not enough. you were whining and in painful need for more.
“please alex…need you.” you cried out
“what do you need darling?” fucking hell. he was going to make you beg for it, his fingers teasing your hole now, only the very tips slipping in and you moaned as he bit down on your neck, in that spot that made you go crazy for him.
“you baby please. your girl needs your cock now.”
“my girl mhmm…that’s right.” he hummed, pleased with how much you grew to need him so quickly. “then you better be a good girl and take it nice and deep, yeah?”
“yes, i promise.” you said before he even got a chance to finish his sentence, so eager. you needed him right now.
he moved his hand from your breast, snaking it around your waist to hold you tight in place, his other one leaving your pussy. he slipped it between your bodies, going under you, grabbing your ass and lifting you up just a bit so he could push his pants down, together with his underwear, leaving them to fall down to his ankles and rest there, not bothering to slip them off completely with his feet.
he took a hold of his hard cock, brushing the aching tip with his thumb, spreading the precum gathered there down his length, pumping himself a few times before lining it up with your entrance. he played with you once more, holding you so tight that you couldn’t just sink down on him, teasing your empty hole by pushing in just the tip, wanting to hear you beg for it again.
“al fuck me already, this is torture.” you complained to him, you needed him so fucking bad.
“ask nicely…how a truly good girl would say it.”
“santa baby, please fuck me now, please i need you inside me-“
before you could continue to beg him further, and you would’ve, he took a hold of your hips and lowered you down on his cock, both of you moaning in sink at the way it felt. you because of how good he felt finally being inside you, and him because of how your perfect hole took him in, moulded to him, forever just for him.
you started to grind on him, rolling your hips, loving the way he filled you up, but apparently it wasn’t enough for him. he held you by the hips again and started bucking his hips up, and you met his thrust by moving with him. he was so desperate, grunts leaving his throat continuously, combining in a lovely way with your own moans and whimpers. and god how much did the sound of his belly slapping your ass with each one of his hard thrusts turn you on and drive you crazy for him.
but he suddenly stopped and grunted as if defeated and disappointed, and you didn’t know what happened.
“what’s wrong alex?” you questioned, genuinely confused.
“‘s not deep enough. not like it used to, my big fucking belly’s in the way.” he complained, and you looked back at him over your shoulder only to see his face adorned by that little pout he does. he was like a kid mad at his parents cause he couldn’t eat candy before bed. you couldn’t help but laugh softly at how truly sad he looked.
“alex your belly’s so fucking hot stop complaining and fuck me.” you said to him, it hurt you to see him upset over that, but right now you really needed him to fuck you. “is it not good for you?”
“no, it is, but i was worried about you…’s not like it used to, do you even like it?”
“oh baby…you fuck me so good and i love your belly, i’m not just saying it please believe me now” you assured him.
“okay love, fuck you good right?” he seemed back into it, leaving his insecurities out of it for now.
“mhm, so good, you always do” you continued.
he started fucking into you again, this time slow and as deep as he could, he knew you loved it slow and honestly he was tired, the thick costume making him feel too hot.
it was absolutely delicious like that, how you would feel his plump fat head rubbing inside and hitting that spot that made you see stars just perfectly, despite what he said about it ‘not being deep enough’. he was just stupid.
his hand on your waist went to your mouth momentarily. “spit on ‘em baby, get them nice and wet.” he demanded, and you complied instantly, lowering your head to suck on the fingers he put up first, rubbing your tongue along them, tasting yourself from earlier. he slipped them out and you spit on them like he asked. he licked his lips and bit down on the bottom one as he felt your spit running down his fingers. he then brought them back down to rub your clit again, circling it just perfectly, your spit making them slip around just right on the sensitive nub.
you were so close, so was he, you could tell from how he was panting heavily as he continued to fuck into you, biting down on your naked shoulder harshly, making you hiss from the pain but the pleasure drowned it out, far greater than the temporary burn on your skin.
the moment his fingers pushed on your clit just right and he hit that spot deep inside you at the same time was it for you. you came all over his cock and he continued to push you through your orgasm, not giving up his movements on your clit, though his hips were faltering from how you were squeezing his cock so tightly. he fell apart not long after, your still sensitive and pulsating pussy milking him as he came, his warm cum deep inside you filling you up, coating and soothing your used hole.
he laid back on the chair, trying desperately to catch his breath, and you collapsed over him instantly, too fucked out to hold yourself up, his now softening cock still buried inside you.
“wait a second honey, just-“ he pushed you off him so he could take the dumb costume top off once and for all. “don’t know why the fuck i kept that on.” he laughed.
“well, now i can say i fucked santa, right?” you joked, pressing your back against his bare chest, loving the soft sweaty skin sticking to your back.
“that’s right baby” kissing the side of your face and rubbing his face against yours.
“it tickles stop ittt.” you tried to squirm away from his stubbly face but he hugged you tight so you couldn’t get away.
“i love you fucking so much, my girl…my wife…still can’t believe how lucky i got” he confessed.
“i love you forevermore.”
a/n: merry christmas i guess! i literally wrote this impulsively at the christmas family dinner…yeah. enjoy!
tags: @4chaos @picturezonthewall @st7rnioioss @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @whitepontiac @ohladymoon @rentsturner
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cjlouwho · 2 months ago
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Twelve Christmases
Chapter tags: drunk parent, abusive behavior, physical abuse (slap across the face)
Read below or on ao3
Day 2: 1993
“Before you go today, I have a bit of homework for you all.”
Mrs. Davidson was met with a classroom of groans.
“I know, I know,” she said, “but this is a fun one, I promise. Over Christmas break, I want you guys to write about your dream Christmas when you grow up. If you could choose anyway to celebrate, what would you do? Who would you be with? How many presents would you want under the tree? What foods would you cook? You can write it as a list, or a story, or an essay. However you want. Just make sure you write something.”
She looked at the time on her watch. “Alright, the bell is about to ring, so you can start gathering up your things. I hope you all have a very merry Christmas, and I will see you all in 1994!”
*****
Tommy slammed his door shut, locking it quickly before his dad could reach for the knob.
It had been a terrible day. The worst Christmas of Tommy's life, he was sure.
Michael spent every Christmas out at the bar, drinking the day away. He'd come home at night, usually, and spew out a few angry words before passing out on the couch.
But the bar he always went to decided to close this year for Christmas.
A part of Tommy had been excited. His dad would get to watch him open his presents for the first time!
It didn't quite work out that way though.
