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cinnamostar · 10 months ago

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five dates to fall in love

part one. part two. part three (here). part four. part five. part six coming soon.

pairing : hyunjin x gn!reader

summary : after a two year long unspoken hatred, hyunjin and you are forced to be costars in a romantic series, but when it comes to filming any of the romance scenes, you both utterly fail and are unable to get through your lines. the director threatens to take your roles away if you two aren't able to get past this within the next week, which spawns the genius idea from both your managers: can you learn to (fake) fall in love in seven dates and save your careers?

wc : 2.7k

cw :actor!au, enemies to lovers ?!, slowburn (?!), not proofread, descriptors of insecurity and stuff, internal struggle but nothing serious

a/n : finally... its here... sorry for this taking long, i was traveling for holidays and then classes started but its here! lmk what you guys think :3 this chapter is a lot chiller imo... just trying to set a Vibe of emotional conflict... ALSO im not trying to paint hyunjin as the bad guy.,.,, but i think its also important to show that people will form opinions no matter what and will inevitably pick a side. so yus...

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Tears cascaded down your warm cheeks as you tossed yourself in your bed, the frustration and anger you were holding back finally catching up to you as quiet sobs escaped your lips. You hated how horrible the feeling of pure anger, as it always felt you were on the verge of bursting at the seams from how violent and erratic the emotion was as it overran your body. You had no idea what to do with it, always allowing it to linger til it overwhelmed you to the point of tears and surrendered to its burning grip. Your phone began to vibrate, which your hand mindlessly reached over for and picked up without second thought, as you knew it would be no other than Chan calling you at such a moment.

“Y/N… Are you okay?” concern dripped from Chan’s voice, while all you could muster out was a muffled grumble as you stuffed your tear-stained face into your pillows. “Right,” he responds, acknowledging your groan, “Well, I heard what happened through Changbin, so I called to check in on you.”

You take a deep breath in to soothe your hoarse throat from your onslaught of tears, praying your voice wouldn’t be too shaky as you spoke, “Well, I’m upset.”

“I don’t blame you one bit, I’d be just as upset as you are,” he reassured you gently, “Do you want to talk about it? Or do you need some more time to figure your feelings out?”

“I don’t know,” you mumble, turning your face away from the pillows so your voice was clearer, “I don’t know how to feel. It’s just a lot. It’s such a stupid reason for him to have just been so shitty to me for so long. He literally could’ve just asked me or talked to me about it instead of assuming.”

“Right, I agree. Even Changbin didn’t know about that being the reason,” added Chan, “I’m sure he lectured him on it because that is a crazy conclusion to jump to.”

“And I’m even more upset that was the conclusion he landed on! Why did he just assume I’d do something so terrible? Why did he not consider that I was trying to help him secure the role?”

“Sounds like he has an insecurity issue, if I had to guess, but who knows. You have every right to be upset, but there is another pressing matter we do need to address.”

You sigh, rolling onto your back as you use your free hand to rub your temples, “Yeah, I know. As upset as I am right now, I do still want to keep doing this project, but…”

“But…?”

“I don’t really… know if I can do that because I don’t wanna see his stupid face or go out on any other practice dates,” you huffed angrily, feeling a bit relieved to verbalize some of your feelings.

“Well, I won’t force you to go on another date if you still need time to cool off, but maybe it will help you get used to seeing his stupid face after this. Plus, Changbin did tell me that you have permission to yell at Hyunjin if you wanna get that out the way.”

You let out a small chuckle, unsurprised to hear that Changbin said such a thing, “I’m not going to yell at him, but I appreciate the offer. I don’t know, I’m still really worked up from the whole thing.”

“Give yourself time, you can let me know in the morning how you’re feeling and we can go from there, okay?” Chan asks, the gentle tone of his voice bringing you a sense of comfort.

“Okay, I’ll do that. Thanks Chan.”

“Of course, take care, Y/N.”

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The next morning rolled by rather quickly and while it would’ve been a lovely day to stay in bed, your stubbornness caused you to find yourself walking to your third date of the week. You were still terribly upset at Hyunjin and forgiveness was not in the cards at this point, yet you had other pressing matters that did not allow you to wallow up in hatred and resentment for him. You had to set your feelings aside for a moment in order to make some sort of progress on this current acting project, as you were way too excited for how the final product would turn out and truly believed in the success of the film.

Although, you didn’t have high hopes for today, as you expected it to be a similar outcome to your previous dates. Today’s day was Chan’s idea, which was attending a local farmer’s market in your area that provided all sorts of family-owned shops to look through, including a variety of food to choose from. It was a bit last minute, but Chan knew your love for these small events, so he hoped this would bring you some joy, but also give you the opportunity to wander off from Hyunjin if needed, while also giving you both the chance to talk about something.

You were approaching the entrance to the park it was being hosted at, checking the time on your phone relieved to know you were on time. Honestly, while Hyunjin would probably be late once again, you didn’t mind the chance to enjoy bits of the market alone, especially on such a sunny day during these winter months. However, you were completely stunned to find Hyunjin waiting by the entrance as well, nonetheless waiting five minutes earlier than the time Chan had told you. He stood there awkwardly, both hands in the pockets of his coat as he bounced on the balls of his feet nervously, his eyes widening when his gaze finally lands on you.

You approach him with caution and a raised eyebrow, not completely believing the sight before you, “I didn’t expect you to be here so early,” you state curtly, trying your best to remain civil and cordial despite yesterday’s events.

“Well,” he stammered, his fingers jittering in his pockets, “I think I owe you an apology, and I thought showing up on time for once was one way to show that I am being genuine.”

“An apology?” you question, your ears not believing his words.

He sighs nervously, brushing a hand through his hair, “I have… realized I was entirely wrong about the situation, and I am truly sorry for that and for treating you so horribly the past two years we’ve known each other.” You wear an unconvinced expression, unsure what could’ve caused him to have a change of heart overnight, especially since he was just in deep denial the day before. He continues his statement after picking up on your apprehension, “I ended up reaching out to director Han about the situation and he… he told me how much you vouched for me when he spoke to you.”

You nod your head as you take in his words, “I see, well, I’m glad you’ve come to that realization and I accept your apology,” a hopeful look appears on his face, “But, I do need time before I can forgive you because the way you’ve treated me has really hurt me. And the fact that you thought I’d ever do that to you hurt me a lot too.”

His expression falters, but he offers an understanding smile, “I completely understand, I honestly do not even deserve your kindness right now, so thank you for being kind about this.”

You return his smile with a tightlipped one, still not entirely believing the sudden change in him, but you couldn’t lie, it did feel a bit nice to see him so timid and meek, and hearing an apology come from him did help loosen the knot of rage that laid dormant in your stomach. “Well,” you clear your throat awkwardly, trying to find a way to continue the day, “Do you want to head in?”

“Sure, lead the way,” he responds, his hands returning to his coat pockets as he anxiously trailed behind you. Eye bags hung on his face, indicating the restless night he had suffered due to the guilt he had been digesting since his phone call with the director. Hyunjin felt horrible after the revelation he had, feeling nothing but the heavy, deep seated weight of anxiety and guilt resting atop his chest. Even the sight of you made the feeling worse, facing the reality of how his actions have affected you all this time was a whole new hurdle he had to learn to conquer. The least he could do was try to be as kind as he could be from here on out, and brace himself for whatever angry slurry of curses you had for him, but how could Hyunjin forget?

The volatile version of you he had become used to these past two years was not who you truly were, but something he provoked out of you through his incessant insults and stale attitude. In reality, you were an extremely kind and patient person outside of the context of your relationship with him, and your reaction to his apology was evidence of that. He couldn’t help it, he felt like such an idiot for thinking you, of all people, would have ever sabotaged an important role for him, and he only further deluded himself in that belief by pushing you to the point of petty toxicity.

The best he could do was remain quiet as he followed your course through the various stalls, the shame only intensifying when he would witness your eyes widen with joy whenever you found an item that interested you, and how you even took the time to converse with each stall owner about their products. The genuinity in your nature was something he couldn’t believe he had denied for so long, disillusioned himself so far to have forgotten it. All for what? Because he couldn’t accept his own failures, or face the daunting insecurities about his talents that he held so closely to his heart? Perhaps it was your self-assuredness that caused a hint of jealousy to brew into this mess he had concocted today, your very confidence that struck a chord of envy within him. He didn’t quite understand what led him to act in such a manner, he could only guess why he was the way he was, but all he knew was that he owed you a lifetime of favors.

At the moment, he stood uncomfortably by your side as he watched you peruse through a few crocheted trinkets a stall had, afraid to disrupt the bits of peace you could’ve had with him tagging along. In all honesty, to an outsider, he probably looks like a child who got dragged along with his parents on a day out. You sigh as you place the trinket down, turning your head to catch his eyes darting around nervously, “Hyunjin,” you speak. He startles upon hearing his name, not expecting you to ever pay him any mind today. “I get this is awkward, but you can loosen up a bit. I don’t bite,” you chide with a hint of playfulness in an attempt to lighten the mood.

He lets out a strained exhale, acknowledging your words, “You’re right, I just don’t want to make you feel weird or uncomfortable,” he confesses.

“Well, I think staying quiet doesn’t help that cause much, does it?” you ask rhetorically before adding on, “It’s okay. Have you seen anything you like from any of the stalls? I really like what this one has,” you muse, a gentle smile taking your features as you hold up a small crocheted keychain of a jellyfish with a wobbly smile on it, “He’s kinda silly looking, I think I might take him home with me.”

Hyunjin lets out an airy chuckle, his shoulders relaxing a tad, “He definitely is funny looking,” he replies, “Ah, I don’t know. There’s so much here, this is my first time going to something like this.”

“Oh, this is your first time? You’ve never been to the farmer’s market ever?”

“Nope, never been, but this is nice. It’s a lot better than I imagined.”

“You’ve been missing out, I love going to these. I try to go every now and then whenever I’m free,” you took out your wallet, handing the vendor cash to pay for the keychain, “There’s always fun knick knacks here, and everyone is so sweet. You sure there’s nothing you wanna stop by before grabbing some food?”

His eyes scan the stalls surrounding you both, but you notice them lingering at a small jewelry stall that sold handcrafted rings, ones that definitely fit his aesthetic. “Come on,” you motion him to follow you to the stand, “Maybe you’ll see something you’ll like.” He follows behind you, still in a timorous manner, but you could see the way his eyes brighten once he realizes where you were dragging him off to. Although you were far from friends, it didn’t mean you weren’t aware of how particular he could be when it came to fashion, and you wanted him to at least get something out of today after suffering intense awkwardness.

It was now your turn to watch Hyunjin look through the assortment of jewelry the owner had laid out and of course, he was gravitating towards the silver rings, each with their own intricate designs that demonstrated the amount of artistry and talent the owner held. He looks overwhelmed with the amount of choices before him, indecisive as he holds two different rings in his hands, modeling each to figure out which one he liked best. “Why not just get both of them?” you ask.

“Both?” he ponders on the suggestion, “I guess I could do that.”

“Or,” you start, picking up a ring that you thought would suit his taste, “get this one instead,” you hand him the ring, a knowing smile on your face.

His mouth fell in surprise at it, slipping it on his finger as his eyes marvelled, “Wow, this one is so nice,” he mumbles while now placing the two previous rings away, “How did you know I’d like this one?”

You shrug nonchalantly, turning away from him, “You know, we were friends once,?” you remind him, “Just get it, find me by the food stands once you pay for it.”

He stays in his place as he watches you walk away, once more left speechless by your kindness as he begins to wonder how you were able to treat him as such. The guilt that made its home in his stomach began to rumble, the bitter taste of it overpowering his sense as he comes to terms with just how wrong he was all this time, and how awful he had been to someone as gentle as you.

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The day had come to an end, and surprisingly the latter half went better than either of you could have expected. In a way, it was like time hadn’t passed as you both chatted effortlessly over food from whatever food truck caught each of your attentions. You both caught up on what you missed in each other’s lives during your heated rivalry, and somehow, every part of the conversation felt natural, nothing felt out of place and it was almost as if the past two years didn’t exist.

It was incredibly unsettling for you, and you started to feel a bit conflicted on where your anger lied with the boy as the time you spent softened your heart. Although, you knew you couldn’t allow him back into your life that easily, as his behavior deserves some sort of consequences, so you decided you couldn’t allow yourself to surrender that easily. Not all because you found yourself missing the friendship you once had with him, that wasn’t a good enough reason to overlook his actions. You cursed yourself silently as you arrived home, yet there was a small voice in the back of your mind that tried to convince you that perhaps it was best to let this happen in the name of the acting project you were both on.

No, no, you remind yourself, he definitely doesn’t deserve your forgiveness or trust that easily.

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taglist: @kopikokrunch @icouldntcareless22 @kidrauhlschik @hhwangsmoon @lestayzone @vixensss @cupidcures taglist cut off at 20 people :)

#cinnamostar writes #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz fanfic #skz imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids hyunjin x reader #skz hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin fanfic #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #stray kids fanfic #skz angst #skz fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids angst

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whimsical-roasting · 1 year ago

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Jamie Tartt and the Five Love Language

THERES SO MUCH I COULD SAYYY and special thanks to @caapsiizzereads for helping me brainstorm some of these!! ugh just wanna love on the babyboy so much yknow??

TELL ME IF THERE'S MORE YOU CAN THINK OFFFFF

Words of Affirmations:

HE HAS A PRAISE KINK. ITS LITERALLYYYYYYY CANNON

Babyboy is so precious…… he knows how it feels not to get kind words, and so he just can’t help but give them out to you

“Woah, babe…your mind..” in a stunned manner when you go off about something you’re passionate about

“You’re everything to me,” he whispers at night as you fall asleep

Has a shared spotify playlist that you both can collab on, and it’s just songs (lyrics) that remind you of each other!! Jamie plays it when he’s heading to away games in the coach, and it makes him feel a bit calmer

Giving you ALL the praise and dirty talk during sexy time “you’re so fucking beautiful”, “you make me feel so so good” “holy fuck angel”

Sometimes just stares at you randomly with a goofy look and you’re like ??? what ??? what is it ?? did he realise i’m ugly or my nose is weird or wHAT !!!???!! and he’s just like, “you look like sunshine”, all smitten and shit

Kisses each feature on your body and says “my favourite” to every. single. one.

“I believe in ya!”

Desperately wants to make sure you guys have a couple’s song - something meaningful that describes how he feels about you that he can play for you both… like Sweet Nothings by Taylor Swift/Hearts Don’t Break Around You by Ed Sheeran/Simple Things by Miguel

Plays that song after fights when the silences are still tender; when you’re drunk and slow dancing in the kitchen at 3am; when you’re getting dressed for a gala, and he’s fixing his hair, and you’re putting on your earrings

“I adore you, sweetheart”, “you look like a pretty flower”, “me heart fuckin sings seeing ya”

Physical Touch:

Absent-mindedly plays with your hair

Nuzzles face into your neck and then peppers kisses on your shoulder

Massages/scratches your scalp cause he knows how good it feels when you do it for him

Traces patterns on your knee and thighs if you sit next to him

Gotta be holding hands at all times

Pinky promises are sacred… probs locks pinkies and then kisses his thumb to “stamp it”

Slapping his ass as he walks past you, and so he’s always covering his butt, complaining “babeeee you can’t do thattttt”, but then he’ll be all pouty if one day you don’t slap his ass when he walks past… “do you not love me anymore?”

He will randomly come up to you, wrap your arms around you, getting as close as possible and tuck his face between your shoulder and neck, saying that he’s recharging

Always gotta be touching some part of you.. it’s the only way to live tbh

Gift Giving:

Remember when Jamie was like, “can’t I just buy them all PS5s as a sorry??” “what better thing to spend money on than love?“ LMFAOOOO babyboy :”) he means well

The amount of effort he put into Roy’s gift for Uncle’s Day <3

Jamie would fucking love getting you fancy, expensive gifts around big occasions (birthdays, holidays etc.)

BUT I think he’d also love getting you smaller gifts like… Sunday morning flowers, or stocking up on different kinds of herbal tea in his kitchen cause he knows sometimes you’re in the mood for a random cuppa on quiet evenings

Personally, someone like me loves cute tea cups/mugs, so I think buying two mugs to keep in his house cause “they’re so cute, and I wanted them for us” would make him so happy!! He doesn’t even use them all that much, but just seeing them in the cupboard makes him smiley

The kind to want matching outfits or colour-coordinated outfits - most def would buy you both matching sneakers (so would Isaac/most of the team with his S/O)

Gets you a ‘J’ gold chain and wears a gold one with your initial

If he sees some targeted ad on your insta or something for what you’ve searched up he’s like hmmm,,,,,,i might just,,,*add to cart*

Quality Time:

Wants to spend all his time with you!! Ofc he does!!!

Is happy to just sit in silence, stroking your calves he watches tiktok with your legs on his lap!! Esp if you’re like reading/doing work on your laptop

He just wants to be there yknow? And he tries not to be annoying but the little puppy can’t help but wanna talk and touch and, ultimately, annoy you

Tries to invite you to all his events? “Can me girlfriend come?”

Even the ones that aren’t for guests, “babeeee, what do ya mean you won’t come to Colin’s guys' night? I swear they’ll be fine with it…probably!!” “can I come to girl’s night with ya? I’ll let you paint me nails…come on.. Pleaseeee?”

