#and then has her nice little winter holiday break

[notmoreflippingelves]

I'm just a girl standing in front of the Elena of Avalor S3 timeline begging for it to make even a little logical sense.

[verstappen-cult]

# WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF I WENT TO TOUCH YOU NOW? | CL16

Or. . . 5 times you and Charles reach for the other and are oblivious about it + 1 time you aren’t.

Pairings: Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader.

Content Warnings: Smut, fingering, unprotected sex. Just two oblivious in love. This one is long, so, prepare yourself, go grab a cup of coffee and a snack. I haven’t written smut in a very long time so don’t expect anything fancy and please be nice. Enjoy! xx

You and Charles can’t keep your hands to yourselves. Everyone can see that. Everyone but you two.

Charles is always reaching for you. He’s the first one leaning in to kiss your cheek as a greeting when you see each other, lingering for a couple of seconds with his cheek against yours, feeling your soft skin, with his hand squeezing your waist ever so slightly. When you are out with your friends he’s always trying to sit by your side, waiting for the right moment to put his arm in the back of your chair, fingers brushing your shoulder and keeping up with the conversation as if nothing is happening. Charles tries to be smooth about it, he really tries.

And you are always reaching for Charles. Well, as his Press Officer it’s your job to be by his side. When you need him to pay attention to you as you’re explaining the plan for the day, you make sure to grab him by his biceps, not letting him go until you are finished, and even then you take a couple of seconds to pull away. Every time you pass each other around the paddock, you always find a way to catch his arm, his shoulder or his waist. Even when he’s too busy and late to something and you don’t actually need him for anything, he makes time for you.

But it wasn’t always like that.

There was a time when you would not even dare to think about touching him, too shy and wanting to be professional. It was a little hard when you had to be by his side almost all day, every day. You would try to not look directly at him – impossible to do given that you needed to do your job – but then Charles started to make a few jokes to break the ice and make some conversation, started to ask about your day, he started to care. And, well, the rest is history.

#1

New Year’s isn’t your favorite holiday, so, you spent it at home watching romcoms and went to sleep even before the clock hit midnight. Your friends weren’t happy but you promised to make it up to them. That is why you could not say no when your friends invited you to spend a few days with them on a Ski resort in Italy. Winter break was about to be over, after all. So, you showed up at the train station with all your bags and a little sleep deprived.

“I was about to call the police. I thought you were bailing on us.” Your friend says as a greeting, helping you with your bags. “You look like shit.”

“Oh, thank you, how sweet of you.” You roll your eyes but let her kiss your cheek. “I’ve been a little busy with the new season starting in a couple of weeks.”

“Let’s not talk about work,” You get on the train after her, looking for your seats and the rest of the group. “we actually told the same thing to Charles.”

You’re about to ask her what does she mean by that when you see the brown hair of Charles Leclerc. The next thing you see is his smile, dimples on display.

Since you started working with Charles as Media — then when you were promoted to PR Officer — there has not been a day you two haven't been together or communicating one way or another. So, anyone can say that becoming friends was bound to happen.

You make your way to him without a second thought.

"Hey, Charlie." Charles moves to the side, leaving the spot beside him free for you to sit. Which you immediately do.

"Are you excited?" He asks, turning his whole attention to you.

You have to look away, his green eyes looking at you so intensely that you feel he can see right through you into your soul.

"I've never skied before." You admit, cheeks flushed.

Charles' eyebrows shot up, his eyes flashing with enthusiasm. "Oh, you're gonna have so much fun."

The train starts moving, making you both look outside. You weren't planning on sitting with Charles, but you're not gonna stand up and leave him. Not that you actually want that.

You're about to ask him about the place you're going to spend the next days in when a yawn messes up everything.

Charles smiles softly at you, his hand patting your knee. He leaves it there for one, two, three, four seconds before removing it.

"It's not that far, really. But you could—" He clears his throat, eyes darting around. "I've been told my shoulder is the best spot to take a nap. It’s like very comfortable." Charles has a teasing but shy smile on his face, gaze finally landing on you.

You feel your face burning. You don't even need to look at yourself in a mirror to know how red your face is, probably the same color as his racing suit.

You look between his shoulder and his eyes, pretending to think about it when, in reality, you've made up your mind the second he stopped talking.

"I don't wa—"

Charles shakes his head, moving a little closer until your left side is touching his right one, not a breeze could pass between you.

You sigh, fidgeting with your fingers as you let your head rest on his shoulder. His scent hits you immediately, is calming, warm, earthy. And it reminds you of the cabin in the woods you and your family used to spend winters in when you were a kid. Surrounded by tall, green trees and a still lake.

The last thing you feel before falling asleep is Charles resting his head on top of yours.

*

"I can't do it. No, nope." You say, trying to move away, but the skis don't let you go that far.

"Yes, you can." Charles says from behind, startling you. You weren't expecting him to stay behind with you and your Ski instructor. "Just— let me." He tells the instructor, urging him to move out of the way.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m teaching you the basics,” He explains casually, as if you don’t have a certified instructor waiting a few meters away.

You smile when he positions himself by your side, too busy trying to make you stand correctly to notice how fondly you're looking at him.

"So, you need to bend your knees a little," You don't know if he notices, but his hands finding your waist to help you move just like he wants you to, send a shiver down your body. You can feel his warmth even through the layers of clothes. "Just like that, yes. You're doing great." Can he shut up? If he's going to praise you every time you do something right, you're not going to survive.

You look over your shoulder when you hear your friend's voices. You catch the exact moment they see you two and stop walking to turn around and go back to where they were before.

"Now, lean forward." Charles instructs you and you follow. Trying to regulate your breathing but with Charles so close to you is an impossible task. "Amazing!" You just leaned. It’s not that hard. "I need to— um... excuse me." He whispers, lowering one of his hand to your thigh and spreading your legs a little. When Charles looks up, his cheeks are tinted with a pretty pink color. You know you're blushing too.

Charles keeps on teaching you the basics. You even move a few meters with him by your side, his hands on your waist at all times.

"You're ready." The Monégasque says, smiling. "You are a fast learner, is she not?" From the first time in what feels like a lifetime, he asks the instructor, who is immediately moving closer.

"Of course," The man says, a polite smile directed at you. "Now we can slide down the mountain. And I'm going to be by your side at all times, so, you don’t need to worry."

You nod, excited to start skiing. Finally.

"You can go, Mr. Leclerc." The Italian man says. But Charles doesn’t move, he just keeps on looking at you, hands still on your waist. At this point you feel like they belong there. “Uh, Mr. Leclerc?” He insists. This time Charles looks at him, shaking his head to rearrange his thoughts. “If you want to go, I’ll take care of her.”

“Oh, yes! Sure, yeah.” Charles pulls away, leaving the ghost of his touch behind. “You’re gonna be alright?”

“I’m sure I’ll survive, Charlie.” He makes you chuckle. “I had a pretty good instructor and I have another one ready to catch me if I fall.”

It looks like Charles wants to say something else but chooses not to and, instead, looks at you one final time before sliding down the mountain.

“So, let’s go?” Your instructor positions himself by your side in the same spot Charles was before.

He doesn’t touch you like Charles did. And you don’t feel as safe as you felt with Charles by your side.

#2

It’s Ferrari SF-24 Launch day. Winter's break is over and Charles is back in Maranello.

Charles hasn’t seen you since yesterday evening, after spotting you having dinner with members of the PR team and, without thinking so much about it, walked into the restaurant. Someone invited him and he didn't hesitate to grab a chair and sit by your side.

It was a very pleasant dinner. And Charles didn't let anyone pay for it.

You said your goodbyes after that and you made sure to remind him that he needed to be before 8:00 AM for the launch, and to have time to go over all the details of what Charles needed to do that day.

That’s most definitely the only explanation as to why Charles is getting out of his car at 7:15 in the morning. Not because he wants to see you, of course not. It’s just because he has a lot of things to do. It’s an important day, after all.

“Good morning.” Charles greets some people of the team that are passing by, rushing to get everything ready for the launch in less than an hour.

He’s in a good mood. He just knows it’s going to be a great day. Charles also knows it’s gonna be his year.

"You're early."

Charles turns around at the sound of your voice. He finds you checking the time on your watch, a teasing smile adorning those plump, pink lips of yours.

"You said before eight."

You laugh, walking down the hallway. "Yeah, but not so early." He follows you, trying to catch up with you. "However, I'm glad you decided to show up on time, we have a lot to do."

"I wanna go back to sleep." He complains, pouting like a child.

He makes you laugh, again. Charles thinks your laugh is his favorite sound in the world. Beside the sound of the SF-24.

Charles really likes to make you laugh.

"Wait, are you laughing at me?" He pretends to be offended, and you mimic the sound of his voice, bringing your hand to your chest.

"Me? Never!"

"You sure?" He stops walking, stopping right in front of you. "Because you know what I'm gonna do if you're actually laughing at me?"

You look at him suspiciously, fighting the smile that wants to make its way into your face.

Charles takes a step towards you, making you take a step back.

"Charles, whatever you're thinking—don't."

"What? I'm not doing anything!" He sounds innocent, even raising his hands in surrender. But he's still walking towards you, shortening the distance until he's so close you can count the freckles on his face.

Before you notice what's happening, he's tickling you.

It makes you throw all the things you had on your hands to the floor. You try to pull away and make him stop, but he just keeps going.

Your laugh fills the hallway you're currently in.

But you can't take it anymore, your stomach hurting for laughing so much. It’s also only a matter of time before someone comes to see what's happenig, so, you do the only thing your brain can conjure up to make him stop: hit him. Even if it's just a little push.

You raise your arms, ready to push him and defend yourself. But Charles reflexes are good and so fast, because before you can do anything, he's grabbing your wrists stopping you.

Your laugh dies in your throat.

Charles amusement is clear on his face, eyes shining with mirth.

"You are," You take a deep breath, trying to regulate your rapid breathing. "a very bad man."

He laughs, throwing his head backwards. "I'm just defending my honor, boss."

You shake your head, throwing daggers at him with your eyes. But Charles doesn’t react at all, he just caresses the inside of your wrists with his thumb.

“I promise to behave if you don’t laugh at me again.” He pouts, and your heart does a black flip inside your chest, skipping several beats.

Hesitantly, you reach out to rest a hand on his chest, giving him a little playful push. You’re not sure if you imagine the shiver you feel under your hand or if it really happens.

You chuckle, looking straight into his eyes. “I can’t make that promise.”

Charles lets go of your wrists against his will. He bends over to pick up the things you were carrying, but doesn’t give them back to you.

“If we end up getting scolded, I’m blaming you.”

Charles looks at you for what feels like hours, taking you in. He really thinks he could just watch you all day and he’d find a new freckle on your face, or a glint in your eyes he hadn’t seen before.

He leans in, so, so close, that feels your breath hitch. Charles thinks you’re gonna pull away for a second but you don’t make a move, you just keep looking at him with a indescribable expression.

“You can do whatever you want. I’ll take it.” He says in your ear, kissing your cheek before pulling away.

You stop breathing, all you can do is blink at him while your mind echoes his words.

“Shall we?”

Charles doesn’t wait for you, he resumes his walking anyway. It takes you a long time to snap out of it and follow him.

You can’t even remember what you are supposed to be doing today.

#3

It’s day two of pre-season testing in Bahrain.

You’re in the middle of talking with a reporter about the questions he can ask Charles when you are interrupted by a hand being placed on your lower back. You immediately recognize the perfume.

"Hey, I was looking for you." Charles says, fingers caressing the spot between your shirt and your trousers. His calloused hand drawing patters on your lower back shouldn't make you feel as flustered as you feel. It's not the first time he does it, so why can't you just act normal?

"Hey, Charles." The reporter says, drawing the Monégasque's attention. "Can I ask you just a few questions about second day of testing?" He doesn't need to ask him, you already agreed about it.

Charles look at you, silently asking if it's okay.

"Just testing, okay?" You tell the reporter, who nods in understanding, already moving in front of Charles alongside his camera man.

Charles squeezes your waist before giving two pats on your lower back, so low that he's almost touching your ass. You eyes widen and you take a sharp intake of breath. You really try to play it cool. But you can tell Charles noticed your reaction when you see the smirk on his beautiful, stupid face.

The reporter begins with the first question, Charles' eyes only snapping to him when the man draws his attention.

You don't listen to one single question, which is, you know, an idiotic mistake because being alert of what a reporter's asking is basically your job. But you find yourself looking at Charles' lips more than one time during the six minutes the interview lasts.

You can't do nothing more than to stand there frozen in place.

The reporter thanks Charles, that much you hear, but you still can't seem to snap back to the present. What is Charles doing? He's being extra touchy lately, not that it bothers you, but you can't seem to focus in anything when he has a hand on any part of your body. Then, add that intense gaze that, apparently, has reserved for you only.

Charles is definitely going to be the death of you.

"You seem to have your head in the clouds." Charles' accented voice is what draws you back to reality.

"What?"

What he does next is definitely something you were not expecting, not now, not even in a million years.

Charles cups your chin with his right hand, thumb brushing your bottom lip. If you weren't hyper aware of every little movement, you wouldn't have felt it.

Your gaze drops to his lips and Charles has the nerve to stick his tongue out to lick his lips. They look so wet and inviting, all you need to do is move an inch closer and lean in to—

"See something you like?"

You feel your heartbeat in your ears, so loud you're pretty sure everyone in Bahrain can hear it. Charles waits for your answer as you panic, replaying his words over, and over again for minutes or hours — you don't even know.

You take Charles' hand and guide it away from your face. It takes all the willpower inside of you to let go of his hand and run away from him.

#4

It wasn't a great start of the season. Everyone agrees on that. Even the boy stepping out of the Ferrari, who started the first race of the season in front row and had such a hard time trying to drive and secure a spot on the podium.

You are glad at least one Ferrari got there in the end. But you're not as happy as you'd be if Charles was the one standing there.

Charles takes his helmet and balaclava off, his messy hair standing in every direction while sweat runs down his face. You force yourself to look away.

He makes his way to you, given that you have his cap and rings. Charles really tries to smile at you, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

You know how disappointed he is. With himself and his team. Mostly with himself.

“Just a few questions and then you’ll be on your way to the hotel, okay?” Charles just nods, busy putting all his rings and bracelets on.

Charles feels like shit. All he wants to do is go back to the hotel and sleep, he doesn't even want to know what happened or how they can fix it for next week. He wants to sleep.

"Hey," You stand a little closer, not thinking about anything but trying to make him talk, say anything to pull him out of his head. "It's just the first race of the season. There are a lot more to go." You rub the back of his neck, feeling the hairs there stand up.

Charles closes his eyes and lets his head fall forward. So, you take it as a good sing to keep rubbing and massaging.

Charles groans when you rub between his neck and shoulder, a very sensitive spot for him. He slowly opens his eyes again, looking at you from beneath his eyelashes.

"Come on, let's finish with this and get you to bed." You tentatively slide your hand over his shoulder and left side of his body, stopping at his waist to wrap an arm around it.

For the first time since the race finished, you see a smile forming on his lips. When you make eye contact, you know he has the perfect answer for it and, for the looks of it, it's definitely going to leave you flustered.

"If you wanted me in your bed that badly, all you had to do was ask."

It definitely makes you flush furiously, but you decide not to say anything. Mostly because you don't know what to say. Charles has been saying all these things for a very long time now and you don't know what it means, what he's playing at.

You let go of Charles when you reach the reporter, moving a little to the side to give them some space. The reporter knows what to ask but you still are on high alert, she's known for asking rude and out of place questions.

At first everything goes alright, so, you use that time to answer some messages and check out some emails. Until what the woman says next, makes your heart drop.

"You say you are capable, but it is your fault alm—" You don't let her finish, you interrupt the interview immediately by standing in front of Charles, like trying to shield him from the hurtful words of an unprofessional reporter.

"I'll make sure you receive a fine for that." It's all you say before blindly reaching for Charles.

You take his hand, dragging him out of there. You don't stop for nothing, not when a reporter asks for an interview, not when fans approach Charles to ask for pictures.

You keep walking and walking until you are in front of Charles' driver room. Your heart is hammering inside your chest, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

"I'm going to talk to—"

Charles grabs your shoulders, turning you around so you're looking at him. "Don't worry about it. You know I don't care about what they say."

His words make you angry.

"But I care!" You exclaim, immediately regretting it. The corners of Charles' mouth go downwards, and he steps closer. "She deserves that fine."

"I know she deserves it and she will get it," His hands trail over your arms, stopping at your wrists for a second before holding your hands. "but right now I need a hug."

You blink up at him.

"Would you hug me?"

He doesn't need to ask twice. You are moving before you actually process his words, probably because you've been thinking about hugging him since the first time he announced over the radio how the brakes where not responding to him.

Sliding your hand around his shoulders comes like a second nature to you, like is something you've done your whole life. You don't care that he's drenched in sweat, you hide your face in the crook of his neck anyways. And it's then that you learn how much you like the mixture of his scent with the sweat of racing for over two hours.

Charles wraps his arms around your waist, hugging you tightly against his body. It's then that he learns how well you fit against his body. Like you belong there. He knows you belong in his arms.

#5

Charles finished third.

It's his first podium of the season.

You wait by the side but he doesn't see you. He has the most pretty and bright smile on his face as he removes the balaclava from his head. He has the most pretty and bright smile when he greets and congratulates Max and Checo.

And you really think that his smiles widens when he finally looks to the side, right where you are alongside his Ferrari team.

Charles makes his way to his team. Everyone is so happy cheering for him and congratulating him for his first podium. Everyone is happy.

But no one can't he as happy as you are.

Not when he sees you for the first time and rushes to hug you. It's quick, not enough, but they're pulling him away for the post-race interview. He needs to go up on that podium and make everyone proud.

*

You’re pretty sure you took like a dozen pictures of Charles on the podium. The ones where he's looking down at his team are your favorites because it looks like he's looking at you.

Post-race Charles is your favorite kind of Charles. But post-race Charles on the podium... that has to be what being in heaven feels like.

You laugh as you see him approaching hospitality with his trophy and champagne, and a broad smile spread over his face.

He's surrounded by people in a matter of seconds, as wells as Ollie by his side who can't seem to stop smiling. You're very proud of them.

When you see a few reporters approaching, you take into action.

The second Charles sees you, he's forgetting about anything and everyone around him. All he wants is to hug you and tell you how well and right it felt, but there are so many people that he has to settle with you grabbing the hem of his race suit to make him walk into hospitality, away from everyone.

"Go take a shower. Your team wants to celebrate, even Carlos wants to go." You smile up at him.

You don't know how to describe the expression on his face, so, you simply don't.

He snaps out of a his trance and makes his way to his driver room, but when you call his name he stops, turning around so fast that his neck starts to hurt.

"I'm so proud of you, Charlie."

Charles doesn't care if the trophy or the champagne bottle breaks, he just let them fall to the floor and runs to you, lifting you in his arms.

You giggle, feeling light as a feather. Like you're actually on cloud nine.

"Charlie!" Andrea's voice startles the both of you.

You are forced to pull away, but Charles leaves his hand on your waist, not letting you go completely.

"Come on, hurry up! We want to celebrate."

Andrea doesn't bat an eye, he doesn't care that he found you and Charles in a compromising position — kind of? well, it definitely is unprofessional — and that you still are very close to each other.

Charles groans and lets you go. You miss his touch already.

"Don't drink too much, okay?"

"As if I would let him." Andrea says, rolling his eyes.

"I'm a grown man!" Charles screams before shutting the door of his room.

+1

You're watching a movie in bed — wrapped in a hotel bathrobe, freshly out of the shower, with a delicious lotion on your body and feeling like a pampered baby — when there's a knock on your door.

When you open the door, you find a disheveled and out of breathe Charles standing there, leaning against the opposite wall.

"Charles?" You ask, confused.

You look to both sides of the hallway but nobody else is there.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were out celebrating."

"I was—" He says, breathing heavily. "I was but then I just — I realized that I didn't want to be there."

"Okay?" You're not getting any of what he's saying, more confused than ever. "Are you drunk?"

"No! I barely drank anything. It was just a glass."

"Then," You shrug, looking behind you into the room. "I was watching a movie. Do you... want to come in?"

You still don't know why he knocked on your door, but you are not letting him out in the hallway.

Charles accepts the invitation. Just not in the way you would've thought.

It takes you a second to notice a pair soft lips against your own. But when you finally register that you are being kissed, Charles is pulling away from you, a shy smile on his face.

"What are you doing?" You ask, trying to find some coherent words in your fuzzy brain.

Charles' face falls, shoulder slumping slightly. "Oh, shit. I'm so sorry." He starts rambling, moving his hands in the air. "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking properly. I thought—we had, I mean... You and—"

You couldn't take it anymore. You needed to take him out of his misery. That's definitely the only reason why you crashed your lips with his, pressing yourself against his body.

Charles moves quickly, walking you backwards into the room and closing the door with his foot.

You sigh into the kiss. A sigh that says finally.

"I think," You whisper against his lips, gasping for air. But Charles keeps on assaulting your lips. "we should talk ab—"

Charles groans pulling away, just enough to talk, lips brushing against yours with every breath. "We could. Or I could show you all the things I've been dreaming on doing to you, and we can talk later."

Your heart starts thumping so fast that your breath hitches in your throat. Charles takes your silence, and your body's reaction, as a yes.

This time, Charles takes his time. He cups your cheek with one hand, thumb caressing your cheekbone so softly — as if you’re made of glass and could break at any moment — and sliding lower, the pad of his finger brushing against your bottom lip.

"You're so beautiful." He whispers, gaze fixed on your plump lips.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since…” You try try to think about it, to remember the very first time you thought about Charles being more than a friend. But it seems like it has always been that way.

“Forever.” Charles finishes for you.

Yes! Your insides scream.

“Would you let me show you?”

You frown, titling your hear to the side. “What?”

“How much I want you.”

There’s no need to verbally say yes, you find that is so much better if you show him. So, you kiss him.

Kissing Charles feels like walking in a soft, pillowy cloud, like everything is falling back into place, like things are how they always should have been.

There is warmth blossoming in your chest, fireworks exploding all around you as Charles leans in closer, lips exploring each other for the first time. You hold onto Charles' shoulder as if you're gonna fall and wake up, realize that this was just a dream. You don't want it to be a dream.

You let him guide you to the bed as his hands rest on your hips, wrinkling the bathrobe with his hands.

His lips are soft yet the kiss is demanding. Your lips part slightly, allowing Charles' tongue to slip inside and explore your mouth.

When the back of your knees hit the mattress, he pulls away. His pupils are dilated and his breathing erratic. "You don't—" He sighs, closing his eyes as if trying and ground himself. Charles takes your hand, silently asking for permission and, when you nod, guides it to his crotch, making you feel how hard he is. "You don't even know the effect you have on me."

Charles doesn't give you time to answer, not even to think about anything but how much you want to kiss him, and feel him, and be his.

"Can I unfasten this?" He asks, lips trailing kisses down your neck. You nod your approval, but Charles shakes his head. "I need words, baby."

"Yes," You don't recognize your own voice, it's feels strange to your ears. "Yes, you can."

Charles smiles, grazing his teeth along your neck, nipping and sucking along the way. You moan when he sucks right above your pulse point.

He takes his time unfastening your bathrobe, letting it fall slowly the floor. In seconds, you're completely bare in front of him. You should feel ashamed, a part of you actually feels embarrassed to be naked in front on a man — in front of Charles. But right now, desire and longing are coursing through your veins, clouding your mind. Your body screams for Charles.

Charles hands are soft on your skin, he splays them on your chest, feeling the thumping of your heart; it makes him smile.

"Would you lay down for me?" He purrs. And who are you to say no?

With shaky legs you climb onto the bed, lying down against the pillows. You can still hear the movie playing in the background, but you couldn't care less, not right now.

You can only watch as Charles removes every piece of clothing from his body. You knew Charles was well toned, you have seen Charles without a shirt, but seeing him here in your room, in a whole different context, makes you close your legs and lift your hips from the bed, searching for something, anything that only Charles can give you.

He rubs his hands up your legs, rubbing your thighs, as he climbs on top of you. His lips find yours one more time, your breath quivering.

"So pretty." Charles grunts, basking in your beauty. It lasts only a couple of seconds because you hide behind your hands. "No need to hide, baby." He pulls your hands away, sliding them over your collarbone, stopping on your chest and grabbing your breasts.

You arch your back against his touch, moans spilling from your mouth and filling the room.

"So good, so, so good." You blurt out, getting lost in the pleasure his hands are giving you, pinching and squeezing your breasts. One of his hands is replaced for his mouth, and you have to force yourself to open your eyes to see the view of Charles on top of you, making you come undone with his mouth.

His left hand leaves your breast as his mouth keeps the assault on your breast, he slowly lowers it to part your legs, making you squirm.

You've never been this wet before, and Charles notices the moment his fingers make contact with your cunt. Charles begins to rub circles on your throbbing clit, a desperate whine escaping your lips.

"Please," You beg, the only word leaving your lips over and over again.

Charles takes pity on you, knowing exactly what you need. So, he gives it to you; one of his fingers slips in, causing you to buck your hips involuntarily.

"So good for me." Charles croons, taking your lips with his own, swallowing all your moans. "You think you can take my cock, pretty girl?" He asks, slipping in another finger, pressing them upward. Your brain feels fuzzy, but in such a good way. You don't need to be asked twice, a yes leaves you lips immediately as you grind your hips desperately into his hand.

"I can, Charles—please I can take it." You moan, making Charles slow his movements.

Charles pulls out his fingers, and you whine desperately at the loss. "I got you, baby." But then a thought crosses his mind and he curses under his breath, closing his eyes for a second. "I don't—shit I don't have a condom."

You make grabby hands, making him lean forward so you can touch him. You cup his face with your hands, eyes finding his green ones. There's sweat on his forehead, his face flushed, and you think that post-race Charles and bedroom Charles are definitely battling to win first place.

"We're both clean, I know." You graze your fingers over his pecs, making him shudder. "Just—please, Charlie. I need you."

Who is he to say no to you?

The mere thought of fucking you bare is enough to send his mind reeling.

Charles aligns himself between your legs, the tip of his cock gathering your wetness and making you both moan at the feeling.

You dig your nails in his shoulder as he slowly starts to bury himself inside of you. Charles leans to kiss you, and is messy and wet, tongues and spit mix together as you tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling ever so slightly, which makes him moan against your mouth. So you do it again.

Charles kisses you with so much desperation, desire consuming you both. He bottoms out and you can't reciprocate the kiss anymore, not when he stars slamming his hips, setting an agonizing pace.

Charles fucks you into the bed wincing as he feels you bite his shoulder, a poor attempt of trying not to scream and let the whole hotel floor know what you are doing.