Instead, Michael had gone to the store on Christmas Eve and bought two cases of beer. He'd started drinking that night. Turns out, before he got to the point of passing out, he was loud. So damn loud.
Tommy spent half the night waking up up to bottles clanging, or his dad yelling at the TV.
By the time the sun started coming up, things had quieted down. Tommy crept down the hall to see his dad sprawled out on the couch. One arm flopped down the side of the couch, the other halfway down his pants.
He looked over at the tree where, at some point during the night, nearly half their ornaments had fallen off of it. Michael was known to dance with inanimate objects when he got drunk, so that's what Tommy figured had happened.
“Tommy,” his mom whispered from behind him. He turned to see his mom peeking out of the bedroom. She looked as tired as Tommy felt. She had dark circles under her eyes and had lost so much weight that she nearly swam in her size small nightgown. Her smile didn't reach her eyes anymore.
Still, she beckoned Tommy to her. “I kept your presents in here, Baby,” she said as he came into the room. “Didn't want to put them under the tree last night with your dad.”
She shut the door behind Tommy and locked it. “You sit on the bed,” she instructed, going into the closet.
He did as he was told, still feeling just as excited to have his presents in the bedroom instead of in the living room next to the tree.
She came out of the closet with three gifts in her hands, smiling as she handed them to him. “I couldn't get everything you asked for,” she said, kneeling down on the floor to watch him open, “but I think you'll like it.”
He smiled back at her, taking a deep breath. He always needed a moment before he opened his gifts. He'd get so happy it sometimes felt hard to breathe.
The first gift was Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle pajamas. Tommy had seen them at the mall one day and begged for them, but Vicky had told him no. He'd been so upset, having no idea she already had them stored away for Christmas.
The next gift was a remote controlled monster truck. His eyes had gone super wide with that one! He hadn't expected it at all. He couldn't wait to get outside and play.
The third present was an art set. Tommy had gotten into drawing dinosaurs and zombies lately, and Vicky wanted to make sure he kept drawing.
As soon as he was done opening his presents, he wrapped his mom in a big hug, thanked her, then asked if he could go outside and play.
“Just make sure you're quite when you're in the living room, okay? Shut the door gently.”
With a promise, and one more hug, Tommy had been on his way.
Everything was fine until Tommy got back home. He was smiling up until he reached the top step and heard his parents arguing through the door. He wanted to turn around. Leave for a few more hours and come back.
It was too late though. His dad saw him through the window and came straight to the door, tossing it open and all but yelling for him to come inside.
“I was here for you, Tommy!” he exclaimed, his words slurred as usual. “Here ta watch you and you didn't even let me!”
“Michael, he has no idea what you're talking about,” Vicky replied. Her voice stayed calm, measured... tired.
“Well 'e should! I stay home to watch my boy open 'is gifts an I don't even getta see it!”
“I thought you stayed home because the bar was closed today?” Tommy questioned. He knew right away that was the wrong thing to say.
His dad came over and jerked the remote controlled car from his hands.
Vicky sighed. “Don't break it,” she said, already walking over to get it from him.
He pointed down at Tommy once Vicky had taken the car. “You'll get it back once you apologize,” he said, teeth nearly gritting together.
His day was already ruined, and it was all his dad's fault.
Tommy was angry.
“Apologize for what?” he asked, matching his dad's glare.
“For being dis- dis- disrespectful!” Michael exclaimed.
“I wasn't being disrespectful!” Tommy fought back.
“Tommy,” Vicky warned.
“Hey! I loved you 'nough to stay home and see my boy op'n gifts!”
“You don't love me!”
The back of Michael's hand met his face so hard, and so fast, that Tommy stumbled backward before falling flat on his butt.
His dad had never hit him before.
He'd gotten angry. That happened a lot.
But he'd never hit him.
“Tommy!” Vicky exclaimed, hurrying over to him. Before she could even reach out and check on him, he was flying to his feet and running down the hall to his room.
He heard footsteps behind him. Knew it was his dad. But he slammed the door and locked it.
Michael banged on the door a few times. Begging for Tommy to open it, let him talk to him. The slap seemed to sober him up pretty quickly.
Tommy ignored him. Brought a hand to his face, touching it gently. His cheek felt like it was on fire. He moved his jaw around, trying to loosen it up a bit.
Once Michael gave up at his door, Tommy walked over to his desk and sat down. His eyes stung as he grabbed a pencil and a piece of paper and started on his homework.
One day I will have my own house. I will have a family. We will celabrate Christmas. We will be happy. Maybe mom can come be at my house with me. We will have lots of food on a big table. We will laugh and play games. My dad will not be there or he will be there but be diferent. Christmas will be like it is in the movies with people smiling and there will be lots of snow. I just want a grate day where mom doesn't feel sad. I will get my kids whatever they want and tell them it was Santa. I wish I still beleived in Santa. I will also have big monster trucks in my front yard and a big pile of dirt to play in. That is a prefect Christmas.
He stayed in his room the rest of the day, using his new art set to draw a make believe land where the monster didn't win.
*****
On his first day back at school, Tommy overheard a few kids in his class talking about what they wrote for their assignment.
“I said that one day I'd live in a big, huge mansion with like fifty cars and I'd get even more cars for Christmas, and I'd drive them wherever I wanted to go,” one boy said.
“Well, I wrote that when I'm older I will make Christmas a whole month and people will have to give me presents every single day.”
“I wrote about the food my mom and dad cook and how when I'm older they can't tell me not to get more dessert. I can just eat, eat, eat whatever I want! It'll be great.”
One of the kids turned back and looked at Tommy. “What'd you say?” they asked.
“Oh, um, I- I forgot to do it,” he replied. Before class began he reached into his backpack and took out his paper, crumbling it up into a ball and tossing it in the trash.
He didn't care if he got an F. Christmas was stupid anyway.