Texts you periodically during the night regardless ahahaha

I like the idea of, “hey I gotta drive somewhere, and it’s gonna take me 30 minutes..can you talk?” whilst one of you is in the car and the other’s at home or, I dunno, has some time during their day

Date nightssssss every two weeks… OR if the season gets busy and he’s also exhausted from Roy’s trainings then SPECIFIC carved out time to be affectionate and date-y

“I’m so sorry, love, I know we had that reservation tonight, but I came home knackered and just crashed…” “Jaim, it’s okay-” “No, no, it’s not! I’m so fucking dead from training I don’t even get to take ya out anymore! What if- what if you wanted a picnic, huh!” “Baby, it’s okay, really.. How about we set up a picnic on the living room floor and order takeout? Something that Roy’ll let you eat, yea?” “I’m so fucking grateful for ya, angel, I swear”

He always wants you to watch him score a goal on FIFA cause he’s a child ahahaha… probably teaches you how to play and then pouts when you score as Obisanya

Wants to try out random hobbies with you - sip and paint cause “I’ll have an excuse to draw outta the lines”; knitting cause “Bumbercatch said it’s soothin, babe”; quick dry clay but he makes a big circular lump at first and grins at you “look babe!! I made a football!”

Acts of Service:

HIM TEACHING ROY HOW TO RIDE A BIKE

Makes you coffee once he’s back from his 4am training

Always offers you his jacket/coat

“I know this was stressing ya, babe, so I took care of it”

“Don’t worry, love, I’ve been practising this dish just for you.. I won’t burn it this time, promise”

Late night cravings???? McDonald’s fries and an Oreo Mcflurry?? He’s already slipping on his jacket and finding his keys (imagine how attentive he’d be with your weird ass pregnancy cravings omg)

ALWAYS opens doors for you... Probably yells “WAIT” when in the car with you just so he can jog out and open your door with a grin

Always down to carry your purse, puts it on his shoulder like it’s HIS despite having his lil bum bag across his chest

Nightime or morning routine, he probs has to get ready before you so he lays out your skincare for you. Probs adds toothpaste on your brush if he hears you getting ready to enter the bathroom

Probably the main one driving everywhere, but if you drive and need to fill up your tank, he’ll be the one to get out and fill it then pay,,, he’s almost offended that you say you’re capable of doing so yourself, “babe, what am I here for?!”

Tries to eat in accordance with your dietary requirements (e.g. I’m vegetarian) if you guys have date night - or he’ll always have like mouthwash and gum so he can kiss ya later without making you feel uncomfortable!!

“Ooh babe, they have the ravioli ya like and the vodka gnocchi!! Okay, you order the ravioli, and I’ll get the gnocchi and we’ll split, yea?” “Hey Jaim, can we order fries too?” “Fuck yea!”

#jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso x reader #jamie tartt #phil dunster #jamie tartt love languages #tell me moreeee #i didn't proof read so gl bae

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koithelittle · 1 year ago

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christmas movies & cuddles

note; my first fic here, yay!! terrified would be an understatement. idk how long it’s taken me to write this but it’s been a while, i was really struggling with being okay and confident with it so if it suck’s, i’m sorry. requests are open tho! for all things, and my inbox just in general so have at it! okay that’s all.

warnings; use of daddy/dada, cutesy pet names, brief mention of alcohol (wils past wif cwistmas), ummmss,,, mark boardman is there! great sitter- okay that’s all i think! not proofread for mistakes so beware!

pairing; cg!wilbur soot x gn!little!reader

navigation

taglist; @jjtheresidentbaby @lillylvjy @wilmaslittleflower @whos-nicooo (ask to be added!)

wilbur always found enjoyment in making you happy, in doing things that would bring a smile to your face or make you laugh and giggle. he loved to be your sun, when all you were surrounded by was darkness.

he's never been fond of holidays if he's honest. he didn't like dressing up for Halloween, and as a guy in his mid-late 20s, he didn't particularly care for the party side of halloween either. when it came to Christmas, it only seemed to remind him how lonely he was. or had been. before he met you, christmas was spent inside, alone with alcohol to numb the loneliness.

but now, with you, he has every reason to celebrate it. christmas decor goes up november 1st, Christmas cookies get made the day after and he already has a list of gifts he plans on getting for you and all of your shared friends. he has plans of activities, and small outings to go on. you go ice skating together, where he holds you to his side and keeps you from falling. he takes you out to get a christmas tree together, bringing it home and setting it up in the corner of the den.

he'll stand on his toes to hang up the garlands, spending hours outside hanging up christmas lights on the porch (you tell him it's not worth the cold he'll endure, but he insists on doing it without you peeking all so it's a surprise). he loves doing things for you, and holding you and keeping you warm during the cold nights. he'll make you tea or cocoa and hold you between his legs as you both watch a christmas movie.

you show him all your favorites, although, elf is his all time favorite. he finds it bizarre and funny at the same time. how silly it is, and campy it feels. he'll rub your stomach and kiss your cheek, holding you close to his chest.

if he's honest, part of why he does all of these things is to help you, to heal you and to make christmas fun for big you and little you (because let's be honest, he does everything he can to bring a smile to your face both big and little).

lately, though, he's wanted to focus more on at home, quiet christmasy adventures. things that you would feel comfortable doing when you're regressed, which meant quiet and cuddly activities that meant being cooped up inside.

he'd seen the whole boo basket trend, and thought it was a neat idea but wanted to have his own twist on it (prior to deciding, he also saw the burr basket posts but those fizzled out before he really got a good idea of what he had planned). he sat down at his desk to list a few stores he'd stop by and what items he planned to get from each one.

the local bookstore was sure to have a santa book, and maybe even a few jellycats (you eyed them all the time, and he almost always sneakily bought the mini ones to hide around the house). after the bookshop, he'd head to another shop, one that he's sure would have a basket and maybe a blanket, some candy and instant cocoa, amongst other things.

once his list was completed, he hurried down the stairs to where you were cooped up in the corner of the couch, wrapped up in one of his blankets with your stuffed bunny held against your chest. you'd been regressed for a few hours now, and needed quiet time so he set you up in the living room awhile ago, your favorite cartoon playing on the TV.

he sat beside you, pulling you into his side as he kisses your cheek and temple. he rubs your arm as he smiles down at you, "hello, baby, you ok?" he whispers as you whine and crawl into his arms, sitting in his lap.

he chuckles softly, nuzzling his nose against your hair as your hands grip onto his shirt. he pulls back to get a look at your face, hand on the side of your head as he pushes hair out of your face.

"love," his voice is a bit more firm, "are you okay?" you shrug as a response, soft frown held on your lips as he sighs and pulls you closer. he presses kisses to the top of your head, running his fingers through your hair as his other hand rubs your back.

he holds you for a while, the TV playing as background noise more or less as he coos and whispers a soft lullaby to soothe you a bit. when your grip on his shirt loosens, and your breathing steadies out, he pulls back to look you in the eye again.

"I've gotta go out for a bit, do you want to go stay with grace or wilma?" he whispers softly, hands on your lower back as he gets you to sit up a bit more.

you shrug, eyes stuck on the wall behind him as you zone out. he rubs your back, bringing your attention to him again, "okay," you mumble, dropping your head to your shoulder.

he kisses the shell of your ear, recognizing that you're most likely nonverbal or at least close to it. he nuzzles his nose against your cheek in a light manner, tickling you. you giggle softly, tensing up before relaxing in his hold when he kisses your temple.

"what if... I called over wilma to keep an eye on you, mm? orrrr maybe joe? ash? mark?" he smirks, pressing a few kisses to your cheek.

"ummm.. mark!" you giggle softly, smiling wide and happy at the thought of getting to see Mark again. you have a few drawings for him, as well!

"mark? okay, well can you give Daddy a few minutes while I call him, yeah?"

you nod softly, scooting out of his lap and settling in front of the TV as you start to play with your stuffies. wilbur sits up, walking over to the foyer as he calls mark, listening as it rings.

mark picks up, "hey, mate! what's up?" his voice is bright and chirpy, always happy.

"hey, I've got a favor to ask," wilbur starts, and you perk up. you sit up, leaning over the back edge of the couch, looking over at him and smiling.

Wilbur smiles over at you, chuckling before he continues, "I need to head into town for a bit and I was wondering if you'd come over and look after y/n for a bit? they're little right now and I just don't want to leave them alone but I can't take them either," Wilbur sighs, pacing a slight bit as he awaits and answer from mark.

you don't bother to listen to the rest, slinking to the corner of the couch and curling up happily. he walks over a moment later, sitting beside you and rubbing your side and arm.

"hey lovebug," wilbur coos, you lift your head and smile sleepily at him. he pulls you up into his lap, holding you close.

"hi, dada," you whisper, head rested on his shoulder as he rubs your back softly, free hand playing with your hair.

"mark will be here soon, yeah?" he smiles sweetly, rubbing your upper arms as he pulls back to look at you.

he holds you close to him, humming a soft tune as you let the time pass quietly. mark soon rings the doorbell and wilbur greets him before giving him a way too detailed run down, as if he'd never been your sitter before. then, wilbur finally leaves.

he hurries out to the car, heading into town. he had the list pulled up on his phone, ready to have things marked off. he started with the book shop, sifting through the various christmas children books and collecting a few in his arms, checking out and walking next door to the children's shops.

he spends the rest of the next two hours, shopping and gathering things of all kinds. your favorite candies, a blanket, a stuffie or two, books, crayons, etc etc. anything that could make you feel better. and so, after he puts everything in the trunk, he gathers it all up into the basket, making it look all pretty before he tucks it into the passengers seat, making his way home.

while wilbur is driving home, you and Mark are set up on the kitchen floor. he made a little sensory box for you, one that he brought from home. youre playing with the toys, making the dinos fly as mark watches you and cheers you on, making you giggle with every question he has.

"what's this dinos name, little one?" mark coos, holding a blue dino up to you.

you giggle softly, taking the dino and placing it on the top of his head, making it jump around before taking it back and putting it in the box, “bluey,” you hum.

“oh, bluey? that’s a nice name, hm?” you nod at mark’s question, quietly playing in the box that holds sand and rice and an assortment of dino toys.

“when’s daddy gettin home?” you mumble quietly, eyes cast down on the dinos you’re playing with.

mark hums, thinking for a moment before he answers, “soon, hun, promise.”

soon didnt come soon enough for you, waiting not so patiently for wilbur to come home. once you hear the door click open, you jump up and hurry to the door, slinging yourself into his chest. you hug him close, babbling incoherently to him as he hugs you back.

"hey, baby, you okay? you miss me?" he croons, pulling you closer against his chest, his arms wrapped around you. you nod, giggling happily.

"missed you, dada!" you squeal as he moves to pick you up, holding you on his hip as mark cleans up in the kitchen.

"I missed you too baby! how about you settle down here, mkay?" he sets you down on the couch, tucking a blanket over you as he moves into the kitchen.

"were they okay?" wilbur kneels down to help clean up the dino toys and what other things get taken out of the box.

mark smiles and nods, "of course! they missed you though, alot."

wilbur hums, smiling to himself at the thought as he and mark bid goodbyes, mark soon leaving through the front door. you peak up over the back of the couch, arms folded and chin resting atop of them.

he chuckles, walking over to you and kissing your forehead, brushing hair out of your face gently, "hi love, I'm gonna go get something, okay? be a good little love while I'm gone. I'll be right back," he places a lingering kiss to your forehead before he turns to leave out the door. you stay there, watching the door like a puppy. he steps back in a few minutes later, a basket covered with his jacket now clad in his arms.

"close your eyes, bunbun," he smiles widely, and you do as told, giggling softly as you shut your eyes. you feel him sitting down next to you and something wicker being placed in your lap.

"open, love," he smiles as you, watching as you excitedly giggle and look up at him.

“all for me?” you whisper in disbelief, eyes wide with joy as you hold the sides of the basket, waiting for the go ahead.

“mhm, just for you, baby. go on, open it. it’s for our evening,” he smiles a bit softer, hand reaching behind your head to rub your hair as he watches you excitedly unwrap it all. your eyes widening with each thing, giggling and squealing happily with each little gift. once it’s all open, you crawl into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, settling in for a hug.

“thank you, daddy!” you giggle softly, nuzzling your face into his neck as wilbur hugs you close.

“did you like it?” he hums, kissing your temple and cheek as he guides you back so he can look down at your face.

you nod eagerly, “all of it! every bit!” you reach over for the little bunny stuffie he grabbed for you and you show it to him, “it looks like you dada!”

he chuckles, rubbing your cheek and nodding, “oh it does, doesn’t it?” he takes it into his hand, waving it a bit at you as you giggle.

“yeah! ‘s you, dada!”

“well that’s a high compliment, mm?” you nod softly at his words as he hands the bunny back to you, pulling you into his lap as he rubs his thumbs over your soft cheeks, “how does a christmas movie with popcorn and candy and cuddles sound, mm?” his lips curl up in a coy smile, eyes bright with love for you.

you nod in agreement, resting your head on his shoulder as your hands rest on his sides, “mmhm, please?”

he nods, mumbling a quick okay as he kisses your cheek and sets you aside on the couch, “i’m gonna go get stuff from the kitchen, ok? you stay here and rest,” you nod, rubbing your eyes sleepily as you curl up on your side.

he hurries into the kitchen, starting some popcorn as he fills your favorite sippy with some juice, setting that aside as he pours the popcorn in a bowl. he sits beside you, popcorn on the coffee table as he hands you your sippy cup. you hold it, leaning against his side as he sets up a movie, cuddling close with you as you both quietly watch the movie together.

the rest of the evening is spent cuddled up with a christmas movie and candy, no need to talk or chat, and that’s the best part.

#sfw agere #koifics #koimoodboards #wilbur soot #wilbur soot agere #dsmp wilbur agere #cg!wilbur soot #cg!wilbur #cg!wilbur soot x reader #cg!wilbur soot x little!reader #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x reader agere #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot x gn!reader #wilbur soot x gn!reader agere #cg!wilbur soot x gn!little!reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year ago

Text

One Way or Another

Series Masterlist

Warnings: dark elements but nothing too graphic in this one.

Please leave me some feedback either in a reblog or an ask! Likes are always appreciated as well. You know I love yall and hell yeah, you love Professor Steve.

Your last exam is over and you feel a sense of freedom lurking ahead. You can't be certain until you get your grades but with all your effort, you can't imagine you'll fall short. Now you have the whole holiday to recover. Well, you only hope it's refreshing.

Your dorm feels eerily empty so you happily hop at Jensen’s text. He still has a few roommates hanging around so you suggest he comes over. You tidy frantically, trying to hide the remnants of your studious sloth.

When he gets there, you have Netflix mindlessly playing. There's a giddiness to meeting without the lurking stress of classes or exams. No worries, just each other.

You sit on your desk chair as he admires the amiibo collection on your shelf. He sucks his teeth and turns to you with a suspicious leer.

"You didn't tell me had the special edition Link with his mastersword…" he drawls accusatorily.

"Oh, did you ask?" You stick your tongue out.

He rolls his eyes and spins, sitting heavily on your coverlet, the pattern of blue flowers on white, adding an extra dainty effect to your room, a stark contrast to his nerd cave.

"So…" he wiggles his eyebrows as he rubs the bedspread beside him.

"So," you put on a sultry tone and grin, "I thought we could do something special," you stand as seductively as you know how. It feels more awkward than sexy. "A very, very special and intimate thing…"

His eyes round as you come close and put your hands on his shoulders. You feel him tense and flex as you climb onto his lap. You straddle him and run your thumbs along his sideburns. You pull him into a kiss, slipping a taste of your tongue before you part and flutter your lashes.

"Grocery shopping!" You chime and he croaks, stifling a whimper.

"Grocery shopping?" He gulps.

"Uh huh! We can go amd pick out everything we need for or little holiday dinner and then we can come back a play some Mariokart. You said you'd bring your switch right?"

"Mariokart…" he chokes out, shifting under you, hands tentative on your hips.

"And maybe some snuggles," you giggle and lean in, kissing him deeper.

His hand shoot up your back, latching onto your neck as he keeps you from escaping again. He falls back with you but cries out as his teeth sink into your lip. You rip away from him as he touches the back of his skull where he knocked it off the wall.

You dab your lip and laugh, it's painfully fun.

"Hope you don't mind closer quarters," you tease as he pushes himself up.

"With you… the better? Is the shower big?" He winks.

"Alright, alright," you pat his chest and climb off him as you blush, "one thing at a time, let's make a list…"

"Can't we do this tomorrow?"

"The longer we wait, the busier it'll be. And besides, once we're back, I don't wanna go anywhere," you turn back and send him a look, "just you and me Jen. I wanna enjoy every second."

He huffs and clears his throat, shimmying closer to the edge. He tugs at the top of his jeans and you snatch up your phone as he adjusts his perch on the bed. Maybe it is a bit cruel but you can't help but feel flattered by his squirming.

📚

Your cart isn’t full. You don’t have much of a budget to stretch and a very economical list. Boxed stuff and turkey legs instead of the full to-do, some veggies you can manage to cook in your measly collection of pots, some cranberry sauce all for you since Jensen doesn’t enjoy it, and some buns.

“Just need to find the perfect pie,” Jensen says as he leans on the handle of the cart, “cherry?”

“Uh, pumpkin, duh.”

“Pumpkin, really?” He scowls.

“Hey, are you gonna shoot down all my suggestions?”

“Who says we can’t compromise… apple?”

“Fine, apple– oh, I forgot some more tea. I’m out of bags. Why don’t you go get in line and I’ll run to get that.”

“I don’t mind, you know I’ll follow you wherever,” he smirks crookedly.

“As cute as you are, I don’t want the checkout to get any more hectic,” you glance over at the dozen lanes open and binging.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“You can survive without me,” you squeeze his arm, pausing to feel his thick bicep. Oh.