"How does it feel? Is that what you wanted, uh?" He groans, brushing a strand of hair out of your sweaty face.

"Yeah, feels so good, Char. So good." Your whole body is burning, you feel so deliciously filled.

Charles bends your legs, pushing them against your chest as he finds a new angle to keep on fucking you. He starts thrusting faster, holding onto your legs so hard you know there will be bruises tomorrow.

It's too much. You don't even have time nor words to warn him before you are coming, clenching around Charles' cock.

"So tight. So. Fucking. Tight." Charles whispers, pace faltering as he feels his own climax approaching. He keeps thrusting into you, chasing his own orgasm.

You are a moaning, whimpering mess, and you let Charles use you as much as he likes, you let it know that over and over again.

"That's it, baby. 'm gonna come now," Those are Charles' final words as he pulls out, pumping himself a few more times until he's painting your chest with his cum.

Charles plops down on the bed next to you, both panting and completely exhausted.

"Are you okay?" He asks in a hoarse voice.

You turn to look at him, fingers playing with his cum on your chest. The only thing you can do is nod, too exhausted to even to talk.

"What? Did I fuck your brains out?" Charles teases, leaning in to leave a chaste kiss to your lips. It's so innocent and soft, the total opposite of what you did just moments ago.

"Shut up!" You breathe out, giggling. There is still a buzzing in your ears and a tingling sensation in your cunt. But you feel good.

"Come on," He says, standing up and reaching for your hands.

You frown, standing on shaky legs. He teases you some more and you end up pushing him away.

"What are we doing?"

"Taking a bath," He explains, tugging at your hand. "We need to clean you up."

"I just took a shower, this is all your fault." You complain, his green eyes boring into you.

"You liked it." It's not a question.

He tugs at your hand again and you follow, you really would follow Charles to the end of the world. Charles can't hide the big, stupid smile on his face. "You said you were watching a movie, so, we are going to watch a movie."

© verstappen-cult, 2024 — do not repost, translate or claim any of my works as your own.

[fayes-fics]

It's That Time Of Year

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: It's that time of year... when you could use a fake boyfriend.

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, oral sex (m to f), vaginal sex, dirty talk, hand as gag, quiet sex, sex in childhood bedroom. Fake dating, family dynamics, lots of feelings, friends to lovers.

Word Count: 11.3 k (eek Im sorry)

Authors Note: Here's my tropetacular winter 2023 Benepic! Request fill for @broooookiecrisp (HERE), who wanted fake boyfriend trope with Benedict accompanying the reader to the USA to spend Christmas with her family. I hope you like it, my dear. Thanks to @colettebronte for the read-through. Enjoy and happy holidays! 🎄

December 20th 

“Thank you,” Benedict clinks his champagne glass against yours, “for everything.”

You blush and look down from his intense blue-eyed gaze, staring instead at the untied bowtie around his collar that seems almost more attractive than when fastened.

“It was nothing,” you demure.

“It was not nothing!” he scoffs, giving you a gentle shoulder bump as you both lean on the high-top table.

“Alright, it was my job then,” you modify, giving him a modest smile as you hotch slightly - beautiful though they are, you cannot wait to take off these high-heels.

“And you are excellent at your job,” he asserts before downing the rest of his champagne and refilling both glasses from the bottle before you. 

He is lingering much longer than you thought he might, long after all his family and all the guests have left. The event was over a while ago, and all around you, the venue staff are clearing tables and stacking chairs.

Tonight was indeed a rousing success. Your first-time event managing the end-of-year fundraising gala for the Bridgerton Family Foundation, they hit a new record amount raised. Standing next to you is the newly minted CEO of that organisation, Benedict Bridgerton, looking far too dashing in his custom-fitted tuxedo. Empathetic and naturally in tune with the needs of others, he is indeed the perfect replacement to run the charitable arm of the family business now that his mother has decided to retire. In previous years, you both took deputy roles - him to his mother, you to your old boss - this was the first year you both stepped up to the plate to run things, and if you do say so yourself, you have both done an excellent job of it. A delightful working partnership built on years of friendship since meeting at university as an exchange student.

“You deserve a long Christmas break after this,” he breezes.

“Going home to the States in a couple of days,” you nod. “I’m both looking forward to it and dreading it in equal measure, to be honest,” you confess, this second glass of champagne acting like a truth serum. You didn't want to or even get the chance to drink earlier, but a little tipple to round off the rewarding night is lovely, especially in present company.

“How come?” he seems genuinely curious, his forehead knitting adorably. Of course, he wouldn't understand; he comes from an idyllic family.

“I am very much the black sheep,” you shrug, twirling a finger absent-mindedly around the rim of your glass. “Being childless, unmarried and single at thirty-three in a midwestern family is unheard of and thus the subject of much ridicule.”

“Wow,” his eyebrows shoot up, “that's…,” he hesitates.

“Judgemental? Parochial? Small-minded?” you supply dryly on his behalf.

“I was going to say traditional… but sure, those work too,” he chuckles.

You giggle a little, then sigh. “So a mixed blessing, really. It's nice to see them all; I just wish they were a bit less them, you know?” you gesture vaguely into the air.

“A boyfriend would really take the heat off?” he queries.

“Hah!” you can’t contain the bubble of amusement at the mere thought. “Chance would be a fine thing. But, yes, that likely would take the edge off the worst of their barbs.” 

“Well, I’m at a loose end,” he comments, seemingly changing the subject. “The family is spread to the four corners of the globe this Christmas. Mum is going to Costa Rica for a retired ladies' trip with Lady D. Don't ask,” he adds amusingly, holding up his hands. “Kate and Ant are taking their kids to Lapland, and my various siblings are travelling or staying with partners. Weirdly, it’ll be our first Christmas apart. At least we will all reunite for New Year's at Aubrey Hall.”

“Aww, that sounds nice,” you offer neutrally.

“What I'm saying, y/n, is…,” he continues slowly as if waiting for the penny to drop, “if you need a fake boyfriend, I am available. It’s the very least I can do after all of this,” he explains, gesturing around the room. “Plus, it might be novel to experience a typical American Christmas,” he shrugs casually.

You can’t help it; you gape at him. Completely floored. The idea is utterly left-of-field and yet so exciting your heart pounds. If there is one downside to working so closely with Benedict these last few months, it has been the exponential growth of your inappropriate feelings for him. He is so sweet and handsome; no one would be immune, frankly. It was bad enough when you were at university together; now, well, it’s slightly lethal. Your mind boggles at him playing the role of a doting boyfriend; your body, however, seems very enthused, a warm flush creeping over your skin at the mere thought.

He chuckles nervously, a likely reaction to your stunned silence. “Listen, it was just a silly suggestion; you don’t have t-” 

“Yes!” you squeak, interrupting and grabbing his jacket cuff boldly when he seems to be withdrawing. “Please,” you add almost as an afterthought, unsure how to thank someone for such a generous offer.

His face breaks out into the most handsome grin.

“Excellent! Then, it's a date!” he exclaims, tilting his glass towards yours again. “Well, a fake date,” he amends with a lopsided grin that makes your stomach flip.

Oh god. What am I letting myself in for?!

___

December 23rd

“Are you sure about this? You can still back out...” you offer, fidgeting in the bag-drop queue at Heathrow three days later. 

“Please. What else am I going to do? Sit around my flat, billy-no-mates, and eat a sad M&S ready meal?! You are literally rescuing me,” he counters, probably exaggerating for your amusement.

Very much following the motto of not looking a gift horse in the mouth, you had texted Benedict your flight details that same night, and he has made it all happen in the hours since. Somehow, he managed to wave the Brigerton magic wand and secure what was probably the last seat on your direct flight two days before Christmas. Unluckily for him, he has to slum it in economy with the rest of the plebs like yourself. He couldn't even get a seat near you; he's stuck down the back, in the middle, near the galley.

“How about we swap seats at least?” you offer, guilt creeping in, looking at your printed boarding pass. Not only is Benedict doing you a favour, but he’s also pretzelling his tall self into an uncomfortable seat. The least you can do is offer him your aisle seat.

“I’ll be fine,” he dismisses, waving a hand and fishing out his passport as you are called to the desk.

“Travelling together?” the pretty, painted lady breezes at you, holding out a perfectly manicured hand to take your passport and ticket. Then you watch her practically melt as she claps eyes on Benedict.

Tsk. Typical.

“Not exactl…” you begin.

“Yes,” he cuts in with a winning smile. “Sadly, we couldn't get seats together, though,” he pouts a touch theatrically.

“Oh! Well, let me see what I can do about that… It is Christmas, after all,” she winks at him conspiratorially, then taps on her keyboard.

A few minutes later, your bags are checked in, and you are upgraded to Premium Economy. The lady was apologetic that you still couldn't get seats together but a row apart instead. You are pretty sure if there was space, the handsome bastard would have gotten you upgraded to business without even trying.

Oh, to be a pretty Bridgerton.

___

Twelve hours later, you are in a taxi, tired but grateful for the additional legroom on the flight, even managing a few hours of light napping. Benedict is similarly sleepy, both of your heads lolling around as the car zips down the road. By the time you reach your family home, it’s evening, but to your body clocks, it's the middle of the night.

As you slide out of the taxi, a long arm wraps around your shoulders, and you startle.

“Best to look convincing from the off,” Benedict mutters as he throws his duffle bag on top of your suitcase and trundles them up the path with his other hand.

You nod and dutifully wrap your arm around his waist over his puffer coat, slightly annoyed at how good it feels, as if your arm belongs there. 

“This is so American it's almost a cliche,” he jests, looking up at your parents' house, holiday string lights twinkling in the dusk.

You giggle at his remark and bump him with your hip, quickly escalating into a friendly tussle. He hauls you into his arms and swings you in front of him.

“What are you doing?” you whisper, your limbic system alive at the feel of him pressed into you even behind heavy coats.

“Just go with it,” he responds with an easy confidence and that dazzling smile. As if in slow motion, his lips descend, and you reel as they lightly brush yours, an explosion behind your ribs at this passing touch.

Over your shoulder, you hear the front door opening and realise it’s for show, for a particular audience. You are grateful for the forethought but completely discombobulated from this partial kiss.

How am I going to survive a week of this?

“Mrs y/l/n, Mr y/l/n,” he calls as you linger in his arms, not wanting to turn around just yet.

“Well, hello there. This must be the famous Mr Bridgerton,” your dad's opening line. “We have heard so very little about you. Before yesterday anyway,” he adds, already twisting the knife in early as you pull up to the porch.

“That may well be because I asked her not to,” Benedict rebuts smoothly, releasing you to give a firm handshake. “I love the element of surprise,” he adds with a smile you have seen him deploy before, a weapon’s grade charm offensive.

Your mother’s face is a picture. “Well, well, we certainly didn't expect someone quite so handsome to accompany our daughter,” she drawls, verging on flirtatious. 

Benedict drapes his arm around your shoulders and nuzzles your hair. “Whyever not? She is simply wonderful,” he sighs, his hot breath tickling your scalp before letting you go again.

Damn, he is good at this.

“Hello, mom, dad…” you greet politely before moving in for a short hug from both.

“Happy holidays, darling. Let's get inside,” your mother fusses.

Within a few minutes, after some casual pleasantries are exchanged as you remove coats, you watch your mother give Benedict a tour of their home, including, to your chagrin, your childhood bedroom, which is a time capsule from your teen years. At least the dog-eared band posters have been taken down. As you drift back to the living room, Christmas music plays from a speaker behind the tree. Your family loves to go all out on the holiday decorating. It does feel festive and cosy, though.

“It will be a full house with all of our kids and their spouses staying tonight. So there are no spare rooms. You are on the sofabed in the den, Mr Bridgerton,” your dad comments, gesturing to the room next door; the message very clear.

“That's fine,” Benedict huffs genially, “and please, call me Ben.” 

“I might actually head to bed now,” you admit over a stifled yawn. “My body thinks it's 2am.”

“Same,” Benedict chimes.

“Oh, you should stay up, try to get into the timezone,” your mother clucks, always with an opinion about how you are not doing things how she would. “Ben has not yet been introduced to Tucker, Travis, Tegan and their spouses. They are all still out at dinner…” she indicates, listing your siblings and looking most perturbed at your decision.

“Tomorrow, Mom,” you assure.

“Alright,” she capitulates with a sigh, mostly when she sees Benedict yawn behind his hand. 

“Goodnight…” you offer to all and go to leave the room, but as you get to the door, Benedict stops you with an arm shooting out.

“Don't I get a goodnight kiss, my love?” he pouts.

At first, you look up at him shocked, then a flick of his eyes over your shoulder makes you realise he is continuing the ruse. 

“Maybe,” you flirt back, jetlag somehow making you daring. An ideal excuse to be coquettish, even though your parents likely can't hear your exchange above the music playing. They can certainly see your body language, though.

“Oh, I see. What do I have to do to earn it?” Benedict plays along, a dangerous smile and a large hand low on your lumbar spine, pulling you into him. 

“Tell me you will miss not sleeping next to me,” you boldly request, a little cheeky smile tugging at your lips to see how far he will let you push this.

A long finger swipes a tendril of hair out of your face and behind your ear, a thumb curling under your chin.

“Every night I'm not sleeping next to you is my misfortune,” he replies, sounding wistful, his eyes seeming to burn with something approaching sincerity. It makes your stomach swoop like you are standing on a cliff edge on a windy day.

“Good answer,” you stumble in acknowledgement, pushing up onto your tip toes, heart in your mouth.

“I do what I can,” he answers against your lips and then draws you into a slow, plush kiss. 

His mouth doesn't open, but it doesn't matter; the hint of wetness on his pursed lips has your body reacting, a charge ripping through your being. A sudden yearning for him to push you against the wall and plunder your mouth with his tongue. When he withdraws, you know your pupils are blown wide, but you are taken aback that his are, too; the dampness on his lip shines in the glow of the Christmas tree. 

Your father pointedly clearing his throat breaks the spell, and you jump apart as if burned.

“Sorry,” you both mumble and Benedict pulls the most adorable ‘oopsie, my bad’ face. 

“Goodnight, y/n,” he says tacitly.

“Goodnight, Ben.”

As you climb the stairs slowly, exhaling the breath it feels like you have been holding since he grabbed your arm, you know that kiss will be replaying in your head for weeks. If he keeps this up, you may well combust. 

This was a fantastically bad idea.

___

December 24th

You awaken on Christmas Eve when it’s still dark outside. A glance at your phone says it’s right after 4:30am. Already knowing you won’t get any more sleep, you throw open your case and grab slippers and a hoodie, deciding to head down to make a coffee.

You almost jump out of your skin when you see a silhouette sitting at the kitchen table.

“Sorry,” Benedict atones as he sees you clutching your chest, “time zones.”

“Same… coffee?”

“Please…”

As you potter around, making a pot as quiet as possible, he scrolls on his phone. You join him once it’s brewing.

“How is the sofa bed?” you ask, wincing guiltily.

“I've slept on worse,” he obfuscates jovially. 

“Sorry, if I’d known there wouldn't be a spare bed, I would have booked a hotel,” you apologise, rubbing your temples.

“No, it’s tradition to stay with family at Christmas,” he rebukes with a smile.

“Thank you again for all this,” you mutter, shoving your hands into your hoodie pockets. “Have you done this fake boyfriend thing before?” your question is only partially in jest.

“No, what makes you say that?” he huffs bemused.

“You, uhh, have been doing an excellent acting job,” you shrug. “Thank you, by the way. I don’t think they quite believe I could land you, but I’d argue you have been very convincing regardless….”

“Don't say that,” he frowns, cutting in. 

“You don’t think they buy it?” concerned things may not be working as well as you believed.

“Not that,” he waves a dismissive hand, “the other thing. Why wouldn’t they believe you could ‘land me’?” he rounds off with a quotation gesture.

You bark a laugh. “Have you seen you?  

“Stop,” he seems genuinely ticked. “That is all shit. I would be lucky to have you,” he mumbles, not meeting your eye, staring out of the French doors into the inky blackness. It won’t be sunrise for another three hours this time of year. “I am lucky, in fact, to have you as a friend,” he adds, his thoughts sounding far away.

“Well, same. I still have no idea how to repay you for all of this…” you admit.

“I already said, none needed. Why would I not choose a little foreign adventure with a good friend when the alternative is Christmas alone?!” he scoffs as the coffee machine beeps.

Unsure quite what to say, you get up to make a cup, knowing without asking how he takes his. Retaking your seat, you pick at the idea again.

“I think we should strategise…” you mutter into your mug.

“About what?”

“The plan. Now you have some inkling of what they are like, maybe we should talk tactics…?” you trail off, not sure even yourself where you are going with this.

“It's simple, isn't it?” he counters, taking a gulp of coffee. “We hold hands, hug and kiss occasionally, you know, act like a couple….” he shrugs as if it's the simplest thing in the world. Maybe it is to him; his heart probably doesn't pound when you so much as touch.

“Okay, well, I guess we can improvise. But let me know if it all gets too much. Send me a secret code or something,” you offer.

“Like a safe word?” he chuckles.

“Something like that,” you allow, trying to mask the heat you feel creeping up your sternum at the very thought.

Just then, his phone vibrates on the table.

“Sorry, it's Ant. I should probably take this,” he apologises, standing up.

You swallow a sip of your coffee, trying not to think too hard about anything, when suddenly he leans over your shoulder from behind, the phone still buzzing in his hand.

“By the way, my safeword is Byron,” he rumbles silkily into your ear. “Not that I’ll ever need it,” he adds, walking away casually while you try to bring your heart rate back to normal.

Dear God, this man is going to kill me.

___

You take your coffee back to bed when Benedict doesn't reappear after a few minutes and end up passing out again for a couple of hours. By the time you are awake again, the house is a hive of noise and activity. You pass Kallie, your oldest brother's wife, in the hallway, and she punches your arm lightly.

“Welcome home, and well fucking done!” she winks, and you frown, confused what she’s talking about. She jerks a thumb over her shoulder. “That delicious slice of Britishness in there,” she elucidates. 

Shit! It just occurs to you that by falling back asleep, you left Benedict alone to fend for himself in the melee of your family. The poor man must be mauled alive by now.

So when you enter the kitchen, the last thing you expect to see is the sight before you. Benedict, with an apron on, tossing American-style pancakes like a pro on the hotplate while your family chatters around him, applauding as he serves up another perfect-looking batch.

“Darling!” he calls when he sees you. “Come here!” he exclaims warmly, holding out his arms.

Unsure what else to do and powerless to resist the opportunity, you walk over and allow yourself to be swept into his arms. He presses a kiss onto your cheek. He smells like butter and syrup, and you want to burrow into him.

“Sorry I left you alone in the lion's den,” you say close to his ear so only he can hear.

He smiles into your hair. “They are fine, honestly; I can handle it,” he assures mutely.

You pull back and swipe a tiny fleck of batter from his face, enjoying the round of his cheekbone as you do. What makes an odd weight land on your ribs is how his pupils dilate fractionally as you lick the dot off your thumb.

“Delicious, Mr Bridgerton,” again, unable to stop yourself from flirting with him now you have the excuse.

Something in him looks almost wild as your gaze locks.

“Get a room!” your brother, Tucker, jeers from the table.

Part of you wants to sass back some version of ‘apparently we’re not allowed’ and ‘I wish’, but all you can do is smile at Benedict as he mirrors your expression.

“More, please, Mr Brid-un,” your youngest nephew toddles over, holding up his plate expectantly.

Benedict finally looks away and ruffles the little kid’s hair. “Certainly, Brandon,” he offers warmly.

“What I find fascinating is how a proper British gentleman knows how to make good old-fashioned American pancakes,” your mother pipes up from her seat at the kitchen island.

“Oh, my nanny was an American,” Benedict waves the spatula as he pours more batter onto the hotplate and begins a new batch.

“Your grandmother was from the colonies?” Travis mocks, feigning outrage.

“Oh no… not that sort. My umm nanny nanny, as in the lady who looked after us as kids,” he explains, looking somewhat sheepish.

“Shhiittttt,” your sister Teegan drawls, looking up from her phone for the first time. “You’re like actual rich, huh?”

“Language Tee!” your mother warns from across the room.

Teegan pulls a face and then turns her attention back to Benedict, awaiting his response.

“Please, can you all not be so… y/l/n,” you cut in, holding up your hands to the gathered family. “For once, can you all just…?” you taper off, hoping they will read between the lines.

“How’d you two meet?” Dean, Teegan’s husband, calls out, ignoring your plea completely.

“We actually met at university many years ago,” Benedict explains, flipping the pancakes as they bubble. “But we started working together last year on various projects, and well, we grew much closer.” 

So far, so truthful.

“Then, well, one memorable day, when we successfully wrapped up a project we had worked on so hard together, I realised she meant so much more to me than a friend,” Benedict continues, sounding so sincere you almost believe it yourself. A tiny flutter in your chest that the project he refers to could be the Gala. “I kept it to myself for a while, but late one night, I couldn't resist, and I confessed my feelings. I am the luckiest man alive because it turns out she felt the same. And, well… here we are,” he concludes, shooting you a look so loaded you forget it's a yarn for a few seconds.

“Friends-to-lovers, I stan,” Claire, your other sister-in-law, comments. She always has her head stuck in some romance book.

As Benedict serves the next batch, the focus of the room is pulled to your nieces and nephews as they overload their pancakes with toppings, and you are grateful to be out of the glare of the family spotlight temporarily.

“How did I do?” Benedict murmurs into your ear as he sidles up next to you, wrapping an arm around your back. There's a tinge of pride in his voice. He knows he has them eating out the palm of his hand, and fuck if it isn't so attractive.

“I should tip you…” you joke, not wanting to give away quite how flustered you are.

“I accept payment in kisses,” he breathes, his smouldering stare sliding down to your lips as you crane your head to look up at him. 

It's only a few minutes later, as you grab a pancake from the stack that you realise he didn't say that at volume anyone else could hear… it was purely for you. And you have no earthly idea what to do with that thought.

___

The rest of Christmas Eve passes with your family’s usual rituals, with Benedict beside you, playing the doting boyfriend to perfection. Each brush of his makes your adrenaline spike—a divine torture. 

While dinner is cooking in the afternoon, your parents usher most of you out of the house for a walk in the bracing cold to build up an appetite. And so you stroll, Benedict’s gloved hand in yours.

“So Ben, is everyone in London not married with kids, or is it only my sister who can't seem to figure it out despite her old age?” your sister Teegan digs as she pushes the buggy next to you.

“Well, we are a similar age, and I'm not married with kids either,” he points out breezily.

“Yeah, but…” she halts, realising there is no response she can think of. “Wait, why don't you have kids yet? Don’t you want a family? I thought you said you had lots of brothers and sisters?”

“I do come from a big family, yes. And I suppose one day, yes, I do want kids of my own,” he adds, seemingly honest as you listen intently, your heartbeat in your ears, “but I feel no rush yet.”

“So you’re not knocking this one up anytime soon then?” your brother Tucker stirs, checking your shoulder roughly from the other side.

You can't help but feel a blush darken your cheeks at that and refuse to look up at Benedict. You open your mouth to tell Tucker to shut up, but Benedict cuts across you.

“If anyone has come close to being someone I would consider having kids with, it's your sister,” he admits casually, as if talking about the weather. But for you, it feels like you are back on that proverbial cliff edge about to dive over, heart racing. It takes every fibre of your being to keep walking and acting naturally, grateful for the gloves between your joined hands; not sure you could handle his skin touching yours as he says such things.

“Ooooooo,” Tucker singsongs, “going to the chapel, and they’re gonna get mar...”

“Cut it out!” you grouse.

He peels a laugh, then jogs on ahead to catch up with Dean.

“I’m sorry about that,” your apology hushed as you keep walking, Teegan falling behind you to deal with one of her kids' tantrums.

“Why? It's an inevitable question when you meet your other half’s family,” he points out, squeezing your hand reassuringly as you wander as a pair.

“Yes, but… it's a bit much, considering they just met you hours ago. They are intentionally stirring the pot. Trying to scare you off,” you frown, realising what they are doing as you say it aloud.

Benedict stops walking, and it makes you halt, too. “Nothing could scare me off,” he assures, his face soft with understanding as he cups your jaw. His cold, damp glove is a balm to your flushed, embarrassed face.

“Right,” you nod, “cos this is all fake…” you add quietly, trying to hide the defeated tone.

“Anyone who knows how great you are would not be scared off by the idea of a future with you,” Benedict says soothingly, a thumb stroking your cheekbone.

“Well, when you meet a candidate who fits that bill, send them over to me, yeah?” you quip brittly as you look off into the distance, unable to meet his hazy, sincere eyes.

His response is interrupted by your niece tugging on his coat.

“Uncle Ben, can I sit on your shoulders? Please? Daddy already has Brandon, and my feet are so tired,” she whines in that dramatic way only little ones do.

Benedict laughs and releases you. “Certainly, Sofia,” he smiles as he hauls her onto his shoulders, uncaring of the mess her little boots smear onto his coat as he does so.

“Faster! Go faster!” she orders, and genially, Benedict obeys, moving ahead and breaking into a light jog as she giggles loudly and holds onto his chin.

You try to ignore the flutter in your chest at the sight of him with a kid on his shoulders, as if he were born to do so.

This was such a mistake…

___

“When are you moving home, y/n?”

You knew this was likely coming. The question your mum has to ask every time you visit. And every year, your answer is the same.

“I don't think I will be, Mom,” you explain calmly as you pass the plate of peas to your sister, not wanting to look at Benedict, who sits opposite you at the long table. “I love London. It feels like home,” you add with a shrug.

“Yes, but this living abroad thing is supposed to be a phase—a young person thing. You are mid-thirties now. It's time you settled down,” she frowns.

“I am settled,” you reply neutrally, “I have a place of my own that I love.”

“Yes, but an apartment, sorry ‘flat’,” she self-corrects sarcastically, “that’s not a real home. A home is a house with a garden in a safe town with good schools for your children,” she lectures.

This line of discussion used to annoy and rile you up, but you have become weary of it over the years. The rest of your family is tucking into their food but listening smugly, having towed the traditional family line.

“I think home can be many things,” Benedict pipes up from across the table. “A home is about where you feel safe and secure, surely Mrs y/l/n?”

“Well, yes…” your mother falters, slightly taken aback by his interruption but still charmed by his effortless congeniality.

“Then I would say your daughter’s home is London,” he smiles disarmingly. “You should see her there; I encourage you to visit sometime. She has a home she has made beautiful. She has many friends, and she is amazing at her job. She is happy. I, for one, cannot imagine her anywhere else.”

Again, you can feel your heart beating at his sweet words, even knowing they are all for show; it's lovely that someone has your back for once, defending your choices.