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becausebuckley · 3 months ago
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michelle's buddie fic recs: week 45!
what a week... i'm greatly enjoying all of the post-8x06 buddie fic (many more recs to come!) and took some time to revisit old favourites, which can be found in previous rec lists. enjoy!
this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some might also contain spoilers for season 8.
if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!
all that we need | not1_2write | 26.4k | M
When Buck buys a Powerball lottery ticket he doesn't think much beyond his need for change to air up his tire. He forgets all about the ticket until word spreads that the winning ticket was sold in LA and hasn't been claimed yet and pretty much dismisses it. After all, there's no way he won the lottery. Turns out no, he really did win the Powerball, to the tune of 295 million dollars and just in time for Christmas. He's going to make sure the 118 has the best Christmas of their lives. And just maybe he'll have a good one too. idk about all of you but i do dream about winning the lottery regularly (way too often for someone who's never bought a ticket, that's for sure). this is such a lovely look at what buck would do with a whole lot of money <3
i take this magnetic force of a man | playinginthunderstorms/@playinginthunderstorms | 9k | M
Turns out, he isn’t actually afraid of commitment. He’s just afraid of committing to the wrong thing, or the wrong person. Ana, obviously, had been a mistake, because he hadn’t been ready, and he’d put other people’s expectations above his own wants and needs. With Marisol, he’s done the same thing. Moved too fast, doing what he thinks is the right thing according to who? His parents? For Chris’s benefit? Again, pushing past his own comfort, discarding any doubt because it doesn’t fit like… Like Buck. blanket rec for one of my favourite authors who has been posting incredible fics lately!! this one in particular is so beautifully written and so romantic and just so very buddie <3
if i need to rearrange my particules i will for you | thelikesofus/@thelikesofus | 7.9k | GA
Eddie catches a cold and Buck takes care of him while having a minor, non-platonic emotional crisis. this is definitely influenced by the fact that i've been ill myself but wow truly nothing hits as hard as buddie taking care of each other when one of them isn't feeling well. the bed sharing in this is so good <3
let me | facewithoutheart/@facewithoutheart | 1.6k | T
Eddie doesn't think he needs romance. Buck, respectfully, disagrees. AKA the fic where Buck picks Eddie up and kisses him breathless against a wall. and buck is so right for doing that!! i love it when buck turns eddie to jello <3 so lovely!
second child, restless child | lesbianrobin/@lesbianrobin | 23k and counting| M
how Evan and Maddie make it out of Pennsylvania, and Buck and Maddie build a family. okay so listen these past few weeks i've been doing this thing where i only rec finished fics, and every time i scroll through my ao3 history for these rec lists, i come across this one and go oh i wish i could rec this already. and then i realised wait it's my rec list i can do whatever i want, and so then i did. anyway, mind the tags for this one, but wow are you in for a treat here! i love the character dynamics (chim is brilliant in this!! and maddie!!) and i'm so so excited to see the rest of this fic unfold <3
said that i was fine, said it from my coffin | justhockey/tumblr | 7.3k | T
And it doesn’t matter that he feels like he’s dying. Like the version of himself that he’s always been is suddenly a stranger to him - just a mask he’d spent his entire life hiding behind, without ever even realising he was wearing it. It doesn’t matter that Eddie is…that he’s gay. Because he knows - as surely as he knows that the sun will rise again tomorrow - that the only person he has ever, and will ever, truly love is Buck. And Buck isn’t his to love. another blanket rec for an author who's been posting incredible fics!! this one in particular has such brilliant eddie characterisation and i just devoured it the second i got that little ao3 email hehe
there's no place like home-spun | icewhisper | 4.1k | GA
Buck has spent most of his life trying to find something to settle fidgeting hands and the restless need for a home. He found the key to the latter when he was thirteen. He finds the former in a cozy home on South Bedford Street with two of his favorite people. (AKA the Buck-crochets fic that literally no one asked for.). this fic makes me want to learn how to crochet. i am the least crafty person ever and i have like minus time but just know that if two weeks from now i'm posting about yarn and crochet hooks and whatnot, it's all thanks to this fic. i love buck who crochets so very much <3
you get your dreams for free | llovely/@butchdiaz| 14.9k | T
five times buck and eddie cuddle drunk and one time they cuddle sober. buddie bed sharing my absolute favourite. i read this late at night curled up under three blankets and it hit just right <3
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andvys · 2 years ago
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We'll burn the sky | part six
Tumblr media
Warnings: a lot of angst, mentions of suicide (reader's dad's death), mentions of drug abuse, absent parents, mentions of cheating
Pairings: Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Rockstar!fem!reader | Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham
Summary: after finding out the truth about Eddie, you struggle with your feelings and your trust in him.
Words count: 7.6k
@littledemondani thank you for the idea with the *cough* kiss *cough*
Series masterlist
-
When you were 7 years old, you watched your mother pack your clothes into the pink bag your dad gave you for your birthday. You were crying, holding your favorite plushie against your chest as you stared at her. 
“Please mom, I don’t want to go,” you said to her, “I wanna stay with you.” 
Your mother didn’t listen and if she did, she didn’t care. She threw your clothes and your shoes in there, not even bothering to fold your shirts or your pants. 
“I can’t do this anymore.” Is all she said to you, letting the tears fall down her pretty face, “he can take better care of you.”
“I don’t want to live with Dad, he’s never home.” 
Your words meant nothing to her. She continued to pack your clothes until they were all stuffed in the bag. She grabbed your hand and led you to her car. She dropped you off at your Dad’s house. She gave you one last hug and a goodbye kiss on your forehead before she left you standing in the rain, crying for her not to go, not caring that he wouldn’t be home until later that night. 
That was the last time you had seen her. Sometimes she would call or send you a letter but that’s all. She never gave you an explanation as to why she left you. 
You weren’t shocked, even at the age of 7, you could tell that she struggled with you in her life, you saw it coming. 
At the age of 12, you watched your dad being hospitalized after a concert. He collapsed on stage after performing the last song of the night. You watched him sing from backstage and when you saw him passing out, you didn’t even hesitate to run towards him, brushing Sam’s hands off of you when he tried to pull you away from your dad. 
They told you that he was dehydrated and tired and that is why he had passed out but you weren’t clueless. Even then, you already knew what he did when he locked himself in the bathrooms and came out wiping his nose.
You weren’t shocked about what happened that night. 
He was an amazing dad and when you moved in with him, he did everything to make you happy. He spent as much time with you as he could but he was a suffering person and you knew that it was only a matter of time before he left you too. 
At the age of 15, you watched your best friend choosing others over you. She began to pull away from you more and more, every day. Always making excuses to cancel plans with you. She’d tell you she was sick but then you’d see her making plans with other people, with girls that didn’t like you. 
That didn’t shock you either. 
At the age of 17, your life changed forever. 
On Christmas Eve, you came home after visiting Sam and his family. You brought the cookies that his kids made, the ones that your dad loved so much. You placed them on the counter before you went looking for him, thinking that you would find him in his office. 
You could still smell his cologne and the pine from the christmas tree that stood in the large living room whenever you thought of that day. 