“Went up a weight set,” he gloats as he stands straight and bends his arm to emphasize his muscle, “I’ll let you have a closer look later.”

“Please, tone it down,” you shake your head.

“Says the one feeling me up in the pastry section,” he tuts, “I’ll go and brave the hordes.”

“Right,” you scoff and leave him.

As you turn, you nearly run into another shopper. The place is buzzing with the pre-holiday crowds. You dodge and sneak between two tables of discount sugar cookies.

You head along the dairy section, the refrigeration chilling you through your unzipped jacket, and you weave between carts and bodies. You dip down the coffee section and wait for a couple to move out of the way of the tea. You toe in and peruse the labels, looking for your exact brand and leaf.

You find the tag but the spot is empty. Of course! It’s always gone. You frown and search for an alternative. At the very top shelf, you see the reserves. You peak the purple label of your tea. You just need to reach it.

You stand on your toes and stretch out, leaning to grasp for air. Another hand swoops up and grabs the box with ease. You wince and put your feet flat, glancing over at the helpful stranger as he holds out the tea.

“Thanks, I–”

The box moves out of your reach as you come face to face with Professor Rogers. You take a step back, hitting someone else, only to inch back towards the last person you expected or wanted to see. You almost pout as he gives a thought look to the tea.

“Huh, English Breakfast, I would’ve guessed Earl Grey,” he remarks as his blue eyes flick up.

“Professor,” you utter.

“Got a big dinner planned?” He asks, his tone gristly as his glare bores into you.

“Not really,” you lie and turn back to the shelf, “uh, sorry, I thought… I was just grabbing this.”

You grab the yellow box of cheap orange pekoe but before you can flee, he grips your arm, holding you in place as he leans in. You shudder as his breath fans over you as he bends to nuzzle your hair.

“I know you’re with him. Playing fucking house. Enjoy the game while it lasts,” he growls, “cause I’m not playing any more.”

He lets you go as you tear away from him and you nearly topple over. You sputter and look around for some help. Everyone else is too entranced by their own lists and hunts for the next item.

“Get away,” you hiss.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he mutters under his breath as he drops the box in his basket, “you’re not worth that much trouble. But one day you’ll be alone. Or you’ll think are…”

He slowly pivots and puffs out his chest. He lets out a snicker and you see the flicker in his face, like a shadow passing over. It flies away and he reaches past an older woman to grab the bag of sugar she’s straining for.

“Allow me, miss,” he says to her adoring gaze.

You don’t stick around to see the performance. You know what Professor Rogers is and you know that now that he’s shown you, there’s nothing holding him back.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #drabble #series #au #professor!steve #college au #one #captain america #avengers #mcu #marvel

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philistiniphagottini · 9 months ago

Note

omg hihi u write for like everything im obsessed with ?

could I please request for dante and “holding shopping bags that are too heavy for the other” from the prompt list (fem reader) ? i need to indulge the idea of him spoiling me on a shopping spree as if he doesn’t struggle to keep his lights on lmfaoo im totally soft for the man

tyty! 🫶

Oh my god hi! Thanks for dropping by :) I got so excited when I read this and I literally couldn't help myself and I just had to write. Thanks for the request.

Wordless Ways To Say I Love You

43. holding shopping bags that are too heavy for them

this is the dynamic i picture in this story

Dante wasn’t kidding when he said he would take you on a shopping spree. You recalled his exact words: "Shop until you drop, babe." Well, you certainly felt like dropping. You had been at the shopping mall for several hours, browsing through every shop that even caught a hint of your attention. Your boyfriend was more than happy to encourage you along, spoiling you so rotten that you felt your teeth were going to start falling out with how sugary sweet he has been to you, refusing to let you even pay for your own drink.

A wistful sigh blew past your lips as you exited yet another designer clothes shop for the umpteenth time that day. Your feet were starting to ache from the miles you had been walking around in your shoes and your wrists were begging for relief with the amount of shopping bags you held. Your ears were ringing from the countless noises of voices echoing around the shopping district, throngs of children and adults alike scattered in a sea of bodies surrounding you. For the weekend, the crowd wasn’t that bad. Thankfully, you came at a time when there were no important holidays coming up. You could only imagine the nightmarish hellscape it could turn into.

As you lost yourself in a myriad of your own thoughts, you failed to realise Dante sneaking up to you until his cheery voice broke you out of your stupor. Your shoulders tensed before they relaxed when you recognised his familiar voice cooing in your ear.

"Hey, those look heavy" Dante said. "Let me take them off your hands."

You opened your mouth to reply but all that came out was a mild noise of protest as Dante plucked the shopping bags from your grasp. He already had an armful of other bags yet he didn’t seem the least bit perturbed as he added to the pile bundled in his arms. He got a few, quizzical looks from a couple of bystanders passing by but no one seemed to outright question the ridiculous display of strength that he was currently exhibiting.

"I can carry those myself" you argued, placing an idle hand on your hip.

"That’s okay, I got it babe" Dante replied with a smile.

You shook your head, a fond smile tilting your lips as you did a mental count in your head of all the things you had bought today. You took a few steps away from the entrance of the store, Dante following close behind so he didn’t crowd the exit for other patrons. You tapped your chin in thought as a sigh fell from your parted lips. Maybe you went a little overboard today on the spending. You felt a little bad for spending all of Dante’s money when he barely had any to begin with.

"I’m all shopped out Dante" you said with a decisive nod. "I think its time we head home."

"Are you sure? Didn’t you want to get that cute little necklace you saw a few shops ago? You know, the one that complimented your eyes?"

You blanched at that. How the hell did he know that you had been eyeing it? The only reason you had put it back was because the price tag had just been a tad too expensive. It was one of the only things you had said no to during your shopping trip. You swallowed around the awkward lump in your throat as you shook your head.

"I don’t need it. I’ll live."

A small pout tugged at Dante’s lips. "Aww, come on, don’t be like that. Let me by it for you."

You playfully rolled your eyes. "Dante, no. You’ve spent enough."

"It’s never enough if it’s for you" he chimed in a sickly-sweet voice.

"Do you even have enough to pay your bills this month?"

Dante shrugged his shoulders, jostling the countless amounts of bags he carried. "Eh, probably? That’s not the point. Come on, let me buy it for you~"

You pinched the bridge of your nose. You were going to have to start putting this man on a leash just to have some semblance of control over him. You could tell that he was not going to budge and you both could stand here for literal hours arguing back and forth on why he didn’t need to throw his money at you. You didn’t fall in love with him for that reason and he was well aware of that fact. Dante just liked getting you nice things and seeing the bright, beaming smile on your face. You were worth every cent.

"Please?" Dante tried again. "I promise we’ll go home after that."

You huffed loudly. "You’re a lovesick fool."

Dante smiled as he leaned closer to you, his face hovering only mere inches from yours. His blue eyes sparkled playfully, wisps of his snow-white hair tickling your cheek as he grinned.

"Yeah, but I’m your lovesick fool."

Damn, he’s got you there.

"Come on, give me some sugar."

You playfully swatted his shoulder as you leaned up and planted a chaste kiss on his lips, earning you a mix of disdain and adoration from the people around you who just so happened to look in your direction. You could care less about the onlookers. It felt like they all just had faded in the background and all that mattered was the man standing in front of you. Dante pulled away from your cherry red lips with an infectious smile on his face, the twinkle in his eye only intensifying when a pretty dress caught his attention in the window of a shop.

"Hey, that’d look nice on you, pretty girl. Let me buy it for you."

Your shoulders sagged. You’d be lucky if you made it out of here before dark.

#my writing #devil may cry x reader #dante x reader #fluff prompts #x reader

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bluebayousblog · 1 year ago

Text

RUMOR HAS IT (pt. 7)

(Drew Starkey one-shot)

This is not a full on story but if you want more l'll be happy to add on upon request

Plot: in which drew and isobel address a false rumor in the most abstract of ways

Setting: dinner with the cooper’s and starkey’s

Disclaimer: Isobel is an OC, 18+

TABLE OF CONTENTS:

PART 6

The holidays’ with the Cooper and Starkey family were filled with a multitude of dinners, business events, and surprises that did not seem to dim as the years have passed by. Since Isobel and Drew left for college they made it a tradition to host a dinner in honor of their return from fall semester of school. Each year they alternated hosts, and since Drew’s family hosted last year they were having dinner at Isobel��s.

She loved coming home for the holiday’s and spending time with her parents. Being so far away gave her a lot of opportunity to miss them, and most of the time when her mother, Lora, came up stairs to question her until she worked her way up to asking about a possible boyfriend she didn’t mind, but this year was different and the reason was because of the boy who was downstairs hopefully keeping his cool around their fathers.

“Isobel, I just refuse to believe no man has tried to get your attention at University.” Her mom exasperated, her hands waving in the air with so much sass. She was so animated, something Isobel always found endearing about her. She also has inherited this dramatic characteristic, but it came out most when she was around her, when she was the most comfortable to truly be herself.

She hated how it was inevitable that she was going to have to lie to her mother over the course of the break. Sure, she didn’t have to share all of her personal business with her, but it didn’t make her feel any less guilt for pretending like she wasn’t involved with her father’s business partner’s son. The relationship they had with the Starkey family added a layer of complexity to the entire situation, and only added to her anxiety about the truth coming out.

“I’m not gonna settle for what that school has to offer, Mom.“ Isobel responded. Apart from her dwindling interest in dating since her last relationship, she’d always lived by this sentiment ever since being exposed to what her college had to offer. There were cute guys of course, but none she would enter into a serious relationship with.

Drew did not fall into that category of men that attended her university for a multitude of reasons. She’d known him going on ten years now, he was the son of a very successful man that happened to be in business with her father, and above all else he was a friend—something she was realizing meant much more to her then it did a few weeks ago.

It was an effort to meet her mother’s gaze, but when she did it her eyes were filled with what seemed to be pride. When tears slithered onto her water line she knew her mother was about to start gushing and getting all sentimental as she did every time they were apart, “I just don’t know how I got so lucky to have such a resilient woman as my daughter.”

Isobel’s heart squeezed, her mother always had the ability to appreciate the things about her that truly mattered. She still complimented her beauty more than anyone she knew, but from a young age before she matured physically, she always felt special with what she had to offer internally because of her.

“Mom, I’m the lucky one.” She wrapped her arms around her in a gentle hug, Isobel knew her mom would be the most understanding when it came to finding out about Drew, even if their relationship never progressed past what it was currently, but she also knew it would hurt her to know Isobel felt she couldn’t confide in her. She’d always known Isobel had trouble expressing her feelings, and because of that she never pressured her into it—but still when Lora found out she’d waited weeks to tell anyone she was being cheated on, she held her in her arms so long it made it up for all the time Isobel had spent hurting in silence, “I promise you will be the first to know when there’s another guy.”

Drew had always been in her life, and though he seemed to now view her as more than a friend, that’s all it was at the moment. Lust and pure infatuation. Neither one of them had expressed wanting more, and to Isobel a few hookups was not worth spilling the beans to her family or friends—especially with his past. She’d already been the girl who was blindly cheated on, and she did not want to be viewed as just another one of Drew’s conquests. She knew she wouldn’t be able to take the pity this time because she knows what she is getting herself into and how it could potentially end—and to Isobel that was far worse.

“You only tell me when you’re ready.” Her mother stated, sighing before standing to walk into her closet to fetch the dresses she purchased for her to wear to different occasions over break. Isobel knew she was spoiled, but her mother took pride in refreshing her closet when she was away, and if she objected she would only be ignored, “Okay, my darling girl black satin or white satin with pearls.”

The emphasis on the last option told her which dress her mother was leaning towards, “Mom, I’m twenty-two I can dress myself.”

“I know you can, but let me have my fun during the holidays, this was my favorite thing to do when you were a little girl.” She gave Isobel the the widest smile, one that she passed down to her, raising the white dress up higher in the air now completely revealing her preference of the two choices.

Isobel playfully rolled her eyes with a sigh before taking the hangers from her hands and slipping in the bathroom to get ready.

Drew’s parents and brother were on the way when he went into one of the guest rooms of what had practically been his second home for the last decade. He packed a suit so he could just get ready and save the hassle of driving to his house and back.

Clad in a casual dinner attire, black slacks and a green button up with no tie, he stepped out of the room he’d spent so many nights in. As soon as the door latched shut his father’s voice could be heard from the formal den where they always had cocktails before dinner, “…everything is set up for him, let’s just hope he doesn’t go back on his word in the next five months.”

He knew his father was talking about him and the job offer that had been waiting for Drew ever since he walked across that stage at his high school graduation. He’d been allowed a grace period before he accepted his fate, in which he tried to find different passions in college but nothing ever stuck—everything led back to Cooper & Starkey Inc. Charles Starkey didn’t like Drew’s hesitation in joining the family business, he’d always made that known, especially in the last four years, and when he wasn’t verbalizing it you could see the disapproval set deep in his eyes. He still had a great relationship with his father, but he hated how the topic of Drew’s future could so easily damper their bond.

“Well isn’t it the man of the hour, Drew.” Richard Cooper’s deep voice barreled through the room, a smile spread across his lips that reminded him of the girl that had been clawing at his mind for the past few weeks.

Drew greeted him with a handshake, to which the massive man yanked his arm and pulled him into a hug. They patted each other on the back as men tended to do, and Drew once again found himself wondering how Richard found himself in finance when he looked like a competing body builder. He’d always reminded him of Mr. Bubbles from Lilo & Stitch, it was his first impression of him that first day he came over to meet with his father to start their company. He always appreciated that Richard never pressured him into making a decision about the job offer, though he wasn’t his father, they were so close that his opinion did mean something. And those days when Charles was coming down on him about procrastinating, Richard simply telling Drew to take his time meant more than he knew.

“How are you, Cooper?” Drew smiled as they pulled away and sighed in amusement when he began dramatically inspecting him for anything out of place as he always did. Richard always thought that Mr. Cooper was too formal for how much time their families spent with each other, so they settled on Drew just calling him Cooper years ago. His eye twitched at the idea of him somehow picking up that he’d been messing around with his daughter just from the simple once over.

“I trust you got Isobel home without any issues.” His father interjected completely killing the moment—just as he was serious about the company he had the same attitude toward’s Richard’s daughter, especially if Drew had anything to do with her. He swiftly stood up from the sofa and walking over towards them with his younger brother Chandler following behind. Charles also looked extremely well for his age, not as built as Cooper but still youthful nonetheless.

Chandler’s eyes brightened at the mentioning of Isobel and it took all of Drew’s restraint not to visibly show his annoyance at how pathetic his little brother’s crush on her was. It started two years ago when he turned sixteen, they were all home for the summer in the back by the family pool when Isobel showed up in a little black bikini that would push him over the edge if he ever saw her in it now. But it was his little brother who’d taken a long, thorough look at Isobel and hadn’t been the same since. Everytime she was around Chandler’s face turned entirely red while his mouth was hindered useless in her presence.

Everyone found his little crush endearing and harmless, she was obviously older so nothing would ever come out of it—and it definitely was not reciprocated on her end. The entire family teased Chandler about it, but now that he was maturing and graduating high school this year Drew hoped his infatuation for her would die down a bit. He found it pathetic to be in a situation where he was jealous of his little brother crushing on the girl he was hooking up with, though the fact that he saw Isobel in a romantic aspect before he ever did was at the very forefront of his mind.

Drew had gotten to her first in a physical way, but actually noticing her for all she was and the little things that really mattered—he’d came up short—and that made him feel like the biggest fool.

“Relax, Charles, she’s upstairs in her room with Lora getting ready.” Cooper cracked a smile at how unnecessarily serious Drew’s father could get. His father just shrugged his shoulder’s as if he were saying ‘can you blame me for asking?’

The boy ignored his old man, taking a sip of his whiskey to simmer the annoyance rumbling in his chest, he knew he could be unreliable, but if there was a thing they could trust him with it was Isobel. “How’s it going, kid?” Drew asked Chandler, who always seemed to be on their dad’s good side.

“Everything’s good, it’ll be even better soon.” He gave Drew a lopsided grin, his eyes stuck on the entrance to the den, obviously anticipating someone’s arrival.

Cooper and his father had broken off into their own conversation near the bar, so Drew decided to mess with Chandler a little before everyone came down, “You know you’re eighteen now, don’t you think it’s about time you stop obsessing over the girl?”

“I actually think the opposite, that just means I’m now man enough to handle a woman that fine.” Chandler finally settled his sole attention on Drew, most likely just interested in the subject of the conversation, “You do know she is a woman right, Drew?”

He knew Chandler wasn’t referring to Isobel’s age, but his obvious blindness towards her. All the time they’d all spent together, and Drew had never shown any attraction towards her. It had never been a thought between the families, no encouragement for the two to date—if anything his father subliminally insisted on the exact opposite.

He was always content with their lack of interest in their relationship, especially with going to a prestigious high school where teenagers were being coerced into modern day arranged relationships like it was a sport. Now thinking back it would’ve felt nice if their family felt he was suited to to take care of Isobel, because the way his head was turning now it would be his absolute honor. Though, he couldn’t blame them for never seeing the stability in a potential relationship between Drew and Isobel. Not once had he shown them an instance where he could be man enough to be a good boyfriend to a woman, let alone to their precious gem. They didn’t deem him worthy of possessing such treasure, as he wasn’t sure he was either.

He’d shown he could protect Isobel but not love her the way she deserved to be loved.

“That girl is so gorgeous, Richard, you and Lora created an angel.” His mother’s velvety voice flowed into the room before he could respond to his brother whose attention was now back on the entrance where Lora and his mom, Catherine stood, “Drew, baby, come give your mommy a hug my little bear.”