“But what of the schools, Mr Bridgerton?” your dad piles in, “I have heard nightmares of the school system in the inner cities, in this country and yours,” he shudders.

“My family has always gone to a superb prep school in Chelsea. I see no reason why our children could not do the same when the time comes,” Benedict responds with a winning smile.

You almost drop the corn casserole at that line.

Plonking it heavily on the table and taking a deep breath, you finally pluck the courage to look over at him. Looking back at you is a playful smile and a wink. And suddenly, you know what he is doing. It likely appears genuine to others, but you know him too well; you know all his facial tells. He is doing this for sport. To entertain you. The kaleidoscope of emotions you feel is near exhausting, relief mixed with a tang of disappointment that it's all for show.

“Well, that's wonderful news, Benedict,” your mother squeaks. “I cannot wait to hear more once you are engaged,” never failing to find an opportunity to take a dig.

“You will be the first to hear, I promise,” he smiles winningly and takes a bite of food. “This is delicious, by the way,” he adds, “I hope you will share the recipe with me, seeing as we will likely be family one day...”

And just like that, he expertly manoeuvres your mother onto the only topic she loves more than marriage - cooking. As if he could intuit how to steer the conversation. Relieved, you sit back and finally take a deep breath, then a bite of your admittedly delicious plate. You are even grateful he manages to distract them long enough that there are no jibes about your weight.

Maybe this wasn't such a mistake…

___

A few hours later, with the little ones tucked up in bed, the adults gather around the tree with the fireplace roaring and the festive music softly playing. It's time for gift exchange, a family tradition away from the hubbub of Christmas morning with the focus on the children ripping through all the gifts Santa left for them.

You are enjoying the buzz a second large glass of wine provides when the focus turns to you. Benedict sits beside you and slides a hand onto your knee. Still, your body reacts, but you attempt to act as if it doesn't make your blood pump hard in your head.

“Benedict, we didn't know you were coming, so I'm sorry we have no gift for you to open,” your mother says sheepishly, “and y/n, we have done as you always ask; we have sent you a gift card over email,” she explains, “which makes me sad as you have no gift to unwrap….”

“That's fine, Mom, thank you. And don't worry, I don't need a gift,” you assure, taking another swig.

“Actually….” Benedict clears his throat, “I have a gift for my girlfriend if that is okay?”

You look agog at him.

“But… I didn't get you anything,” you splutter, even as he moves his hand from you and reaches behind his back, revealing a small navy velvet box.

“Don't worry. It's nothing really, just something small,” Benedict assures, even as you can feel everyone’s eyes on you as you reluctantly let him place it in your hands.

Slowly, you pull at the tail of the lovely soft gold ribbon until it relents. With your heart in your mouth, you snap open the box. Nestled in more navy velvet is a tiny, beautiful crystal penguin, your favourite animal.

“Ben…” you are lost for all other words, tears prickling the corners of your eyes.

“I remember you loved the larger one my mum had on her desk,” he explains lowly as you stare transfixed by all the facets catching the twinkling light. “Every time we had a meeting, you would stare at it or play with it. So I knew I had to get you one too, for your desk… or wherever you want to put it,” he modifies sweetly.

You can't help it - the swell of emotions makes you throw your arms around him as you clutch the precious item. It's like he has managed to distil everything you could want from a Christmas gift - something personal, tailored to you, nothing too extravagant but small, elegant and beautiful. And that he had the forethought to bring it across the Atlantic with him makes your heart burst even more. He is possibly the best friend you could ever have. You fervently wish he was so much more.

“I can't believe you remember that,” you mumble. “This is perfect and beautiful. Thank you, Ben, thank you so much.”

“Merry Christmas, my love,” he says into your hair at a volume you know is designed to be heard by the room.

“Merry Christmas,” you return quieter, only for him.

Vaguely, you hear your mother moving on to hand a gift to another, perhaps embarrassed by the display of affection between you. Grateful that the family focus seems to have shifted to someone else, you go to pull away from the embrace, but Benedict draws you tighter into him. 

“Lovers don't let go so quickly,” he whispers. “Now I'm going to kiss you again if that is okay…”

Your tummy flips. “Okay…” you barely struggle out the word.

Then his hand is on your cheek, and time seems to slow like treacle; his eyes burn into yours as he moves in, then flutter closed as his lips meet yours. Again, it is like a rollercoaster, a thrilling plunge as his lips move over yours. It's like the previous night, respectful with a closed mouth but so sweet and promising, so much more a whole ripple runs through your body. You need more, so much more, desperate to climb into his lap and demand a real kiss, audience be damned.  When you part, he tilts his forehead against yours and smiles gently, licking his lip as if savouring the taste.

“I'm glad you like it. The gift that is,” he clarifies, a sweet mumble.

You giggle. “I love it, Ben, thank you. I'm sorry I didn't get you anything; I feel terrible.”

“Being here with you is gift enough,” he assures in a voice that melts your insides, which you assume is for the audience.

My god, this man will be the death of me.

The rest of the evening passes in a pleasant fog of wine, your siblings holding court and telling stories as you listen, feeling the weight of Benedict’s hand again on your leg as he sips on a whiskey. Once again, you feel the creeping of jetlag and decide to turn in around 10pm. You give Benedict a peck on the cheek before he can draw you into another confounding kiss and make your escape upstairs with a glass of eggnog and your book.

As you settle into bed, you try not to let your thoughts spiral as you catch sight of the crystal penguin in its box. Instead, you tell yourself he is a good friend and rich; it's likely nothing to him, and not to read too much into it.

___

December 25th 

At some point, you drift off to sleep, book in hand, the timezone still catching you out. You only realise it when you are awoken suddenly around 2am by a knock on your door.

“Come in,” you croak, sitting up and rubbing your eyes to adjust to the light; you had fallen asleep with the bedside lamp on low while reading.

The door opens ajar, and Benedict’s handsome face pops in. “I saw your light on…” he says softly, “just wanted to check on you.”

You put your book aside, pull the covers around your neck and feel an odd flutter as he closes the door behind him. He looks cosy in long tartan pyjama bottoms and a soft dark t-shirt.

“I'm sure your dad would kill me if he knew I were here,” he jests as he hovers a few feet away.

“Come sit,” you pat the bed next to you, even as you feel strange about him being here, dead of night on Christmas Day. 

He nods gratefully and perches on the edge of your bed. It's a full-size mattress, bigger than a twin, but not a double bed. You can feel his weight tugging the bedding tight over your thighs.

“Thank you again for my gift, truly,” you gesture to the box on your bedside table.

“I had to. I couldn't think of anything more… you...” Benedict smiles that demure smile with downcast eyes that always makes you want to shake him and tell him to stop looking so fucking adorable. Or mount him. Or both. You have to bite your lip to stop blurting out your errant thoughts.

“But still to buy me such a wonderful gift and put up with my family… I mean… you deserve a medal,” you shrug.

A hand clamps onto your knee through the bedding, but it still surprises you. 

“Stop it,” he gruffs. “I'm going to need you to stop. Seriously. I chose to come here. It's been fun. Something different. Yes, your family is a bit… intense, but everyone’s is. Each has its own special blend of crazy. You’ve seen the Bridgerton brand of dysfunctional up close,” he points out, knowing without saying more how much you have watched them bicker over the years.

“But you’ve said all those lovely things, made up all these amazing believable stories…” you argue back weakly.

“Every single thing I have said to your family has been the truth,” he responds solemnly.

You replay a few choice record-scratch moments in your head. “But what about the stuff about me being the person you could see yourself having kids with and where these imaginary kids would go to school…” you point out, wincing as you do.

“I told no lies,” he answers each syllable enunciated slowly, staring you down.

It feels like your whole world tilts when he utters those words.

“What are you saying?” you query, breathier than you mean to sound but needing him to spell it out.

He sighs, but a mischievous grin twitches the corner of his mouth. “You are much smarter than this; don't be obtuse now, y/n,” he rumbles, something in the challenging way he says it catches a fire behind your ribs.

“Ben…” you warn, so many contradictory feelings at once.

“You are all the things I said and more, and you must know how amazing you are,” he offers softly as you feel your eyes misting.

“Please don't,” your last vestige of resistance, still not believing what he says can possibly be true, too close to a festive miracle. Part of you thinks that at any moment, you will wake up alone and bereft.

His fingertips brush your cheek, and you inhale sharply and look up to see him inches from your face.

“Fine, if you don't somehow believe my words, maybe you’ll believe my deeds…”

It's the last few words out of his mouth before his lips meet yours.

This time, it's not for an audience; it's just for the two of you, and it almost stops your heart. A hesitant, soft, sweet brush that becomes more as he leans in and deepens the kiss. His lips part yours as your mind grinds to a halt, tentatively following his lead, kissing him back… the catalyst, the permission he needs. A large hand rounds behind your head and pulls you forward. Suddenly, it's a tidal wave, his tongue rolling greedily over yours, becoming hungry, urgent, desperate, your body awash with chemicals, scarcely able to believe Benedict, the star of every one of your spicy dreams, is here in your childhood bedroom, kissing the very life out of you in the early hours of Christmas Day.

“Lay down,” he murmurs into your skin as his lips glide over your cheek, and you follow his order without thought, shuffling down obediently until you lie flat and stare up at him transfixed. 

It’s as if he’s taken your disbelief as a challenge to prove how very real this is. With one hand, he tosses aside the covers and crawls over you until he is engulfing you, surrounding you with his scent that makes your mouth water. His lips are hot on your neck as his hands map your body, lingering in places you are self-conscious about. 

“Do you have any idea how sexy you are?” he sighs as if disputing your internal monologue, his breath ghosting warm over your collarbone. 

“Stop…” you demure, wriggling under him, feeling bashful.

“No..” his crooked smile is lethal as his head pops up from worrying your throat with a little edge of his teeth. His hand skates your clothed breast, and on instinct, you push up into it, your nipple hardening as the heat of his palm seeps through your nightshirt. “Please take off your top,” he implores, his mouth finding your lips again. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve dreamt of touching your naked body.”

“I can’t believe this…” you mutter, shaky, confounded that it could be true—the man you desire desiring you back just as wantonly. He lowers his body between your legs, surging his hips so you feel something insistent inside his pyjamas.

“Now, do you believe me?” he dusks into your ear.

“Benedict…” falls from your lips as an excited shudder.

“Say my name again, please,” he huffs right against your cheekbone, pinning you under him with his pelvis.

“Benedict,” you repeat, revelling in the effect it seems to have on him.

It gives you the courage to whip off your top. The noise he makes as he realises you are naked underneath it is a beeline right between your legs.

“Shh,” you hush, giggling, a rush through your veins, not wanting anyone to disturb this, as he slides his lips down over your skin towards your breasts.

“I cannot,” he remarks gleefully,  “not with such a bounty beneath me.” 

His lips clamp onto your left nipple, sucking and swirling his tongue with an intensity that steals the breath from your lungs.

“Might wake fam…” you stumble out, impressed you can even do that.

He pulls up, his biceps in tense relief as he balances on his fists curled on either side of your waist. “Then lock your damn door,” he growls in a way that has you clenching.

“No lock…” you squeak, wishing beyond belief you had one.

“Shit, really?” he sighs, leaning back down to kiss over your sternum. “I’m not sure I can be quiet; I’ve wanted this for too long…”

You go to query that statement, but he moves to your other breast and does the same, so the only sound you are capable of is a guttural moan.

“Shh,” he hushes you back cheekily, tilting his head up from your chest, eyes sparkling and face so achingly handsome you still can barely believe this is happening,

“We really do have to be quiet…” you point out reluctantly.

“I know,” he sighs into your breastbone, dropping a soft kiss there. “I want to tell you so many things….” 

“Whisper them to me…” you beseech, running your fingers through his lush, thick head of hair, tilting your breast back up to his mouth.

He smirks and catches your unsubtle hint, once again using his talented mouth to make you shudder under him. He runs a finger down your centre line to your belly. 

“Your body is perfect,” he sighs. You go to protest, but he shoots you a disapproving look, so you bite back your words. “I could get lost for hours tracing your lines,” he hums, his featherlight touch tickling as it crosses under your belly button, making you giggle. “Hmm, a little ticklish too,” he sounds utterly captivated by that discovery, throwing you a very troublesome expression.

“Don't use it against me…” you warn, knowing he will ignore you, a fizzy feeling at this playfulness.

“Oh, I just might…” he chuckles as he runs his tongue lower over your torso, a hot, damp line that leaves fluttering in his wake. “I could do this all night…your skin is so soft,” he purrs, inhaling deeply, nuzzling his nose above the line of your pyjama bottoms. “You always smell so fantastic,” he sighs, using his teeth to tug on the ribbon. 

You’ve never had someone be this vocal during intimacy. It makes you feel reassured but also slightly bewildered by just how aroused you are getting, Benedict’s resonant voice skittering compliments over your skin, making you embarrassingly wet. Your hands greedily pull at his t-shirt, hoping he will get the hint.

“If you want something from me, you have to say it,” he teases as he switches to using his fingers to undo the bow on your pyjamas. 

“Please take off your top, Ben,” you mewl, even as your heart pounds at the idea you will soon be naked under him.

“I will,” he promises, “in a minute…” 

As if sensing your apprehension about removing your last item of clothing, he leaves it in place, shuffling lower and stretching your legs wide with his shoulders. You gasp loudly as his mouth, hot through the thin cotton protecting your modesty, sucks insistently over your slit. A large hand curling around your hip to stop you canting off the bed. Your clit throbs, and your pussy leaks copiously down your bottom.

“Fuck I can tell how wet you are even through this fabric,” he stutters.

“I'm sorry...” you squirm, embarrassed.

He surges upright, grabs your hands from around his head and cages them on the mattress beside your hips.

“Let's get two things very clear,” his voice stern but achingly seductive. “One, your body is incredible, and you should know by now how much I desire you. Two, if you ever apologise again for being turned on, I will be annoyed. Do you know how proud I am? That I can do this to you? How absolutely rigid this makes me?” rutting his hard cock against your left calf to prove his point. “I want your desire running down to your knees. I want you mindless and trembling with need for me.” 

“O-okay,” you stumble out, entranced. This filthy poetry and feralness is beyond anything you could imagine him capable of. You have seen hints of his menacing potential, but full force, it’s breathtaking.

“Good,” he smiles crookedly, releasing your hands. “Now lift your hips so I can get you properly naked,” the slightly bossy rejoinder really working for you.

Mutely, you do as bidden, his fingertips trailing fire down your hips as he tugs the material over your thighs, impatiently pulling them from around your ankles and tossing them over his shoulder, his gaze locked onto your body. He groans a curse, and you again find yourself clenching around nothing at his untamed response.

Whispering his name is a reflex, your fingers carding again into his hair as he lowers his mouth and suckles the skin of your hip before slowly, almost torturously, winding his way lower towards your centre. Every place he touches feels alive and fluttering, him whispering reassurance and praise into your flesh, like a sensual requiem that catches your breath. By the time he trails his nose down the crease where your thigh meets your body, you are panting, eyes screwed shut, head tilted back, anticipation knotting your guts.

“Look at me,” he orders softly, his face framed by your thighs as you gulp and look down the plane of your body to him. “Don’t look away; I want to see your eyes when I do this,” his breath hot on your slit.

He unfurls his tongue and ploughs through your wet flesh, making your toes and fingers curl. You have to bite your lip and curse behind your teeth, the sensation overwhelming, his eye flashing fire in his blown pupils at your bodily reaction. You hiss loudly, needing to call out so bad your lungs ache. You twist your pillow to bite down on a corner but keep your eyes on him as told. He chuckles pridefully, the sensation shooting up your pelvis, then keeps going. Teasing around your clit with a lathing action that is nothing like you've had before, devouring, using his whole face, strong arms wrapping your thighs in a vice-like grip, held lewdly open It feels so good that within moments you are panting. Still, part of you is tense, scared about your ability to be silent.

“Relax,” he breathes, shaking your hip gently in his grip, sensing the tension in your being. 

“I'm worried I won't be able to stay quiet enough,” you admit, muffled around the pillowcase, looking away to stare at the ceiling as he busses a soft kiss onto your inner thigh.  

“One moment…” he withdraws and hops off the bed. You watch, vaguely dazed, as he drags a heavy chair against the door and wedges it under the handle so it can’t be opened. “There, now we should get some warning.”.

When he turns back around, you instinctively pull the cover over yourself to hide your naked body, even as you can’t help but stare at the tent in his pyjama bottoms, mouth watering at visions of what lies beneath.

“Don’t do that,” he reproaches softly, “show yourself to me.”

Reluctantly, you push the sheet away again, squirming slightly as his eyes roam your body lasciviously as he prowls over to you, stripping off his t-shirt as he does. His naked torso is perfect, toned and honed, and as he crawls over you, you are hypnotised by the view. 

“You are so beautiful,” he sighs, dropping a kiss on the tip of your nose, the scent of your arousal on his face. “Never cover yourself in front of me; you should be proud of your body.”

You’ve never had someone say that before, and your insides are molten, a need for him that burns so bright, an inferno purely of his making.

“Tell me what you want,” he proposes, lacing your fingers with his, kissing your fingertips, then sucking them into his mouth, looking at you expectantly as you stutter at his warm, wet, talented tongue lathing over your fingertips.

“Everything…” you blurt out honestly. “Anything. This is all wonderful… Can I return the favour for you?” you deflect, brushing your other hand tentatively over his bulge as he hovers over you.

“Yes, you bloody can,” he growls, releasing your fingers from his lips as his eyes flash dark. But he grabs your hand away from his cock, calming his tone. “But not tonight. Another time…”

“Another time?” you echo, temporarily stunned by the idea this isn't a never-to-be-repeated Christmas miracle.

“Yes. Why would you think this a one-time thing?” his brow knits as he drops a kiss on your cheek. “What about my actions and words tonight suggest that?”

“Nothing, I suppose,” you concede, “just history…”

He cups your jaw. “The past is the past. This is now and me,” he states clearly, running a thumb tenderly over your lip. “I will do whatever you want. If you tell me to leave this room right now, I will, and I won't think any less of you…”

“Don't you dare,” it's a snarl from some dark recess deep inside you, your legs twining around his to lock him in place.

“There she is…” he chuckles, that lopsided grin taking over his face before kissing a line down your throat. “Now tell me what you want, y/n.”

“I want you inside me,” you confess, running your hands over his naked back, loving the play of muscles under warm skin.

He groans at your words, an edge of teeth on your jugular, making you ripen, feel daring. If he wants to know just how wild he makes you, you are going to show it. You grab his face and drag it up until he is over you again, his pupils blown and his hair a mess from your tugging.

“Fuck me, right now, Ben,” you demand hotly, pushing your body up into his and delving a hand inside the back of his pyjamas to grab his shapely rear, keen for him to be as naked as you.

He snarls and pins your arms beside your head on the pillow.

“Do you have any condoms?” he breathes hot in your ear.

“Ah shit,” your head thumps back, chastising yourself for not planning better. But then this seemed like such an unlikely outcome, frankly miraculous; why on earth would you have?

“Good thing I came prepared then,” he teases, releasing his grip to produce a small packet from the pocket of his pyjamas.

“You….” you scold, equal parts impressed and irked, running your fingers around his waistband. 

“It was a sincere wish, not an expected conclusion,” he smiles bashfully, his lips meeting yours for a searing kiss as he slips off the last of his clothing.

A shiver runs down your spine as he bears you into the mattress, naked, his rigid cock brandishing the inside of your thigh. He keeps kissing you over and over until your lips feel tingly from the slight hint of stubble around his. You wrap all of your limbs around him, craving for your bodies to be melded.

When he pushes up slightly to rip open the packet, you glance down and see, nestled in a patch of trimmed hair, a sizeable but very pretty cock. You can’t resist reaching out and touching it, loving the feel of steely strength under the silky texture; his soft groan is like music to your ears. Sighing his name, you are impatient for him to be inside you, already knowing it will feel wonderful, part of you craving skin on skin. 

Again he wears that demure smile, looking up at you through his lashes, so you take over, eagerly rolling the condom onto that pretty cock and then pulling him down on top of you forcefully.

“I like it when you are just a little bossy,” he confesses into your mouth, one hand pulling the cover over you both, then sliding between your bodies to guide himself towards you.

“I like it when you are a little bossy,” you counter, but then all your words die out as his cock slides insistently into you.

Your eyes roll back as he inches inside, so much heat and girth, your body stretching to accommodate his invasion. You both seem to utter a curse, and your hands grasp each other tight.

“You feel amazing…” he murmurs as he bottoms out, the feeling of fullness so perfect.

You whisper your agreement as he withdraws and surges back in, your feet curling around his legs, toes sliding into the light fuzz on the back of his calves. There are soft sighs, both of you trying to muffle your sounds as he sets a languid pace, your body rolling with his; each push has your walls clinging to him, your breasts squashing against his broad chest. What strikes you most as you move together is that nothing is awkward; it all feels natural, predestined, an easy intimacy that suggests months or even years together rather than a first time.

He feels so good moving inside you, so perfect; all you can do is cling to him, trying to convey with your eyes what you dare not voice. Afraid that if you open your mouth, you will release the noises you are fighting to hold in, blazing in your lungs. His stare is blistering, too, a blush across his face that speaks of desire and denied words, his neck corded, a pulse beating wildly in his prominent vein, a sheen gathering on his forehead as he pushes into you over and over.

His breath is hot on your temple as he shifts, dropping a shoulder and reaching down, looping your leg into the crook of his arm, the sheet pulling taut around your knee as he does. He hits a new spot deep inside with his next thrust, which has you digging your nails into his back and whimpering behind your sealed lips. It's as if he is doing his damnedest to break you, make you cry out, and it's the best torture you have ever known.

You huff out of your nose as he does the same, both sounding winded, as he picks up the pace, your teenage bed starting to squeak in protest.

“Shhh,” you plead with the furniture as much as him.

He stops moving, buried in you, and reaches above, stuffing a throw pillow between the bedframe and the wall, his arms flexing deliciously right over your face, the scent of his body spiking your need. It makes you grasp your thighs around his hips and flip him over, landing with a bounce, him still inside as you are on top of him now.

“Wow, that was…” he looks both astounded and exhilarated.

“Surprising?” you supply with a triumphant crooked smile of your own, your hands tracing the lines of his pectorals.

“Wonderful,” he clarifies, his hands grasping your hips as you start to ride him. The way he looks up at you, with dark pupils and a bitten lip, makes you fearless. Starting a leisurely pace, you place your hands over his on your hips, fingers lacing as his eyes slip from yours briefly, transfixed by his cock disappearing into you.

He groans low, undulating beneath you, pushing up as you sink down, his eyes back to your face, a prideful expression as your mouth drops open, his cock nudging deeper than ever before, almost a dull ache that you need, moving faster now, chasing that hit with every downstroke. You can feel your body flushing hot from the exertion, your thigh muscles burning slightly. Still, you don't waver, too addicted to that feeling of being so utterly filled, his cock dragging all the right places inside that switch off your brain and forget everything, every doubt, every uncertainty about yourself and your body, and just chase pleasure. 

“My god, you are beautiful,” he gasps, “I love to see you like this, so untamed, so free…” 

The compliments just drip like whispered jewels from his tongue as he guides your joined hands up to your breasts and grabs them with a force that fans the heavy, hot feeling in your pelvis, his knuckles snagging your sensitive buds. It makes you want to ride him forever, your clit throbbing each time you sink down, tugging temptingly but not enough to quite tip you over. The clawing sensation of being so close makes you drag your fingernails down his torso and clench around his cock. He stutters and looks at you hungrily, possessed, and then, before you know it, the room tilts as he rolls you back under him, again never leaving your body.

He withdraws and thrusts back into you with such force the wind is knocked out of your lungs, the pillow muffling the thud against the wall. Something in the atmosphere shifts; an urgency, like the heat that has been simmering, is now boiling over for both of you. He grabs your knees and encourages you to wrap your legs high around his torso, tilting your pelvis to a new angle, and when he moves, you cry loudly behind your lips, his body glancing at your clit.

He hushes you with a prideful chuckle. So you grab one of his hands and place it over your mouth, knowing you cannot trust yourself to stay quiet now. The hitch in his breath as you gag yourself with his palm is like poetry. 

Oh, Ben, you have no idea what I may want from you one day…

Your errant thoughts run to your darker fantasies, things you’ve never done before but are intrigued by, and in every one of them, it's him. Treating you just a little rough while you beg for more.

“Whatever you are thinking,” he gusts into your ear, moving faster now, “I hope it involves me.”

You nod, feeling his fingers flex across your face.

“Good, I can't wait for you to tell me,” he rasps lowly.

A bead of sweat forms along his hairline as the whole bed rocks now, the trapped pillow muffling the sound, his punishing pace pushing you ever closer to orgasm, pleasure spiking with each thrust. His hand grips your jaw; something about that pressure and the sweet words he murmurs is a contradiction of primal and tender. Sex before has always been one or the other for you; blended together, it's a potent elixir.

He takes you hard, without mercy, and you silently beg him with your eyes for just that; his cock feels so hot and rigid, pounding into you as your cries are muffled by his tangy palm. The onslaught is perfect, and you are teetering on the edge just as he pleads roughly with you to come with him. So you let yourself go, your mind blanks out, your body bucking under his violently. Shuddering convulsions fanning out from your pussy, gripping tight around him and racing through every ounce of your being, muscles taut, eyes screwed shut, a scream trapped in your lungs. He stills above you, his hand releasing your mouth as that bead of sweat splashes down onto your nose. He curls around you, coming hard, huffing gulps of air and twitching almost violently with tiny aftershocks.

After a pause filled with panted breaths and strokes on overheated skin, he carefully withdraws and discards the condom.

“Merry Christmas,” you giggle into his neck as you collapse together.

He hauls you into his embrace, tucking you under his arm and kissing your dewy forehead. 

“Merry Christmas indeed,” his answer ragged, wrapped in a warm laugh.

And that is how you both drift off - exhausted, sated bodies entwined, damp skin pressed together.

___

A few hours later, you are awakened by overexcited nieces and nephews thundering down the stairs, eager to see what Santa has brought them. It takes a moment to recall what transpired overnight, a telltale delicious residual pang between your legs, followed by the realisation you are alone. Part of you relieved Benedict has snuck back to the safety of the den, but a larger part sad not to be waking up in his arms. Sighing, you roll over and spy a jaunty cartoon penguin Christmas card propped up on your bedside table. Upon opening, you beam, immediately recognising the beautiful, looped handwriting.

Y/n 

Thank you for the most magical night. Leaving this bed might be the hardest thing I have ever had to do. I can’t think of anywhere else I would rather be on Christmas Day or, indeed, any other day of the year. But I don't want your father to be angry with me. I have a lifetime to disappoint him… if you will let me. 