A dreadful feeling settled in your stomach when you didn’t hear his voice or the sound of his guitar playing. 
He wasn’t in his office, he wasn’t in his bedroom either and deep down you already knew what you would find. You called out to him with a shaky voice as you neared the open bathroom door. You opened it fully and the sight in front of you made you want to throw up. 
Your dad was laying on the bathroom floor, needle still sticking inside his skin, his eyes were closed, he was already gone.
You ran towards him and dropped to your knees, you pulled his dead body into your lap and cried for him to wake up even though you knew that he would never wake up again, he would never open his eyes again, he would never come back again.
What you found that night didn't shock you either, you saw it coming. He had been dead for a long time already, what was left was only an empty shell.
But nothing, absolutely nothing could have prepared you for this moment. 
You stand frozen in place, your heart is racing in your chest, you feel the emptiness in your stomach starting to eat at you. The coil in your throat makes you struggle to breath. 
Her lips are moving but you can’t hear what she is saying. 
You blink, furrowing your brows as you tear your eyes away from her and look into those brown eyes that you have found home in. He is staring at you, looking into your eyes with shock, sadness, panic, regret and guilt, the guilt that has been there so many times, the guilt that you couldn’t explain until now. 
And even though she is there and other's are rushing past you, no one else exists in that moment but the two of you as you stare into each other's eyes.
You are confused and lost. There is no other emotions yet, just endless confusion.
Your eyes trail down to her hand that is resting on his chest, her body is pressed against his, she is smiling as she looks up at him, not realizing that he isn’t even listening to a word she is saying.
Your breath gets caught in your throat when you notice that his hand is laying on the small of her back. The hand that had been holding yours a few moments ago. Your eyes find his again and you can’t even hide the shock on your face. 
You don’t need words, you don’t need an explanation, you don't need to ask questions to find out what this is. 
She is his. He is hers. They are together. 
How long have they been together? How long has he been keeping this from you?
Chrissy.
His voice calling her name echoes in your mind.
Chrissy. Chrissy. Chrissy.
You have heard that name before.
He feels sick, he feels like crying, he feels like taking your hand in his and running away, not even caring about the girl in his arms, that one he hasn’t thought about once today. 
His heart aches in his chest when he sees the look on your face.
He pleads with his eyes, he blinks as he feels the tears welling up in his eyes. 
‘What have I done?’ he thinks to himself. 
“Eddie…. Eddie!” 
Chrissy’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts, he tears his eyes away from you and looks down at her. Blinking the tears away, he tries to give her a smile but he can’t, he only looks at her in confusion. Why is she here?
She smiles at him and snuggles into his chest, “aren’t you happy to see me?” 
He doesn’t answer her, he looks up at you but you are gone. Panicked, he starts looking around for you but he can’t see you anywhere. 
He closes his eyes, a shaky sigh falls from his lips.
You let your feet carry you towards the others, who are waiting to go on stage. None of them notice the confused and shocked look on your face. Gareth and Jeff are joking around, Johnny occupies himself with his guitar. 
The opening act is still playing but you can barely hear anything, you feel as though you are underwater, hearing the faint voices coming from somewhere on the surface. 
Your chest is rising up and down heavily. 
You don’t understand. 
“You okay, kid?” Rob asks, placing a hand on your shoulder. 
You flinch and he raises his hands up in surrender, “whoa, it’s just me, y/n,” he mumbles. The boys turn around to look at you after hearing his words. Jeff furrows his brows when he sees the lost and confused look on your face. 
“Hey, are you okay?” he asks, taking a step towards you, “did something happen?” 
The confused look stays in your eyes as you stare at him. Does he know? 
“Where’s Eddie?” Gareth asks, looking at you in concern. 
Rob places his drink on the equipment cart before he takes a step forward, “kid, are you okay? You’re about to go on stage. Do you feel sick or nauseous, do you need something–” 
“Oh shit,” Jeff mumbles as he catches the sight of Eddie, holding Chrissy’s hand as he walks towards you. 
“Fuck,” Gareth sighs with an unreadable look on his face. 
Your stomach drops. Closing your eyes, you let out a laugh of disbelief. They all know. 
The only clueless one is your manager, he looks around with confusion written all over his face. 
Jeff mumbles your name as he tries to place his hand on your shoulder but you slap it away with an angry sigh. 
“Hi, guys.” 
You hear her voice and it makes your heart ache even more. 
“Hi.. Chrissy.” 
You feel so much hurt and so much anger but you refuse to let them see it right now, you refuse to let these feelings take control of you right now. 
‘Pull yourself together,’ you think to yourself. Taking a deep breath, you plaster a smile on your face and turn around to look at the girl, you have yet to speak to. 
Out of the corner of your eyes, you can see Eddie shifting uncomfortably. 
Her eyes meet yours and a smile appears on her face– a smile, you can tell, is not genuine in any way. You can see the distaste in her eyes, the jealousy, the coldness, “hi, I’m Chrissy. I’m Eddie’s girlfriend.” 
Girlfriend. You want to throw up. 
“Girlfriend?” you ask with a smile on your face, “Eddie never told me he has one and he usually tells me everything, right Eddie?” you say without looking at him. 
She blinks, squinting her eyes, her lips twitch, “I-I’m sure he told you, after all he wrote all those songs about me,” she says, tilting her head as she looks you up and down. You can see the judgmental look in her eyes. 
He wrote the songs about her? You want to scoff, you want to laugh, you want to scream and cry. He wrote the songs before he came to Los Angeles, he wrote the songs when he was still in Hawkins. All this time, he had been with her already, when he met you, he had already been with her, when he touched you he was with her, when he kissed you he was with her, when he said all those things to you, he was with her.
“What songs?” you laugh, shaking your head. You watch the anger appearing in her eyes, her lips part and she’s about to say something when you cut her off. 
“Oh, you mean the songs that were shit? They didn’t even make it on the album, honey.” 
Eddie can’t even be hurt by your words, the songs were shit but he feels surprised. He stares at you with a slightly shocked look in his eyes, just a few minutes ago, you stood there with a heartbroken look in your eyes and now there was nothing but a coldness in them, he has never seen before and it scares him. 
Rob raises his brows, he places his hands on his hips and looks around with wide eyes. 
Gareth clears his throat, he looks down and starts playing with his drumsticks. 
“Didn’t you listen to the album?” you ask. 
She shifts uncomfortably, playing with the hem of her skirt as she looks up at her boyfriend. He looks back at her and you look down at his hand, she is holding it but his hand is limp in her touch. 