Drew immediately walked over despite his head hanging low, ears burning in embarrassment at the nickname she insisted using at all times. He loved her regardless of the various endearments because where his father put fear of him being a disappointment she always made up for, “I missed you Mom.”

The way that his mom loved him made him feel like he was capable of spreading that same feeling to someone else, because if he could love his mom that much he could definitely love another woman just as effortlessly. When they finally pulled apart she grabbed his face in admiration before quickly falling back into conversation with Lora about whatever they’d been doing upstairs with Isobel.

“Get all your compliments out about Isobel before she comes down, you know she hates being the center of attention.” Lora softly smiled, they were both extremely reserved at times, and for a split second Drew saw an uncanny glimpse of Isobel in her. Of course they’d always reminded him of each other but now seeing the similarities left more of meaningful impression.

“I find that extremely ironic seeing as she’s always the last person to be ready.” Cooper’s humor pulled a laugh out of everyone in the room as it always did.

He could put a smile on everyone’s face even when it wasn’t his intent, it made him all the more likable to more than just their family, and Drew wondered if a man like Cooper would approve of him being with his daughter.

“Let’s have another drink before the princess gets her hand’s on the champagne.” Even her parents knew about her tendency to be a lightweight. Isobel had accidentally over served herself, and by over served that just meant having two glasses of champagne one night at a business event their father’s hosted after she turned twenty one. Drew tried to keep her intoxicated state under wraps, but when she got up to go to the restroom and knocked over the welcome sign it was no use. No one took it too seriously if anything it made the night that much more enjoyable, that’s what he enjoyed about his family when they were surrounded by the Cooper’s, everything felt so much lighter.

It was similar to how he felt these past three weeks with Isobel, and it was nothing like he felt before.

“What are you all laughing about?” Isobel suddenly graced the room with effortless strides.

She was wearing a silky black dress that adorned her body in a way that made Drew’s stomach twist in a knot and heart squeeze in his chest. He knew from the sight of the bronze gleam on her naked shoulders that she smelled divine and his nose itched to smell her intoxicating scent. Her hair was pulled from her face, falling behind her back with the tips most likely grazing the top of her backside. He’d noticed that about her the other night at his party, how her hair swayed just above her ass in a tempting gesture as she walked away from him to leave the house and take the girls to the bar.

“Nothing to worry your head about my girl.” Cooper answered as he stared at her with evident pride in his eyes saving her the embarrassment of bringing up her little drunken indiscretion.

It always baffled Drew how Isobel could walk into a room like she didn’t have the ability to steal everyone’s very last breathe from their lungs. Always so coy and oblivious to how much of a force she truly was.

Cooper referred to Drew as the man of the hour, but the only way to appropriately describe Isobel in this moment was as the woman of the entire century.

“I hate to admit it but she’s always had better taste than me.” He heard Lora mumbling to his mother and he smiled knowing they’d been up there trying to dress her up. “Stop that Lora, the white dress will be perfect for the cocktail tomorrow night.” his mom comforted her friend.

He forced himself to look away from Isobel before he did something she would deem obvious to their situation, looking over to see Chandler’s face red with heat as expected, his blue eyes wide with awe, “Think you’ll be able to actually form a sentence for her this time Chan?”

Isobel rushed to to hug everyone, she genuinely missed every person in his room while she was away and the time it took to get through all of them said as much. Chandler cheeks bloomed as he shyly wrapped his arms around her, giving her a simple wave and a quiet ‘hi’ when she pulled away, and she couldn’t help but giggle to herself as she turned towards Charles to greet her second favorite man.

She saved Drew for last and as she approached him bearing a suit on his lean body it dawned on her it probably would’ve of been easier to just get him out of the way first because she knew no matter how short she was in his embrace it would leave lasting effects on her body long after. She moved towards him before she could overthink and draw more attention. She all but tripped into his arms, Drew catching her body so swiftly no one seemed to notice her little stumble.

“Careful there, Is.” Drew whispered while his hands held her waist, but for her that may as well have been a sound bath as the words caused the deepest vibration to rumbled out out of his chest right against hers.

She turned her head and placed her ear on his chest as he squeezed her in a comfortable grip, when she heard the steady pattern of his heart beat she wondered if he could feel her’s erratically beating in her chest. She didn’t relax in his arms, she couldn’t or she would melt. The material of her dress was thin, and right now every part of his body and stitch of his suit felt like it was pressing against the entirety of the front of her. She felt both of their hearts pumping when she heard the intake of breathe from above her head, knowing he was smelling her and as weird as it may seem it only made heat rush down her spine. Her fingers gripped the back of his suit tightly, and just as she began to melt and Drew started to release a shaky exhale, he stepped away.

She quickly sobered, Drew standing behind her as she turned towards everyone. They had a three second hug filled with what felt like an eternity of emotions, and needed to pretend like it was nothing.

“Would you like anything to drink tonight before we go into the dining room, Honey?” Isobel’s mother asked while walking over to the counter to refresh her drink.

Alcohol would definitely ease her nerves and slow the blood that was rushing to her heart from that hug, but under these circumstances she knew it wasn’t in her best interest. She quickly glanced at Drew who was staring blankly into his glass before she turned back to her mother, “No, I’m not drinking tonight.”

Everyone proceeded to burst into laughter from all around the room and Isobel’s cheeks flushed, now more than aware of what they were talking about before she came into the den, “You guys are annoying.” She groaned before walking out of the room to the dining area, her hair swaying just as he expected.

Drew stood there amused as everyone fell in step behind her, Cooper and Lora apologizing to her with giggles spilling out after each word.

“Drew and I will join everyone shortly, don’t wait up.” His father stated, catching Drew off guard as he twisted to face him with furrowed brows. He really wasn’t in the mood for a ‘talk’ with his father that would ultimately end in both of their moods being ruined.

When he saw the pointed look on his face he relented and walked over to the sofa.

“I’m really proud of you, son.” His father’s words came off as genuine as he topped off Drew’s whiskey. Drew wanted to fully appreciate this moment, but the alcohol signified something was looming.

“Thanks, Dad.” He smiled, the two tilting their glasses as he sat adjacent to him on the feathered filled cushions.

His father sat silently, but his eyes said a thousand things as they studied him. He didn’t want to fidget under his gaze, he just wanted to sit comfortably with his dad without judgement coming from him. Drew hated how he had become used to their conversations turning sour to the point where he was bracing himself for it.

Cooper’s hearty laughter bellowed into the room from the dining area and as if on cue his father spoke, “I really am pleased that you accepted the job offer, all I ever wanted was for you to be apart of the company with us.”

In all honesty Drew had done everything he could to avoid working in the family industry. Looking back he wasn’t so sure why he’d been so adverse to the idea. It could’ve been the silver spoon he had in his mouth since he was a young boy or he could attribute it all to just plain boyish immaturity. But now with graduation a semester away it seemed like the only thing that made sense in this impending period of change. It was the same calming feeling he got the first time he kissed Isobel, as soon as he did it the feeling of facing the effects of their actions the next day didn’t scare him.

And now that two weeks had passed each intimate moment between them made him a little bit more accepting of the future.

“Yeah, it felt nice to take that next step, I’m looking forward to it.” He truthfully spoke, though he could relate his sentiments to more than just the job. As messy as getting involved with Isobel was he would never go back, it was a risk he was willing to take. He went with a curious feeling in his gut, and the more that feeling developed the more it felt like a sure thing.

Charles pulled him into a hug and in this moment Drew felt fulfilled, for once he felt like he’d made the right choice. Although, his father words from earlier rang in his ears.

Let’s just hope he doesn’t go back on his word in the next five months.

Then suddenly Isobel’s giggle flowing in the air as it traveled down the hall pulled him out of his thoughts before he spiraled in a fit of self doubt. He needed to exceed his father’s expectations but on his own terms because at the end of the day it was what Drew wanted that mattered.

“I hope nothing is happening that will jeopardize your transition to C&S, Drew.” Charles expressed after pulling away, a layer of animosity stitched within his tone.

Drew knew better than to react, he needed to tread lightly because he knew how his father moved when he was trying to get information out of him. He didn’t know exactly what he was getting at, but he didn’t want to give anything away before he could find out, “Dad I’m committed to the company you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Good because otherwise I’d advise you to end whatever could affect that.” He spoke hypothetically, but the the look in his eyes held exactly what Isobel was trying to avoid. She would have a freak out if she knew this conversation was going on. Or was he just being paranoid? “I’m positive it won’t come to that.” Drew reassured him then knocked back the rest of his drink, making the lie all the more bitter on his tongue.

Charles got up with a laugh and glanced at Drew, shaking his head in amusement at whatever was going on in that wandering mind of his, ��You’re really quick with your hands you know, but that’s what I should expect after all those years of baseball right?”

His father again chuckled to himself at his own words. Drew had felt a a number of things during that short hug with Isobel, and he was sure she did too—like a mutual feeling between the two that they kept to themselves. Though it only took Isobel’s tiny stumble and him catching her to raise his father’s suspicions.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

PART EIGHT

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trensu · 1 year ago

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I set myself a goal to have this fic finished and postedon ao3 by Halloween. As you can tell, I have failed miserably since it's neither finished or posted. In my defense, my hands were in much more pain than usual for most of October and so far November's not looking so great either.

Still, I feel kind of shitty about missing my goal, so I decided to post the first couple of scenes here. This fic is part of the Hawkins Halfway House series and we'll be meeting Billy in it. Enjoy!

Eddie was enjoying a quiet, little Horrors-free day with House. He’d dropped off Max and the Sinclair siblings with Steve in the morning since they hadn’t been able to hang out with Dustin and El for longer than any of the little Horrors deemed acceptable. El had been living with Steve for about a year now, and Dustin nearly twice that long. The transition hadn’t been as painful as expected but the kids were not used to being apart from each other, so an arrangement was reached that every other weekend, the kids could spend the night together either at House or at Junior.

This weekend, the kids had opted to stay at Junior with Steve. Depending on how things went, they might stay longer seeing as the kids were on some extended human holiday weekend as of the night before. If that happened, then Eddie planned on having some slow lazy mornings. However, it was now past lunchtime and he really needed to restock their stores of red meat, thanks to the pair of werewolf cubs in his care. He had very quickly become the local butcher’s favorite customer because of them.

Eddie had just about convinced himself to get going and be a responsible adult when the phone rang. Eddie made his way over to where House decided to keep the phone hooked up this week. He leaned against the wall, already fiddling with the phone cord, as he answered.

“Hawkins Halfway–”

“EDDIE,” Dustin screeched over the phone. “You have to come over right now. Steve is DYING.”

“What?” Eddie asked, bolting upright from where he had slouched. He heard the voices of the other kids over the line.

“He is bleeding. Blood should stay inside humans,” El said seriously.

“Bleeding? Where? What happened?” Eddie asked, resting the phone between his shoulder and ear to free up his hands. He got a bit tangled in the cord in his hurried searching of his pockets for his keys.

“Guys,” Steve’s voice broke through. “Guys, I’m fine. Oh god, Dustin, who are you calling? What did I say about using the phone? Junior, what did I tell you about letting the kids use the phone?”

“This IS an emergency!” Dustin protested, loudly.

“There’s so much blood,” Lucas could be heard in the background. “It’s like that time I ate a rabbit just before the moon set.”

“See, Eddie? HE’S DYING!” Dustin shouted directly into the receiver.

“You called Eddie? Dustin, give me the phone,” Steve said. After a brief scuffle, and what sounded like the handset being dropped to the ground only to get hastily picked up, Steve was speaking directly. His voice sounded funny. “Eddie, hi!”

“What happened? Dustin thinks you’re dying,” Eddie said.

“I’m fine! Nobody’s dying,” Steve said. Then, presumably to the kids, “Give me some room, I don’t want to drip on any of you.”

“Steve, are you bleeding?” Eddie asked, his worry mixing with irritation.

“Yeah, but I’m okay. It’s a bloody nose,” Steve said, which explained why he sounded weird.

“And a bloody mouth,” Lucas added.

“His eye’s busted up, too!” Erica said loud enough for Eddie to hear.

“Yes, thank you for that,” Steve said to the kids in that bitchy tone Eddie secretly enjoyed hearing. “Go watch some TV while I talk to Eddie. I promise I won’t fall over dead.”

“I’m coming over,” Eddie decided out loud.

“You don’t have to, honestly, the kids are freaking out over nothing,” Steve insisted.

“You’re due for a home inspection anyway. See you in ten.”

Eddie hung up before Steve could protest.

–

Eddie didn’t have a chance to knock on the door before it slammed open and he was swarmed by the kids.

“He’s in the kitchen,” Lucas told him.

“We couldn’t remember how much blood humans are supposed to keep inside,” El said.

“Yeah, so Dustin freaked out,” Erica snorted derisively.

Dustin started to argue that his concern was legitimate, but Eddie pushed past all of them to get to the kitchen. There, Eddie nearly swallowed his tongue because Steve was indeed in the kitchen. Shirtless. And bent over the sink. The steam rising from the running water dampened his chest hair and made his skin dewy. The muscles in Steve’s arms flexed distractingly as he scrubbed almost violently at a bloodied shirt.

Eddie didn’t have much time to enjoy the view because as soon as he finished processing the vision, he caught sight of Steve’s face. He immediately understood why the children panicked. Steve’s face was a mess. Steve had done his best to clean up most of the blood, but his nostrils were still rimmed with some, and the split lip started to bleed again when Steve looked up at Eddie. The skin around his eye was puffy and bruised.

“It looks worse than it is,” Steve said immediately. “No concussion!”

Eddie covered the distance in a few long strides. He reflexively reached out to touch Steve’s face, then pulled back when he realized what he’d been about to do. Eddie had been adamantly ignoring the small crush he was harboring for his kids’ foster parent. Unfortunately, it meant he had to forcibly ignore opportunities to touch Steve as much as possible. In this case, it resulted in Eddie fluttering his hands uselessly around Steve.

“What happened?”

“First, you should know that I handled it and I was already planning on calling you to give you a rundown of the situation. I wanted to clean myself up a bit before calling but that didn’t go as planned, obviously.”

“Steve.”

“I’m fine, really. I’m more worried about Max.” At Steve’s words, Eddie’s whole body tensed.

“What happened to Max?” Eddie asked before it occurred to him, “She wasn’t with the other kids. Where is she?”

“She ran to her room as soon as we got home. She’s kind of shaken up. I haven’t had the chance to talk to her about what happened because the others saw me and were freaking out the whole ride home.”

“I can talk to her,” Eddie said immediately. Steve nodded as if he hadn’t expected anything different, and began to explain what happened.

“I took the kids to the park nearby to burn off some energy before dinner,” Steve said. “Max stayed in the parking lot because she wanted to practice using her skateboard.”

While Steve spoke, Eddie maneuvered himself around the familiar kitchen. He grabbed a clean kitchen towel and dug out an icepack from the freezer. After wrapping it up, he handed it to Steve, who delicately placed it over his eye.

Steve continued to explain how he made sure he settled in a spot that would give him a good view of both the parking lot and the playground. Everything had been going well. All the kids were having fun, although Max had tumbled a couple of times while trying to find her balance on the skateboard. Then Steve had been distracted.

Erica had gotten a bit too into a game of chase. She had started to get a little wolfy around the edges. Lucas had immediately shielded her from view by throwing his hoodie at her face. Steve guided her a farther away from the playground to somewhere more quiet and secluded to give her a moment to calm down. Once she had collected herself, she and Steve rejoined everyone at the playground. Steve had given the playground a quick lookover to make sure everyone was still accounted for, but when he’d looked for Max over at the parking lot, a man was with her.

Steve had been too far away to hear what the man was saying, but the man was way too close to her. Max had frozen in place. If the unknown man approaching her hadn’t been alarming enough, seeing her freeze like that set off all sorts of bells. While Max wasn’t Steve’s foster kid, he knew her well enough by now to know that, when cornered, Max's first instinct was to fight, not flee or freeze.

“I ran over there as soon as I saw what was happening,” Steve told Eddie, as if Eddie would ever doubt him. Steve had a protective streak to rival a werewolf. “By the time I got to them, he had grabbed her by the arm.”

Steve had shoved the man away from her the moment he had gotten within reach. From there it had devolved into a fistfight that left Steve in his current state. Thankfully the other kids were too wrapped up in their playground games to realize what was happening at the time but one of the other parents at the playground had seen and used the nearby payphone to call the police. The cops showed up to break up the fight. As far as Steve was aware, the man who had grabbed Max was taken away by the cops. They took some statements from witnesses, but Steve, to Eddie’s utter lack of surprise, insisted on going home with his kids rather than going down to the station.

Eddie was grateful for that. He had seen how cops treat people they consider less than human, even when they didn't have an ounce of supernatural blood in them. Little Horrors in distress were not always great at keeping their human faces on.

Once Steve finished updating Eddie, he went to reassure the other kids while Eddie made his way to see Max. Eddie had barely stepped into the guest room Junior had made for Max before Max shot to her feet. She was very pale, made even more apparent by the dark red feathers that had sprouted through her hair and along her face. Her hands were rough and clawed.

“He found me,” Max said. “Billy found me. He tried to take me away.”

Eddie swore under his breath. It was just as he had suspected. He didn't think the cops would hold Billy for very long. He had to start planning a defense but first, he wanted to comfort Max, offer some reassurance. He stepped closer to her but slowed his movements at Max’s flinch. Instead, he redirected and leaned against the dresser close to Max. Her jaw was tense. She crossed her arms, clutching at her elbows.

“But he didn’t,” Eddie said firmly. “You’re still here. Steve stopped him and you’re safe.”