I can't wait to see you downstairs.

Merry Christmas,

B xx

P.S. I may have just booked a hotel for the rest of our stay. I think we deserve some privacy ;)

You giggle, elated; the exciting prospect of nights in a hotel and the pledge of a lifetime ahead makes your stomach leap—this could be the start of something. You momentarily clutch the card to your chest, revelling in your joy, before burying it into your book for safekeeping and going to take a shower.

When you descend the stairs, out of the picture window, you see most of the family gathered on the street with the kids circling on their new bikes. But as you round into the living room, a sight melts your heart. Benedict sitting cross-legged on the floor with Sofia, a novelty Santa hat perched on his head, surrounded by shreds of wrapping paper, festive music playing in the background as he puts batteries in some loud plastic toy that will no doubt drive everyone up the wall for the rest of the day. 

She whoops with delight as the toy noisily springs to life and runs away to play with it. That's when he looks up and sees you watching from the doorway, his face lighting up. Slowly, he gets to his feet, and then you gasp as he wordlessly pulls you into his arms, brings your hand to his face and kisses your knuckles before starting to waltz.

“I didn't know you could dance like this, Mr Bridgerton,” you tease, impressed, allowing him to lead you around, dodging haphazard toys and boxes.

“Oh, there are so many, many things you have yet to learn about me, Ms y/l/n,” he proclaims alluringly as Frank Sinatra croons from the speaker.

♫ It's that time of year  When the world falls in love Every song you hear seems to say Merry Christmas May your New Year's dreams come true. ♫

“I hope you don't have plans for New Year's,” he whispers into your hair as he brings you to a halt. “I would very much like you to accompany me to Aubrey Hall. As my girlfriend,” he explains, grinning. “Not fake,” he adds drolly after a pause.

You laugh, feeling lightheaded and giddy, but just as you go to answer, you are both interrupted by a little hand tugging on his jeans. 

“Uncle Ben, you are my favouritist,” Sofia declares solemnly. “Will you visit every Christmas?”

Meeting your gaze, his expression contains multitudes. 

“It would be my greatest honour, Sofia,” he replies to her, even though his eyes never stray from yours.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies

Lights divider by @/saradika [x]

[persevereforahappyending]

He Hung Up (Christmas)

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: “Christmas is literally in a few days, is the plan for them to stay through Christmas as well?”

Warnings: None

Word Count: 6k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Sam trudged up the stairs to her apartment, sighing as she got her keys ready. She just got off a long shift and wanted nothing more than to just relax. She wasn’t big on Christmas, but she was looking forward to the time off and spending time with her sister, it had been a long time since they got to spend Christmas together. Sam doesn’t really count last year because there was still a lot of recovering from Ghostface going on. She knew this year wouldn’t be perfect, but she was hoping it might be better, maybe she and Tara could make new memories and Christmas could become something they enjoyed again. She knew she was part of Tara’s dislike of the holidays, first their dad left and then Sam left. Sam had a lot of make-up to do.

The college was already on winter break but given Sam’s job she hadn’t gotten to spend any time with her sister, she barely got started on her Christmas shopping. Chad and Mindy left the first day of break, which happened to be the day after Tara’s birthday. Sam was glad the twins got to spend Tara’s birthday with her, it ended up being a fun night. The next day they flew back to California to spend the break with their mom. They all agreed to do a Christmas together when the twins got back, which just meant Sam had more time to pick something good out for them. She was hoping to get a little input from Tara, she wanted to do something football related for Chad and horror related for Mindy but despite her father being a serial killer that spawned a popular horror franchise she didn’t know shit about horror.

Danny also flew back to his hometown to be with his parents. So, the only thing keeping Sam from getting to spend the holidays alone with her sister was you. As Sam’s keys jingled, unlocking her apartment, she heard what she had been hearing every day since the break started, you. You had been over every day since the break started. The only good thing was that most days you left and went back to your own apartment, not that it mattered because you stayed all night and then were back by morning, sometimes Sam was eating breakfast, and you were already there, knocking on the door. Sam was trying to be nice though, it was the holidays and she’d hopefully have Christmas Day just her and her sister.

When Sam pushed open the door, she saw you and Tara curled up on the couch watching a movie as you not so quietly talked to each other. Sam glanced at the TV to see Gremlins playing. “Gremlins?” she questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah!” You exclaimed, looking at her like it was the most obvious choice for them to be watching. “It’s the best Christmas movie.”

Sam was taken aback giving you a look like you had two heads. “How is-”

“Don’t,” Tara tried to warn her.

“That a Christmas movie?” Sam continued her question.

“Well, you see Samantha,” you started, earning a quick glare from Sam, she hated when someone called her Samantha. “Gizmo,” you pointed to the little fuzzy guy who was currently on the screen, “was a Christmas present.” You clasped your hands together as if you were presenting a project. “The whole movie takes place around Christmas time. They’re decorating the tree, making Christmas cookies, and the gremlins even dress up like carolers.” You let out a satisfied huff at the end of your reasoning.

“But people are attacked and some of them even die,” she tried to argue. She wasn’t sure why she was playing into your game.

“People are attacked in home alone, but everyone considers that a Christmas movie,” you fired back.

“But there’s no death!”

You scoffed, waving off the claim. “Gremlins only has off screen deaths, those don’t count. Also, all that shit Kevin did? Those two guys should have been dead.”

“Whatever,” Sam said shaking her head. She saw your reasoning and it was pretty logical, not that she’d ever tell you that. She still wasn’t sure if she’d considered it a Christmas movie.

Sam tossed her stuff down and made her way into the kitchen, opening the fridge to see what she could make for dinner. “Oh,” Tara called out from the kitchen. “Can Y/N stay for dinner?”

Sam sighed, closing the fridge, and moving to stand in the doorway. “Again?” Sam asked some of her annoyance from the week slipping in.

“Yeah?” Tara asked, turning to face Sam. “What’s the issue?” Tara wasn’t glaring at Sam, yet, but Sam could hear the slight annoyed tone. Tara always got that tone when she didn’t get her way, specifically when it came to you.

“They’ve been here an awfully lot this week,” Sam started, keeping her voice as neutral as possible.

“So? It’s Christmas break.”

“That doesn’t mean they have to spend every second of every day here.” Sam ran a frustrated hand through her hair. “They’re usually just leaving by the time I’m going to bed and then they’re back knocking on the door before I leave for work.”

“So what?” Tara was now on her feet, arms crossed and glaring at Sam. “You haven’t been home, and I don’t feel like spending all day alone. Who cares if they’re here all day?”

“Christmas is literally in a few days, is the plan for them to stay through Christmas as well?”

“Maybe!”

“No,” Sam snapped. She didn’t mean to be so harsh; all the weeks of stress have just been building up. She hadn’t expected an answer and the fact that Tara didn’t see a problem in you crashing their Christmas sent her over the edge. “That’s where I draw the line.”

“What are you saying?” Tara matched her sister’s anger. “I can’t spend Christmas with them? They’re not allowed to come over and see me?”

“I want one day! One day of just you and me! I figured Christmas could be that day. We could finally spend a Christmas together, just the two of us.”

“What about what I want?”

“Don’t they have a family to go see over Christmas and they want to spend time with?” Sam saw a flash of something in your eyes, but she was to focused on Tara to recognize what it was.

“God! You-”

“Actually,” you spoke softly cutting Tara off as you slowly rose to your feet, gently resting a hand on her arm. “I’m headed back home tomorrow.”

“What?” Tara whipped around. Sam almost got whiplash from how fast Tara went from angry to hurt. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know I was having fun with you; I didn’t want to ruin it.”

“You leave tomorrow?”

You nodded. “Yeah, but I’ll call you every day and I’m getting back the day after Christmas.”

Tara crossed her arms pouting. “I was hoping to give you your present on Christmas Day.”

“I’m sorry,” you looked at her sadly. “I wish I could give you yours Christmas Day as well, but we can do Christmas the day after, yeah?” You smiled, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Just me and you. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“I guess.” Tara was still pouting but she seemed slightly less upset. “I still wish you would’ve had told me.”

“It’s not like it’s going to be fun. I’m not going to be doing anything, really.”

“Then why do you have to go?” Sam wanted to roll her eyes, of course Tara would try and convince you to not go to your families for Christmas.

“Spending time with family is important, right?” You raised your eyebrows, staring Tara down to make her agree with you. Sam didn’t know how you did it, you always got Tara to agree with you. If Sam had said any of the stuff you did, Tara would be nonstop, making nothing into a monstrous fight.

“Yeah,” Tara sighed. “I’m still going to miss you.”

“Me too,” you rest a hand on the side of her face, caressing her cheek. “Besides we still have tonight,” you looked up at Sam, silently asking her if that was still okay. Sam nodded; she could tolerate you one more night since it meant you wouldn’t be around for a few days.

“I guess,” Tara mumbled, wrapping her arms around your waist before burying her head in your shirt. You instantly wrapped your arms around her, pulling her in for a tighter hug. Sam wanted to roll her eyes, the two of you were acting like you weren’t going to see each other for months not a few days.

“Come on, lets finish the movie.” You kissed the top of Tara’s head, keeping one arm wrapped around her as you pulled away and led her back down to the couch.

**************************************

The next few days did not go as Sam had imagined. She had still been working crazy hours and after work she spent the night going from store to store searching for a present for Tara. She had a gift card at the ready to give to Tara, but she wanted something more personal. Tara had also been silently hostile towards her since you left. Sam was trying not to start anything; she was just hoping Tara’s mood would lighten by Christmas day. The only good thing was that Tara wasn’t actively seeking arguments with her, she was just pouting and giving Sam short responses. Every night Tara was on her phone either texting or talking to you. Sam knew it was young love or whatever, but you guys had just seen each other. She herself had barely talked to Danny since he left, they texted a few times but neither one of them was glued to their phone.

As she walked the streets of New York, searching for a shop she hadn’t already been in, something that would call to her, something that screamed Tara, she passed by a bakery. Sam stopped, looking in the window at all the Christmas themed baked goods, there were cakes decorated with snowflakes, cupcakes with little Santas, and various cookies decorated. Sam ripped open the door, stepped into the shop and purchased a dozen cookies. All the cookies looked great but before she could walk away from the window, she noticed some of them were decorated with characters or quotes from various Christmas movies.

As she continued to walk down the street, the box of cookies under her arm, she thought back to her childhood. Sam didn’t like thinking about her childhood, most of her memories were tainted by the lies of her mom, her dad leaving, the truth of her birth father, and the guilt she felt for leaving her sister. When she was younger and Tara was just a little kid who loved following her around things were good, they were happy. Christmas used to be a magical time for them, every Christmas eve they would spend the day baking cookies to leave out for Santa. A part of Sam wanted to bring that back, maybe not the leaving the cookies out for Santa part but the making their own cookies. Besides loving to eat the cookie dough, Sam remembered how big of a smile Tara had on her face, usually covered in flower, when they would make the cookies. Part of Sam worried about bringing it up to Tara, she knew Christmas wasn’t great after she left and Sam didn’t want to try and force old memories, just because she thought it’d be fun didn’t mean Tara would.

Sam sighed, she had been out a little later than usual and she hadn’t seen a single shop that seemed interesting. She was about to turn around when a life-size Wolfman figure caught her eye. She looked at the store front, seeing the windows filled with other movie related memorabilia and posters. She shrugged, deciding there was no harm in giving the little store a shot and opened the door. She knew it was the holidays, it was the day before Christmas eve and the store was closing soon so she was going to do a quick look around and see if anything jumped out at her.

The store was small but was stuffed full, wall to wall, ceiling to floor, there was product everywhere. There were posters, action fingers, DVD sets, a wide range of TV shows and movies. As Sam weaved her way through the rows of shelves she finally came to the register where there was a display case of collectibles. There seemed to be higher valued collectibles, things way out of her price range, but there were also knives and other weapons. The weapons were horror themed though, they were the same style from whatever movie they were from and then they had the villain of the movie etched into the blade. Sam’s eyes grazed over the Ghostface knife and landed on a Friday the 13th machete. The machete had Jason from different scenes etched all down the blade. Sam smiled at the old man behind the counter and pointed to the machete.

When Sam left the shop, she had some slight reservations about buying Tara a weapon. Luckily for her the man assured her the blade was dull and was meant to be a display piece more than anything. Sam made a note of where the shop was, she would have to take Tara there one day and she was tempted to come back and get the Michael Myers knife for Mindy as a gift.

As Sam juggled the box of cookies in one hand and Tara’s present in another, she caught a familiar figure out of the corner of her eye. She stopped dead in her tracks, turning to do a double take. Her mouth fell open, her brow furrowed as she watched you walk out of a pizza shop, pizza box in hand as you made your way in the direction of your dorm. Sam watched you from across the street, Tara hadn’t mentioned anything about you coming back to town early. Sam also hadn’t noticed any evidence of you being in the apartment since the night you left.

When Sam finally got back to the apartment, she kicked the door closed, making sure to hide the bag with Tara’s present. She heard Tara on the phone but paid her no attention as she rushed to her room to hide the present, dropping the box of cookies on the dining room table on the way. She quickly shoved Tara’s present in her closet, planning to wrap it before she went to bed, then made her way back out to the living room.

“Alright, night,” Tara said, smiling into her phone. “Have fun with your family and I can’t wait to see you when you get back.” Sam watched curiously as Tara waited for, Sam assumed you, to respond. “Love you too.” With that she hung up the phone and looked up at Sam with a confused look. “What?”

“Was that Y/N?” Sam questioned, turning her back to Tara to open the box of cookies.

“Yeah,” Tara sighed. Sam could see Tara’s pout without having to turn around.

“They still out of town visiting their parents?” Sam looked up, internally smacking herself, she was trying and failing at being subtle.

“Yeah.” She heard Tara leave the couch, her feet quietly shuffling as she made her way next to Sam. “Said it was kind of boring there and has only really been watching Christmas movies.” Sam could only hum in response, she couldn’t figure out why you didn’t go home for the holiday and more importantly she couldn’t figure out why you were lying to Tara about it. “Whatcha got there?” Tara nodded to the box.

Sam smiled, flipping open the lid of the box. “No way!” Tara said, reaching out and grabbing a cookie. “These are so cool. Where did you find them?” Tara mumbled through a mouth full of cookie.

Sam giggled, shaking her head at her sister. “Passed a bakery on the way home. Are they good?” Tara nodded, giving her a thumbs up.

Tara grabbed another cookie and plopped herself back down on the couch. Sam tapped her fingers against the dining room table, working up the courage to ask Tara what she wanted to. She grabbed a cookie, taking a bite as she sat in the chair next to the couch. She glanced at the TV to see Tara watching The Grinch.

“So…” Sam started off slowly, looking down at her cookie, it was a really good cookie. She flicked her eyes from Tara, who was already looking at her, to the TV, and back to Tara. “I get it if you don’t want to do it, but I was wondering if you wanted to make cookies tomorrow, like we used to do.”

Sam flicked her gaze from her cookie to Tara a few times, waiting for her sister to respond. Tara was looking down at her cookie, her brow furrowed as she was deep in thought. “We don’t have to,” Sam said softly, trying to reassure Tara that it was totally fine if she didn’t want to do it.

“No,” Tara said with a small head shake, finally looking at Sam again. “I’d like that actually, it sounds fun.”

“Great,” Sam smiled and turned her attention back to the TV. Which is how they spent the night, sitting in a peaceful silence, watching whatever Christmas movie popped up next.

***********************************

It was Christmas eve, Sam was off work, she had Tara’s present wrapped, they had plans to bake cookies later in the day, and everything was going perfectly just like Sam had always wanted. Sam couldn’t stop the nagging feeling at the back of her head though. She made breakfast for herself, and Tara and they were halfway through their second Christmas movie when she suddenly couldn’t take it anymore. Sam jumped to her feet, grabbed her keys, and walked to the door.

“I’ll be back,” she said, looking back at Tara before opening the door.

“Wait what,” Tara said, muting the TV. “Where are you going? I thought we were spending the day together?”

“We will, I just have to run out real quick, I forgot to pick something up.”

“I thought you wanted to make cookies,” Tara frowned.

“I do,” Sam smiled softly at her sister. “We will make them as soon as I get back. You’re going to like what I bring back.” Tara continued to pout. “Trust me, please, I promise you, you will love it.”

“Okay,” Tara mumbled quietly, curling up on the couch as she unmuted the TV.

Sam gave her sister one last look before rushing out the door. As a surprise to no one, the streets were bustling with people doing last-minute Christmas shopping. Sam pushed her way through the crowded streets, making her way to the college campus. There were hardly any students on campus, most having returned home for the holidays. Sam easily found her way to your building and up to your dorm room. She did a few quick knocks on your door, then bounced from foot to foot as she waited for you to answer.

The door was quickly flung open and standing before Sam was you, your mouth hung open, whatever you were about to say dying on your lips as you just stared at Sam. Sam bunched up her hands in her pockets, looking at you expectantly.

“What are you doing here?” you finally asked.

“What are you doing here?” Sam asked back, a little harsher than she intended. She couldn’t help it, you had a habit of just annoying her without even doing anything, she knew she had to work on that.

“I live here,” you said confused.

“Why are you lying to Tara?” Sam crossed her arms. “Why did you say you were going back home?”

You let out a defeated sigh. “You wanted Christmas to be the two of you,” you shrugged. “I didn’t want to intrude or ruin your Christmas.”

Sam’s eyes fell to the floor, it was so hard to dislike you when you were so considerate. You were kind of an asshole and Sam’s dislike was warranted half the time but deep down you were sweet. “Why didn’t you go home? Don’t your parents want to spend Christmas with you?”

You scoffed, refusing to meet Sam’s eyes as you looked down at the floor. “My parents haven’t spent Christmas at home since I was thirteen and deemed old enough to not burn the house down when left alone.” Sam frowned, she knew you didn’t talk about your parents much, Tara had said they weren’t super active in your life, but she didn’t realize how distant they actually were. “I don’t even know where they are right now,” you shrugged. “Somewhere warm.”

“Let’s go,” is all Sam said, turning to leave.

“Wait what?” you leaned half your body out the door.

Sam turned around, rolling her eyes at you. “Grab whatever you need and come on,” she waved her hand impatiently. “You’re spending Christmas with us.”

“Nononono,” you shook your head. “You don’t have to do that. I’m fine.”

“Get your shit and come on,” she snapped.

You quickly shut your mouth, ran back into your dorm, and came out with two presents in less than a minute. You silently walked behind Sam as she led the way back to the apartment. She never thought she’d say it, but it was actually unsettling how quiet you were being. When the two of you got back to the apartment, she went in first, tossing her keys on the table before closing the door behind you.

“What did you have to get?” Tara asked, not taking her eyes off the TV. Sam didn’t answer, making Tara look up, her eyes becoming confused when she saw you but quickly lit up. “What are you doing here?” she jumped up, running, and crashing into you for a hug. Sam shook her head; it hadn’t even been a week since you were here and yet Tara was acting like it was a lifetime.

“I never had plans to go to my parents,” you admitted, dropping your eyes to the floor in shame.

“What?” Tara asked, there was no anger in her voice, only confusion.

“They aren’t big on Christmas; I never spend it with them. I didn’t want to intrude and ruin Christmas for you guys,” you looked back at Sam. “And I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to feel bad, I knew you’d try and convince me to join you guys.”

Tara lightly punched you in the shoulder before pulling you in for another hug. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled into your neck.

Once Tara and you separated, the two of you followed Sam into the kitchen. Sam grabbed the ingredients and the three of you made cookie dough. You and Tara threw flour at each other, making a mess and though Sam would usually be annoyed she couldn’t help but laugh along with you guys. She’s pretty sure the three of you ate more of the cookie dough than you used to make cookies. When there were finally enough cookies to fill the tray, they popped them into the oven and moved to the living room, popping on another Christmas movie as they waited for the cookies to be ready.

When the oven dinged, you and Tara raced to the kitchen, nearly forgetting oven mitts as you moved to pull the cookies out. Sam had to push the two of you back before the two of you started grabbing the cookies off the hot tray before they had the chance to cool. She shooed the two of you back to the living room, forcing you both to wait for the cookies to cool before you all started eating and decorating them. With how excited the two of you were Sam wasn’t sure you guys would be able to wait to start decorating, you and Tara would probably eat all the cookies plain.

That’s how the three of you spent the rest of the night. You all decorated cookies together at the dining room table, eating cookies in the processes. Sam was focused on her decorating but every time she looked up, she saw you licking icing off your fingers, she wasn’t sure if you ever finished decorating one cookie. When all the cookies were eaten or decorated the three of you retired to the living room, Sam taking her usual spot in the chair while you and Tara cuddled up on the couch.

**********************************

Sam woke up Christmas morning to the smell of something delicious cooking. She rubbed her eyes, frowning at who could possibly be cooking so early. It wasn’t that Tara was a bad cook, she had to learn to cook after Sam left but she had never made anything smell this good. Sam couldn’t judge though; it wasn’t like she was a master chef either, she knew how to make enough things to allow them to survive and give them some variety, but they still did takeout the majority of the time.

Sam ran a hand through her hair as she walked down the hall and into the kitchen, she stopped, blinking a few times to try and clear her vision, she couldn’t believe what she was seeing, you were in her kitchen, cooking, and it smelled good. Sam looked around, seeing you were making use of the entire stove, cooking eggs, bacon and sausage, and pancakes at the same time. You flipped three pancakes onto a plate that already had a few, before pouring more batter into the pan, making three more pancakes.

“Morning,” you said, when you finally saw Sam. You kept your pace though, sprinkling cheese across the eggs before flipping it over, creating an omelet, then added more cheese on top. “We got pancakes,” you gestured to the plate beside you. “And eggs,” you gestured to the pan in front of you, before sliding the omelet onto a plate when the cheese was sufficiently melted. “And bacon and sausage,” you pointed to the other pan that was sizzling. “What would you like?”

Sam blinked a few times, still processing the site in front of her, it was just breakfast food, but everything looked so good, perfect almost, nothing was burnt. “An omelet, please,” Sam said, finally finding her voice.

You nodded, cracking another two eggs into the pan. “You guys didn’t have a ton of options but let me know what you want in it.”

Sam looked across the counter at the options, there was actually more than she thought there would be. “Just tomato and spinach.”

You gave a quick thumbs up before flipping the pancakes. You grabbed another plate, dumping all the bacon and sausage onto it. Tara came in, grabbing the plate of bacon and sausage and two separate plates with omelets.

“Morning,” Tara mumbled, taking the plates to the dining room table.

“Morning,” Sam replied, still watching you cook. She watched as you added the veggies to her omelet, flipped the omelet and added more cheese and veggies to the top of it. You flipped the pancakes onto the plate, Tara at your side the instant you were done and already taking the plate to the table. You quickly finished the omelet, sliding it onto a plate and holding it out to Sam with a smile.

Sam looked from the omelet up to you and back down to the omelet. She hesitantly took the plate but had to admit it looked just as good as everything else. “You can cook?” she couldn’t help but ask.

You just shrugged, turning off the stove as you followed Sam into the dining room. Sam set her plate down, taking a seat and got a full look at the table. The plate of pancakes, sausage and bacon, and a plate of toast was already laid out in the middle of the table.

“They can cook breakfast at least,” Tara said, shoving a fork full of omelet into her mouth. “Everything else, that’s debatable.” You scoffed, stabbing your fork into Tara’s omelet, and stealing a bite, she quickly slapped your hand, throwing a grumpy glare at you, making you chuckle.

“Thanks,” Sam said, looking down at the omelet.

You shrugged again. “It was the least I could do.”

Sam took a small bite of her omelet, and it was amazing, she hated how good of a cook you were. She almost wanted to say you could spend the night any night as long as you made breakfast in the morning. The three of you sat in a comfortable silence eating breakfast, slowly waking up the rest of the way. By the time you were all done almost everything was gone, except for a couple pancakes left over. Sam sighed, she hadn’t had breakfast that good in a long time, the diner she worked at didn’t even make breakfast that good.

The three of you moved into the living room, grabbing presents from under the little tree the sisters had put up. Tara and Sam exchanged gifts and then you handed Tara a little wrapped box, Sam was silently praying that it wasn’t a ring again. Her mouth fell opening as she looked up at you with questioning eyes when you handed her a present as well.

“Why is hers bigger?” Tara questioned, whipping her head around to look at you, holding the present she had gotten you out of reached.

You just chuckled at her. “Yours is more expensive?” you offered.

She narrowed her eyes at you but handed you the present. You happily took it, giving her a quick kiss. Without wasting any time Tara was ripping into the present you had gotten her. When she was done, she held a small jewelry box in her hand, it wasn’t a ring box though. Breakfast was good but if you had gotten Tara another ring Sam probably would have killed you. Tara lifted the lid, letting out a light gasp at the sight, she lifted the item out of the box to reveal a necklace. The necklace had a silver chain connected to a silver pendant with her birthstone in the center, it matched the ring you had gotten for her birthday. Sam might have hated the ring at first, but she had to admit you had good taste in jewelry. Tara held out the necklace for you, moving her hair so you could place it around her neck.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, pulling you in for a long kiss, acting as if Sam wasn’t still sitting right there. “Thank you.”

Tara then ripped into her present from Sam, letting out an exciting gasp at the machete. “This is awesome!” she held up the machete, a crazy look in her eye. Your eyes widened, instantly going to Sam, silently asking her if she was serious.

“It’s not sharp,” Sam quickly said. She could see you physically relax as she calmed your fears.

Tara pouted a little at the new knowledge but still twirled the machete in her hand, looking closely at the etching. “This is so cool,” Tara said again. “Thank you.”

You opened your present from Tara, jumping to your feet to reveal two videogames. Sam had no idea what the games were, but you were acting like a little kid, so she assumed her sister did a pretty good job. “Thanks babe,” you said, giving Tara a quick kiss, making her blush.

It was Sam’s turn; she slowly opened her present from Tara. “Holy shit,” she whispered as she took out the little box. Tara had gotten her ear buds, she had been looking at a pair forever because she wanted some for when she went for a run or to the gym, but she could never pull the trigger, they were always too expensive for her to justify. “Thank you.”

As Sam started to unwrap the box you had gotten her, she caught a mischievous smirk on your face. Sam almost paused her movements; she couldn’t even imagine what you had gotten her let alone what would cause that kind of smile on your face. Sam undid the rest of the wrapping paper, looking down at the box in front of her, she blinked a few times before glaring at you. You were smiling widely, nearly bouncing up in down in your seat.

“You’re an ass,” is all Sam said. She turned the box, revealing Woodsboro Monopoly, making you break out into laugh. Tara quickly slapped you but there was a small smile tugging at her lips as well.