“It’s not my style,” Chrissy mumbles, giving you an icy glare.
"But he wrote those songs about you," you tilt your head, pouting slightly.
She hates you, you can tell that she does. You can see it in her eyes.
She only shrugs in response.
You nod, “well, I hope it won’t be too wild for you tonight,” you mumble as you give her one last look before you turn away from her and Eddie. The boys are all avoiding looking into your eyes and you scoff at them. 
Reaching for the glass of whiskey that Rob placed on the table. 
“Wait–” Rob mumbles but quickly stops when he sees the anger in your eyes, waving his hand, he turns away from you. 
Eddie watches with a bad feeling in his chest. 
You slam the now empty glass back on the table and take a look at him, “better get your good luck kiss, Munson,” you mutter as you reach for the red microphone on the table. 
His lips part, he wants to say something but no words come out. 
The soft look in your eyes long gone, all there is now is the angry, betrayed and cold look in your eyes and it breaks his heart. He wants to take your hand, he wants to leave this place, he wants to explain everything, he wants to pull you into his arms, he wants to kiss you again and beg you to go back to the way things were.
Everyone notices the shift of energy. Everyone notices the anger and the intensity in your voice. 
You don’t change anything about your performance with Eddie, you let him touch you the way he always does, you let him pull you closer, you let him touch your waist, you let him lean his forehead against yours, you let him sing in your microphone with you. 
You can feel his fear, his regret, his guilt. 
He can feel your anger, your pain and the stiffness in your body when he lays his hands on your body. 
The anger and the rage is so clear in your voice and in some weird way, it makes you even better. 
Usually, you engage with the crowd a lot more but tonight, all you see is Eddie. You look into his eyes with so much anger, it makes him nervous. 
The pain doesn’t hit you until the last song- the one that you have spend so much time working on with him. The realization that floods through you makes your heart hurt the way it never has before. Everything begins to make sense. Why he never told you, why they boys never told you. 
He used you, in every way possible and the realization makes you feel sick.
You let him take your hand as you say your goodbye’s and you let him keep holding your hand when you exit the stage. You see Rob staring at you in concern and you see Chrissy staring at yours and Eddie’s hands with anger in her eyes and it only makes you even more sick. 
He has a girlfriend, he had one all this time. 
You rip your hand out of his. 
“What was that?” Gareth asks you in excitement, blind to the angry tears in your eyes, “you were fucking fantastic out there tonight!” 
You huff in anger as you rush past all of them, ignoring his words, or Jeff’s or Rob’s as they all call out to you. 
Eddie follows you with his eyes, fear and worry lingering in his eyes.
Chrissy walks towards him with a smile on her face, “hey–”
“Hold on,” Eddie mumbles, not even looking at her, “I’ll be right back,” he says before he runs after you. 
“Eddie!” Chrissy yells in disbelief. 
You slam the door shut and walk further into the room. Breathing heavily, you put your hands on your head. Your bottom lip quivers and your vision blurs, your eyes fall on the couch you kissed Eddie on, just a few hours ago. 
“I’m crazy about you.” 
“There’s no other like you.” 
“I fucking adore you.”
Lies. All lies. 
You felt pain before, you felt heartbreak before but not like this.
You feel the tears welling up in your eyes but you refuse to cry. You scoff in disbelief and shake your head angrily.
“Sweetheart.” 
You freeze at the sound of his voice. You hear him closing the door. You don’t even bother to blink the tears away before you turn around to look at him. His bangs cling to his sweaty forehead, his hands are shaky, his eyes are filled with regret. 
For a moment, neither of you say anything. You just stare at each other. He sees the pain in your eyes, the pain that he has caused. 
He walks towards you slowly, you don’t move, you just blink as you stare at him in confusion and disbelief. 
He stops in front of you, “I can explain.”
You frown at his words, your bottom lip quivers, a fresh wave of tears well up in your eyes as you stare into the eyes that once brought you so much comfort. 
Explain? Is he serious? What is there to explain? 
You don’t even notice that your tears have started to fall. He cups your cheek and wipes them away. 
His touch brings you nothing but pain. 
You push him away from you, “don’t fucking touch me.” 
Hurt flickers in his eyes, “sweetheart–” 
“I’m not your sweetheart!” 
“Please,” he whispers, “don’t do this.” 
“Do what?” you scoff, shaking your head. 
“Don’t push me away,” he whispers. 
His eyes are glassy, filled with nothing but guilt and pain. 
“What the fuck, Eddie?” you mumble as place your palms against his chest, pushing him further away from you and he lets you, he doesn’t fight it, he just closes his eyes as you keep pushing him back until he is pressed against the same door, that he pushed you against when he kissed you, “what the fuck?” 
“You have a fucking girlfriend? What the hell is wrong with you?” 
He blinks, looking away for a moment, he sniffles, bringing his hand up to his face to wipe his tears away. 
“Why are you crying?” you ask angrily, “why are you fucking crying? You lied to me all this fucking time! You lied about your fucking feelings, you lied about the shit you said to me earlier!” 
He shakes his head.
“I never lied to you about the things that I said. I meant them,” he says as he cups your cheeks again, “I meant them.” 
“Why didn’t you tell me?” you whisper, staring at him in confusion.
He shrugs.
"How long have you been with her, huh?"
He looks down, brown eyes flashing with guilt, "two years," he whispers.
You laugh in disbelief, "two years and you haven't mentioned her once."
You know why, you know exactly why he didn't tell you.
“I-I didn’t want to,” he says, “I didn’t think that anything would happen between us, I-I fought the feelings for a long time but I– I couldn’t fight them any longer and I couldn’t, I just couldn’t tell you because I knew you wouldn’t want me anymore if I told you about her."
"How dare you talk about feelings?” you ask, not even feeling the tears anymore, “you fucking used me, you did so from the start!” 
“What? No!” he shakes his head with wide eyes, “I never used you!” 
“Yes, you fucking did! That’s why you never told me about her! That's why the guys never told me! You used me for everything! You used me for the songs, you used me for this fucking band, you knew who I was– who my dad was! You needed me and you needed to make sure that I stayed, that’s why you spent so much fucking time with me, that’s why you made me like you, that’s why you made me fall in love with you!” you scream at him, your voice heavy with emotions, your eyes filled with nothing but disgust and anger for the man in front of you. You don’t even care about hiding your feelings anymore, you don’t care about hiding the pain or the anger. 
Eddie only stares at you with a shocked expression on his face, he blinks and stands frozen in place. 