Max’s breath hitched.

“Is…is Steve mad at me?” Her claws dug into fabric at the elbows of her hoodie, nervously shredding it. “I have my backpack in the closet. I can leave. If he’s mad.”

“What? No, no, no, Max, Steve’s not mad at you. He’s worried, but he’d never get mad at you for something like this.”

Her voice dropped to a shamed whisper.

“But Billy hurt him so bad. He broke Steve’s face,” her breath hitched again, but she had yet to break into tears. It hurt Eddie to see her try so hard to keep it together. “It's all my fault, he’s going to be so mad.”

“Max Mayfield, listen to me,” Eddie said fiercely. “None of this is your fault. This is all on that hunter. Steve doesn’t blame you and he’s not mad at you.”

She gnawed at her lip, eyes cast down. She didn't believe him, he could tell.

"Billy's going to come back. He’ll hurt Steve again," Max said.

"If that happens, and I'm not saying it will!" Eddie said. Though he knew she was right about Billy. Billy was a stubborn, possessive, and angry man. "But if it does, it still wouldn't be your fault. He's a grown up making his own awful decisions, okay?"

"Okay," she said despondently, though she no longer sounded like she would break into tears.

"I need to let Steve know what to expect but he'll probably come up here after to check on you if you're okay with it."

Max nodded jerkily, not looking at him. Eddie suppressed a sigh. Max had been making so much progress, opening herself up more to others and getting attached to things that interested her. If Eddie hadn’t hated Billy already, the sight Max retreating into herself again because of his reappearance would’ve done it.

"Do you want to be alone? Or do you want some of your friends up here with you?" Eddie asked.

Max shrugged. Eddie glanced over at the unmade bed. The underneath looked darker than it probably should be. He smiled tentatively at Max.

"I think El is already under the bed, so if you want to be alone…"

An oozing black tendril squirmed out from underneath the bed to wrap gently around Max's ankle. Some of the stress that pinched Max’s expression eased at the touch. She easily dropped to the ground and scooched into the cramped space beneath the bed.

“You are safe, Max,” El’s voice hissed from the dark space.

Eddie left the room and closed the door quietly behind him. It was time to fill Steve in on some things he had hoped would never come up.

#trensu tells stories #hawkins halfway house for homeless horrors #i wanna say I'm about halfway done with the fic #but since my job has me typing 8hrs a day 5 days a week #ive stopped typing at all when off the clock in the hopes that the brief respite will give my hands some time to recover #they haven't hurt this bad in a LONG time and idk what's triggered it #but as soon as im physically able ill writing finish this fic and post it on ao3 #stranger things #steddie #hhh: tradition

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izzielizzie93 · 2 years ago

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High School Sweethearts Part 2-J Burrow

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

College! Joe Burrow x Reader

Summary: There's nothing like coming home for the holidays

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: None, some angst and fluff

This one is long & there will definitely be a part 3! Thank you to everyone who liked, shared, and commented on part 1 :)

-------

I’d be lying if I said moving to Baton Rouge was an easy decision; but I would also be lying if I said it didn’t feel right the moment I stepped into my dorm. I had gone earlier than most; because on top of becoming a Tiger, I had also made the LSU cheer team.

I ended up waiting a day to respond to Joe’s text, choosing to send an emoji of a Tiger and a thumbs up in lieu of actually having the courage to say anything else.

I unblocked him on everything and added him back as a friend shortly before graduation. We both knew we were mutuals again; but he never liked my new posts. It was morbid curiosity that had me scouring his Instagram and being pathetic when asking friends if he posted on snap.

I mostly did this late at night when I couldn’t sleep, afraid of my dreams. Sometimes I’d wake up after dreaming that Joe hated that I’d followed him to Ohio State and it would end with him breaking up with me and asking me to transer. Other times we’d be happy together and he’d be telling me he couldn’t wait to marry me after graduation.

Both dreams felt equally horrible when I woke up in my cold dorm, hundreds of miles away from him.

Eventually, the dreams subsided as fall term began and life got hectic just as I’d predicted it would. I grew very close with two fellow cheerleaders, Sasha and Emily, and they were great distractions.

Of course, I’d gotten drunk about a month into school starting and spilled everything to them. I had opened up about some details of my life; but always stopped myself because it felt too personal to share with people I’d only known for a couple of months.

Luckily, my word vomit didn’t scare them off and they helped me stop with my frantic scrolling of Joe’s pages and they even came over and stayed the night when I felt I was going to have bad dreams.

—

In the month leading up to break, I had been dreading going home. I was hoping everyday that LSU would have a bowl game that weekend; but it was scheduled for the week after and we were all cleared to go home for break.

I’d fallen back into the habit of stalking Joe online and nothing seemed to point toward any new girlfriends; but I still hurt my own feelings each time I clicked on his page.

“So, Y/N are you excited to be going home for Thanksgiving?” Emily asked as she sat on my bed, watching me pack. “Absolutely, I already have friends texting me trying to make plans for every second and I know my mom is going to protest and want to keep me home.” I felt myself smiling at the thought of being with everyone again.

“What about-” I turned to glare at her before she finished her sentence. “I mean you know he’ll be there. You might see him.” Sasha piped up from her own side of the dorm. While I was happy that Sasha had become my roommate after the summer, there were times where I wish she hadn’t.

“I know and I plan on being cordial. I’m going to treat him like an acquaintance and avoid him as much as possible.” I shrugged. Sasha and Emily shared a look and I did my best to ignore them before excusing myself to take a long shower, hoping Sasha would be in bed and Emily would be gone when I got back.

—

Despite burying myself in schoolwork, the day to leave for Ohio felt like it came too quickly. I was doing my best to stay positive and remind myself that I didn’t need to worry about Joe, I had so many people I wanted to see.

Once I’d landed and spotted my parents waiting for me, all thoughts of Joe left my mind. Seeing my mom cry wasn’t anything new; but seeing my dad tear up had me crying.

They peppered me with questions the entire drive home and wanted to know everything about school, cheer, and my friends. I’d kept my mom in the loop, talking to her on the phone every week; but it wasn’t the same as being there. She and my dad had tickets to fly back with me and take a vacation in New Orleans before coming to see LSU play.

—

Avoiding Joe was easy for the first few days of the trip; but then I was invited to a Bonfire party out at Oakley’s Ranch. Everyone who was home for the holidays, and those who’d never left, were going to be there and I didn’t want to miss out.

“Wow, Joe is going to go insane when he sees you.” My friend Sarah gasped when I walked out to her car. “Shut up, this isn’t for him.” I glared, getting in. She rolled her eyes, knowing I was lying through my teeth. I did want Joe to see me and not be able to find a good reason why he ever let me go.

I had on black jeans that hugged me in all of the right places, a black spaghetti strap crop top with a v neckline, black thigh high boots that I’d stolen from Sasha, and a bright red leather jacket. I’d curled my hair and done a smokey makeup look to match my dark aesthetic and I had on a bold red lip color.

“Is that Joe’s favorite perfume?” My friend Kasey smirked as she got into the car next. After what felt like the longest car ride ever, the taunting ended as we pulled up next to the all too familiar Oakely barn.

—

A couple of hours had passed and I was happily buzzing, dancing and singing along to songs with friends I hadn’t seen in months.

I was so into dancing that I didn’t see a certain blonde haired blue eyed man walk in; but he saw me. “Holy shit, Joe is staring so hard.” Sarah slurred, pulling me in close. I let my eyes wander and I smirked when I caught Joe’s eye.

I downed the rest of my drink and excused myself to go outside to get air. I walked once around the barn and on my second trip, Joe was leaning against one of the walls. As I was about to pass him, he reached out and grabbed my hand, pulling me toward him.

Despite being in heels, I still had to look up as his 6”4 figure dwarfed me. “Can I help you with something?” I asked. His eyes bore into mine before he leaned down and pressed a hard kiss to my lips.

---

@lh4455 @dessxoxsworld

#joe burrow #joe burrow fan fic #joeburrow x reader #joe burrow fluff #Joe burow lsu #Joe burrow angst

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wordynerdygurl · 2 years ago

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Two Sizes Too Small

Author’s Note: Well, lovelies, I pulled an all-nighter to finish this one. I just really wanted to give Eddie Munson a wonderful Christmas. That it involves love and my favorite holiday movie, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, well, how could I resist? Full disclosure- there’s a lot of holiday movie and music references! Also, my taglist is open, so let me know if you’d like to be added! Lastly, I hope everyone has a lovely and restful holiday season!! Pairing: Plus Size Female Reader x Eddie Munson

Summary: Eddie hates Christmas, the whole Christmas season, and maybe his heart is too small but it’s Christmas and miracles can happen at the holidays!

Warnings: SMUT, a touch of dubcon in the beginning, and also some angsty pining!

If it weren’t for Wayne, Eddie would have given up on Christmas a long time ago.

Around the time when he realized that Santa was his uncle scraping up extra change to ensure that there was something for him to open under the tree, Eddie’s heart had hardened against the holiday. Wayne already did so much: working double shifts, making sure that Eddie had food, clothes and a safe way to get to school each day. Why add to that burden with a day set aside for the sole purpose of spending money on stuff that no one really needed? Oh, he’d heard the arguments about showing people how much you cared this time of year. That the depth of someone’s feelings was greater than or equal to the quality of whatever sweater, baseball cap or new crock pot could be wrapped in pretty paper with a ribbon slapped on top. In his opinion that was a shitty system for communicating how much you appreciate someone, not to mention it only happened once a year.

There was no question in Eddie Munson’s mind that Wayne loved him. He didn’t need a stocking full of candy or a gift boxed t-shirt to show him what he already knew to be true. So, why make a big deal about it? It was just another day on the calendar.

Regrettably, his sentiments weren’t shared with, well, anyone else. All of the people around Eddie, his uncle especially, seemed to go Christmas Crazy. Shopping all the time, planning events and scheduling parties, worrying about what to buy everyone and where to get the best sale price. It didn’t make sense to him. The decorations, the lights, the ornaments, all of it was sentimental in a way that Eddie just couldn’t abide, “What’s the point? You’re just gonna pull all this shit down in a week.” Not dissuaded, Wayne snorts indignantly, digging through a dusty box marked X-MAS, “The point is, I like it. The point is, it reminds me of when you were an excited kid who liked the simple things in life. Things like bikes and blocks and crayons, not girls and drinking and rock music.” “Ok, ok, you made your point.” Eddie concedes, helping to tape a strand of red tinsel garland along the shelf of mugs which had all been gifts to uncle over the years. Wayne stoops low, child-like glee on his face, as he readies to plug in the light strand, “Ready for the tree?” It was like this every year and Eddie nods, ready to get this part over with, faking his way through Wayne’s Christmas crankiness. With a snap of electricity, the three foot artificial tree lights up. It’s filled with paper Santas scribbled in red marker, macaroni stars and once glitter covered foam gingerbread men. It is an annual homage to Eddie as a kid and Wayne adores it. Despite the grumbling from his nephew, Wayne refuses to give it up, at least, not without a serious fight. Unimpressed, Eddie drones, “Very nice. I like how you managed to keep all the ugly ornaments facing the window. The neighbors are gonna love ‘em.” Incredulous, Wayne scoffs at his semi-scowling nephew, “They should! I’m damned proud to have them.” A heavy wave of nostalgia falls over the old man, making his proud chin quiver with unspoken words of affection for the little boy turned man standing in front of him. Eddie hears the dip in his uncle’s voice, recognizing his yearly Christmas melancholy from a mile away. What was it about this time of year that made everyone go a little nuttier than usual? Was it the weather? The food? Or just the expectations that the holiday season seemed to carry? Screw that. Eddie wasn’t going to give into the commercialized crap that seems to sweep everyone else along in December. Christmas was for suckers and Eddie Munson was nobody’s fool. Well, almost nobody’s fool.

His hand lands on Wayne’s shoulder, going for fondness while ignoring the emotions playing out behind his uncle’s faded eyes. Softening a bit, Eddie offers an olive branch, “Wanna get drunk and watch White Christmas? I had Steve snag it for me.” Patting at his damp cheeks, Wayne nods happily, sappily, “That sounds great-” The phone trills shrilly, cutting through their conversation and Wayne lifts his eyebrows in Eddie’s direction. But his nephew shakes his head. “Ignore it. I’m exactly where I want to be.” Whoever was looking to score was gonna have to call back. Three rings later and Wayne is practically shoving Eddie towards the receiver, “Just answer the damn thing!” Grumpy and gruff, he gives in, whipping up the phone, “Yea?” —-------------- It was December 23rd and the party at Barry’s house was winding down, thankfully. People had been peeling off in pairs and trios, leaving just a few of your boyfriend’s buddies drinking the night away and ignoring you. At some point you looked around and realized that Barry was just gone. The house he grew up in- still lived in, with his family, was, in a word, enormous. There were dozens of rooms and thousands of doors which made your search all the harder. It was just like him to vanish, leaving you to fend for yourself when he had assured you that this time it would all be different. Arms circle your thick waist from behind as he pulls you into the second floor bathroom, pressing you against the granite countertop while lifting your pretty green skirt, “I’m so hard right now, gotta fuck you.” You giggle uncomfortably, already feeling a little too full of bubbling champagne, “Barry! Here? Now?” But you don’t get an answer beyond a rough tear in your tights, Barry’s fingers shifting your panties to the side abruptly, “Yea, right fucking now.” And then he was pushed inside of you, his thrusts sloppy and bordering on painful as he drunkenly rubs at your full breasts through your sweater. If he was concerned with your needs, it didn’t show in the fast sawing motion of his hips, and before you could even trace the beginning of your own ending, Barry was babbling through his own. Curving over your back, he pants in your ear, “Hmm, that was great.” Pulling out of you quickly, Barry tucks himself back into his chinos and presses a tiny kiss to your cheek, “Make sure you clean up before coming out to say goodbye to everyone.” And then he’s gone, leaving you frustrated with sticky thighs. You thank a god you don’t believe in for birth control pills and shuffle over to the toilet, eager to tidy up the mess Barry had left in his wake. Swiftly removing your torn pantyhose, you toss them in the trash can, regretting the loss. Money wasn’t exactly tight, but you were trying to save as much as you could, unlike your upperclass boyfriend. Flushing behind you, you replace your panties and wash your hands. Wiping some water over your cheeks, you smile at yourself in the mirror, confident that no one would know what had happened in the bathroom between you and Barry. Carefully, you shut the bathroom door, surprised when you hear voices, low pitched, in the nearby hallway. Whispers that carry the weight of the familiar voice of your boyfriend begging quietly, “Come on baby, it’s Christmas.” “So? You told me you were done with that trash, Barry and then, then you bring her here. Throwing her in my face? Are you trying to hurt me?” “Dawn, please. You know I only want you.” “Barry, I want you too, baby. But I won’t share you, not with someone like her-” And then the sounds of sloppy kisses gain strength, complete with moans and grunting. It was bordering on pornographic, like something private that shouldn’t be witnessed by anyone but those involved and you wish that you weren’t having to hear it at all. A gross knot of nausea welled up inside of you at the realization of what was happening, and so soon after Barry had cornered you in his bathroom. Disgusted now, you knew you had to leave. The sooner the better. On quiet feet you tiptoe into the nearest bedroom and choking back tears, reach for the phone. Dialing the only number you can think of, the only you have committed to memory, you pray to that same god that he’ll pick up. Finger twisting in the beige cord as you wait through four long rings, nervousness and shame filling your belly as you wait for the call to connect. “Yea?” His voice is gruff, grumpy, which takes you by surprise. It makes your own sound small as you ask timidly, “Eddie?” “What’s wrong? Where are you?” It’s immediate, that change in tone, his understanding of your need, and you drop into a whisper, “Would it be too much trouble for you to come and get me? I- I don’t think Barry-” He breaks in, direct and guarded, “Meet me at the corner. I’ll be there in ten.” The line went dead in your ear, a sure sign that Eddie was already en route to you. Sneaking away was easy when your boyfriend was frenching someone else and no one else at the party cared about you. Scooping up your fuzzy holiday sweater, you went right out the front door into the chilly night, without anyone noticing. Sobbing openly, you scurry to the corner, suddenly overeager to get away from this whole night. Eddie told you ten minutes, but he made it in seven, the van idling loudly when you rounded the corner. Dashing away tears, you climb into the heavenly heat of his vehicle, smiling tightly, “Hey Eddie. Thank you so much, I just- I really needed to get out of there.” He eyes you, a look full of questions, but wisely Eddie asks none of them. Waiting for you to buckle up, he rests a broad palm on your thigh, patting it twice, “No problem, sweets. Where we headed?” “Just home, if that’s alright. I’m- I’m kinda tired.” Putting the van in drive, he appraises you from the corner of his eye. Something about you was so small tonight it made Eddie’s heart hurt. When he heard you on the phone that damaged sound in your voice was enough to make his Spidey sense tingle. It was wrong, the way you had whispered, asking- no, pleading for him to come and get you. Wayne completely understood why he had to leave, even if it was in the middle of putting the final touches on their Munson Christmas traditions. Besides, nothing was going to stop Eddie, not when you sounded so shattered. Clearly something had happened, something not great. And it was something big enough for you to run away from Barry’s huge holiday party, something you had been talking about for weeks. So, while Eddie appreciates you calling him in your hour of need, he absolutely wants to know how to make it better for you and make sure that you’re really alright. “That’s okie-dokie artichokie. But, uh, can you just tell me-” turning to you now, his deep eyes searching yours, full of concern, “-you’re not hurt, right?” He couldn't stand to think about what he might be capable of if you said that you were, or had been. But still, Eddie needed to make sure that you were okay for his own sanity’s sake.