“I’m sorry,” you said through laughter. “I couldn’t help myself,” you were practically wheezing. “I’ve had that for months.”

Sam couldn’t help but join in, lightly laughing at the game. “You know we did never get to finish our game.”

Your eyes lit up. “Yes!” you pumped a fist into the air.

“But I get to be the knife,” Sam said in a serious voice.

“Well, I’d expect nothing less.” Sam glared at your light jab. “I want to be the phone though.”

Tara groaned, rolling her eyes. “This means we have to suffer through another game of Monopoly,” she mumbled.

You gasped in offense. “It’s not my fault we were rudely interrupted last time,” you said.

Sam shook her head as she listened to you and Tara argued back and forth. Tara might hate monopoly, but it was only a matter of time before she conceded. You would probably even convince her to wait for the twins to be back and would probably drag Danny over and force everyone to play the new version they now had for game night. Sam relaxed into her chair, watching as you and Tara argued with smiles, you were slowly growing on her, not that she’d ever tell you that.

After presents the rest of the day was uneventful. The three of you just spent a lazy day lounging in the apartment, watching Christmas movies on TV again, even though you all had seen all of them within the last few days. When night finally came, Tara was curled into your side, your arm wrapped tightly around her as she was sound asleep with her head resting on your shoulder.

“Night,” Sam whispered, getting up to head to bed herself.

“Wait, Sam,” you called out, looking back but making sure not to turn enough to disturb Tara. Sam stopped in the doorway, looking back at you. “Thank you,” you whispered, dropping your eyes for a second before meeting hers again. “I really appreciate you inviting me over. This has really meant a lot.”

Sam nodded. “You’re always welcome here.” She looked away from you, opening and closing her mouth a few times. “Sorry, I kicked you out earlier.” You gave her a soft smile, shrugging lightly. “You’re now expected to join us every year,” she said in an annoyed tone, but you laughed, catching the playfulness underneath.

Sam went to bed that night with a smile. She had wanted Christmas day with just her and her sister but you joining them ended up making it better than she could have imagined. This ended up being the best Christmas she ever had, and Tara would probably agree with her. It seemed the cycle of tainted memories and disappointing Christmas’s were over; she was more than happy to make new memories with Tara and was even okay with you being in those new memories now.

You still annoyed the hell out of her, but she didn’t miss the way you brought a lightness to the group, even after everything that happened, even though you were still struggling, you managed to still find the humor in things. If Sam was being honest with herself, she was now looking forward to you joining her and Tara or the group for holidays, birthdays, and other big events. If anyone asked her if she were happy, you were there, she would deny it but inside, she was happy to have you around.

Taglist: @screechcat

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

Merry Christmas, Darling

Word Count: 1,200 (Tiny for me, but I haven't written in almost a year so forgive me.)

Summary: Ominis is going to miss you over the holidays. || Ominis Gaunt x reader|| Hurt but with plenty of comfort.

Warnings: This is as fluffy as a good sweater.

In the eyes of Ominis Gaunt, Christmas was a complicated thing. He loved it. Truly. Though, he'd never actually had one until he was eleven years old - when Anne and Sebastian Sallow invited him to their uncle's cottage in Feldcroft. They asked him to be there, they told him all these stories about how muggles celebrate the holiday, and their modest Christmas dinner was the best thing he'd ever tasted. The whole house felt so warm.

And... 

They gave him gifts. 

No one had ever done that. 

He hadn't had anything for them that first time, but they told him that was alright. Of course, he had remedied his ignorance every year afterward and for three more blissful years, everything was perfect. 

Until fifth year, when Ominis' only Christmas gift was comforting Anne through her nightmares – frightful visions of a goblin disemboweling itself in front of her. And her brother's manic grin. 

Ominis was sixteen now, and Sebastian was gone. Anne was too. 

In all his time at school, he'd never gone home for winter break and he didn't intend to now. Even if he had nowhere to go instead. 

Because you were leaving him too. 

He'd be, once again, alone.

You'd be going home to your own family to spend Christmas surrounded by love and warmth. Not that he wasn't happy for you, he was! But you wouldn't be with him.  It wasn't your fault. You'd begged your parents to let him come along. 

But why, oh why, would they ever approve? How could they possibly want him – a Gaunt – in their household? 

"That family has a reputation, Y/N." They'd said.

Well, they were right. And he was bitter. And he was sad. And he just wanted to spend Christmas with you. Why was that too much to ask?

He heard you sigh next to him. The sound brought him back to reality. You hadn't left for home yet. You'd leave in the morning. For now, however, you were curled up against him on the sofa in front of the fireplace in the Slytherin Common Room. The flames crackled and roared and he so adored the scent of pine and applewood burning. You hadn’t left him yet. He could still feel you. 

Your cheek against his shoulder. Your hand in his. You smelled like peppermint.

“I wish you could come with me,” You whispered. And you didn’t say you wished you could stay. Because you loved your family and he was so happy that you did. He wished he had the same luxury.

“As do I,” He said. He tried to smile.

“I’ll miss you.”

“I hope you will.” He knew he’d miss you so much more. 

He felt you shift, resting your forehead against his arm now, stroking from his forearm to his hand. You drew in a breath.

“Greeting cards have all been sent… the Christmas rush is through. But I still have one wish to make, a special one for you.” The tune was slow and you sang it so softly. He’d be the only one in the common room to hear it. You didn’t have the most beautiful voice he’d ever heard, but in that moment, you sounded like an angel. Ominis squeezed your hand tighter. 

“Merry Christmas, darling. We're apart, that's true. But I can dream, and in my dreams, I'm Christmas-ing with you.”

“That’s a very nice thought.” He interrupted, unable to stop a smile from tugging at the corner of his lips. You laughed and kept singing. 

“Holidays are joyful. There's always something new. But every day's a holiday. When I'm near to you.” He ducked his head and blushed, and not just a little bit. See, you were one of those people who never said a word you didn’t mean - unlike him. You were always so sincere. 

“Oh, how flattering.”

You kissed the back of his hand.

“The lights on my tree, I wish you could see. I wish it every day.”

“Why would I need them when I have you?” He murmured. As if you weren’t doing enough, you leaned in to kiss his cheek. You were warm. You’d take your warmth with you.

“Logs on the fire fill me with desire to see you and to say that I wish you Merry Christmas. Happy New Year too. I've just one wish on this Christmas Eve. I wish I were with you.”

He couldn’t take it anymore. He stood up abruptly, grabbed your soft, warm hands, and pulled you up against him. You were wearing his sweater. It was far too big for you so he had to go searching for your hands in its sleeves, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. One arm around your waist, yours around his neck, your hand in his. 

“Dance with me?” He breathed. “Just once more… before you go.” 

And sure, you wouldn’t be leaving him forever. But it would feel like longer.

You laughed that sweet laugh of yours and he knew that if he could bottle the atmosphere around them, that emotion on his tongue would keep him warm through the winter. He held you tighter, trying to memorize every inch, every layer of your scent. There was peppermint, and cinnamon, chocolate, and pine. He loved it all. You smelled like the only home he had left. When you were gone, your scent was all he’d have of you. Your family was poor as dirt. Ominis didn’t care, but your parents wouldn’t allow you any money to spend on him of all people. You were the only gift he wanted now anyway. Your presence alone was too much to ask, yet you gave it so willingly.

“Logs on the fire fill me with desire to see you and to say that I wish you a Merry Christmas. Happy New Year too. I've just one wish on this Christmas Eve, I wish I were with you.” You stood up on your tip-toes to whisper to him. Your hand found its way into his hair. “I wish I were with you.”

His breath hitched and what was a dance collapsed into a longing embrace. He held you as tight as he could, burying his face in your shoulder. Though he wasn’t one to be so cavalier with expressions of emotion, he couldn’t help but dip his head to nip at your collarbone. The mark he knew he’d leave wasn’t for him. He just… didn’t want you to forget, was all. And he had to leave more kisses - a trail of them along your perfectly smooth throat. He hoped the taste of your skin would keep his cheeks burning through the January freeze.

You were the one to kiss his lips. When you pulled away, you placed your hands on his cheeks and rubbed your nose against his.

“Merry, Merry, Merry Christmas…” You whispered. 

He sighed.

“Merry Christmas, darling.”

That sweater of his that you were wearing… after wishing you farewell at the train station, he’d find it folded on his bed when he got back. It smelled like you. A note in Braile accompanied it. 

“To keep you warm until I return. Wear it. (I cast a preservation charm on it this morning.)”

He did wear it. And your scent on the wool didn’t fade until you returned and tugged it off him.

This fic is dedicated to @witchcraftandgeekness for telling me to f#ck everybody. Not in the sexy way.

[rustboxstarr]

🏖Grown Ups🏖 part 1

Summary: You've been pulling away from Eddie recently its not until summer vacation that you finally find your way back to him.

Pairings: Dad!Eddie Munson x PlusSize!Mom!Reader

Warnings: Holy hell prepare yourself -> worrying about R potentially cheating, angst, talk of sex, slightly derogatory talk of sex, Gareth is a womanizer (Sorryyyyy needed someone to be!), alcohol consumption, thoughts of sex, thoughts tiddie fucking, kissing, Eddie being kinda desperate and horny for sex but trying to be respectful, nudity, R has tattoos, nipple and belly button piercing, body insecurity (Don’t worry Eddies just being a weirdo, she loves herself otherwise!), smoking, Steve being an insightful mama hen and apparently knows how women function (Steves a sweetheart, we want all men to be like Steve), light confrontation, looming anxiety, drunken accidental grinding, groping, R being to drunk to remember ALMOST having sex , threats of violence, tiddie sucking, hickeys, oral f receiving, fingering, squirting, interruptions, talk of oral m receiving, Smut P in V, no cut offs or dividers, sorry forgot to put them in. I tried to stay away Y/N I rly did but I think it slipped in once or twice (Sorry not sorry 😈)

Wordcount: Short and sweet only 22.2k........ (Yeah this fic quite literally ripped the idea in my head and sprinted away with it like it was wanted for murder (Get it? HAHAHAHA (Explaining my jokes, I love myself))

A/N: So I was watching Grown Ups (2010) the other day and thought it was so funny when all the guys talk about how little they have sex with their wives, but then it spiraled and got slightly angsty but personally I love this! Character list and ages under the cut :)

Love yas!

Part 2

Drawings I made for the fic for some visuals 😊

Grown Ups masterlist

Check out my other works!

Max (35), Lukas (35) - twins Eric (6) and Billy (6)

El (35), Mike (35) - no kids

Dustin (35), Suzie (35) - Willow (11 months)

Eddie (41), You (40) - Ophelia (10) and Roxette (7)

Gareth (37) - single, no kids

Luke -unnamed freak (39), Simone (38) - Tom (5) and Oliver (3) - not that it matters but Simone is african american so the kids are mixed incase it might be nice to visualise 

Jeff (37), Tracy (45) - Ariana (16) (Tracy's daughter)

Will (35), Winter (33) - no kids

Steve (40), Nancy (39) - Mercy (11), Lousie (9), Rachel (7), Marcus(5), Bianca (3) and Dustin (2)

Jonathan (39), Charlotte (41) - Emma (6), Charlie (4) and Lilly (2)

Robin(39), Vickie(39) - no kids

Argyle (40), Eden (38) - no kids

------------

Summer 1998, the sun was shining bright against the pastel blues of the sky, temperatures rising all over the country, it was the best time of the year, 10 year old Ophelia and 7 year old Roxette were off school for the summer holidays, you had your 6 weeks off and Eddie took leave from work, cashing his holidays in broken up during the 9 weeks of summer to be with you and his kids. Mid june and the Munson family had gotten the chance to rest for the first 5 days before the roadtrip to Dustin’s late granny’s lakehouse in Muskegon, the five hour road trip delayed with multiple food stops, toilet breaks, a few car boot sales which signs had caught you eye, one mall trip to stave off Roxy’s crying when she realised she forgot to pack her bathing suit and a few leg stretchers to keep both the kids from going crazy in the backseat. 

Ophelia had grown up to become a relatively quiet kid, calm, never too temperous and always content with following around with the grown ups plan, god knows how, neither you nor Eddie were ever people to be considered calm and peaceful. In your youth running around being chased by Hopper after breaking into abandoned places, caught drunk encouraging Eddie to piss on the large bronze statue situated in front of the mayor's office, shoplifting, vandalism, disturbing the peace, there had even been one time where Hopper had knocked on Wayne’s trailer door, two embarrassed soon to be adults stood behind him, wrapped up in blankets with not a single other article of clothing on for modesty after giving you both a ‘ride home’ as you liked to joke. 

The straight defiance of US laws simmered down after Ophelia came along but partying, loud obnoxious jokes, crazy schemes and dramatic displays of affection were still something very normal for the two of you. Well normal up until the last six months or so where it had simmered down. The both of you were still cuddly and giggly and chummy with each other, but lately it seemed you both had drifted apart, admittedly you more than him.

Roxette however seemed to have taken to both of you, couldn't sit still, always loud, always on the move, yup she was the embodiment of both yours and Eddie’s personalities, the same reason as to why the five hour road trip pushed 9 hours. Roxy could barely handle the 20 minute drive to school…

Up at 8 am packing the kids into the car with plenty of books, comics, cd’s and toys you set out. Eddie at the wheel of your 95 Mitsubishi Mirage while you cozied under a blanket next to him, head lolling on your shoulders threatening to tip you over until you adjusted yourself to sit up against the window as you let that comforting dull, cloudy feeling overtake you and drift you off to sleep. In the back Roxette was fast asleep while Ophelia bobbed her head in tune to Tupak Shakur’s latest album R U Still Down? playing in the round silvery cd player Eddie kept in the glove compartment, staring out at the trees whizzing past the window. 

The clock was nearing 5 pm when the car pulled off the bumpy road -with Eddie in the passenger seat- over the gravel parking lot to what Dustin had called The Henderson Castle. A quaint surprisingly large cabin in dark mahogany wood panelling, green chipping edging and beams matching the green steps to the bright blue double doors. Lake Michigan painted the horizon behind the garden, a small private beach next to a short dock attached to a boathouse and a sailboat tied to the wood panels, a rack of 5 canoes resting on the old water stained wood. Wooden beach chairs and plastic loungers framed in by the litter of trees and behind a picnic table and worn down monkey bars. 

Eddie took to emptying the boot of duffle bags and food bags while you urged Ophi and Roxy out of the back. Cars of different prince rages surrounded them as things were retrieved out of the vehicle, “Well well well look who decided to show up!” Dusting grinned from the front door, carrying a little girl on his hip who tucked her head into his shoulder in shyness. 

Matching grins were shone at the 35 year old as he descended the steps to greet you “What's up man!” Eddie patted him on the back in a one armed hug before he went around to give you a proper hug. “Hi! I’m Roxette” your daughter said excitedly, Dustin bent down to talk to her “I know, we've met before” his voice was sweet and mischievous as he stuck out his hand for Roxette to shake. 

You were all hustled into the house where a large group of people were scattered around the kitchen, dining table to your left and living room to your right behind the kitchen, all hollering in delight as your family of four stepped over the threshold. Hugs were exchanged as well as ‘took you long enough’s and ‘did you learn to read the clock in your three years of senior year’s, soon enough a wide spread of food, carefully put out by Dustin's wife Suzie had been devoured and catch ups had been exchanged. 

Dustin had taken the duty of showing everyone to their rooms, Jonathan’s three kids, Emma, Charlie and Lily, Luke’s Carl and Tom, Steve and Nancy's six nuggets Mercy, Lousie, Rachel, Marcus, Bianca and Dustin, Max and Lucas’s twin boys Eric and Billy, as well as Ophelia and Roxette were all given the privilege of sharing the well lit and cozy basement. 17 kids with the exception of Willow who had her own little bed with Dustin and Suzie and Ariana, Jeff’s 16 year old step daughter who got her own room, were all over the moon, excited about causing as much ruckus as they could. Parents and couples alike all directed upstairs to the second and third floor for their own bedrooms in the impressive lakehouse. 

The time on Eddie’s watch showed 11:32 as he took it off and placed it on his temporary nightstand for the next week when you crawled under the patchwork cover and got yourself comfortable on your side. Teeth brushed, clothes changed, good nights said and bags unzipped it was time to turn in for the night. Something about being on the go for 8 and a half hours and then making conversation in a room full of 39 other people was extremely exhausting and it caught up to you as your head nestled into the plush worn cotton pillow. 

You heard Eddie yawn loudly behind you as he no doubt flung his balled up fists out in the air, stretching like a cat by the side of the bed. He rustled behind you until you felt the cover lift and a warm body dip into the mattress, humming as he scooted over to wrap his arms around you and hold your back to his chest. You bathed in his embrace, happy and content cuddling up with your husband until, you felt him move again to press his hips against your. A soft grunt escaped your lips as Eddie pushed his hard on to nestle between your ass cheeks, on display from the back of your threadbare t-shirt riding up. 

“Mm Eddie I’m really tired” you groaned quietly, nestling further into his arms wrapped around you. You heard him sigh and had your eyes been open you would have undoubtedly rolled them at his reaction “We’ve been on the go since 8 am, I’m really not in the mood” you further explained “I know baby” Eddies breathed slightly disappointed, in the back of his mind he had hoped that the change of scenery might get you exited, possibly put a stop to the dry spell you had seemed to be going through. “Lets just go to sleep yeah?” he whispered, fingers crossed that his disappointment and slight annoyance at his idea being wrong couldn't be detected in his voice. You hummed in agreement as Eddie slackened behind you and fell asleep. 

The morning had been hectic, starting off already at 7 am when both girls rushed in to find their clothes, awakening you as they spoke loudly “Girls you know this” Eddie sighed as he tiredly sat up on his side of the bed, pulling his warm grasp away from you “Knock on the door, don't just barge in” he was slightly exasperated as he told them off “But were on vacation!” Roxette whined as she paused in rifling through one of the bags “Yeah well the rule still applies”. Even though it might be mostly your fault it was still funny that he was dictating a rule set in place so they wouldn't walk in on you having sex when you actually hadn’t even had sex in god knows how long. 

The reason why you were mostly at fault for the fact was that yes you were the first to cool down with initiating it but you didn't accept Eddie’s advances even when he tried. But recently you just hadn’t been in the mood, work had been hectic and you barely had time for each other, to top it all off lately you’d just felt a dip in your confidence. The fact that you were now in your 40s just seemed to catch up with your busy brain, you didn't look the way you did when you and Eddie first got together, or even the way you did just a few years ago. You'd always been on the bigger side of scales but that never bothered you, in fact your looks weren’t even the problem, objectively. It was the way you felt inside, old, tired, unnatractive, it had caused you to pull back from him, curl in on yourself and throw yourself into being a mom and a good boss. 

Eddie had to keep reminding himself that there wasn't a chance in the realm of possibility that the reason you were staying late at work had anything to do with anything other than work. Something he found himself telling his brain a lot whenever your nearest colleague Greg resurfaced in his mind. Greg was a sweet lovely man who worked just below you, but it was hard to remind himself of that as he thought about the many hours you spend at work alone with him. Even though he was a good kind soul he was undoubtedly attractive, even though he knew you were loyal to your husband and he to his wife and even though he knew he was more your type than Greg was it was still a constant bicker in his brain. 

–

The rest of the morning was even worse, such a drastic change from lounging around the house or almost falling asleep on a blanket in the yard as you attempted to read. Kids were everywhere, everyone was talking, moving around and trying to get to the food served for breakfast, it was stressful to say the least. You were used to large crowds, parties, concerts and other events but now it was just too much, and it seemed to show as Eddie wrapped his arms around your shoulders behind you, planting a kiss to your temple as you talked to Tracy, Jeff’s wife. You appreciated the gesture, even though you hadn’t been all too close to him recently and it was clearly beginning to frustrate him he was still there for you, something that made your heart squeeze. 

Finally around noon the pace had slowed, some kids were occupied with games and crafts inside while your own played with Luke's, Steve and Nancy's kids in the water. Splashing around happily as Nancy floated around nearby while you took the chance to get to know Luke's wife Simone and Jeff’s Tracy better. Eddie, Steve, Gareth, Jeff and Luke all lounged around on the chairs pushed into the sand just as it turned to grass behind them. 

“So Gare, still sad and single?” Jeff chuckled as he sipped a matching cool beer to the rest “Hah! Sad? I’d take being single any day over commitment and fuckin’ kids” he scoffed, legs spread wide as he tanned under the sun in baggy ombre trunks. “Hey having kids aint that bad” Steve grinned “Oh sure, I bet it's a riot being woken up at 5 am by 6 little assholes every morning” he chuckled. 

The sun was high up in the sky, water glittering under the shine as it splashed around by the kids shrieking and laughing. “Ugh, had to remind mine to knock on the fucking door this morning, both of them just waltzed in like they owned the place” Eddie supplied as he looked over at you. Stood by the waters edge laughing at a story Simone was telling, his eyes scanned down your frame quickly, lavender purple full briefs that came up to your waist, just below that glittering jem butterfly hanging from your belly button, a ruching detail at the front and a matching purple halter top to match. He had to look away before he began oggling at your round curves at the way the haltertop bikini pushed your tits up to each other, fuck he would have loved to kiss all the way down your throat and over your chest. 

“Ooh ‘fraid the kids are gonna walk in and be scarred for life by your pasty white ass?” Gareth laughed at his joke as his eyes flicked over to you too. “Pffft” Eddie deprecatingly shooed “Nah man, that hasn't been a risk for like ages” he took a large gulp of the cold beer in his hands “Now that I think about it, hasn't been a risk since like before christmas” 

“That's what marriage does to ya, too high on the feeling of new love and sparkly lights of wedding planning till they dim and she sees your ugly face at the altar” Gareth sat up to inspect Eddie slightly, Eddie laughed along with the others “Man shut up” he managed through a smile.”She's not pregnant is she?” Luke piped up as everyone was now looking over at the subject in question. 

From the corner of your eye you noticed the attention and turned slowly with a soft confused frown, Steve and Luke smiled at you as Jeff quickly averted his gaze, Eddie giving you a forced smile before he slapped Gareth's hand down which was waving at you, fingers wiggling as a seductive smiled painted his features. Your frown deepened as you awkwardly waved back and turned back to the other moms. 

Eddie's face switched from annoyed to questioning as he turned from Gareth to Luke “What?” his brows pinched as wrinkles formed on his forehead. “Well when Simone is pregnant she gets kinda distant, doesn’t wanna do anything” he further explained. “Nah man she’s not pregnant, she's got an implant” 

“Eh, dont beat yourself up about it, me and Nancy barely have any time for ourselves let alone fucking” Steve waved him off. “Yeah well she's had six kids, probably sick of your junk by now” Jeff chuckled, an eye roll from Steve in return. 

“I dunno, she's just busy, got alot on with work and the kids” he pushed his sunglasses further up his face as the sun resurfaced out of a cloud. He did not want to mention Greg and listen to Gareth's lude comments or let any of the others feed him delusions. You were not cheating. “Who knows, maybe she's sick of your junk too. Tell ya what, send her my way I’ll get her walking out a happy woman” Gareth smirked wickedly. “If you don't shut your mouth I’m gonna come over there and beat the shit out of you” he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees to look over at Gareth who put his hands up in surrender. 

“Apart from Steve am I the only one not getting some action” before Gareth had a chance to open his mouth Eddie pointed at him “and you shut up” he sneered. “I mean Ariana’s like 16 so she's never really home, so we do.. get the house to ourselves quite a bit..” Jeff answered sheepishly “Great” Eddie turned to Luke “Mine are fuckin’ 3 and 5 but I mean we have some time sometimes” Luke shrugged “How often is sometimes?” Luke cleared his throat and dropped his voice to an awkward tone “Like.. two… three times.. a week” he looked out at the water. 

“Jesus christ, so it's not like a normal thing?” he slumped back in his chair, looking back at you, smiling widely as you now stood splashing water at Roxette, not on the beach anymore. “Have you talked to her?” Jeff asked “I mean no not really, but she's made it obvious she doesn’t wanna do anything, so I've just kinda backed off” he looked back at his friend. “But you've tried like starting something?” “Yeah, less and less now but yeah” 

“You tried getting her drunk?” Gareth chuckled but fell dead silent as Eddie began to lean forward about to get up and smack him “Chill chill!” he held his hands out in front of him, awaiting the attack. “I just meant loosen her up a little, get her relaxed maybe put her mind off things” 

“You're a dick” Eddie flipped him off “He does kind of have a point, maybe she’ll relax a bit” Luke cleared his throat “We could I dunno all sit ‘round the fire after all the kids have gone to bed. Then she might not have to worry about that ya know?” 

“I mean I guess, but isn't that like a complete asshole move, get her drunk just so I can get her into bed?” he made a slight look of disgust at the thought “Not drunk, just a little I guess tipsy?” 

The conversation continued for a while before the topic changed to Jeff's new job, all sat in the sun basking in the light, soaking it up and talking about nonsense. Ophelia and Roxy came out of the water and Eddie watched as you dried them off lovingly and led them up to the house. He was nursing his fourth beer, head starting to go a little fuzzy as Simone too sent Tom and Oliver up to the house, Nancy was left throwing Bianca around in the water as the other three laughed and all shouted me! me! Me!’s, Dustin the two year old splashing happily by the waters edge. Simone and Tracy made their way up the sand to sit with the guys. 

Tracy told Jeff she was going to check on Ariana as Simone plopped herself down in Luke’s lap happily giving him a kiss following up with a giggle when she pulled back “Jesus how many beers have you drank”. She sat mostly quiet as they all continued, now about some recent U.S news, jumping in to add to the conversation as she draped her arm around Luke's shoulders. 

Eddie had his back to the house as he opened his fifth beer and leaning back even more into the chair, he didn't see as you came back out of the house walking down towards them. Only laying eyes on you as you rounded his chair at the end of the row of them facing the water, barely registering you before you stood before him. As the others continued talking he looked up at you expectantly, waiting for you to say something, assuming you had come to ask something of him. His heart skipped a beat as you inched closer to him, his fingertips grazing your thigh. “Can I sit?” you ask with a sweet smile, his cloudy brain was too gone with the cool fizzing beer to register that you had spoken as he broke out in a grin witnessing your happy face, it warmed him to see you, you being happy made him happy. He suddenly realised you had talked to him and shook his head attempting to look up at you more serious, you giggled softly at him as he straightened his face up, but hearing those sweet little noises of content made that dopey grin fall right back into place “I said, can I sit?” your voice was so sweet it made his whole brain stop. 