He knew you liked him, he knew you liked spending time with him, he knew you liked touching and kissing him but he didn’t know that your feelings were as deep as his. 
“Using me for the music wasn't enough, you just had to go even further, huh? Was I her replacement? You needed someone to keep your bed warm?” you cry, throwing your hands up. 
He doesn’t say a word, he just stares at you as tears slip down his cheeks, not knowing that he makes it all even worse with his silence. 
You sniffle, your chest is filled with so much pain and you begin to struggle to breathe. 
How could you let this happen? How could you not see all the clear signs? How were you so blind? 
He talked to her when you were there, Chris. 
“Chris…calm down! Please.. just stop calling her that.” 
“I’m not coming home, don’t you get it?”
You shake your head at the memories. You can’t even look at him and the broken look in his eyes, you turn away from him as a sob falls from your lips. 
His heart shatters at the sound of it. His own tears run down his face, he rushes towards you, hands itching to touch you and comfort you. 
You want to pull yourself together, you want to stop crying, you want to push him away and walk out of the room but you can’t. Right now, you can’t, it all hurts so much. 
You feel his hands on your cheeks again, he tilts your head up, “I never used you, not in any way, you hear me?” 
“Yes, you did,” you whisper angrily, “you all did, I was a big fucking joke to all of you! You needed me for this stupid band, you said so yourself, remember? And while you were at it, you decided to use me too because she wasn’t there!” 
“No!” he pulls you closer, you can feel the shakiness of his hands, you can see how much he’s hurting too, “that’s not true, at all!” Yes it is, no one and nothing can convince you otherwise. 
You close your eyes and shake your head, the stiffness in your body disappears and you melt into his touch, you’re exhausted. Eddie leans down, his lips touch your cheeks, he kisses your tears away, “please, that’s not what happened. I– we never used you. I wanted you right from the start, I wanted you in the band, I wanted you with me,” he mumbles against your skin. 
“Just stop, Eddie,” you whisper even though you want to yell at him and push him away from you. 
He continues to kiss your tears away as you stand there frozen in place. 
“Please, just stop,” your voice breaks and so does his heart. One look into your eyes and he knows, he lost you. 
“I’m done with this,” you say shakily, “I’m done with you.” 
His bottom lip quivers, his face falls and just the sight of him alone is enough to shatter the last piece of your already broken heart. 
“Please.” 
“Stay away from me, Eddie,” you whisper as you take one final look at him before you turn away. 
His shoulders slump as he begins to cry harder, he wants to follow you, he wants to take your hand, he wants to pull you into his arms again but all he can do is watch you leave. 
You grab your jacket and wipe your tears away before you open the door and walk out with fresh tears in your eyes. 
Betrayal and heartbreak is all you feel. His tears, his pleading eyes, his words, his touches didn’t convince you. You don’t believe him, you don’t believe a single word he told you. 
You feel stupid, you feel like a fool for falling for him, for believing him. All this time, he led you on. 
Using you for the music was one thing but using you to fill the hole that she left when she wasn’t there was another. 
You press your lips together to keep yourself from sobbing. Putting the jacket on, you walk away, not bothering to look for the others. You don’t want to see them, you don’t want to see anyone. You don’t want to go on the tour bus, you don’t want to go back into the hotel room that you have shared with Eddie. 
“Y/n!” 
You clench your jaw at the sound of Gareth’s voice. 
“Wait up for me!” 
You halt in your tracks, closing your eyes, you take a deep breath. You turn around and tilt your head as you look at him.
His hair is wet and he changed his clothes, you can smell his aftershave as he stops in front of you. His eyes widen a little, guilt flashes in them, he speaks your name softly. 
“What do you want?” you ask. 
The anger rises up in you again. He pushed you into Eddie’s arms, he did everything to bring the two of you together, all while knowing about his girlfriend. 
“I-I.. shit, I didn’t think this would happen.” 
A look of disbelief settles on your face and you can’t help but laugh at his words despite the burning in your eyes. 
“Well, what did you think would happen, huh?” you ask, not caring about the prying eyes of the staff. 
Gareth sighs, looking down, “I just, Eddie likes you and you like him, I just wanted.. to help.” 
You scoff, shaking your head, “help? You helped real fucking good, Gareth. He had a girlfriend all this time and you what? You thought that it would be fun to convince him to cheat on her with me?” you point to yourself, “the fool that fell in love with that asshole?”
He shakes his head with wide eyes. 
"No, I-I thought he would leave her, I didn't even know that they were still together, you were so close, I thought it was over."
Bullshit.
“What a fucking shit show,” you mumble before you walk away to look for one of the security guards that will get you out of the venue. You don’t want to be around any of them tonight. 
-
Eddie walks out of the room after wiping the tears off that continued to fall after you left.
“There you are,” Chrissy says as she walks towards him after leaving the conversation with Rob. 
He plasters a smile on his face as he looks at his girlfriend. 
“Is everything okay?” she asks, reaching for his hand. 
He nods, “yeah, everything is okay, Chrissy,” he lies. 
She furrows her brows and stares at her boyfriend, “you know, I thought you’d be happier to see me.” 
“I am happy, Chris,” he mumbles, “I’m just tired.” 
A breathy sigh leaves her lips, she stands on her tippy toes and places her hands on his chest as she starts to kiss his neck, “are you really? I missed you,” she purrs as she continues to kiss his neck, “I thought we’d make up for lost time tonight.” 
Eddie closes his eyes, he places his hands on her waist and sighs, not out of pleasure but out of frustration. He can’t do this, he doesn’t want to do this. 
“Come on,” he mumbles, “I just want to go back to the hotel.” 
She gives him one last peck before she pulls away. 
The smile he gives her is so painful and forced, he is surprised that she doesn’t question it. 
“I didn’t know you were planning a surprise.” 
“I uh–” she lets out a quiet laugh, “I’m actually here for Aubrey’s bachelorette party, we’ve been here since monday.” 
“Oh,” he nods. Of course she didn’t come here just for him. 
“How are things back home?” he asks to fill the awkward silence between them.
Her blue eyes flash with something unreadable, she looks away for a moment before she looks back at him with a sheepish smile on her face, “good.. yeah, they’re good.” 
“Do you see Wayne sometimes?” 
She laughs a little as she shakes her head, “where would I see him, Eddie?” 
He frowns at her words, shrugging, “at the store?” he suggests, “family video? I know you love to get your movies there.” 
She looks down, “I never see him around,” she shrugs. 