You nod shyly, appreciating the kind hearted way that Eddie handles your privacy, and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Looking away, you hum lowly, “Yea, Ed. I’m alright.”

“You sure?” “Uh huh. Just got my heart hurt, so, ya know, nothing too serious.” You try for lighthearted, breezy, but you don’t sell it because Eddie frowns, “Just your heart? Oh, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.” There’s a lot of things you find hard to bear, but Eddie’s pity is just too much. It punches the air out of your lungs. It crumples your bottom lip, setting your chin wobbling as you give into the burning tears of your heartbreak. Smoothly, Eddie pulls over although you’re not too far from home by now. You can hear his seat belt unlock and then your own is set free so that Eddie can scoot you closer. His chin rests on the top of your head as you cry into his neck, his voice soothing as he comforts you, “It’s ok. It’s going to be alright, sweetheart. You’re going to be ok. Hush now.” You don’t know how long you let Eddie console you, his leather jacket warm under your damp cheek, but eventually the sobs become sniffles and the sniffles fade to hiccups. Pulling out of the comfort of Eddie’s embrace, your eyes red and cheeks chapped, you lament thickly, “I got you all wet! I’m so sorry, Ed!” “Hey, stop that. I’m fine.” Brushing wayward hair from your streaky and sticky face, Eddie tuts, “Are you sure you’re alright?” “Yea.” It’s sad sounding, but you’re being honest. You will be ok once you get home, have a shower, and start putting Barry behind you. It helps to have a friend like Eddie Munson there to offer his shoulder to cry on. He fusses over you for another minute, wiping away the crystalline dew of your tears with his thumbs, “I’m here for you, whatever you need.” Eddie makes you stay in your seat until he can open the door for you, like a gentleman should, and walks you to your door. His hand is loosely holding yours as you slide your key into the lock. Almost embarrassed, you look his way, suddenly shy again, “Wanna come in? I’ve got some beer and I think The Grinch is on tonight.” Laughing a little, Eddie shrugs, agreeing easily but still giving you the option for backing out, “Alright, if you don’t mind?” “Of course not.” Once inside you slink out of your coat and motion for Eddie to do the same, “Have a seat. I’ll be right back with something to drink.” Your place was very sweet, just like you, with a tinsel tree glowing with colored lights and other small holiday decorations set out just so. It seems to Eddie like you’re also on the Christmas Crazy-Train. There are two small boxes laying on the red plaid skirt beneath the tree and a single stocking tacked under the television stand. He half expects you to leave out some cookies and milk, as if Santa was going to shimmy down your chimney tomorrow night and deliver you a Christmas miracle. Eddie couldn’t help it. He thought it was precious, sorta like you. And if he’s being honest, he feels as though his own Christmas miracle is happening, right here, right now. For two long years, you had been friendly, a close relationship beginning when you both reached for a recently returned copy of Evil Dead at Family Video. In a moment of unprecedented cool guy maneuvering, Eddie’s suggestion that you come over to his place and watch it together. When you agreed, offering him that sweet smile of yours, well, that had started everything. He didn’t regret it, couldn’t even if he wanted to. It wasn’t your fault that Eddie was using you as the standard against which all other ladies in his life would be judged. And even though, in a bunch of unsuccessfully small ways, Eddie had tried to nudge your friendship in a more romantic direction, he was still as sprung on you as he had been from that very first moment. Now, he was here, with you, and so close to the big holiday. It felt like his own Christmas miracle might be possible, if he believed in that kind of stuff- which he didn’t. Because Christmas was a commercial product. It was soulless, despite what people said to the contrary. But still, he rubbed his hands over his thighs nervously as he thought that maybe tonight was the night. Tonight you would see him as the charming, romantic leading man that you deserved in your life and not just the guy who bailed you out when trouble came around. Eddie’s seen enough of the fluffy, feel-good films that capitalize on the holiday season to recognize that he may be a part of one, with you. Because it couldn’t just be a coincidence that you called him on Christmas Eve, needing help and knowing exactly where to go to get it, right? From the sound of things, Barry was quickly moving out of the boyfriend column and into the exes pile. Another coincidence? He sure as shit hoped not, but Eddie can’t get his hopes up, they’ve been dashed too many times. With eyes that couldn’t seem to settle on anything in particular, Eddie’s mind strays to the countless other times where you had required rescuing and he had charged, nobly, into the fray. Finding you crying on the nearest corner after running out on Barry’s insensitivity, pulling up in his ratty van outside of a party where you had clearly been unhappy, and once driving to the Indiana state border to fetch you from another one of your idiot boyfriend’s debacles. Each time he promised himself that it was the last time- that he was going to protect himself, he was going to stop answering the phone, he was going to tell you how he felt. But the calls, they just kept coming. Happening way too frequently for his liking, the worn muscle of his heart tightening every time Eddie had to hear you sob, or listen to you talk about the belittling way Barry treated you. Over and over again, you let the guy break your heart, only to take him back after some groveling and half meant apologies. And over and over again, Eddie could feel his own aortic organ shriveling up from the knowledge that you refuse to see him as anything more than your second choice. Tensing, he rubbed the back of his, wondering why he was here, waiting for you. Sometimes, it seemed to Eddie, like he was always just waiting around for your next phone call, your next emergency. On hold until the phone rang, on the shelf, out of use. Sure, he went out, hanging around other people; Steve and Robin, obviously, the Hellfire crew, his band. Other than that, Eddie was at home, puttering around, on alert for the jingling ring that means you’re tagging him in for an assist. And he hates it. He truly does, because even though he hasn’t said it in exactly these words, Eddie needs you too. Even more than that, he needs you to need him. It gives him a purpose, a reason for sticking around this one horse town that isn’t connected to tragedy or trauma. You were unavailable, sure, but always present, the living embodiment of his happiness and his sadness. Eddie couldn’t help that the ache of wanting you for his own and always coming up short, time after time, was starting to splinter him into pieces. Snapping his head up at the scuffing steps you made, you pad back into the room wearing a cozy flannel nightgown, complete with elastic wrist cuffs and satin covered buttons at the throat. In place of your make-up was a scrubbed clean face, glowing from the effort. Your heels had been replaced by a pair of simple slippers. Eddie swallows thickly, all of his other thoughts knocked out of his head. Never had a woman been more covered up and still so alluring. The old fashioned sleep shirt skimmed over the sweeping curve of your hips, but still managed to show off your shapely legs and graceful neck. He isn’t sure why it affected him so much, this comfortable and easy version of you, but it did. “Do you still want a beer?”

He’s seen your mouth move, shaping the sounds of your question, but Eddie is dumbstruck by the innocent version of you hovering at the doorway. Tossing his head, mostly to clear away the fog of his want, he croaked, “What?”

Giggling softly, you take a step closer, “I asked if you were thirsty. Still want that drink?” “Oh, that? Yea, yea sure.” Knowing that he must seem mental, Eddie shifted on the couch, rolling his eyes at his own erratic behavior. From over your shoulder you ask him to turn on the tv, “The Grinch is on channel five, I think.” “Gotcha!” The snap of the television coming to life fills the small space and you were practically running around the corner by the time Boris Karloff starts his narration. Plopping down right next to Eddie, you gently hand him a bottle and drop a bag of chips onto the table, “Just in case we get hungry.” “Uh huh. Since when do you like Doritos, huh?” Flicking at the plastic bag, Eddie gives you a friendly side-eye look, full of teasing. Settling back into the cushions, you tug Eddie’s arm around your shoulders, “Since I’ve been forced to eat them with you.” An appreciative tone rang out from Eddie’s chest as you pressed your ear over the dip in his torso, right over his heart. The gentle, even rhythm you found there was one of your favorite things and you took every available opportunity to listen to Eddie’s heartbeat. You couldn’t say why it was important or what it was about his particular pulse that made you feel better, but it did, and Eddie, well, he never seems to mind. His fingers seemed to have a mind of their own, petting sweetly over the strands of your hair that trailed down towards your shoulders and he saw you shiver, “Here.” Eddie tugged the knitted afghan from the back of the couch, tucking it in around you. Sighing, you snuggled into him, letting your eyes shut, feeling truly and completely at ease finally, “Hmm, thanks babe.” Babe? Oh shit. That wasn’t good. Not for his spiraling thoughts. Sipping his beer, he refocused on the green Grinch stomping on the screen. He couldn’t bear to look at you. Looking at you, right now, was dangerous. You were too precious. And the scene around him was too domestic. It was exactly what life should look like if you weren’t the town scapegoat, raised by your uncle in the worst part of town and Eddie didn’t trust himself not to do something stupid in pursuit of that idealized image. Against his thigh, Eddie felt you shift as you drifted off. You were practically in his lap with your head nuzzled into the center of his chest, eyes gently shut. If he wasn’t careful, Eddie was going to enjoy holding you like this, so close and so easy, a little too much. The Grinch was complaining about noise and Eddie understood the sentiment a little too well because right now he was struggling to ignore the little kitten snores you were making with every exhale. Your tiny huffed puffs blowing against his tummy, beer scented and sweet. He smiled down at you, full of affection and pulled you tighter to his side. Unable to stop himself, Eddie brushed a peck to your upturned forehead, whispering a rueful “Fuck” into the night. When The Grinch ended and Charlie Brown’s Christmas started, Eddie sat still, his empty beer bottle in his hand, afraid that any movement would wake you up. A news broadcast, filled with updates on the coming snow storm’s progress and holiday toy drive details wrapped up before the intro to Johnny Carson began. Through it all, Eddie kept his arm around you, enjoying the worn in feel of your nightgown under his hand and the way you were burrowed into the crook of his shoulder. It was hard to be in your space so intimately and not touch you, even if his hands burned at the effort of keeping them to himself. So, he didn’t trace the sweet sweep of your nose or tuck your hair behind your ears. And somehow, Eddie managed to keep from pulling you into his lap fully, just to pet you, like he would a sleeping kitten. Instead, he relished the trust you put in him, content to imagine happy kisses shared between the pair of you, while you dreamed next to him on the sofa. And you slept just like that, curled into Eddie Munson’s warmth until the strains of the National Anthem faded into staticy snow. You sat up quickly, pulling back from the shared heat you and Eddie had created with a yawn. Blinking his way sheepishly, your words full of drowsiness, “Sorry Ed- Did-” you rubbed your still sleepy eyes, “Did you- did you stay all this time just to let me sleep?” It was his turn to look bashful, and glancing out your window, Eddie nodded, “Yea. What can I say? You were too cute to move, sweetheart.” Snorting, you rolled your eyes at his kind words, “Oh, I bet I was! All drooly and-” But he cut you off with a firm finger under your chin that yanked you near enough for his lips to press into your own. A hungry sound, the kind a man makes when he’s digging into his favorite dinner, rolled through Eddie as you let your mouth part. Thick and probing, Eddie licked over your bottom lip, letting the kiss deepen as your hands tangled into the second skin of his t-shirt. His forehead rested against your own, chest rising and falling rapidly, as Eddie’s dark eyes locked on yours, “Hey.” “Hey,” you echoed, keenly aware of Eddie’s presence in your sphere, breathing him in with short inhales as you tried to quiet your racing heart. Hands that you know as well as your own come down to cup your face, handling you as if you were porcelain- precious beyond measure and utterly breakable, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” Looking like a happy kid on Christmas morning, Eddie’s dimples show as he smiles your way, his fingers threading with yours. Falling back into his original spot, he drags you with him, eager to have you in his arms, but you hold yourself back, teeth toying at your bottom lip as you blurt, “But Barry. He’s-” Your words stick in your throat at the sight of Eddie’s crestfallen face, a new iciness filling each syllable, “What? He’s what, sweetheart?” When you don’t answer right away, a rage that he normally can keep in check threatens to overflow, as Eddie carried on in a rising voice, “I’ve seen- shit-” a fist slams into the meat of his thigh, his anger focused on that one spot as hurt filled eyes find yours in the silver light of the running television, “-I’ve seen what he’s done to you. How he treats you. How he hurts you over and over.” Slender fingers reach for your cheek but Eddie doesn’t touch you. Instead he lets his hand drop into his lap, his heart falling into the abyss as he manages to choke out, “And still, you’d rather be with him?” For a long second you didn’t answer, your brain too full of thoughts. A lot had happened in the few minutes since you woke up, huddled around Eddie’s middle and you still weren’t thinking straight. How could you after an incredible kiss like that? And Barry. What about him? Were you together? You didn’t think so, not after what you had overheard, but that final conversation hadn’t happened yet.

Eddie’s words surround you though, the pain in them unmistakable. Shaking your head slowly, you huskily counter, “I didn’t say that, Eddie. It’s just-” But he pushed to his feet without giving you a chance to explain. Swinging his jacket over his broad shoulders with furious flare, “Ya know, what? Don’t. I don’t wanna know. Just uh-” in three long strides Eddie’s jerked open your front door. His back is to you, the handsome face that you’ve come to associate with protection and honor haloed by the streetlights, Eddie chokes out over his shoulder, “Merry Christmas.”

Your door, red bowed wreath swinging, slammed shut and now, now your apartment feels really empty, cold. The lights on your tree seem garish and glaring as this year’s holiday slowly but surely becomes the worst kind of memory. Feelings that you’re too tired to process flow through you, but in the end you drag yourself to bed in the early hours of Christmas morning, wishing it all away as a bad dream. Flopping into bed, you clutched your pillow in your arms, disappointed that it didn’t have a pulse to share with you. Already missing Eddie, you kicked yourself for being so indecisive, for ruining the precious seconds where only you and he existed in the twinkling glow of Christmas lights. Pale sunlight was streaking the sky when you finally closed your eyes, hoping that you’d wake up to a world that was back in its proper alignment. Only, morning finds you, just the same, and unfortunately, there are no singing Whos to make you feel better about the night before. There’s no one to kiss you awake and wish you a Merry Christmas Eve or tell you about the snow that is just starting to fall in fat, perfect flakes. You don’t have anyone to cook for or watch open gifts. It’s just you, all by yourself. It was always going to be a small Christmas, you knew that, truly. You didn’t have much family and only a few friends, except for the people you met through your boyfriend or Eddie. In fact, the gifts laying under the tree had been for them, of course. Now they both were ghosts: Christmas Past and Christmas Present. At some point you throw yourself onto the couch, clicker in one hand, a can of Coke in the other even though it was still breakfast time. It was around that time he’d called, much too early for your liking, so you let the machine get it. With a self assured voice that proved how little he understood or cared about you, Barry had left a message asking you to bring a dessert when you came for dinner that night. A last minute request for a last minute invitation. He was so sorry, but you would do it, right? His call went unreturned. Angry, you immediately erased the tape and took the phone off the hook. After last night with Eddie, you were fairly certain that no one else was going to be calling. Not on Christmas Eve when there were presents and parties and people to enjoy. Besides, all this silence gave you time to think, so while Danny Kaye and Bing Crosby tap danced across the twelve inch screen of your tv, you did just that. And if your eyes got misty at Rosemary Clooney’s gift of a knight on a white horse, then that was just how good the movie was, right? It didn’t have a single thing to do with a certain man willing to ride into battle on your behalf, over and over and over again. The more you thought, the more you realized that Eddie hadn’t been wrong about the ways in which Barry failed you as a boyfriend. He had been treating you like garbage for a very long time, longer than anyone should tolerate, but when you had so little, even the scraps seemed significant. Swallowing down your less than festive Swanson’s turkey dinner lunch, you realized that you didn’t want scraps- not anymore. Changing the channel, Jimmy Stewart’s drawl takes over the room, but you're not thinking about bells ringing. You’re thinking about Eddie, again. Still. You’re thinking about how, even now, your nightie smells like tobacco and light beer and old leather. You’re thinking about the sacred synth beating of his heart and how it always seems to settle you. You’re thinking about that tender kiss he laid on you when your brain was still fuzzy but your body knew just how to respond.

You’re thinking about Eddie this Christmas Eve, but is he thinking about you?