“Oh, yeah” he chuckled as he sat up properly, hands itching to touch you. His dopey grin became even dopier, even wider as you turned and bent down to place yourself in his lap, legs coming to curl up and feet slot between his thigh and the space under the armrest. When you settled Eddie’s hand holding his beer settled over your thighs and his other came around your waist, wrapping around you and pulling you towards him to lean against his chest. He almost died as he saw your smile widen at the action and nestle into him, and then even wider as he placed a kiss to your shoulder. He was on cloud nine at the fact that you were sitting in his lap, smiling away. You haven't sat in his lap for a long looong time and the fact that you did it so easily made his heart squeeze and his head spin. 

“Oh Simone you never got to tell me about your trip!” you exclaimed as the conversation quieted down “Oh right! So-” she began to recount her crazy trip to Japan she had taken a few weeks ago for work as Eddie took another sip of his beer, light shock painting his features as you took the bottle from him and took your own gulp while you listened intently. The sun was almost right behind Simone and you began to squint as you tried making eye contact with her, you turned to look down at Eddie for only a second before you realised he had his sunglasses on. Casually you reached up a hand to pull them off him and place them on your nose, Eddie chuckled at the action which made you giggle slightly as you continued listening. 

With no glasses on now, everything was a lot brighter, he settled into the new position and calmed down from his excitement and finally got a chance to register what you were wearing. A floral short white skirt he had seen before, he remembered well, because last time you had worn it was last year dropping the kids off at Steve’s for a sleepover. Oh he remembered it very well, last time your worn it you'd snuggled up to him on a blanket in the far end of the garden, hidden by trees and bushes, only to be seen from the house and gotten a little bit frisky, teasing turned to tickling which turned to Eddie lying on top of you pounding into you at a furious pace with your panties pushed to the side. 

The memories flooded back to him and he realised that if he just moved his hand on your waist down a little bit, and then a little bit more he would find the hem of it and could slip his hands under the fabric to rest his broad palm on the fat of your ass, give you a little squeeze. Before he had time to consider it his eyes cast a glance at your top. Fuck. That brown crochet halter top that he had seen you curled up on the couch making as you watched tv in late January. From his position he could see right over you, tits pushed together by the way the triangles tied behind your neck, could see that one little freckle he always liked to give a kiss, could see that little scar almost hidden on the right. Fuck he wanted to grab them, and kiss them, and suck on your nipples to draw that one little whine at first contact, no he wanted to watch them bounce up and down in you bra as you rode him, no! He wanted to watch them bounce up and down as he sat back on his calves thrusting into you so aggressively that your tits would bounce up and slap you in the face and make you roar out laughing, NO! he wanted to hover over your ribs as you looked up at him with that twinkle in your eyes as you held your tits together, mushing around his cock slipping back and forth in the lube he kept in his nightstand. FUCK. 

He had to look away, something, something that could find his attention, yes the tag on the bottle you were holding, yeah he was gonna read that. Now is not the time to get hard you asshole, she’s only just sat in your lap, for the first time in ages! on your dick… like right on it… no, fuck, you piece of shit, she’s gonna feel if you get hard and she’s not gonna be happy about it. Well she is smiling, she seems really happy.. Yeah so don’t ruin it fucker, remember last night? Yeah exactly. He was fighting with himself as he pretended to read the beer bottle, eyes following as it moved from its place on the arm rest with your hands loosely wrapped around it, followed it up to your lips as he saw you laugh and press your lips to the rim. 

Oh shit those lips he wanted to kiss so badly, wait maybe he could? That's ok right? Kissing? We still kiss? It's not like we don't kiss? Fuck it, if he wanted to kiss his wife, he was going to kiss his wife. 

As you brought the bottle back down to the armrest Eddie moved on instinct, his body working faster than his brain, his hand slunk out from under your arms and up to cup your cheek, causing you to turn to him in question, eyebrows raised awaiting him to say something. He didn't say anything, he only began to pull his hand back, slowly bringing you with him. He closed his eyes, it felt like forever, forever forever forever, until suddenly soft lips on his. Everything was in slow motion as if the world stopped around him as moisturised soft plump lips met his own, barely a craze, just a touch and then more, closer, lips pressing slowly to each other and then at its destination, pressed against your lips in a kiss that made him explode inside. Suddenly your lips drew back and so did you. 

It was just a peck, a simple peck, but it made his heart stop, as well as time, the world and just about everything else around him. A sigh escaped his chest in content as he opened his eyes to see you smile down at him, his own smile quickly matching yours before you drew back and looked back to Simone. His brain was swimming around in a pool in his head, everything was a daze as he watched you lick your lips and grin slightly, turning to him again to whisper “Taste like beer” that cute nose in a scrunch as you spoke to him. 

The daze halted as he chuckled “You too” which earned a smile from you and moved his hand back to splay across your thighs. Finally he turned to the rest of the group and lay notice to Steve a knowing wide grin directed at you, Simone in full ramble as Luke looked up at her in awe, Jeff listening in, and Gareth with an evil smirk on his lips, staring right at him. Eddie's smile faded and was replaced with a sneer directed towards his friend. Gareth's eyes flicked to you and back to Eddie as he mouthed an ooh which made Eddie's loose grip on you tighten immediately and pull you even closer to him, this time not easing up on his hold but insistent on holding you close, as if shielding you from Gareth. 

Lunch came along not soon after, thankfully not as hectic as breakfast as Dustin and Suzie had grilled a bunch of hotdogs of various diets and put them all on one table along with bread, ketchup, mustard and dried onions. Everyone free to get drinks out of the various coolers around the kitchen. 

The rest of the day was very similar to the morning, everyone hustled outside once the temperatures dropped a few degrees. Both you and Eddie had kept an eye on the girls as you mingled with all the parents and friends around the beach until eventually you walked up to Eddie placing your hand gently by his elbow to tell him you were going to go further up and lie down on a blanket and read in the grass. Eddie had taken the role of watching over the kids as they swam in the lake, at first only watching from the waters edge as he spoke to Dustin and Mike until he ran out on the jetty and cannonballed right next to Roxette, hitting the bottom immediately and landing right on his ass bouncing up to be splashed back in the face by Ophelia. She screamed in laughter as he picked her up and threw her away from him. 

When he came up again water dripping down his skin he rejoined Steve and Lucas, as Lucas turned to tell Max something Steve nudged him and cocked his head behind him to the grass “Your wifes asleep” he chuckled as he motioned for Eddie to see you on your stomach, face resting in your crossed arms and book falling from your loosened grasp on it. “Go, I’ll look after the kids” he grinned as Eddie turned back to him. “You sure? I don't wanna-” “Yes I’m sure, just go spend some quality time with your girl” he grinned “Doubt it’ll be much quality time seeing as shes passed out but yeah ok, thanks dude” Eddie patted him on the back as he trudged through the sand, grabbing his towel on the way and patting himself dry. 

Yup you were fast asleep he noticed as he got to the blanket and heard your soft snores, he bent down and picked your book up, dog earring the page, closing it and tossing it down into the grass. He groaned softly as he crouched down, falling flat onto his back next to you. Propping his head up on one hand while the other lay limp against his stomach he stared up at the sky through his now retrieved sunglasses. His gaze broke to turn and look towards you as he heard you stir in your sleep, you twisted your hips to pull the leg facing him up in a bend, knee nudging his hip. You seemed to relax for a few seconds before you grunted and turned to fully lay on your side, hands coming to press together and hold your head up only slightly. 

Once again you relaxed and Eddie watched you amused with a smile on his face until suddenly an annoyed groan left you and the hand not forced against the ground slipped out from under your head shooting out in search of something. You blindly slapped lightly at the blanket before moving and slapping again, and again until your pinky came in contact with his skin, you hand lifted and slapped lightly against Eddie's chest, he had to fight the snort that threatened to fall from his throat as he watched you. 

Finally your hand seemed to find the right place on his chest but surprisingly enough you didn't relax again, instead still hazy with sleep and with your eyes closed you moved on the blanket towards him, forcing your hips forward until you were flush against him. A heavy head thudded to his chest forced an oof to spill from his lips and a thick thigh moved and dropped heavily to drape across him. 

You nestled up against him and finally you seemed to relax. 

Eddie was beaming, the hand previously on his stomach searching for his towel to prop it up under his head and letting him wrap his arms around you to hold you to him. Soft breathing matched up to an even rise and fall of both your chests as Eddie soaked you up. The happiness he was feeling didn't last though, soon enough he too had fallen asleep under the hot sun and your skin against his. 

Both of you awoke with groans as something landed on you, a very wet, very excited Roxette. “Why are you sleeping it's swim time!” she squealed as she rolled off Eddie and sat up. You groaned in pain as you too sat up “Cuz mom and dad are tired Roxy, so please don't jump on us” you told her as you stretched, Eddie doing the same from the ground. “But mom I wanna go play!” she stood up jumping up and down “Ok ok I’m coming hang on” Eddie was about to say something when you stood up and were whisked away by his daughter. 

Dinner was tapas, everybody had brought a dish or some sort of food from the store ready to eat from the get go and was set up this time by someone other than Dustin and Suzie. You talked happily to Robin, Nancy, Will and his boyfriend Winter as you all set out plates, cutlery and food for tiny hands to grab excitedly. You ate in conversation with most of the hellfire club as you sat next to Eddie on a worn leather couch, pressing up to him and letting him give you the occasional kiss to your temple or lips, smiling the whole time. Eventually your plate was finished off and Eddie felt you slump against him after putting your plate on the table. His hand wrapped around your shoulders to rest your head on his for a while until eventually you leaned up and told him you were going to lay down for a bit. 

You left with a squeeze to your hand and a sympathetic smile from your husband. You were planning on just having a lie down or maybe a quick nap but suddenly your clothes were to hot and too tight and too stifling so you quickly changed out of them and threw on the same ragged t-shirt from last night, falling onto the bed, not getting too comfortable because you didn't really want to fall asleep. The universe didn't seem to hear you though and soon you were fast asleep on top of the bed. 

That's how Eddie found you after putting the kids to bed an hour later, knowing they wouldn't sleep with all the excitement of the other kids around but getting them to brush their teeth and change into their pyjamas. They had asked Eddie where you were and why you weren't saying goodnight so Eddie had to explain “Moms not feeling very well so she's resting but she’ll probably come say night night later”. When you told him you were going to your room it seemed like you just needed some quiet but that was clearly not the case when he found you like a log atop the covers. 

He sighed, you needed your rest, the past year of work was clearly catching up to you but yet again he couldn't help the slight disappointment when he found you, he'd gotten hopeful and excited from the day, you'd been a lot more touchy than you ever had been the past few months, cuddling up to him, stealing kisses and it seemed that whenever you were near him you had a need to have some sort of contact, whether it be pressed up against him or his arm around you or even just your hand on his arm or thigh but he had to accept that you were too tired and needed to sleep. 

Carefully he pulled the covers from under you and placed them back on you as you adjusted in your sleep to lie on your side. Just like yesterday he got in next to you and wrapped his arms around you as the big spoon. Falling asleep to the scent of your hair which his nose was nuzzled against. 

This morning the girls actually knocked, waking Eddie from his light slumber to hum a yes at them to come in. Slowly you roused and sat up in bed to listen to your two excited girls tell you all about the cup phones they all made yesterday after dinner and how they had them crisscrossed around the room to talk to each other as Eddie rounded the bed, giving a kiss to your forehead before leaving the room to take a shower. 

You were more relaxed at breakfast now that you knew what was coming and you even enjoyed it, sat at the dining table in conversation with Argyle and his girlfriend Eden, Winter and Jonathan's wife Charlotte who got the group's attention by balancing her cereal bowl on her 8 months pregnant belly which you found out would be her and Jonathan's fourth. 

Across the room Eddie sat in an armchair next to Steve and Gareth “So you and your girl seemed to be very close yesterday” Steve leaned over and dropped his voice, “Yeah pay off? She put out?” Gareth grinned “That threat of me beating you ass is still on the table” Eddie stared at Gareth who only chuckled “But to answer your question, no she was asleep by the time I got to our room” Eddie shrugged, even if Gareth could be an assshole when it came to women he didnt want it to show that he was disappointed, it would only egg him on. 

“Maybe we could do that bonfire thing tonight?” Steve suggested lightly “Besides I wouldn't mind some fun with Nance, she gets so exited when shes drunk its fuckin hilarious” he grinned and looked over towards how wife “Last time she was jumping around imitating a bunny she saw on kids tv” the other two laughed at the picture. 

“Sure, we’ll go into town get some drinks, I think Dustin said he only had beer” Eddie shrugged happily. 

Today was not the different from yesterday, things to do inside and people down at the beach splashing away. “Hey” Eddie bent down to talk to you as you sat on the couch playing shoots and ladders with a few of the kids after lunch “so were all having a bonfire night once the kids have gone to bed” Eddie smiled wide at your happy smile “so me and some of the guys are heading into town to pick some stuff up” you nodded and gave him a kiss before he headed off with Will and Dustin. 

Dinner passed and you were pleasantly surprised that tiredness hadn’t overcome you. All the parents tucked their kids into bed and made a clear point that if anything were to happen they were just outside and to come get them if they needed to. 

Eddie called your name with a yo you in here? as he knocked on the bathroom door nearest your bedroom, instead of answering him you unlocked the door and peeped out an intense stare directed his way “Sorry you can't come in without a warrant” you broke out into a grin as you went to shut the door, Eddies hand grasping onto the wood and forcing it open in a fit of giggles as you tried to fight him. Finally he stumbled in, almost knocking you over and catching you in his arms. 

He locked the door behind him as he looked down at you “Mmm you smell nice” he hummed as his eyes took in your bare face, damp to match you hair, you giggled “Just had a shower” you explained as you slid out of his hold to pick your clothes off the floor. Eddie was slightly miffed as you brushed past him in just your towel and unlocked the door but he followed nonetheless. 

Walking behind you as you tread carefully over the floorboards, hips swaying from side to side as you walked, Eddie leaned back to get a full view of you, hair wet and dripping water over your shoulders, thighs peeking out from under the towel, only long enough to cover your ass, eyes rolling to the back of his head as the towel pulled up slightly to reveal a peak of the bottom. Within an instant his hands circled your waist and picked you up, leaning back on his feet to pull you up off the floor. You squealed at him to let you down as you giggled, only dropping you back down to land softly when he thought he might fall over backwards from bending to steep. 

“What was that?” you whispered as you began walking again, Eddie awkwardly tumbling along with his arms still around you “You just looked so liftable” he whispered back biting your cheek mischievously. You snorted an ok and opened the door to your bedroom. 

Today you had been in a good mood, it seemed the long night sleep and absence of pressure to be productive had taken to you and you were still on a high from it. So pleased that you didn't even let your mind work up into a frenzy as Eddie let you go and flopped onto the bed. 

You didn't think anything of it as you dropped the towel to change, the fact that Eddie hadn’t seen you naked since before christmas didn't even cross your mind. 

Stood with your back to him you rooted through your bag to find a comfortable pair of sweats and a hoodie, preparing for the cold outside now that the sun had gone beyond the horizon. Eddie sat up straight in an instant. Eyes bulging wide and trained on you as the towel dropped to the floor when you found your clothes. He swallowed thick as you moved to another bag to look for underwear. 

Holy shit. You were naked, like fully naked, no towel, no nothing covering you. Fuck he hadn’t seen this sight in over six months and here you were bathed in the moonlight and dim lighting of the old ceiling lamp, gold cast over your body, spotlighting the smooth skin, and rolls of your back, the stretch marks and cellulite of your thighs, the dimples in your back, every little colour and inked tattoo that showed in your skin. All out for him to see, all for him. 

You turned with your clothes clutched to your chest to see a pin straight Eddie with wide awestruck eyes, mouth open in shock. “What?” you chuckled confused as you walked over to the foot of the bed, dropping your clothes onto the fabric. Eddie's brain stopped working as your front was revealed to him, soft breasts sloping down in a natural drop, a sliver of metal and nipples almost out of sight, round and calling to him like two beams of light in the night, your soft stomach spilling down, a patch of hair covering your puffy mound, framed by your soft doughy thighs. Fuck he just wanted to grip and suck and lick and kiss everything he saw right now, matter of fact he wanted to get down on his hands and knees and worship the ground you walked on as well as whatever higher entity out there that had created you. 

You started to grow slightly uncomfortable under his gaze, suddenly feeling extremely exposed, an urge to cover yourself growing strong. In a rush you reached for your underwear to pull the black brazilian cut lace panties over your ass and hips. You looked over at Eddie again to see his mouth open and close as he blinked, awfully resembling a fish, it only encouraged you to get dressed faster, clasping the black bra and spinning it around to pull the straps up your arms. Once again you looked at Eddie, whose expression still had not changed, you threw the t-shirt over your head and jumped into your sweats, pulling the hoodie over yourself as you looked back. “Umm” Eddie started but trailed off “I'm going to the bathroom” you blurted out and within seconds you had practically ran out of the door. 

Eddie stayed still, blinking and trying to wrap his head around what he had just seen. Finally he snapped out of it and shook his head, falling over on his side with a loud groan, pulling at the sheet to cover his face. What is wrong with you?! Your wife is naked for the first time in fucking forever and you just sit there?! He groaned even louder as he smushed his face into the comforter. 

Finally you came to the realisation that you had just been naked in front of Eddie for the first time in a really long time, you rushed back into the bathroom and sat down on the toilet with your face in your hands. Well clearly you weren't just ugly on the inside now, you were ugly on the outside too. Why else would he just sit there and stare at you like you'd grown a second head? UGH what were you going to do?! You had finally loosened up, you were happy within yourself for the first time in ages and felt comfortable around Eddie again, you clearly should have had more control over yourself. He no longer found you attractive, Jesus Christ why were you kidding yourself?

A knock on the door broke you out of your spiral as you weakly asked a yes, the person outside of the door cleared their throat. It was Eddie. Oh, no, no no no no no. “Um, uh you wanna go down? Uh Mike just said the fire is lit” his voice sounded strained, uncomfortable. He was uncomfortable because he’d seen you naked and didnt like it, and now you had nowhere to hide AAAARGHHHH. “Yeah sure” your voice was broken as you spoke. 

Slowly slowly you stand, slowly slowly you step towards the door, and slowly slowly you turn the nob. Eyes pinned to the floor as you walk out of the door, you see Eddie's feet as you walk past them and walk down the hall, you hear him follow behind you. This is the worst feeling, so much worse than coming home late from work hungry, or being in too big of a crowd, or too tight clothes on a hot sweaty day, this unease is so much worse. 

Time ticks by slowly as you feel like you're walking to your execution, feet dragging across the floor shameful as Eddie walks behind you. Anxiety, heartbreak, stress, unease, insecurity all bubble up in your chest, threatening to bubble up to the surface through hot tears if you let yourself. You feel it in your chest, plummeting down to your stomach and spreading all through your body like slim black vines as if a disease, darkening everything inside you. Until a touch, a slight intentional braze of fingers that send sparks, gold touching at your hip and overpowering some of the black. Gold vines take over throughout your hip as you feel a soft hand grasp onto it, guiding you down the stairs. 

Another spark of gold bleeding out into your vines on the other as Eddie holds softly onto your hips as your feet hit the ground floor. Gold vines that threaten to overpower the black and meet in the middle just below your belly button. Your breath hitches and speeds up in anxiety. 

One hand leaves your hip and the gold dies off as quickly as it came, as the first on your right hip slips to hold the small of your back, the gold follows, bleeding from its starting point and stretching as you bend down to slip into your sneakers. The hand never wavers as Eddie leans down to slip his own shoes on, the heat from it causing the gold to continue without the order of touch, spreading slowly through your back, creeping up your spine in a shiver. 

He opens the door to near 20 people scattered around a brazen fire, reds and oranges contrasting the deep dark blues of the sky and the shade its cast around them all. You step cautiously down the now dark green stairs, feet hitting the gravel before they hit grass as you veer off to the side away from the parking lot. “Hey” Eddie whispered beside you as you walk, coming to a stop as you turn to look up at him. Eyes glassy and scared at what his words might do to you. Just as he opens his mouth “Hey!” Robin runs over and pulls you off by the arm so she can show you something. 

Eddie stands frozen, What just happened? he was about to apologise to you for being so weird. His feet drive him forward however and before he can think it over he’s by the mass of people, eyes zoning in on the table of drinks set up he makes a beeline for it. Pouring a shot of tequila he downs it, and then a second, before he can get ahead of himself he picks up a beer can, popping the tab he scans the crowd. His eyes find Steve not far away and quickly he's marching over “I need to talk to you” he says with a grip on the man's arm almost pulling him away from the scene. 

A few metres away from the nearest cluster of figures he stops “Dude what's up?” Steve chuckles, confused “I just saw her naked” is all Eddie can say, Steve's confusion just deepens on his face “For the first time in over like six months” he widens his eyes willing Steve to understand. “Oh, oooh how’d it go?” Steve grins. “Fucking terrible!” Eddie shouts exasperated, quickly straightening up with eyes wide turning to see if someone heard. Everyones too fixated on their own conversation as he looks over at the people around the campfire but he finds you at the drinks table with Robin and Nancy cheering you on as you seem to be taking three shots in a row. 

He turns back to Steve “How was it terrible?” Stevs confused again as he stares up at the taller man “Because Steve, she took her towel off and I just sat there” Steves face shows once again that he doesn’t understand “I just sat there, gawking at her like I’d never seen tits before, like some fuckin’ teenager” he grits. “Oh. Wait so walk me through it” he took a swig of his own can, some fruity cider. “Ok. So she was in the room, well actually, no, here” Steve frowns at Eddie's backtracking “So she was in the bathroom so I knocked on it and she stuck her head out grinning saying I needed a restraining order” Steve smirked but chose not to make a comment “And so she liked tried to close the door and I tried to open it and get in. Ah before you say anything it was just like flirty fun, nothing weird” Steve nodded “And she was all giggly, then we left the bathroom and I like picked her up and she was all giggly then too” “Ok ok” Steve nodded along “Then when we got to the room I just sat on the bed and she just like dropped the towel while she was looking for her clothes, then she turned and I think she said something I can't remember, but then she started like pulling all her clothes on, said she was going to the bathroom and ran off” he finished his recounting of the recent events with a few large gulps of his beer, almost downing half of it. 

“Sounds like you freaked her out dude. Did you like explain why you were being so weird?” Steve tipped his head back to finish the rest of his cider. “Well I was gonna but then Robin just came up and ran off with her” both of them looked over to see you now stood with Robin, Nancy, Max and El a large glass of wine in your hand. 

“Just go up and talk to her now, explain” Eddie screwed his face up at the thought of pulling you away to awkwardly explain why he just sat there “Listen, Nancy gets insecure about her body sometimes maybe she is too” Steve shrugged as they looked back to each other “She's like never ever insecure though, and I don't even think its hiding, she likes her body ya know” the rest of Eddies beer was slung down his throat. “Yeah but you might have made her insecure dude” “Ugh don't say that!” Eddie groaned, his beer was gone he needed something to fiddle with, to distract him, patting his pockets he found his packet of cigarettes, ones he usually kept out of view so the kids wouldn't see him smoking. He flicked his zippo and took a long breath once the cigarette was lit. 

“I’m serious dude, it's not just the first time you've seen her naked it's the first time she's been naked in front of you, might be kinda scary” 

“Since when do you know all about women?”

“Wel-” 

“Don't start” Eddie held his finger up to silence him. 

“Just go talk to her ok?” 

“Fine, but I’m gonna finish this up first, think you can go get me a beer? Don't really wanna look like im ignoring her” 

“Sure” Steve walked off as Eddie turned his back to the fire to crane his neck back in frustration, looking up at the sky. 

“Steve used to be like that with me” Nancy giggled in the huddle as Steve walked up to grab a beer and another cider. “I used to be like what?” he grinned as he leaned over the table “Butt out dingus” Robin stuck her tongue out “Nothing babe” Nancy hid a grin behind her solo cup as she looked away. Steve narrowed his eyes in suspicion at his wife “It's just girltalk” you smiled at him which made Steve's face break out into an expression you couldn't read. 

“Alright well” Steve spun on his heel and  power walked back to Eddie “You better talk to her now, I’m pretty sure I overheard the girls talking about it” Steve rushed as he forced the cold can into Eddie's hands. “Oh for fucks sake” he groaned as he took the beer and began walking over to the table. He saw as Robin awkwardly hushed the group as she laid eyes on him which made his nerves bubble up, yeah they were definitely talking about it. 

“Drink all that beer that fast?” Robin chuckled as Eddie neared “Mmhmn no” Eddie held his unopened can up for show as he arrived behind you “Can I talk to you?” he bend down as he dropped his voice lower, breath fanning over your ear as he spoke. “Ok” you whispered back meekly. He had no idea about girl code, and had absolutely no clue what the looks all the others were giving you meant as you set your plastic wine glass on the table and turned to walk away from them. 

You walked silently side by side as he nonverbally steered you towards the cars, the three shots and half glass of wine causing for a pleasant buzz, dampening some of the anxiety you felt “Um you want a beer?” he asked quietly as he held out the can towards you when you came to a stop by your own car “No thanks” you mumbled as Eddie seemed to cage you in at the hood of the car. You frowned surprised when he flung the can behind him to softly roll into the grass, he needed his hands free for this and he hadn't had a chance to drink it before he came over. 

“So what you wanna talk about?” you fiddled with the string of the cuffs of your worn out hoodie which was actually Eddies as you leaned back to prop yourself slightly on the hood of the car. “Um I just wanted to uh tell you I'm sorry for just like sitting there super awkward before” he looked down at you as you stared into his stomach unwilling to meet his gaze. “If I’m being honest I was just like shocked, we haven't really uh done.. that, in like a long time and it was just sudden” he saw you physically curl in on yourself which made him freak out “No no not like bad sudden, good sudden” you finally met his gaze, looking up at him confused “Fuck, I just mean like I’ve missed you and my brain just like short circuited” he tried to get you to understand. 

A breath he didnt know he had been holding finally escaped his lips as he saw a small smile tug on your lips “I dont wanna make you like uncomfortable, but when I saw you I was just like, holy fuck, she’s naked and I think this is the best thing I’ve ever seen” the grin that spread on his face was a relieved one as you snorted a laugh “Im serious, like baby” his hands came to rest on your shoulder “You are so fuckin’ sexy and just every part of you is like some greek goddess has sculpted you or something. I’m totally ok with us not being intimate, even though I do miss you I just want you to feel safe and comfortable, and for you to be happy but I really do miss you. Obviously I miss you like as a person, you're my wife, and the mother of my children and I love you so much, but like above that fuuuuuck I miss being with you” he groaned as he thought about how long it had been. 

Something swelled within you at his words, you wanted to laugh at his phrasing of being sculpted by a greek goddess but the meaning behind the words were just too flustering and sincere. And following up with that stupid wording he knew made you weak in the knees, mother of my children, yeah you liked that. You were the mother of his children, his wife. 