Leaving the venue was always a lot, fans were waiting outside, hoping for an autograph or a picture or more and usually, everyone would stop to engage with the fans but everything was different tonight. Gareth felt guilty after the conversation with you, giving his fangirls nothing more than a few smiles and hugs before disappearing in the tour bus, Jeff signed a few poster and so did Johnny but Eddie walked straight into the tour bus, trying to shield his girlfriend from the prying eyes and the paparazzis.
Eddie doesn’t mind the fans but he hates the media, the flashing lights, the prying eyes and the questions that are constantly thrown at him and at you. 
As he looked around, he noticed that everyone was there but you. 
“Where’s y/n?”
“She already left,” Rob says with a pointed look on his face, “with one of the security guards.” 
“Oh, okay.” 
-
You felt angry on stage. 
You felt angry when you talked to him. 
You felt angry when you talked to Gareth. 
You felt angry on the way back to the hotel. 
But the moment you stepped into your hotel room and turned the lights on, your eyes fell on the bed that you shared with Eddie earlier, all the anger disappeared and all you felt was agonizing pain in your chest. 
He left his things here, the shirt he wore earlier is still on the bed, his sunglasses are still on the dresser, his leather jacket is draped over the chair. One of his necklaces laying next to yours that you have taken off this morning. 
You close your eyes as you lean your back against the door. 
You are still in disbelief, still in shock. You feel like a zombie as you waltz through the room, throwing your jacket on the chair by the window, you take your boots off and throw them on the floor. You collect some fresh clothes before you make your way to the bathroom to take a shower. 
Usually, you are excited to wash the sweat off from performing all night but tonight, you just want to wash his touch off. As though that could ever be possible. 
His touches, his kisses are burned into your skin for eternity.
You stand there for what feels like forever, your legs almost give out and you have to sit down to keep yourself from falling. You pull your knees up to your chest and let the water fall down on you. 
You sit there until the room is filled with steam and the heat gets too much. 
The tears don’t appear until you stare at yourself in the mirror. 
You brush your hair and stare at the marks that Eddie left on your neck, the tears begin to fall, staining your cheeks once again. 
He touched you and thought of someone else. 
He kissed you and had her on his mind. 
You were nothing but a placeholder. A body to keep his bed warm. 
He was using you while you were falling in love with him like a fool.
You feel sick, you feel like screaming your lungs out, you feel like destroying things, you feel like destroying yourself, you feel like punishing yourself for being so stupid and blind.  
You turn off the lights and leave the bathroom just as a knock on your door echoes through the silent room. 
“Y/n, kid, are you in there?” 
You sigh in relief when you hear Rob’s voice on the other side of the door. 
“Yeah.” 
“Is uh– is everything okay? You need anything?” 
With your eyes closed, you lean against the door. Warm tears slide down your cheeks, your breathing gets heavy and you can feel yourself nearing a breakdown. 
“No, I’m good, I’m just gonna get some sleep now,” you say. 
“Okay. Don’t miss breakfast tomorrow, alright?” 
“I won’t.”
“Good night, kid.” 
“Night.” 
You drag yourself to the bed, throwing Eddie’s shirt on the ground as you lift the covers and crawl inside. The moment your head hits the pillow and you smell him, a sob falls from your lips. You squeeze your eyes shut and pull the blanket up to your chest. 
The pain is unbearable.
You never understood what your dad felt like when he got his heart broken, you could only imagine it. 
Now you understand it. 
Now you understand everything. 
Through the thin hotel room walls, Eddie can hear you crying. He can hear your sobs, he can hear you suffering. Because of him. He wants nothing more than to go over to your room and pull you into his arms, hold you and take away all the pain that he has caused but he can’t.
Another girl is laying in his arms, snuggling into his chest with a sigh. She sleeps soundly in his arms. 
Eddie looks down at her and his heart hurts. She is not the one he wants any longer. He doesn’t want her in his arms, he wants you. 
Your cries make him cry, hot tears run down his skin, staining the pillow he is lying on. He broke your heart and his own too. 
Losing you was something he was always afraid of but he hoped that he could prevent it, he hoped that he could break things off with her before you found out. 
But everything he had built with you fell apart in one night. 
And he knows that there is nothing he can do to change it, there is nothing he can do to fix it. He ruined it all himself. 
Maybe there is a way for you to fall back together but deep down he knows, he lost you. 
-
If there is one useful thing that your mother has taught you in one of the few phone calls you have had with her, it’s to never show how much you’re hurting. 
��You always gotta look good, even if you don’t feel good. You don’t need others to be all up in your business and see how much you’re suffering. They want to see you suffer, don’t show them.’ 
So you pull yourself together even if you don’t feel like it. 
‘Always make sure your hair looks good, fix your makeup, wear your best clothes, smell good.’ 
You do your hair, you put on makeup, you pick out a good outfit and your favorite shoes, you put your favorite perfume on. 
‘Smile, honey. Don’t show them how miserable you are, you don’t want to give them that satisfaction.’ 
You nod to yourself as you look into the mirror. 
‘And if someone hurts you, make sure to hurt them back. Make them suffer.’ 
Yeah, thanks mom. 
The thought of seeing Eddie makes you feel sick and yet you make your way into the dining area. 
You don’t hear the whispers around you and you don’t feel the eyes on you, focused on something— someone entirely else as you get yourself a coffee before leaving the buffet to look for the others. 
You find them sitting at a round table by the big windows. All of them are there, including Eddie and his girlfriend. You clench your jaw at the sight of them. 
Your heart aches in your chest when you see her moving closer to him, whispering something in his ear as she pushes his hair away. It makes you angry, he makes you angry and she makes you angry too. You want to rip her hands off of him and you want to hurt him. 
Why does he get to be happy after what he did?
“You spend the night by yourself, Gareth?” Rob asks as he sips on his coffee. 
Gareth hums, “yeah, I–”  he pauses to shovel the scrambled eggs into his mouth, “didn’t feel like hooking up with some stranger.” 
Chrissy gives him a disgusted look as he talks with his mouth full, “ew,” she mumbles. 
Gareth gives her sarcastic grin before he stabs his fork into his pancake and takes a bite out of it. 
She rolls her eyes and turns away from him. 
Rob chuckles, “look at you, turning into a whole new man,” he jokes causing Jeff to laugh. 
“Yeah, he is ready to settle down,” Johnny grinnes. 