— Eddie has never been more miserable in life. Surrounded by all of his friends, gorging themselves on pie and turkey and ham and potatoes and cookies cut to look like snowmen, mittens or bells, Eddie is cursing the whole Christmas season. All of the trappings are just red and green reminders of what he doesn’t have, what he can’t enjoy, what he had with you last night when you were tucked into him, safe and sound, while The Grinch stole Christmas. “What’s eating you?” Steve’s got a small paper plate in his hand, balancing a slice of lasagna along with a piece of cake that’s been stabbed through by a white plastic fork, as he dropped down beside Eddie. “Nothing.” Leaning his chin into his hand, Eddie’s elbow dug into the meat of his thigh, a grouchy position for a grouchy guy. Licking frosting off his fork, Steve hummed, “No way. Something’s got you all pissy. Pissier than usual- and on Christmas too! Come on, lay it on me.” Rolling his eyes Steve’s direction, Eddie sat back reluctantly, “I- I think I fucked up.” Steve’s bite of lasagna hovered in midair, between the plate and his open mouth, as he tossed his infamous locks, “Impossible. It’s Christmas.” “What’s that got to do with it?” Eddie grumbled, sitting up swiftly. Really, was that any kind of explanation? It was December 25th so your life couldn’t be totally screwed up? Humbug. Chewing loudly, Steve nodded, holding up a finger as a silent indicator for Eddie to wait up until he swallowed. With a sip of his egg nog, Steve twisted in Eddie’s direction, “Well, first, everyone loves Christmas. Everyone but you, I mean. It makes people feel better. Want to be better, do better, ya know?” “So?” “So, you’re more likely to be forgiven for fucking up. I mean, shit. Nance and I got back together over Christmas. It’s magical, dude.” Blowing out a noise that was similar to a fart, Eddie shook his head in frustration, “It’s a day, Harrington. One day out of 365. Why does everyone make such a big deal-” “Are you kidding me? Have you like, never seen A Christmas Carol or, or watched ‘Rudolph’?” Confused, Eddie shrugs, “I have, but-” “But what? All the songs, the movies, the stories, they’re all about loving each other- and, and being kind at Christmas time.” Throwing up his hands, Eddie stared at his friend, his smile sort of sad, “Well, what if you kiss someone who’s still hung up on their asshole boyfriend?” With rounding, wide eyes, Steve stuttered, “You- you kissed her? It’s about damn time, man!” Flopping back, his long haired head resting against the tall cushion of the Wheeler’s couch, Eddie groused, “Naw, Harrington. She-” sighing deeply, willing the pain out of his tone, “-she’d rather stay with Barry.” Steve tossed down the empty plate, standing quickly, “No. Nope. Nuh uh.” Looking around, shocked by Steve’s sudden movements, Eddie can’t help asking, “What’s happening, Steve?” Bending at the waist, his handsome forelock falling forward, Steve’s hands find his hips as he admonishes the depressed rocker in front of him, “I’ll tell you what’s happening. You’re getting up and going over there. You have to talk to her, man.” Glaring up at his friend from under his shaggy bangs, Eddie shook his head defiantly, “No way. No fucking way. She-” Leaning down further, dad stance activated, Steve snapped, “Do you like her? Do you-” pausing to cock an eyebrow skyward, “-love her?” Gulping guiltily, Eddie’s head bounced in response as Steve added, “I thought so. Well, the good thing for you is that this magical day isn’t over. You never know what might happen if you go and talk to her. I mean, it’s Christmas, man. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll find out you didn’t fuck up everything after all.” “Is this some kinda motivational speech, Harrington?” Tilting his head as that wicked grin spread over his face, Eddie isn’t laughing at Steve, but he can’t help mocking him just a little bit. Confusion filling his face, Steve faltered for a second, “Uh, is- is it working?” Genuinely this time, Eddie smiled genuinely, “Yea, I think it is.” Straightening his spine, resolute, Steve countered, “Then, yes. I’m motivating you with my speech. Now, uh, get lost, Munson.” Offering his unlikely friend a hand, Steve pulled Eddie to his feet and was already ushering him towards the door. “Alright, but if this backfires, I’m coming back here and kicking your ass to the tune of Jingle Bells.” “Fair enough.” Steve tapped him twice on the back as Eddie slid towards the van, his sneakers not offering much traction in the snow, “Go get her, Munson.” Eddie started the van and gave Steve a thumbs up before backing slowly out of the driveway. For some reason, his heart felt lighter, buoyed by the pep talk from his buddy. Maybe Steve was right. Maybe there was a way to save this Christmas after all. Mind whirling, he was already planning out what to say to you- an apology to start. And he was sorry. Sorry for kissing you out of the blue. Sorry for not telling you how he felt. Sorry for talking about your boyfriend.

Ex-boyfriend? Whatever the hell he was now. But mostly, Eddie was sorry for walking away without telling you what was going on inside his head. You deserved that much at least. Snow was falling faster now, dusting the whole town in powdered sugar whiteness, and he found himself hunching over the steering wheel to see better between the drifting flakes. His defrost was working overtime, struggling to keep the fog off his windshield, as he cursed, “Jesus Christ!” As he got closer to your place his headlights illuminated a person, bundled up like a snowman, trudging along the barely plowed street. Shaking his head as he slowly rolled past, Eddie couldn’t understand what would possess someone to do something like that, even if it was Christmas Eve. What was so damned important that you went out in bad weather, a soggy sack of gifts melting under the swiftly shifting snow, he’d like to know. Pressing on the brake, Eddie stopped, disbelief flooding him. “No. No way-”

— Snow was dropping down in gentle swirls when you decided that you had to see Eddie, regardless of the fading sunlight, before Christmas Eve came to a close. Too much had been said, too much left unsaid, for your mind to let it go. Not to mention the way your heart ached dully when you thought about the wounded look on his face before he’d left you, stunned and speechless, after that tasty kiss. No. It was Christmas, dammit. And at Christmas, you told people how much they meant to you. How much you needed them. How much you relied on their strength, their warmth, their willingness to take teary phone calls at all hours of the night and then come rescue you from shitty situations time and again. How much you, gulp, loved them. It was Christmas Eve and you were only just now realizing that there was one person who you needed to make the holiday happy and bright. One dark hued, leather wearing metal head who just happens to be the white knight of your personal story. You just hoped it wasn't too little, too late. Jamming his gift into a bag, you dressed as warmly as you could, layering up like a cake before lacing up your boots. Pulling on a striped winter hat, complete with a fuzzy pom pom on top, you zipped up your heavy coat and stepped outside, shivering in the chill. You didn’t have a car of your own, so you were going for a wintery walk to the trailer park, all in the name of love.

With a foggy exhale, you hummed to yourself, “Oh, the weather outside is frightful-” On a good day, the walk to Eddie’s place was about fifteen minutes. Today, Christmas Eve, during a snowstorm, that quarter of an hour turns into forty five minutes easily. Color rose up on your cheeks, across your nose, and the tips of your ears. Anywhere you couldn’t cover with a scarf or coat was chapping in the cold air. And you had long ago stopped your singing. Forced to walk on the road since most of the sidewalks were untreated, you didn’t mind, but you were incredibly cautious about oncoming traffic. You wanted to talk to Eddie, not get turned into road pizza on the biggest holiday of the year, so you are walking into the wind and making yourself as visible as possible in the coming dusk. Still, it required a lot of effort on your part, even if you had started to question the sanity of your idea.

Headlights catch your eye and you raise a hand to block the brightness. The driver was going slow due to the snow and you move as far to the side as you can while also avoiding a slushy splash. Tucking further into your scarf, you trudged on, rehearsing the speech you were going to give when Eddie opened his trailer door. And maybe that’s why you didn’t notice when the passing vehicle slid to a stop before reversing on the empty roadway. All you know is that one second you were inside your head, white flakes flying past in swirling cyclones, and the next you hear a shout, “What the hell are you doing?” “Eddie?” Stopping short, your head snapped up at a voice you know as well as your own. He was out of the van in a flash, his hands gripping onto your shoulders tightly, “It’s cold as fuck out here, not to mention snowing like crazy, and you’re just- just walking around?” Tipping your chin up, you eyed him from under the brim of your stocking cap, “I was going to your place. I- I have a gift-” “A gift? Sweet fucking Christ! You coulda been killed! A car could have- or, or, you could have slipped on ice and hit your head. I mean, do you have any idea-” Horrible scenario after horrible scenario filled Eddie’s mind. Worrying about what could have happened to you and knowing that it hadn’t could not stop the flipped switch of his panic. With a cracking voice, Eddie pulled you into his heart, his warmth, questioning you brokenly, “What if I hadn’t seen you? What if- what if something happened to you and I wasn’t able to stop it. To save you?”

His grip tightens around you and your bulky coat, almost lifting you off the ground, “What would I do if-” A sweet half smile curls over your face as you put a mittened hand over his chest, cutting him off, “Eddie.” Your voice stills him, those wide burnt sugar eyes locking on yours, as he tips your head up, “Yea?” Pushing up onto the toes you could barely feel, you pressed a chaste kiss to Eddie’s warm mouth, lingering in his cinnamon gum scented sphere. For a second, he froze, your cold nose rubbing against his as your eyes fluttered shut. Then, his arms pulled you as close as your jacket allowed, those lips of his finding your chapped ones with a happy hum. Heat rushed through you, a welcome change from the dropping temperatures out on the snowy street. Only this heat was spreading from the clenching muscles in your tummy, a fire ignited by the wanting way Eddie moaned into your mouth. His nimble tongue danced alongside yours as the sky deepened into an inky indigo, dotted with picture perfect snowflakes. Fingers, pinkening from the cold air, tug on the ends of your scarf ensuring that you can’t get away from Eddie this time. He didn’t need to worry. You weren’t going anywhere, not without Eddie Munson, anyway. Not anymore. Parting in a puff of heavy air that turned silver in the snowy night, Eddie’s forehead bumped against the cuff of your cap, a goofy grin making his dimples impossible to ignore, “Hey.” “Hey.” Looking up at him through the curve of your lashes, expectant and excited, you were waiting to see what Eddie’s next move would be. You were rosy from cold, eyes shining bright in the fading light of day, and Eddie had never wanted you more. Swallowing thickly, you watched his Adam’s Apple bob while his arms rubbed over your thick sleeves, “Can I- Will you let me take you home?” Biting into your bottom lip, you nod quickly, “Yea. Yes, please.” Guiding you, Eddie ensured that you’re safely situated in the passenger seat before securing your buckle and shutting the door. You giggled as he moved around the front of the van, slipping in the slush, his face illuminated in the headlights. Catching your eye, he winks wickedly and then is seamlessly sliding behind the steering wheel with a wild toss of his snow-dampened hair, “Where to m’lady?” Sighing deeply, but happily, you pull off your winter hat, staticy strands sticking up at odd angles, “I’d normally say take me home, but-” “But?” There’s caution in Eddie’s voice. Like a skim of ice on the lake, things between you are still tentative- not solid, and he has a momentary lapse of confidence. Laying a hand on his denim clad thigh, leaning closer to reassure him, you shrugged, “But I don’t want to be alone. Not tonight. It’s Christmas Eve.” It gives Eddie an idea. A wonderful idea. A perfect, Hallmark Card, winter wonderland idea. “Ok, but just remember… You asked for it.” His tone is playful when Eddie swings the van in a circle, turning from the direction of your place back the way he came. Oh, he’s nervous. There weren’t a lot of people who had been to his trailer; just the closest, dearest of friends. Steve had seen the inside of the clean and cozy space a time or two, Robin and Nancy for sure, but mostly, Eddie was the guy pulling up to your place, not the other way around. A small Christmas tree, loaded with lights and ornaments faced the gravelly road where Eddie’s uncle was already parked. There’s strands of blinking lights criss-crossing the awning and a small sign that says, “Santa Stop Here” propped up on the porch. It’s a sweet sight, a glowing, golden invitation on a cold and snowy Christmas night and you can’t help the dopey look of glee on your face at what you’re seeing. Pulling the van in smoothly, Eddie held up a hand, “Wait, k? I haven’t been here to shovel.” Agreeing with a head bob, you sat patiently as he stomped around, snow high enough to cover his sneakers. Snagging your bag, you are prepared to step into the snow, but Eddie doesn’t give you the chance. One foot touched the ground and then he’s bear hugging you, walking you straight to the stairs as you laugh, “What are you doing?” “Keeping you from getting cold feet. Obviously!” Once he’s sure you’re on the firm ground of his steps, Eddie bounced back and kicked the van’s door closed. He brushed by you, his hand finding your elbow so that he could haul you inside, calling out warmly, “Hey, Uncle Wayne! Hope you don’t mind-” An older, more worn in version of Eddie, minus the long locks, popped a head out from the kitchenette, “Wha? Oh. Oh, we’ve got company then?” Wiping his hands on a well used dish cloth, he moved closer, arms wide, “I’m Eddie’s uncle- Wayne, in case you didn’t get that part.” The hug is crushing and so full of tenderness that you can’t help but wrap your arms around this new person, squeezing hard as he welcomes you. Stepping back, Uncle Wayne kept a firm hand on you, but eyed Eddie steadily, “Your phone call, I take it?” Chuckling nervously, Eddie rubbed a palm across the back of his neck, ruffling his hair in the process. He’s never been able to hide much from his uncle, this is no exception, and he can tell that he’s busted. “Yea, Wayne. She’s the one who called last night.” A look passed between them, approving and accepting, before Wayne clapped his hands, asking, “Are ya hungry, darling? It’s not much, but it’s our tradition, so to speak.” “If you don’t mind? I-” “Mind?” Wayne says it as if he’s offended by the idea, “You’ll be doing me a favor. Keep this one-” pointing at Eddie with an up turned thumb, “-on his best behavior. Come on!” Your jacket disappeared into a closet somewhere and Eddie helped you shuck the soaking boots you’ve been wearing for much too long. Excusing yourself, you duck into the bathroom, and when you come back, there’s a heartwarming scene unfolding in front of you. Wayne and Eddie, setting an extra place at the table, grumbling about the “good china” which you can tell is paper plates. Stopping, Wayne appraised his nephew for beat as Eddie centered a folded paper towel over your spot. A small smile pulled at the corners of his uncle’s mouth before Wayne dragged Eddie into an unwilling hug that ended with a firm clap on the younger man’s back. You swing back into the room at the sound, “This- this looks great, you guys!” A pot of macaroni and cheese, neon orange and buttery, sits in the center of the table. There’s a plate of ham and cheese sandwiches, cut into triangles and piled high on a Miller High Life tin tray, next to a bowl of salad greens. A big bottle of ranch dressing standing proudly at its side. “It’s not traditional, I guess-” Eddie started but Uncle Wayne cut him off, “It’s our tradition! All of Eddie’s favorite food is here. Except the salad, of course.” “Except the salad.” He echoed his uncle, offering you a sandwich from the tray while his teeth pinch the fat of his lip, desperate for your acceptance. He had no reason to worry. It’s just so lovely to be with other people, especially guys like the Munson boys. They pass around bottles of beer, telling stories, making you laugh so hard that your stomach muscles ache from it. From deeper in the trailer you heard the sound of an alarm clock buzzing and Uncle Eddie exhaled hard, “Well children, I have to get going.” Looking up from your seat at their table, you questioned, “No! You’re not leaving are you?” Taking one of your hands in his, Wayne pats it gently, “Double time at the plant is too good to pass up, even if the company is as excellent as yours, darling.” Pouting, you let your bottom lip stick out and Eddie is struck by an urge to kiss you stupid. Instead of whipping you into his arms in front of his uncle, Eddie stood up and started clearing the table, “Ok, old man. You can stop flirting with her now.” “Me? I would never!” And you could hear the same teasing tone in Uncle Wayne’s voice that Eddie has inherited. It’s flattering and flustering at the same time and you just knew that they could feel the flush of heat radiating off of you from the attention they both give you. “Yea, yea. Here-” Eddie handed a small box to Wayne, “-Food, for tonight’s shift.” “Thanks, son.” Turning in your chair you watched Wayne shrug on his coat, popping the collar up high to block some of the snow that’s still falling. At the doorway he nodded your direction, “Don’t be a stranger young lady. Merry Christmas to you both!”