“I’m sorry” you whispered as Eddies hands travelled down to rub up and down your arms “It’s just been a lot recently, in my head and work and all and I pushed you away I’m sorry” Eddie manoeuvred his knee to push yours apart so he could stand between them and be closer to you “Don’t say sorry, you have nothing to be sorry for. We’ve both just been shit at telling each other things” as he towered over you you craned your neck back to see him properly, a grin spread across your face as you said in a whiny voice “Communication is key”. 

Eddie laughed and brought his arms to wrap around your shoulders, pressing your face into his chest as he hugged you, kissing the top of your head as your own arms wrapped around his waist. You both lingered for a while as you hugged each other tight until Eddies arms loosed and he pulled back to look down at you again “While I do want to know what's been going through your pretty little head lately, why don't we go enjoy the fire and talk more when we get back?” you nodded with a smile. Eddie turned to walk back with you but spun around as you called his name. “One more thing” “Mm?” you grasped onto the fabric of his sweatshirt and pulled him down towards you. 

Lips meeting his in a desperate hungry kiss you wrapped your arms around Eddie's neck as his hands went to your hips, holding you softly to keep himself upright. He thought you were just going in for a long kiss when you broke off but soon enough your lips were back on him again as your fingers snaked through his locks. Another kiss and a tug at his hair had him groaning into your mouth as his hands squeezed tighter at your hips. A few more kisses and he felt your tongue poke softly at his lips telling him to open them. He pulled you flush against him as tongues swiped at each other, his hands moving from your hips past your back to grab angrily at you ass, pulling you up to stand and pushing your hips against his, forcing his hard cock against your mound, groaning at the contact and pressing even harder against you. 

You pulled away from his lips and quickly out of his grasp “Ok now I’m happy” you laced your fingers with his as he stood dumbstruck, you began walking pulling him along with you “What??” his voice was slightly loud as he stumbled along after you “What? I said one more thing, that was my thing” you turned to grin at him wickedly “Oh you little-” he let go of you to run after you and lift you up off your feet as you squealed. The second he let you down you ran off with Eddie hot on your tail, tackling you almost immediately and turning you in his hold to face him so he could attack your hips with wiggling fingers, laughing as you shrieked from the tickling. 

He ceased his attack on your sides as you stepped closer to the group, wrapping his arms around you once again and stepping up behind you to join the group around the drinks table. Steve gave him a knowing smirk as you bent over still attached to Eddie to retrieve a beer for him from the cooler on the ground and your wine, you giggled as he shoved the hand hold the ice cool beer under your hoodie to press against your warm stomach, fighting to move his hands away from you. “OOH smores! Come on!” Robin beckoned the group to sit in the half circle of logs around the fire, all squeezing together to fit as Robin planted herself on the ground to fish marshmallows out of ita bag. 

“May I interest you in a shot of everclear mi ladies?” Gareth grinned as he stumbled over to you, Eddie, Nancy and Steve on one of the longs “Nah nah” Eddie waved the hand not wrapped around you in dismissal, “We got kids you dummy, gotta get up in the morning” Steve rolled his eyes at him. “More for me!” Gareth swiped all four each one after the other “I am NOT on duty to take care of this one!” Eddie held a hand up in the air as Gareth finished his last one. “Whaaaat? You don't wanna be my daddy?!” Gareth whined as he toppled over onto Eddie, Eddie’s hand coming to push him off, pressing hard against his stomach while everyone else laughed. 

“Go sit down you drunk” Eddie motioned for Gareth to sit down next to Steve. “Oh hey Rob’s can you get me a vodka coke?” You smiled as the woman in question pushed herself off the ground, she gave you a thumbs up as Eddie leaned in “Vodka? How much have you drank already?” His breath fanned once again against you ear as he spoke to you in a low murmur “Eh its fine, I’m not planning on getting drunk” you waved him off “Mhm” Eddie hummed sarcastically as you grinned up at him. 

“Jesus Robin how much did you put in here” your face scrunched up as you took a sip, you didn't particularly mind the taste of alcohol but you hadn't expected it to taste so incredibly strong “Like 80% vodka 20% coke” she grinned a dopey mischievous grin as she found her seat again “Chug it ya wont taste it” her grin widened even more “Come on chug chug chug!” she clapped her hands together as a few of the girls chimed in “You don't have to” Eddie searched your face with serious eyes “No no it's fine” your grin matched Robins as you looked up at him before swallowing the whole of the contents in the red solo cup. You cheered along excitedly as you crushed it and threw it down onto the ground. 

Eddie felt you sway slightly as you sat up straight, well it seemed like the getting tipsy had gone a little too well, no doubt by the end of the evening you would be hammered and pass out again on the bed. It's fine he told himself, we’ll just do something.. another day.  “Yo lets go get the chairs it's getting kinda cramped over here” Dustin walked over with Lucas and Mike on his tail “Oh sure. You gonna be ok?” he bent down to ask you as you stared up at the sky in a daze. “Huh? Oh yeah yeah” yup you were definitely drunk as you tried to focus your eyes on his face, he had a slight suspicion Robin hadnt put one single brand of vodka in your cup before handing it to you. “Nance could you..” he trailed off as he motioned to you, asking her to keep an eye on you, she nodded happily as he stood up, hands hovering around you to make sure you didn't fall over. 

When he saw you could sit by yourself he grabbed into his sweatshirt by the collar and pulled it over his head, the fire was getting too warm for him, dropping it down next to you to occupy his place he got up and followed the others down to the edge of the beach.

“Oh!” you squealed as you planted a hand on his hoodie to feel the square cardboard box, digging through his pocket in mass concentration you managed to free the cigarettes and flipped open the top to see his zippo and a few cigarettes. Pulling the zippo and a cigarette out you turned to face Nancy, Tracy and Simone again as you lit the cigarette. Happily taking the next red solocup handed your way by Tracy. Taking a long breath and giggling as the nicotine swam up to your head, mind feeling floaty as you swayed from side to side, even more so as you sipped what seemed to be more vodka coke, this time not as strong. 

“Aw man who let you-” Eddie cut himself off as returned a few minutes later, plucking the zippo and carton out of your hands after placing a chair down in the half circle of logs. You cackled as you watched him shove the packet out of view, this time into his jeans “Baby you know how you get when you smoke drunk” he grabbed into your free hand helping you stand up as you sucked down your second cigarette, almost empty solo cup left behind on the log. He led you back to the chairs to see one empty chair left “Really dude?” Gareth grinned as he spread out into the chair next to the empty one, revelling in Eddie's annoyance “Fine” Eddie breathed “Wait here” he told you as he turned to get his sweatshirt. 

Gareth mumbled something to you as you swayed, trying not to fall over “What?” you almost shouted as you leaned forward, placing your hands on the armrest of Gareth's chair and dropping your head down to hear him. He said something again but your mind was too  fuzzy to understand as you brought the cigarette back up to your lips. “Gareth stop flirting with my wife” you heard Eddie grit behind you as his hands slithered around your hips to bring you down with him as he sat down in the chair. “Whoo!” you squealed as you fell into Eddie's lap, flinging your hands into the air as if you were on an amusement park ride. 

When you’d brought them back down you took another drag of the cigarette, closing your eyes as you exhaled, falling backwards onto Eddie's shoulder as your head began to spin back and back with the kick. 

Eddie chuckled as he plucked the tobacco from your fingers and began talking to Will and Winter, he knew this was going to happen, everytime you drank and smoked your head began to spin, same with weed and smoking, if he wasn't careful enough you would fall flat on your ass with the dizziness. Suddenly you shot up, leaning forward “Oh Ophi loves that magazine!” you must have picked up on Winter talking about some fashion magazine Eddie hadn't heard of before. Soon you were in a deep conversation about the fashion industry and how hiphop had had an effect on it but within seconds Eddie zoned out. 

You kept swaying back and forth, body vibrating with laughter as you flung yourself from side to side varying between leaning over to listen intently as catching up with your brain to form words. You were clearly quite out of it, wrapped up in your conversation and thinking nothing of it but Eddie did. The first few times you moved he didn't pay it any mind, but soon you were almost squirming above him, no longer just swaying but moving your ass, soon enough you were situated right on his crotch. 

Eddie tried to pay attention to what Will was telling him, he really did but you just kept moving around, pressing even harder against him as you relaxed and dropped your weight down. The friction was just too much. Can she feel this? Does she even know she's moving so much? No she can’t feel I’m hard she’s too drunk. Fuck please don’t realize, shit. He wrapped his arms tighter around you, subtly trying to press you up against him more. What are you doing there’s people around! Fuuuuuck, you moved a little just as he pulled you flush to his chest and now he was situated right between your cheeks, pressure coming from all sides. He snapped his head when he heard you hum, could you actually feel him? Were you doing this on purpose? 

Suddenly you turned your head and before he even had a chance to think about it your lips were on his in a hard kiss. As you broke apart he pulled away to frantically look around, Will and Winter were no longer next to you, he noticed them at the drinks table, now talking to Suzie, everyone else were in conversation all in their own worlds, drinking or making smores. Gareth had passed out next to him, Steve listened with a grin as Nancy talked excitedly, Jonathan and Charlotte were whispering to each other, matching smiles as their noses pressed to each others. 

He found your eyes again, looking down at him with a drunken smile, eyes darting down to his lips with your pupils blown wide as glossed over, he gulped. That was a sight he hadn't seen in a long time, the want, need, in your eyes as you looked at him. You leant down again, capturing him in a sloppy kiss, he groaned into your mouth as you wriggled in his lap, turning to face him better. Hands coming up to wrap your arms around his shoulder as you sat twisted to face him. Lips smacking against each other desperately, hands planting firmly on your hips and squeezing, trying to twist you, and pull your chest to his. 

Finally you broke apart with a heavy breath, Eddie's closed eyes opened slowly to admire your face with a smile. Before he had the chance though, you were sliding off him and getting to your feet with a grin, Eddie groaned and toppled over, hands coming to his crotch as his forehead almost nudged his knee. It had been a natural reaction, to cover his boner, now that he had he realised hiding it just made his problem all the more noticeable. He gave Steve the finger as he cackled at him just as you skipped off saying something about getting a drink. 

Clearing his throat he had no other option but to follow his drunken wife, he reached for his sweatshirt that had been hung on the armrest and pulled it over him, making an effort to pull it down low in the front. Reluctantly he pulled himself out of the chair, his slow steps turning into large strides as he saw what you were doing. Within a second he was next to you pulling the bottle of everclear out of your hands “Hey!” you whined as you set your solo cup down. “Babe this is 95% alcohol, and I am not having you throw up all over me tonight” he set the bottle down and gathered you in a hug.

“Mean, you dont wanna take care of me? I see how it is” you joked as you made a show of untangling yourself from him, only making Eddie hold onto you tighter. “Of course I wanna take care of you” I’ll show you how fucking good I can take care of you “But I’d rather have you not throw up if I can” you made a mocking whine which caused a chuckle bubble up from Eddies chest. 

“Let's get you some juice or something yeah?” he grinned down at you as you nodded “Jesus christ all these drinks and not a single thing alcohol free” he frowned as he inspected the table, all the mixers now gone. “There's some cartons inside” Dustin chipped in “Thanks dude”.

So Eddie was turning you in his arms to hold at your hips as he led you steadily up to the house, laughing as you stumbled and almost tripped over your own feet, slowly he led you up the steps and through the door. “Okay” he breathed as he walked you to the kitchen island, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up to sit on the wood “Oh my god!” you squealed as he lifted you “I forgot you could do that! Do it again!” you squealed. Eddie shushed you quietly “I will if you keep your voice down a little, the kids are asleep downstairs” he pecked your lips as he turned to open the fridge “Oh riiiight” you leaned towards his back with an exaggerated whisper. 

Just as Eddie turned he saw you about to fall over the edge, shooting a hand out to catch your arm, placing the juice on the table and coming around to hold onto both your arms and coax you upright. “Ok my little fall risk whose like a newborn baby that can't support its head” you snorted loudly as Eddie grabbed the juicebox next to you and poked the straw through the seal. Legs pressing up against the table to stand between your thighs, keeping you sitting up “Here, drink this” he held out the juicebox to you, which you took and drank all within one breath, slurping noises within the carton as you finished it. 

Wiping your mouth you looked back up to him with a wide grin, collapsing into his chest and mushing your cheek to the green fabric. Eddie chuckled as his hands came to circle your back “I think it's time for you to go to bed yeah?” he whispered as you pushed yourself closer to him humming in agreement “But you have to carry me” Eddie laughed. He hadn’t carried you for a while, but he’d like to think he was still strong enough, lean muscles hidden under all his clothes from hard work at the auto shop. The only thing was that you were very drunk and he was afraid he’d drop you. “Ok” he whispered, marvelling in your giggle as he bent his knees and wrapped his arms around your thighs, throwing you over his shoulder. 

“What? You told me to carry you” he drummed on your ass as he began walking past the dining table earning a drunken laugh from you. 

Somehow he managed to make it up the stairs and down the hall, throwing you playfully onto the bed, just as he was about to pull away from you to stand up two hands fisted at his sweatshirt, pulling him onto the bed sloppily as your lips connected to his. As you continued kissing him he moved, never disconnecting his lips from yours as he lay himself between your thighs. 

His brain stopped as he heard your soft moan against him as he pushed himself flush against your clothed cunt. He needed to hear that sound again. He thrusted his hips hard against yours to hear your moan again this time slightly louder, quick to muffle it by kissing you harder. One of his hands on your hips travelled quickly under your hoodie to first at your breast over your bra. FUUUUUCKKK he hadn’t gotten to feel your tits in so long and now that he did it felt like fucking heaven. 

Grabbing onto you desperately as he set a pace of thrusting his hard cock against you, sloppily swiping his tongue against yours. Soft groans and moans from both of you muffled by each other as you made out. Eddie couldn't begin to explain how good this felt, kissing you, touching you, it was too much for him. His pace quickened against you as you pulled at his hair, other hand pulling at the hem of his sweatshirt. Getting the hint he sat up on his calves to rip his shirts off, cock throbbing with eagerness as your hands travelled lightly over his happy trail, past his stomach and up his chest, hand grabbing at his neck pulling him back to you. 

His lips connected to yours again as he cupped your face and let your hand trail up his side and grip at his shoulder. He pulled away to breathe, staring down at your face, eyes blown wide and filled with lust, kiss bitten lips, hips squirming for friction against him. You were drunk, he knew he shouldn't be doing this when you were drunk but he couldn't help himself, he hadn't felt you in ages and now that he’d gotten a taste he couldn't stop himself. 

Sitting up again he pulled at your hoodie, urging you to sit up so he could pull it off you, nimble fingers eagerly unclipping your bra before pushing you back against the bed. Breath cut short as his nose pushed against your cheek and his lips connected to yours. His hips gave a particularly hard thrust as his hand went back to squeezing at your now naked breast, barbell piercing pinched between his fingers as his other hand propped him up, causing you to moan against him as the zipper of his jeans caught against your clit, igniting a fire within your core you hadn't felt for a while. 

Your moan egged him on to thrust even harder as his lips relentlessly kissed yours. He heard a knock at the door but chose to ignore it, he had you here, in your bed for the week, topless, kissing him, moaning for him, wanting him, there was nothing he would do to stop this moment. The knock came again and he pulled away yelling an angry “WHAT?!” into the room. Aggravated and annoyed that there was something outside of this room, the world that had stopped around him, that needed him more than you did right now, more than he needed you. 

It showed on his face, the annoyance which dropped immediately as well as his heart as he heard the low scared whisper “Daddy?” his forehead dropped to yours as he closed his eyes, breathing out a sigh “Yeah?” he called without moving from his comfortable position against you. “Um.. I peed” the voice whispered shamefully, Roxette on the other side of the door, no doubt clutching her teddy bear close to her as she called for her dad. 

Eddie sighed against you as you let out a low giggle, the whole situation was kind of funny. Eddie straining against his jeans and boxers, frustrated and only thinking of you naked below him and his daughter interrupting to tell him she peed herself. 

“Coming!” he moved slightly above you, staring down in to your eyes as he whispered “Don't go anywhere I’ll be right back” a hard kiss to your lips as he scrambled off you, making no effort to cover his bare chest as he walked to the door, opening it and slipping out you heard Roxy on the other side of the door ask curiously “Where’s mom?” “Uh she’s sleeping”. Boner gone, and everything else that surrounded you, gone for the moment as he took his daughter into the bathroom, placing her in the shower as he ran to retrieve a fresh change of clothes and bedding in your room, groaning as he saw you now on the bed in only a pair of panties. Rushing as fast as he could to change the sheets, his daughter and then soak them all off and hang them up outside to dry. 

The five minutes he thought it would take stretched to a near half hour as he was caught up having to explain to multiple people why he was hanging bedding up and then staying with Roxette as she begged him to stay till she drifted off. 

Finally he made it back to your room, taking a heavy breath in preparation before opening the door, heart dropping as he found you naked atop the covers, on your side, and fast asleep. 

He loved his daughters but could they be more of a cockblock?! He went through the same motions as yesterday, tucking you in and shuffling in next to you to wrap his arms around you. He had to remind himself that there were five days left of this trip, plenty of opportunities to get you alone.

You woke up confused, head throbbing and.. naked? Why were you naked? You frowned as you tried to remember last night: Getting dressed and feeling insecure, shots, talking to Eddie about it, more drinking, something in the kitchen and oh right you and Eddie made out shirtless but you couldn't remember anything else. “Hey Eddie” you nudged the man behind you who groaned “Eds” your shook him slightly “What?” he grumbled behind you “Did we have sex last night?” you turned in his arms to face him as he opened his eyes “We were about to but Roxette peed herself” he murmured, there was a hint of annoyance and frustration in his voice as he recounted last nights events before nuzzling into your shoulder and pulling you tighter against him. “Oh” you breathed as you hand found his back, “Total cockblock” he mumbled against your skin drawing a snort from your throat.

So you were about to have sex with Eddie last night, for the first time in over six months. You found as you thought about it that you weren’t totally against that idea, it felt strange thinking about it, for so long you’d set up walls to block him out and now you felt like you didn't want them there anymore. They were in your way. 

A knock at the door pulled you out of your thoughts “Just a minute baby!” you called as you scrambled to get away from Eddie, turning to look down at the floor, Eddie's Metallica t-shirt that lay inside his sweatshirt was the closest, you hastily pulled it to you, throwing it over your head as you sat up against the headboard. “Yeah come in!” you called to the door as you felt Eddie's hand fall limp on your thigh. 

Ophelia and Roxette shuffled through the door, Ophelia going straight for her clothes and Roxette climbed onto the bed, laying her head in your lap and onto Eddie's hand. “Dad moooove” she shoved at his hand as he grunted in his sleep, flicking his hand in an attempt to move her head away “Daaad” she whined as she pushed at his hand, his hand slid down to hold your knee instead. 

“I heard you had a little accident, you ok baby?” you stroked her hair as she settled back in your lap “Mm peed myself” she pouted “But no one saw so I think its ok” she told you. “And your dad cleaned you up you ungrateful” Eddie mumbled the rest of his sentence into the pillow as he rolled onto his stomach. “Oh, yeah dad helped” 

Soon enough everyone was dressed and downstairs, “So!” Dustin clapped his hands together, gaining the attention of the room “Today is waterpark day!” he referred to the plan he had already set in place. Kids excitedly shovelling food into their mouths after the walkthrough of the day before running to their parents rooms to get dressed and ready. 

Roxy was very excited about her new swimsuit, a blue flowery two piece with a blouse resembling top, but huffed when Eddie told her to come over so he could put sunscreen on her before they went out because she’d want to jump in the water as soon as they got to the waterpark. 

Bags were packed, cars were started and everyone changed as 10 cars and two minivans rolled out onto the road. Setting up camp in a cluster of beach chairs under parasols plans were made. All the kids were very excited, making it quite difficult to get them all gathered and keep them from running off. “Mom I don’t wanna wear the floaters!” Roxette whined as you blew the arm puffs up for her. “Baby you have to” popping the cap closed you started with the other “But Ophelia doesn’t have hers!” She stomped on the ground “Yeah but Ophelia's older she knows how to swim” you explained as you coaxed her over to stand between you knees “I can swim too! No! I don’t wanna!” She ripped her arm away from you as you held it “Baby look a bunch of the other ones are wearing them” you pointed over at the other parents putting arm puffs on their own kids, Eddie stood nearby lathering sunscreen on your eldest. “Fine!” She whined as she let you pull one up her forearm “Be good and you’ll get an ice cream later” you grinned as her face broke out into a toothy smile “Ok!” She happily accepted her fate and let you put the other arm puff on her. 

Argyle and Eden excitedly signed up for chaperoning the kids as well as Robin and a cautious Vickie, Lukas, Mike, Dustin and Suzie joining in as they set off with the kids for a waterslide, Steve and Eddie telling them they would catch up with them. 

You, Nancy, Simone, Tracy, her daughter Ariana, El, Max and Charlotte all huddled together on the beach chairs, lounging as you looked over the waterpark. Will and Winter walked off to get some fancy waterpark drinks that caught their eye as Eddie, Steve, Luke, Gareth and Jeff looked over the map of the waterpark. 

“Oh what a beautiful day!” Nancy smiled brightly as she sat down with baby Dustin in her lap, Simone undid her beach wrap and sat down in a cheeky black bathing suit with straps lining up to her hips, halter top neckline with an open back. “Oh it is hot!” she commented as a few of the other girls cheered at her. “We really doing bathing suits?” Charlotte asked cautiously “Oh come on girls we don't know these people who cares?” Simone smiled brightly as she took her sunglasses off and dropped them onto her wrap on the ground, “Yeah you're right who cares? I've been working on this six pack all spring!” Charlotte pulled her cover up off, thrusting her pregnant belly for show under her punch pink pregnancy dress bathing suit “Yeah baby got front!” she laughed as the girls cheered her on, “Come on Y/N its your turn to strip!” she grinned as she sat back down “Oh no I don't know” you shyed away. 

The swimsuit you were wearing today was not one you were extremely comfortable in, it had been a gift from your friend and you brought it with you just in case, but your bikini had been haphazardly shoved into a ball in your room out of sight and out of mind and therefore not washed deeming it unwearable as it began to smell. This one was a blood red one piece instead, the hem was high on your hips and practically a thong at the back, low cut in the back and round cups pushing your tits together above an upside down triangle showcasing some skin and the undersides of your boobs. “Oh come on! Like Simone said no one cares!” Nancy grinned as she clapped, the others joining in and clapping along. “Oh ok!” they cheered as you stood up and made a show of dropping your towel and filing it onto your chair, even going as far as a little spin. 

Not far away Gareth whistled, causing the group of guys bent over the map to look up, Eddie with his back to you asked “What?” following Gareth's eyes, turning around to see you throwing your towel away and spinning around. He swallowed. Have I seen that before? I don't think so, is it new? his eyes scanned your body, cheeky thong tucked between your ass cheeks, tits pushed together round. “You sure you still set on this marriage thing? Cuz if not I’ll happily take her off your hands. Get her on her knees for me.” Eddie turned back around to see Gareth grinning. 

“Alright that's enough” Eddie lunged “No!” Gareth screeched as he ducked and took off towards you all, scuttling between plastic lounge chairs to stand behind yours which you now occupied. Eddie stopped by your feet as Gareth hopped from side to side “What’s going on?” you asked confused, other girls chiming in as Eddie matched Gareth's movements “If you say one more word I will personally see to it that you're six feet under by the end of the day” Eddie gritted through his teeth. “Eddie!” you shouted, shocked at his words. 

Gareth suddenly became bold “Nah you're too much of a softy” he grinned as he stilled and leaned over the back of your chair, making a show of peeping down you to look at your tits “HEY! Stop looking at my wife!” he shouted, making you turn in confusion to look up at Gareth who quickly disappeared out of view as he ran again. Eddie followed him shouting “You wanna see how much of a softy I am?!” and just like that both of them were out of sight. 

You turned back to the rest “What was that?” they all shrugged telling you how they had no clue, you sighed and stood up walking over to Steve. “Can you tell me what's going on?” you crossed your arms, sweet Steve looking you directly into the eye as he awkwardly murmured “Uh Gareth said some things that upset Eddie so” he shrugged “What did he say?” you frowned “Uh you don't wanna know” Steve brought a hand up to rub at his stubble. Rolling your eyes you walked off in search of Eddie, who was now running through a children's pool. 

“Eddie!” you shouted sternly causing him to stop in his tracks and turn to you “Come here” you stated frustrated. Eddie turned to Gareth who also stood frozen, back to you, to Gareth and finally back to you. He sighed and trudged towards you. 

“What the hell is going on?” you crossed your arms again, watching as Gareth faking nonchalance walked off behind him. “Gareth uh was just annoying me” he brought a hand up to scratch at the back of his neck “So you chase him?” you inquired “Well yeah” Eddie turned to give Gareth an angry glare as he neared the group again. He set his gaze back onto you, your facial expression telling him that that wasn't an answer and urging him to explain “Ugh, he, he just kept saying some things, and I told him to stop and he still didn't” he set his hands onto your hips as he looked down on you. 

“What stuff?” you asked exasperated, Eddie opened his mouth “And don’t tell me I don’t want to know” you held a finger up to him, his mouth closed again, you could see his brain working to think of something to say “Just, well some things about your body” your face softened into scared hurt, Eddie understood instantly that you though Gareth had been making fun of you, your size, but he didnt know how to explain “Fuck sake, he kept saying how he was gonna” he closed his eyes annoyed “Fuck you and shit” he breathed. 

The snort that left your throat caused him to open them again “Baby, just because he says that doesn't mean it's gonna happen” you placed a soft hand on his cheek. Immediately his mind brought up Greg, stupid fucking Greg who had him doubting himself. -doesn’t mean it's gonna happen, doesn’t mean it's gonna happen, doesn’t mean it's gonna happen. He softened against your touch, nothing was going to happen, not with Greg, not with Gareth, not with anybody. “I know” he sighed, more of an admittance to himself  “I just don't like him talking to you about that” he continued as he stepped closer to you, leaning further into your touch “Yeah well he's a pig, but it's just harmless stupid jokes baby” you leant up on your toes to give him a kiss. 

“I’m only for you remember” you held your hand up to him, wiggling your fingers up to show off your engagement ring and wedding band.

Eddie hummed, why was he ever worried? You were his, you were married to him, had his babies, you’d been with him since you were 16 and him 17 for god's sake. Maybe it was the time spent together that had him worrying you had gotten bored of him, but no, it was the time together that only made the two of you stronger. You’d always been attached at the hip, stuck to each other like glue since his first senior year. Yeah you had your rough patches but you always found your way back to each other in the end.