Gareth swallows, almost choking on his food, he reaches for the orange juice and gulps it down, wiping his mouth with his sleeve to piss off Chrissy, he smirks to himself when she hears her mumbling something under her breath. 
“Settling down isn’t my thing, look at Eddie, he is in a relationship and he’s miserable,” he says as though he is stating a fact as he places his elbows on the table and points to his friend with his fork. 
Eddie’s puffy eyes widen and he looks at his friend in surprise. 
“He is not miserable!” Chrissy gasps in disbelief. 
Jeff clears his throat. 
“He looks pretty miserable to me, Christy.” 
She glares at him as she tries to come up with a response. 
Eddie avoids looking into her eyes, instead he looks at Jeff, who stops chewing as he stares at something behind his shoulder, his eyes widen a little and he suddenly looks nervous. 
Eddie's eyes flash with curiosity. 
Just as he’s about to turn around, he suddenly feels a ringed hand settling on his shoulder and sliding down his back. It’s your hand. His heart flutters and so does his stomach, even with his girlfriend here.
You place your coffee on the table and sit down on the chair next to Eddie’s. Everyone pauses what they’re doing, staring at you with nervous and curious looks on their faces. 
You smile as though nothing ever happened. 
You turn to look at Eddie. You have to restrain a gasp when you see the puffiness and the dark circles under his eyes. He looks just as miserable as you are feeling and the sight alone is almost enough to make you cry again but you keep smiling at him, sliding your hand back up to his shoulder, you lean closer, “good morning, baby.” You kiss the corner of his mouth. Your lips linger for longer than necessary, you watch his eyes widen in shock, a little gasp falling from his lips.
Chrissy stares at you, frozen in place just like her dumbfound boyfriend. 
A shit eating grin appears on Gareth's face.
Johnny stares at you in shock.
Rob smiles into his mug and Jeff almost spits his food out as he looks between you and Eddie and then at Chrissy who stands up suddenly, chair scraping against the floor as she looks at you angrily, “what the fuck?!” She shrieks, “Eddie!” 
Chrissy looks down at him in disbelief as he makes no move to remove your hand or push you away from him or look up at her. His eyes are on you as he sits there frozen in place.
He doesn't move when Chrissy slaps his shoulder, he doesn't move when she says his name again.
Leaving your hand to rest on his shoulder, you take your mug and take a sip as you stare at him with a satisfied smile on your face. 
Two can play that game, Eddie. 
"What's wrong, Chrissy?" you ask with a sweet smile.
She shakes her head, furrowing her brows at your question, "why are you kissing my boyfriend?"
"Do you want a kiss too?" you ask.
She gasps, "I- what?!"
Eddie gapes at you.
Gareth can't even contain his laughter any longer, earning a slap on his shoulder from Jeff.
"Eddie and I share everything, didn't he tell you?"
You move his hair back, running your fingers through it as you lean your chin on his shoulder and he lets you.
Her cheeks are red, her eyes are filled with anger as she looks between you and Eddie. It's amusing to you.
"Eddie?"
He finally tears his eyes away from you and looks up her. His confused stare turns into a guilty one and she easily figures out why he looks so guilty.
"Chris-"
"You asshole!" she cries as she delivers a harsh slap to his cheek before she storms away.
Eddie closes his eyes, clenching his jaw, he deserved that.
The moment she's gone, you move away from Eddie and you lean back in your chair, taking a look around, you smirk to yourself when you see all the shocked faces.
Rob scratches the back of his neck as he glances at you.
Eddie speaks your name softly.
You expected him to get mad at you, to yell at you and ask you why you did that but instead you're met by the sight of his soft eyes as you look back at him and irritates you.
"Don't you want to follow your girlfriend, Eddie?"
Confusion is written all over his face as he shakes his head. His cheek is red from the harsh slap, eyes filled with concern and hurt.
"What was that?" he asks, not understanding why you would touch him and kiss him again after what you said to him last night. A foolish part of him hopes that things can go back to the way they were before yesterday but the coldness in your eyes shows him that things will never be the same again.
"That was me showing your girlfriend what a piece of shit you are, Eddie."
Saying these words hurt you just as much as they hurt him.
He says your name with a shaky voice, like he is on the verge of crying.
You can't do this.
You can't do this.
Looking into his glassy eyes, hearing his shaky voice, seeing how hurt he looks, breaks your heart even more.
You thought you could make yourself believe that you would be fine, that you could pretend that it doesn't hurt but you would be lying to yourself.
You get up and storm out of the room without looking back.
"Y/n!"
He didn't follow her out but he follows you.
You walk through the lobby and back to the elevators, blinking your tears away.
"Wait!"
He grabs your upper arm and pulls you back, placing both of his hands on your arms, he cages you against the nearest wall so you don't escape him again.
"Let me go."
He shakes his head.
You can see the fear and the pain in his eyes, the sadness; as though he wasn't the one that got him into this situation in the first place. Your heart still hurts.
"Please," he whispers, "I know I fucked up, I know what I did was wrong, I should have told you, I should have left her before we-"
"Stop," you sigh, "I don't wanna hear it."
"I'm just, I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you."
"But you did."
His eyes are filled with tears and yours are too.
"Last night you told me that you have feelings for me-"
"I do," he says, squeezing your arms.
"How long have you known then?"
"For some time now, before we left California."
You nod, sniffling, you look down and close your eyes.
"See, I don't believe a word you're saying, Eddie. If you did have feelings for me, you would have left her- I'm not saying that you should have done that, I don't want to be a fucking home wrecker but a good person would have been honest about their feelings and leave their partner before becoming a fucking cheater," you pause as you take a deep breath and look back into his sad eyes, "you didn't tell her anything, you didn't tell me anything. You don't have feelings for me, you needed me to keep yourself satisfied and now that I know the truth, you do everything to make me believe you because you're scared."
You push him away from you, "you're scared that I'll leave the band because you know, you'd be nothing without me."
"No, please, y/n," he sighs in defeat, "that's not true, I don't even care about that, I care about you, about us."
"There is no us, there never was and there never will be," you say, staring at him through your blurry vision, "I'll stay for the rest of the tour but the moment it's over, the moment we're back in LA, I'm out and I never want to see you again after this, Eddie."
He starts crying and so do you.
"No," he whispers.
The look in his eyes and pain in his voice destroys you, it leaves a hole in your heart.
Your eyes are filled with betrayal and heartbreak.
His eyes are filled with pain, fear and heartbreak too.
Now you are nothing but two broken people.
And this is only the beginning of all the pain that is about to follow.
-
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