And then the trailer goes quiet. Eddie pivoted fast, big eyes finding yours, and you both started laughing again. “Shit! I mean, I knew Uncle Wayne had moves, I’ve just never seen them in action like that before.” Feigning innocence, you placed a hand over your heart, “Do you mean to tell me that he was flirting? My, my, you Munson men must have a type!” Eddie’s chuckle petered out, his face growing serious, as he looked you over, “Yea. We do. Pretty ladies who uh, who walk through snow storms and love The Grinch.” You didn’t laugh because it wasn’t funny anymore. Reaching out his hand, Eddie lifted you to your feet, spinning you in place before bringing his hands to your hips. “Hey, hang on, k?” Nodding, you missed his presence when he stepped up to the record player hidden in the corner of the living room. The speakers spring to life, and with a triumphant grunt, Eddie placed a 45 on the turntable before returning to you. Nat King Cole started to croon about chestnuts and open fires, but you’re hardly listening. You’re caught up in the way Eddie’s eyes reflect the multi-colored lights of his cute Christmas tree, reds and greens and yellows and blues. The feeling of his hands swaying you back and forth, moving you where he needed you to be, is intoxicating, heady. Drawing your palms over his forearms, you slid them higher, higher, higher, until you could lace them behind Eddie’s neck. He stretched against your folded fingers, looking down at you, “I’m really glad that you came over tonight. I don’t think Wayne will ever get over it.” Snickering sweetly, you wet your lips, “He loves you.” “He’s the only one.” Shaking your head, your hooded gaze never leaving his, you countered, “Uh uh. That’s not true.” Eddie tilted his head, studying your expression, “You calling me a liar, sweetheart?” His tone was playful but the tenor was low, raspy, grating, and you matched it when you answered, “Yea, maybe I am.” “Are you saying that you love me?” Whispering, just in case he was dreaming, just in case he had to deny that these words had ever been spoken, Eddie paused all movement. You nod, yes, but it’s not enough. Not for Eddie. Not tonight. “Please, I need- I need you to say it.” A clock ticked away the seconds while you peered into the hot cocoa gaze of the only man you truly trusted, “I love you, Eddie. I- I think I always have, really.” If you could capture an image to look over forever, it would be the face Eddie made at your husky confession. The unadulterated joy that crowds his features made you think about New Year’s Eve fireworks, exploding and expanding as they brilliantly burst. Eddie broke your hold on him, his fingers threaded between your own as he brought a hand up to press a little kiss to your knuckles. “I know. It took you long enough to realize it, though, sweetheart.” Looking away from him, a stupid, giddy smile grew across your face. You rolled your eyes, “Maybe I was waiting for the right moment? ‘Tis the season, ya know?” Eddie didn’t reply, at least not with words. He picked his moment and using your waist as leverage, snugged you tight to his lean body. One arm braced along your spine as his other hand cupped your bountiful bottom, tipping you off center a bit so that he could wrap your leg over his hip. He’s so solid, so sturdy, that you melted into the embrace, letting Eddie support you entirely as you gripped at his firm biceps. That curtain of ebony hair brushed against your cheek as your mouth searched for and found more of Eddie to taste. Mewling against his lips, you could feel his growing excitement and your core pulsed with need at the idea of having all of Eddie, all for yourself. Pinching your bottom, Eddie straightened you both up, jerking his head towards the small room at the end of the hall, “Come on.” A little light headed, you followed where he led, landing in his personal domain. It’s a space dominated by his love of music and all things D&D related, and it smelled so good, so right, that you launched yourself in his direction, needy lips already moving in on him. Eddie met you there, in the middle, ready and wanting. Longing for him, you toyed with the hem of his t-shirt, desperate to feel Eddie under your hands. Gliding higher, Eddie chuckled, catching your hands in one of his, “Your hands are freezing!” “Sorry!” You rubbed them together, blowing on them, trying to warm them up as quickly as possible. “S’ok, I got you.” He stepped away and crossed his hands at the bottom of his shirt before ripping it off in one fluid motion. Eddie is stunning. His compact and constant strength is evident in the smooth lines of his chest, his tattoos a road map to pleasure. You didn’t know whether to touch him, or kiss him, or lick him- your thoughts derailed entirely when he tisked, “Um, see something you like?” Beneath your hands Eddie felt so substantial, so solid. Tracing his ribs, you leaned in to kiss the places where black ink outlined the images associated with his rock and roll persona, keeping a hold on his trim waist. When you reached the hollow of his chest, the place that hovered above his heart, you lingered long enough to purple the skin there as yours. Home. It’s the sort of attention that Eddie isn’t accustomed to- someone showering him in affection. The time its taken for your tongue to lick lines over his pecs, press kisses across his collar bone, nips at the cologne stained skin of his neck, feels like decades. Eons. Ages. But he let you take that time. Breathing became a struggle, especially when you purse your lips and sucked little red splotches over the length of his core, your still chilly fingers dug into the muscles of his back as a reminder for him to keep still. Tentatively, you played with his belt, not wanting to show just how eager you truly were in this moment. He doesn’t stop you, instead Eddie moves your hands to his handcuff shaped buckle, encouraging you, “Yea, go ahead, babe. I- I want you to.” Jumping at the contact, Eddie’s stomach muscles contracted and he hissed. Dropping to your knees, you pushed his jeans down, down, down, and tapped his calf. It was a silent way of telling him to move his feet so you could get his pesky pants off of him. From this position, Eddie stood tall and straight like a mythological hero above you. Other guys might have tried to hide their growing erections, crossing their hands over any visible sign of their desire, but that’s not Eddie’s style. If anything, he parted his legs, widening his stance to showcase his masculine power. And if the boxers he wore weren’t covered in Santa faces, then you were certain his manliness would have overpowered you. “Ah! These are very cute.” Flicking at the hem of his shorts, you had to tease him. You have to lighten the mood otherwise, you were going to combust right to ash at his feet. “‘Tis the season- isn’t that what you said?” Throwing your words back at you, Eddie let his fingers tangle in your hair, urging your head back as your dewey mouth parted. You were so close to him, to his aching stiffness, that all his willpower is being channeled into behaving. It would be all too easy to dig his thumbs into the pudgy flesh of your cheeks, keeping your mouth open wide as he fed his hard cock between your lips until you were full up with Eddie. A shadow of his thoughts crossed behind his eyes and you gulped audibly, pressing your thighs together at the idea of him using you for his own end. Only, that wasn’t who Eddie Munson was, at heart. There was no forcing, no taking, not without talking first. And that alone was so very different from whatever his name was that you were already feeling more excited, more aroused than you could ever remember being before. Nodding at his quip, you stretched your fingers toward the gathered elastic band of his jockey shorts, but he stopped you, “Not yet, ok, pretty girl? Wanna see you first, alright?” “Oh, yea, ok. Sure.” You stood up on shaking legs, never breaking the heated stare between you and Eddie. Slowly you started to peel off the layers of clothing that you had wrapped around yourself before heading out into the snow. Fumbling, you toed off one thick sock when Eddie’s low laugh interrupted your eager undressing, “Lemme help you. You helped me, it’s only fair.” Motioning to his thigh, you brought your socked foot up, inhaling sharply when Eddie rolled the soggy wool down your toes before chucking it towards the door. Those calloused fingers massaged up your calf, the muscles there tense from your excursion, and you groaned gratefully at the softening his touch brings. Too soon, in your opinion, Eddie lowered your leg back to the floor, but it’s only because he was raising the bottom band of your hoodie over your head. Stumbling a bit, he caught you, now in a t-shirt and leggings, “Did you put on everything you own?” “It’s cold out! And I was walking here to tell the guy I love “Merry Christmas”!” It’s your best defense and the base honesty of it makes Eddie weak. “Fair enough, sweetheart, but I need you naked. Like, now.” His eyebrows are raised expectantly making you chortle as his overeager attitude. You got a little bit fresh though, wanting to tease him, to draw out the night, so you sass, “What if I’m your gift, huh Munson? And you’re just rushing through the unwrapping part-” He doesn't let you finish. Instead, Eddie scooped you up with his hands on your soft bottom, pushing his nose into the crook of your neck, “Oh, I know how to take my time, babe. Especially when it matters.” “Fuck, Eddie.” It’s a broken exhale, wanton and laced with a desperation that he had never heard from you before. He’s an addict already. Buttons part easily under Eddie’s knowing fingertips. Your flannel shirt and faded tee are thrown across the room joining the growing pile of your clothes. After your ribbed tank top comes off, the last barrier to your bountiful breasts is the emerald green bra you put in, hopeful that Eddie would have a chance to see it before the night ends. Now here he is, an owlish look on his wonder filled face, “Wow.” Heat climbed through you at the raw realness on display in Eddie’s features. That’s when you decided that you can’t wait any longer and took his wrists in your hands, placing them on your waist as you stepped into his arms, “Eddie, baby, please? Please touch me.” He doesn’t respond with words. Gripping you tight enough to bruise, your head is tipped back to make room for Eddie’s roving mouth as he scorches a path down your neck. At the swell of your breasts he slowed down, savoring the flavor of your skin, teasing you with his tongue. Licking over the lace of your bra, Eddie sucked on your hardened nipple through the fabric, the foreign sensation making you jump under his ministrations. You tangled a fist in his hair, pulling against the loose curls, and he let you direct his mouth back to your own bee stung lips as you mewl, “Need you, Eddie. Need you now.” “Fuck, baby.” Walking you backwards, Eddie lowered you onto his bed, following you down to the mattress. His hands cupped your cheeks, brushing your hair back so he could really see you, those broad thighs pressing your own open. You could feel the delicious weight of him on top of you, his hard cock unavoidable, and you rolled your hips into Eddie’s just to hear him groan. In a rush now, Eddie ripped your pants off in a flash, taking your panties with them. Kneeling between your spread legs, he laid his hands over his heart, “I really love-” you angled up onto your elbows, anticipating how he’ll finish his sentence, “-my Christmas gift. Thank you so much for bringing it over, even if you had to walk a mile in the snow.” “You shit!” Giggling at his theatrics, you grabbed for him, only satisfied when he’s draped over your prone figure. There’s a kiss then, and another, and another until they blend together in your mind. Some are sweet and slow. Some tender and testing. Others are sloppy, teeth clicking, tongue sucking kisses. Hands are everywhere. They glide along hairy thighs and smooth arms. They paused to fondle, to flick, to squeeze. They never stopped moving. Fingers find ticklish spots to linger on, drawing out laughter, high and sweet. Fingers press hard into soft skin. They dig in, they hold on. When Eddie’s bold enough, he touches you at the dark, damp cavern of your core. The un-rushed attention is overwhelming and it doubles in intensity when his calloused middle finger finds a home surrounded by your satin walls. Clutching at his arms, you wailed thinly, “More, Eddie, more, please.” A second finger breached your wet cleft, the stretch delicious and somehow delicate because Eddie’s listening to you, to your body, and he’s not rushing. His gaze had not left yours, the show you’re putting on is just too good to miss and he has a front row seat. Kissing over your tummy, moving lower, you bucked into his grip just as his plush pout pressed against your straining clitoris. Fisting his pillow with one hand, the other curled possessively around the back of his neck, holding him steady. Holding him close. Holding out for the inevitable peak of your pleasure, brought on by the unceasing attention of your lover. Panting, your thighs quaked, the ecstatic energy gathering in your body ready to explode. It’s been so long since you had someone take care of you, worry about pleasing you, think about getting you off first, that when your orgasm hits it is leveling. The air huffs out of you in short bursts as your body goes rigid, all of your limbs seem to lock up, and every molecule of your form is concentrated on the overriding bliss created by Eddie and his feelings for you. Maybe you blacked out, you don’t really know what else to call the far away floating sensation that accompanied your little death. What you do know is that Eddie has you gathered in his arms, your head cradled over that spot- your spot on his chest, his heartbeat the first sound that breaks through the fog of your climax. Rocking you back and forth, soft kisses pressing into the crown of your head, as Eddie cooed, “I got you, pretty girl. It’s alright. You’re ok, honey.” Shivering as you come down from your intense high, stray tears cascaded down your cheeks, but these are not born of sadness. Experiencing euphoria like this was overwhelming and you gratefully sunk into Eddie’s warmth, hiccuping, “I’m- I’m ok, Eddie. I’m- thank you. Thank you so much.” “Thank me? Sweetheart, I didn’t do-” Swiveling in his arms, you peered up at him through wet eyes, “But you did! You do. You always take such great care of me and tonight, all this, it’s no exception.” And you kissed him with everything you had in your heart, saying ‘I love you’ with your body over and over again. When you pulled back this time, a small hand on Eddie’s stubbled cheek, you shook your head, not believing that you were here, now, with this loving man, “I think I must be dreaming.” “Then, please, for the love of Ozzy, do not wake up.” An undignified snort of laughter snuck out of you and Eddie takes advantage of the distraction to lay you back on the bed. Floppy and boneless, you’re spread out and giggling, ready for whatever Eddie wanted to do. You run your foot over his leg, landing on his hip before he wrapped a hand around your ankle, steadying his hold on you to ensure that you were open wide for him. You nibbled on your pinky finger, knowing what came next, but playing coy. That sweetness, the innocent way you batted your eyelashes at him, it made Eddie throb. Yearning to be inside of you, he smooched at the skin of your inner thigh, “God, you’re so fucking pretty. Can I touch you, beautiful? Can I make you feel good?” Why would you ever say no to that? Letting your calves lock around his, you lifted your hips up so that you could hump against Eddie, “Please, Eddie, for fuck’s sake!” And then he was fisting himself, lining the hardest part of his body up with the softest part of your own, “Hey, hey, look at me.” Locked in on Eddie’s blown out stare, you licked over your bottom lip, which only made him groan. Dropping his chin, he shook his head, “You- you can’t look at me like that, baby. I’m going to cum before I ever get to feel you if you keep that up.” “But, I didn’t-” Running a hand through his hair so that it fell over his shoulder, he husked, “You can’t help it. You’re just so damned adorable and-” the expansive head of his cock caught at the slick circle of your quim, “-And I fucking love you.” Inhaling sharply, your body arched off the bed and straight into Eddie’s chest at his first breaching thrust. Hands tensing, your nails clawed at his forearms as he stilled, giving you time to adjust to his shattering length and stretching width. Distracting you, Eddie’s mouth dotted kisses along the base of your throat and over your jaw, before huskily growling into your ear, “I’m gonna move now, ok?” Noiseless, you nodded as Eddie kept his word. Withdrawing slowly, Eddie was exercising all the control he possessed to ensure that you got the best of him. And even with his concentration focused on the long, smooth strokes of his thrusts, he still managed to touch you, kiss you, mumble out sounds like yes and fuck and your name. “Eddie, more, please?” You hadn’t meant to whine but he felt so good that you wanted all you could get. It was as if you had cut him free by asking that question. Eddie let his body reply, rolling his hips, no longer pulling free from your velvet vice. Instead he surged forward, deeper and deeper with every press of his pelvis against your own.

Your sweaty skin had gone over goosebumps, a shivering, shining sensation spiraling from your core. You found your voice but could only manage to whimper as Eddie let a free hand rake over your thigh before his fingers landed on your clit, rubbing in light circles. The contact made your muscles clench and through gritted teeth, Eddie cursed, “Fucking hell, sweetheart!” His reaction made you giggle breathlessly, “I’m so close Eddie. Are you? Are you gonna cum?” “Yea. Yea I am, honey. Can you hold on? Cum with me?” Hugging him, your back off the mattress, you peppered him with kisses, agreeing with a happy hum. Eddie kept his rhythm, the even movement of his fingers, and when he felt his own eminent ending, took a beat to encourage you, “Sweetheart, please? Let go for me, yea? Wanna- shit- wanna feel you cum around my cock.” Language like that would have made you embarrassed before but coming from Eddie’s sweet, sweet mouth it set you aflame, “Eddie! Yes! Yes, baby!” Your ruinous release arrived with a shout of his name. Going rigid under Eddie as he rocked into you, his palm pressed to the center of your chest, right over your heart, and then he shuddered above you, his forehead coming to rest against your own as you both fought to catch your breath.

But then Eddie pushed away, abruptly, the overflowing spend of his ecstasy wetting your thighs. It left a cold and empty gap between you when he turned his back to you, his shoulders hunched. Sitting up, you moved to Eddie’s side, “Eddie? Are you- are you ok?” There was no answer, so you crawled to his side, but he avoided looking at you, so you draped a hand on his meaty quad, squeezing slightly, as you asked, “Babe, what’s going on?” Kneeling on the bed in front of the man who just gave you two delicious orgasms, you were utterly shocked at the sight that met you; Eddie, skin shiny from sweat, sitting cross legged, was biting into his knuckle. It was the reason which broke you. He was crying. Tough, beautiful, Eddie Munson was crying. Sobbing really, and to stifle the sound, his teeth were gouging into the flesh of his finger. Once more he tried to avoid you, but you were quick to pull his arm down, “Eddie, what happened?” “I-” his voice was thick, embarrassed and full of emotion, “-I’ve never- What we just did, I-” When you realized that he couldn’t get the words out, you took his hands in yours, kissing over the pulse point of each wrist, “Imma need you to take a deep breath, babe. There ya go!” And you praised him when he inhaled brokenly. Puffing out his cheeks on the exhale, he allowed your clever fingers to wipe away his tears, apologizing, “I’m so sorry. So sorry, sweetheart.” “For what? Where’s this coming from?” “For being a big baby, now, after we just-” damp and wet cheeked, his pretty brown eyes found yours in the dim, “-after we made love.”

“Oh, Eddie.” Your hand cupped his cheek and he leaned into the warmth he found there, sighing. For the first time in your relationship, you were able to offer Eddie the sort of comfort and care that he had shown you so many times. Wasting no time, you straddled his lap, wrapping him in a hug. He hooked his chin over your shoulder, “I just- I’ve never had anyone love me. Not like this and-” You silenced him with your lips, your tongue prying into his mouth, drinking the sadness from the source. All of your want, all of your love, all of it went into the kiss you laid on Eddie. When you leaned back far enough to stare at your man, you were met with his earnest expression, still raw and real.

Your forehead nudged into his, a half-smile playing on your lips, “Hey.” “Hey.” Still sounding sad, Eddie let a chuckle burst out of him, but you found it endearing, encouraging. Eddie let his hands find a place on the thick meat of your tush, keeping you close as you nuzzled into his neck, “I love you, Eddie. All of you. And for so many reasons.” “Yea?” He sounded like he still couldn’t believe it. That this was all too good to be true. Pulling back on his hair, he hissed but didn’t try to stop you. “Yea, Eddie. Yea, I do. I fucking love you.” Then he was laughing. A joyful, open, happy sound that brightened the room and made you smile wide. Eddie lightly slapped your ass, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he licked open mouth kisses along the top of your chest, leaving red marks along the way. Laughing too, you basked in the bubble of love that the two of you were creating. Dragging you to his side, your head rested against his chest, over your special spot. His heart was thumping, steady and strong, already lulling you to sleep, when you tipped your head up, “Merry Christmas, Eddie.” “Uh, Merry Christmas.” And what happened next, well in Hawkins, they say, that Eddie Munson’s small heart grew three sizes that day. On Christmas morning, Eddie cooked you breakfast, and made sure there was plenty of fresh coffee for Uncle Wayne to come home to. After the dishes were washed, you pulled his gift out of your snow stained bag, “This is for you.” “Aw, baby! You didn’t have to do this.” Shifting your weight, you nervously danced, “I know! But, well… OPEN IT!” The paper tore away quickly, revealing a framed photo of the two of you sitting on lounge chairs at Steve’s house, happiness visible on both of your faces. When he looked at the picture it was painfully obvious; you were in love even then. It was clear from the way you leaned into each other, your head resting right over his heart, exactly where it belonged. All you needed to make that love a reality was a Christmas miracle, but those only come around once a year. A lump rose in Eddie’s throat. Maybe there was something to this holiday after all. Something about love and caring and showing people how much they meant to you. Maybe it wasn’t about the cost of gifts or the wrapping paper; the ornaments or the parties. Maybe Christmas wasn’t so bad. Not if it brought you two together, once and for all. Shit. Steve had been right. Eddie was going to have to thank his friend for the motivational speech. When he saw your expectant look, Eddie cleared his throat, declaring, “I love it. Thank you, so so much.” Extending his hand, you took it, letting him settle you in his lap, humming, “And I love you, so so much.” When Wayne came home, you were curled in Eddie’s lap, his arm holding you close. Both of you were sleeping peacefully, the tv playing a repeat of the holiday parade. He shook his head, happy in his heart. Merry Christmas, indeed. —------FIN—-----

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