Taking your hand and placing a kiss to the back of it before kissing your lips. “Now come on, you can buy me a gelato cuz it's too damn hot out here” you grinned as you took his hand. “Mm know something that's hotter” he snapped the elastic at your hip against your skin as he captured your lips in a kiss again.

Rejoining the group you stood with Eddie behind you, whose hands wrapped around your waist as his chin dropped to your shoulder. “Gareth, you're disgusting” you sneered “Anybody want ice cream?” you grinned to the rest, Eddie snorted behind you as the rest laughed. Soon enough you were back in your lounge chair leaning onto Eddie's chest as you sat between his thighs, happily eating your gelato while talking to Tracy, Ariana and Max. 

You had so much fun going on slides with Eddie and the kids, throwing Roxette around in the water, your two girls fighting to get the other off each parents shoulders, slurping on ice cream, chatting with everyone and it wasn't as hard as you'd all though getting each kid into their respective car and away from the fun, all exhausted from the day and ready to go home.  Dinner had been munching on whatever snacks there were around the house as kids were put to bed by nightfall.

“Damn forgot to brush my teeth” Eddie sighed as he walked into the bedroom with a towel low on his hips, tattoos on display under the same gold light Eddie had seen you in. “Ok well I’m dying for a shower so you're gonna have to do that while I’m in there” you told him as you brushed past him in a throw over beach dress, bathing suit still on. You didn't see Eddie grin behind your back as you clutched your toiletry bag on your way down the hall, quickly snapping up his things before following you.

“Oh I don't mind” he breathed as he caught up to you, you turned, rolling your eyes at him playfully as you pushed open the door, locking it after letting Eddie through, “Think I can join you?” he grinned down at you as the hand not clutching his toothbrush and toothpaste came to rest on your hip “Pretty sure you just showered baby” you smiled as you pulled away from him, pulling your dress over your head as Eddie flung his things into the sink. “Mm can’t be too clean sweetheart” he smirked as he crowded you from behind. “I’ll let you join me if you just think about this first” you turned around “You really wanna have sex for the first time in a shower in a home that's not even ours?” you began pulling the straps of your bathing suit down. 

Eddie looked off into the distance thinking it over “No you're right” he sighed “Wait wait wait, you're saying we're gonna have sex?” His eyes found you eagerly as you stripped of your bathing suit and stepped into the shower, looking back with a cheeky smirk. Eddie groaned and fell back against the sink as you turned the water off. Fuck… YES! It was happening! It was really fucking happening! 

You pulled the shower curtain closed, putting you out of view as Eddie turned and began brushing his teeth. He sat down on the toilet lid waiting for you to finish and it felt like the time droned on forever, even though it was just 10 minutes. His head perked up excitedly as you stepped out, reaching for your folded towel on the counter and wrapping yourself up in it. “Ugh fuck you’re so sexy” Eddie breathed against your ear as he wrapped around you from behind, you giggled as you picked up your stuff and unlocked the door. Walking slowly down the hall Eddie pressed his painfully hard cock against you, the evidence of the daydreaming he had been doing while you were in the shower. 

“Can't wait to get my hands on you” he whispered as you made your way down the hall. Eddie wasted absolutely no time as you got to your room, pulling the towel off you and letting it drop to the floor. Eyes roaming the various ink splatters littered over your body, shining oh so beautifully in the dim light of the room, soaking in every inch of your undeniably perfect body. “Funny I’m usually the loud one but I have a sneaking suspicion you might beat me to it this time” you grinned as you let his towel fall to the floor. “Oh do you now?” his hands went down to grab a handful of your ass “Mhm you're gonna have to be quiet” you whispered as he captured your lips in a kiss.

Blindly he led you backwards till the backs of your knees hit the mattress, falling onto it, instinctively spreading your legs to make room for Eddie. “Fuck” he made an audible groan as his hard cock came in contact with you slick wet folds, pressing into you. “Ugh fuck I’m not gonna last long baby” he breathed as he broke apart from you “Would be surprised if you did” you panted as Eddies lips began kissing down your jaw and throat, lingering on occasion to suck harsh bruises into your skin, more than on occasion, he seemed to be doing it with every kiss.

You let out a breathless moan as his lips wrapped around your pebbled nipple, sucking lightly as his hand came up to give similar attention to the other. Two metal balls cold on his muscle as he licked at your pierced nips. He didn’t hover there long though, he continued his descent kissing down your body till he slid to his knees on the floor, hands wrapping strong around your hips to pull you to the edge as he kissed your things. 

“Ughhhh fuck I’ve missed this” he groaned as he spread your folds “Missed sex or missed staring at my pussy?” You grinned down at him as you sat up on your elbows, he looked up at you mischievously “Both” and without warning he dove in, licking a broad strip from your hole up to your clit. Your head fell back as a moan ripped through you, you know Eddie had taken to pleasuring himself but above not doing anything with Eddie you weren’t doing anything alone, the feeling of Eddie's warm tongue rolling through you a second time was almost overwhelming. 

A third long lick before he focused on your clit, shorter even licks right in the nub had you gripping the sheets. His lips wrapped around you, sucking hard as his tongue flicked up and down, your hand came to snake between his damp curls and tug harshly causing Eddie to groan as he went faster. 

“Shit baby, we- we gotta be quiet” you forced out a strained whisper between pants as the vice grip on Eddie's roots tightened, all Eddie did was hum in response as one of the hands snaked around the backs of your thighs holding you to him lifted. The hand that had previously been gripping onto the bed sheets for purchase whipped away to hold a tight fist against your lips, biting down hard on your knuckles as you felt a long thick finger slip easily into you. 

“Mm fuck” you whined against it as he pushed a second in, pumping in and out furiously as his tongue flicked at an angry pace. Just as you were about to open your mouth to say something a harsh knock sounded at the door. Startling both you and Eddie as he pulled his mouth off you, head dropping down to rest his head on your mound “You gotta be fucking kidding me” he gritted through his teeth. 

You took a deep sigh as you slackened your grip on his hair, other hand coming down to the sheets to half push yourself up. “Hang on baby, mommy’ll be right there” you called strained to the door as Eddie knocked his head on your mound, the hair tickling his forehead, fingers still deep inside you. “Uh it’s just me, Steve” a deep voice sounded from the other side. 

“Oh” you fell back down on the bed, “Uh yeah?” you managed to even out your voice as you spoke, “No no don’t come in!” You shouted as you saw the doorknob turn, hand held out in the direction of the door as if to stop him. You sighed as it flung back into place “Uh I was just looking for Eddie” he tried keeping his voice down as he called through the door “What do you want?” Eddie hollered as he raised his head, irritation dripping from his voice “I was just gonna talk to you about uh my car, we talked about it earlier” 

“Yeah yeah I’ll take a look at it tomorrow” he set his chin pushing down onto the sparse hair on your mound again as he looked over to the door Aalright great I was just-“ “Steve I’ll be knuckle deep in your car tomorrow right know I’m knuckle deep in something else” he called, the offended gasp you let out as you scolded him “Edward!” with a light slap to the back of his head only had him grinning up at you smug. “Haha alright dude see ya tomorrow” Steve laughed on the other side as he heard the smack “Ok BYE Steve!” Eddie almost shouted. 

You both listened intently as you heard heavy footsteps lead away from the door “Eddie rea- ooooh shit” you broke off as Eddie set his lips back onto you, pumping his fingers in and out of you equally as fast if not faster than he had before, resuming his tackle on your clit as if nothing had happened. 

With each pump he worked faster and faster until his hand was working at an angry pace to get you to the edge, your hand pulled harder at his hair as you writhed beneath him turning to sink your teeth into the comforter. You whined as you felt that familiar feeling boil in your core, only egging Eddie on as he sucked harder. 

“Fuck I’m-I’m c-close” you whined as your hips inched away from him, Eddies fingers sinking into your skin in a bruising grip and forcing you back to him “Shit shit shit!” was all the warning as a spray of warm liquid hit him in the face, causing him to reel back. Watching in awe as you drenched his neck, chest and hand into a furious squirt. 

Within seconds it slowed to a stop as well as Eddie's fingers as he watched you panting heavily in front of him. Eyes bulging he watched as the hand that had previously ripped away from his hair to grip the sheets and fall slack next to you as you sunk into the mattress panting heavily. “Holy fuck” he breathed as he himself panted, getting to his feet and looming over you, hand falling out to keep him raised off you as his other held your shoulder gently, smoothing over your skin as he went to cup your cheek, capturing your lips in a desperate kiss, pausing your panting to kiss him back. 

The skin previously dried from his shower now soaking pressing against you as he fell onto you, both hands coming up to hold you in place as he pulled you to him, head lifting from the bed to meet him. The long kiss broke apart and you fell back onto the bed, breathing slowing as you gathered yourself. 

“Scootch up baby” Eddie whispered as he pushed himself off you “Hm?” You hummed as you opened your eyes, hands pushing into the patterned throw as you pushed yourself off the foot of the bed and up to land against the pillows. Eddie crawled up the bed, hand pushing softly to part your knees and make room for him. 

Finally your daze melted away as you looked up to find Eddie on his calves, hand wrapped around his throbbing cock as he stared down at you in awe, slowly pumping himself, each stroke revealing his angry red tip dribbling a hefty amount of precum. 

You chuckled breathlessly “Don’t want me to return the favour?” Eddie shook his head furiously as he toppled over to rest on top of you “Uh uh” he breathed and without warning lined himself up with you thrusting himself into the hilt. He let out a loud groan while you gasped in surprise. “Aaahahahuuuuh fuck” he complained breathlessly as the hand on his cock slithered up to grab at your hip. 

“Shiiit feel so good baby” his breath fanned against your ear as he buried his face in your shoulder, setting a slow pace of his hips, lips attaching back to your neck. The low whine of your throat only made Eddie speed his hips up “Baby, s-s’too big” Eddie laughed as you whined “Mm been a while?” he pulls his face out of the crook of your neck to grin down at you. As you roll your eyes Eddie plants both of his hands just below your armpits, leaning down to kiss you as he places one hard thrust into your hips, the head of his cock hitting that spot inside you he liked to call the danger zone for some stupid reason, actually the reason being that it either caused you incredibly pleasure, or incredible pain depending on what position you were in. This particular position was the former, and it showed as you moaned loudly against him. 

Braking off the kiss he moved a hand to plaster over your mouth as he thrusted another hard thrust, somehow managing to hit even deeper inside you, his head nuzzling back into the crook of your neck to leave bruises all along the expanse of your throat. Muffling the second loud moan as your eyes rolled to the back of your skull, mouth dropping in pure pleasure. Eddie hummed in agreement as he thrusted again “Mhm yeah thats the spot, fuck” he was now setting a slow pace of hard thrusts, each time inching deeper inside you as your hands pulled angrily at the roots of his locks. 

Your left hand moved from the grip near his neck to circle around his arm, fingers pressing harshly into the skin of his shoulder, nails digging in to leave small crescent moons into the inked slightly tanned skin. The same tattoo which had Eddie moaning in something other than pleasure as he first lay down on his back after a five hour appointment, complaining that he had to lay on his stomach till it healed. 

Now as you touched the ink Eddie only groaned as your nails scratched at his shoulder blades, hard thrust transitioning to quick smacks of his hips against yours, skin slapping against skin. That would have been the only sound apart from moans that would have been heard if it weren't for “Eddie the bed” you panted as the old wood and springs began squeaking with each of Eddie's movements. “You know how many beds I had to listen to rattling last night?” he pulled away from his attack on your reddening neck to stare down at you, panting between each word “Yeah it's our turn” he dove back in to suck hard at your collarbone. 

His hips were now at a furious pace, how he hadn't cum already he had absolutely no clue but somehow he had managed to hold off. That was until he felt your walls squeeze tightly around him, the burning in his belly he’d been ignoring became reality all too quickly. Hips working faster as he pulled off your collar to look back at you, hand still collapsed over your mouth, neck craned back into the pillow to match your eyes practically looking at the back wall. “Fuck ba- shit” he broke off in a groan as you squeezed harder around him “S-Sweetheart, n-not gonna last loOoong!” he tried to whisper but failed miserably as your ankles locked behind him pressing him further into you. 

Bed squeaking, skin slapping, throats groaning and moaning in blinding pleasure echoed all around the room as Eddie's movement stopped, bottoming out inside you in a loud groan as hot spurts of cum painted your walls. 

For minutes both of you just lay panting, a jumble of limbs as both of you tried to catch your breath. It was nice, lying tangled up with Eddie, naked and sweaty, totally counteracting your shower but it was nice, until it got too hot. You pushed Eddie off you, a reluctant grunt sounding from the back of his throat as he pulled out “Where you going?” he whispered as he felt a dip in the bed next to him while he lay eyes closed on his back. “Gonna open a window it's boiling in here” you stepped cautiously over the floorboards as you opened the old window, sighing as cool night air hit your skin. You looked back to see Eddie fucked out and spent with his eyes still closed on the bed and awkwardly picked up one of the towels discarded on the floor and whipped yourself off. 

Eddie peeked his eyes open as he saw you walk over to the duffle bags, dropping both towels on the bench “You-you getting dressed?” there was a hint of nervousness to his voice as he sat up, as if the prospect of you putting clothes on was like you closing yourself off again. “Relax I’m just putting on some underwear” you chuckled as you fished out a pair of forest green brazilians and pulled them over your legs. 

Eddie fell back against the bed again, laughing as he felt a pair of clean boxers hit his face. Pulling them on he hopped back onto the bed with a wide grin, beaming at you like a child receiving a bag of candy or their favourite toy. “What's got you so happy?” you chuckle as you nestle up to him, pushing his hands away as he was about to wrap them around you, turning to lay on your side and rest your head on his chest instead of his face buried  in your shoulder. 

“Oh you know my stock shares went up” his joke earned a laugh as he held your waist and trailed his fingers up and down your arm. The giggle you let out had his smile cracking wider and his arms holding you to him tighter. “Yup I stiiill got it” he smirked as you slapped his chest lightly. 

For once it seemed neither of you were woken by any distractions, Eddie roused slowly face mushed against your hair as he pulled back to see that during the night the both of you must have moved and he was now back to spooning you just like every other night. As the numb feeling of sleep tingled away he squeezed his fingers to find his hand cupping your breast. He chuckled as he heard the low whine from your throat, the sound jogging his memory. 

Oh fuck, hed gotten to touch you, fuck you, even made you squirt! That wasn't even something normal when you were having sex on a regular basis. Memories of being inside you, a tangle of legs, you pulling at his hair, sucking at your neck, all swam to the forefront of his mind. Leaning over he found himself stunned by the amount of deep purple and brown hickies that littered your skin, he couldn't even count them on his fingers Jesus Christ. Dark marks going all the way from just below your jaw all the way down to an inch or so away from your nipples, when did he even have time to do all that?

He was torn from his thoughts as you stirred, turning in his grasp to lay on your back, eyes slowly opening to see Eddie hovering above you, dopey grin painting his face. Your hands went up to the hem of the comforter when you frowned, lifting it up you peeked at what was hidden, frown dissipating to realisation as you whispered an “Oh right” which had Eddie snorting and dropping his forehead on to yours. 

“Mm morning handsome” you hummed as his lips pulled away from a deep passionate kiss “Morning beautiful” he croaked, head pulling back in shock “Beautiful” he croaked again, voice strained, he cleared his throat “Beautiful, there we go” he laughed as you giggled, those sweet noises once again having his heart doing flips in his chest. 

“So beach day again or you wanna do something else? Dustin mentioned a hike” Eddie rolled off you to lie on his back as you propped yourself up on an elbow next to you “Hmm well I am torn, can either watch you hopp around in that sad little excuse for a bathing suit you wore yesterday or stare at you ass in those bike shorts, it really is a tough decision” he grinned down at you, snorting you told him “Well my regular bikini is all dry now so don't worry you don't have to watch me hopp around in that other one” Eddie shrugged “Probably for the best, not easy hiding a boner in swim trunks, trust me” he widened his eyes. 

Ophelia and Roxette strolled in not much later to find Eddie getting dressed as you had wandered off to the bathroom. 

“Why are you wearing a hoodie? It's like 90° outside” Lucas threw his hands out as he plopped down next to you on the couch, everyone eating an assortment of fruit, cereal and toast. Eddie snorted from the other side of the table which had both of you turning towards him, Lucas with a confused frown and you with a warning glare “I’m just cold” you explained weakly “How on earth are you cold?” Mike sat down on the arm of the chair El was occupying. “Uh I just am?” “Oh come on, just take it off” Mike shrugged. 

“I-I’d rather not” you tried taking a bite of your toast to signal the end of the conversation, “Yeah she's gotta hide those massive hickies” Gareth sauntered over to hang of the back of Eddie's armchair taking an animalistic bit of a baconstrip “Not doing a good job by the way” you pulled the hood up further around your neck as the people around the living room area all turned to you. “Whats a hickey?” Jonathan's son Charlie piped up “Oh it's like a-” “Gareth” you turned to him to glare at him too who held his hands up in defeat “It's just a bruise sweetie, like when you fall and hurt yourself” Charlotte waddled over to pat her son on the head, everyone on the couch scooching up to make room for the pregnant lady. 

“Eh no one cares babes just take your hoodie off, you must be boiling” Charlotte smiled happily as she waved you off next to you, sighing you set your plate down and pulled the hoodie over your head, “Jesus christ!” the room erupted in laughter as near 20 hickeys in a steady flow down to the hem of your tanktop was revealed. You forced a straight tight lipped smile and gestured your hands out. Gareth slapped Eddie on his shoulder as he laughed “Didn’t know you had it in ya big guy” chuckling he stood up straight behind him “Mm thanks” Eddie grumbled as he finished the rest of his cereal. 

“Seriously what did you guys do yesterday?” Mike laughed, “Didn't you hear them?” Gareth imitated a high pitched version of a bed squeaking as you curled in on yourself. Roxette hurried over and climbed into you lap as she laughed “What is uncle Gareth doing?” the supposed uncle in question was in the midst of thrusting his hips back and forth, thankfully not making any lude imitations of moans “He's just being silly” you explained as you wrapped your arms around her. “Oh god” you sighed amused as Charlie and Lucas's son Billy copied Gareth's movements “Would you please refrain from teaching my kid that stuff? He’s four” Charlotte complained as she grabbed her son by the arm and yanked him to her “Yeah dude stop, no one wants to see that shit” Lucas chimed in. 

Soon enough almost everyone was outside gathered by the beach, save from Charlotte who went inside to rest, Jonathan following her and trusting Dustin to keep an eye on his kids. Blankets and towels were spread out in the sand and grass as the same group from the first day lounged on the chairs now back in their place from bonfire night. Kids splashed in the water as well as adults, some lying tanning in the sun or forcing sunscreen onto stroppy children. 

Roxette and Ophelia ran up jumping excitedly as you pulled your shorts down to tan, begging you to come jump off the jetty with them. After some faux complaining and getting a rise out of Roxy you agreed, laughing as they ran off in front of you. Walking past Eddie caught his attention immediately, the rim of the beer bottle he was holding falling away from his lips as it seemed that the world stopped around him and watching you move in slow motion. Teeth showing in a happy laugh, fingers wrapped around the hem on each side of your bikini bottoms, securing them to your hips, thick thighs rubbing against each other with each step, tits in a soft bounce from your movements. Faded ink tattoos mixed with fresher ones glittering in the sunlight as it sat high up in the sky. The quick one second of a flash of a smile towards him was the equivalent of an hour as you turned and continued walking. 

The laughter and chatter died around him as if he was submerged under water simply listening to the sounds of the ocean. In the back of his mind he thought he may have cooled down with his rapid heart beat and tensing in his thighs whenever he was around you in anything close to the line of modesty after you’d finally had sex, but no. If anything his heart was beating even faster than it had before in his life, not even the muffling of his chest could hide the beats from sounding out around him, much less hide the feeling of his swim shorts tightening around him. 

Sitting up straight from his wide legged slackened position he stared in awe at the plush thickness of your thighs, to your concealed mound up to the soft rolls of your tummy, slight jiggle of the fat around your arms and bounce of your tits, and Oh. My. God. As he zoned in on the particular area which consumed his mind most of the time he saw those faint outlines of hearts, pressing against the lavender fabric, had it not been for the sun beating down on you he most definitely would have seen the shape of your hardened nipples framed so perfectly by those little diamond encrusted silver hearts. 

Since this morning you had switched your nipple piercings, at some point, without his knowledge, and he knew you knew those little hearts were his absolute favourite of all the body modifications you had. She’s put those on for me. The hearts disappeared out of his view as you veered off to the small wooden dock, the globes of your ass swaying from side to side with every step you took, following your girls down as they desperately jumped up and down in waiting for you. 

Just as quick as the moment came, it was gone, as he watched you disappear under the surface of the water, cannonballing in with a large splash, Roxette eagerly on your tail, copying you and cannonballing in only a few inches away from your face. You laughed as you splashed her back, clapping as Ophelia too resurfaced. 

“Yo you listening to me?” Gareth slapped Eddie's arm in an attempt to regain his attention, not having noticed you walking by, he turned away from the small dots of your heads floating in the distance. “Hm? Oh right Zander yeah what about him?” Gareth repeated his comment about how their boss at the auto shop had slipped up with a recent purchase that was vital in the repair of a snazzy Rolls Royce he had been working on. 

Eddie's attention drifted way off from the conversation again as he saw you swim up to the ladder and pull yourself up. Water dripping off your body as you shoved your hair out of your face. Time slowed again as you dipped your fingers into the hem of your bottoms, pulling at the fabric to lay back properly over your ass from the water forcing them up to nestle between your cheeks as you jumped into the lake. The action wasn’t graceful, in fact it was far from it, but from the edge of the beach where Eddie sat currently having an out of world experience it was the sexiest, hottest thing he had ever witnessed you doing. Even though he couldn't see it he just knew the skin of your ass would jiggle as the elastic snapped back against it. 

“Seriously dude!” This time Gareth shoved him, almost spilling the beer in the bottle over his lap, most definitely making the little situation with the raging boner straining against the mesh a lot worse had it gone further than sloshing around the neck.

Somehow he managed to regain focus and partake in a conversation which mostly consisted of slagging his boss off, coupled with a few swares which had several moms turning their heads in a glare. And somehow he managed to calm down and let his mind focus on other things as his cock slowly softened beneath the black and blue fabric. 

“So Edward Munson” Steve grinned as he walked over the sand and slapped his friend on the shoulder “Don't let Nancy hear your wife calling you that, she'll start walking around calling me Stephen” he grimaced as Eddie turned from Gareth chuckling at his comment. “Seems something you did was successful” he walked over and sank down into the chair Gareth previously occupied, walking off to answer Jeff calling him over. 

“Seems so” Eddie raised his bottle in a mock cheer as Steve uncapped his own “Seriously dude you gotta tell me how the fuck you manage to hold out that long” he leaned in, deepening his voice so no one could overhear. “What hold out for six months? a hellofalot of polaroids and dirty magazines and taking alleged showers” Eddie’s smirk matched Steves as he chuckled, Steve let out a loud obnoxious snort “No, bro, you're like 40 years old-” “41” Eddie grimaced as he cut him off “Right well 41, I’ve never in my life heard a bed make so much noise, you were going at it for like 30 minutes with constant eek eek eek” it was Eddies turn to snort now as Steve copied Gareth's form of imitating the bed squeaking.

“Do 50 hour weeks at an auto repair shop and maybe you'll catch up to me” Steve laughed as he spread his legs and sunk further into the wood. Ophelia ran up dripping cold water all over him as she hung off the armrest of his chair “What's up rugrat?” Eddie ruffled her already tousled and drenched hair “Dad wanna come play princess with me, Mercy, Louise and Emma? Roxette doesn't want to, says it's for girls. Even though she is one which I don't understand” Ophelia mumbled the last sentence as a low rumble left Eddies chest in the form of a deep chuckle “Not right now sweetheart, daddys talking to Steve right now but maybe later” he offered an apologetic smile towards his daughter. Even though he loved her, he wasn't quite fond of having her smear her moms makeup on his face as he wore a blanket for a dress, he was banished from wearing your dresses since he almost flashed Roxette while jumping on the couch. 

“Okeeey” Ophelia grumbled and ran off to join Steve and Jonathans daughters who were already pulling at Charlottes arms. His gaze turned from his eldest to find you stepping off the jetty and making your way through the sand towards him. It was almost uncharacteristic how quickly he switched from trying not to upset his daughter to hungrily watch you in motion. Sure he drifted off and lost focus sometimes, ok a lot, but this wasn't something normal for him, he didn't even hear as Steve barked out a laugh beside him at the change in demeanour, before he even got a chance to let his eyes drift up and down your body you were stood in front of him, lips moving as you talked but not a single word registering to him. 

He straightened his back and fought with himself as he desperately tried not to let his eyes roam your body and instead look into your eyes giving you his full attention “Huh sorry what?” Steve barked another laugh beside him, you giggled “I just said hi” you reached over behind him to grab your towel on the back of his chair, “Oh hi” Eddie breathed as your tits hovered two inches away from his nose, suddenly all the air had left the sphere around earth and he had to sputter to find his breath.

A pressing matter swam to the front of his mind and ripped him out of his trance “Where's Rocky?” he whipped his head around to look behind you and scan the beach “She’s inside, Arianas showing her the wonders of The Notorious B.I.G” you ran the towel over your head, squeezing the water out of your hair “Great first Tupac now B.I.G, you know I really had hope for her, she was listening to Mötley Crue and everything” the brown bottle raised to his lips as he took a sip of the now luke warm beer, he scrunched his face up in disgust and propped the drink into the sand. 

“Hah relax babe, she still obsessed with Mötley Crue, not that I’m very happy about it, the day she starts fangirling over them is the day I divorce you” Eddie scrunched his face up again, soft lines forming on his nose as his brows furrowed “Im kidding!” you held your hands up. With your towel in your hand and arms out by your sides Eddie was fighting for dear life to keep eye contact with you, if only he had his sunglasses on. 

“Oh yo the car” Steve cut into the admittedly mundane but to Eddie, it was a heart squeezing conversation with his wife “Oh right!” Eddie made to stand up as you moved out of the way, eagerly you took his place as the seat next to you vacated with Steve standing to join him. 

It was your turn to oggle now. 

For the first time since December, watching Eddie pull at the neck of his threadbare t-shirt was exhilarating. Unbeknownst to you you were falling into the exact same trance Eddie had been, where the world fell silent and time stopped. Your eyes widened as you saw the sun bleached fabric float over his skin, inch by inch revealing that faint happy trail and that toned v-line pointed down like an arrow towards the price you were now dying to win over. Toned abs revealed themselves slowly next to a set of sleek inked hips, twigs and vines littered with roses winding down the v-line, roses matching the ones that sat under your right breast, peeking out from under your bra. A demon head and a spider showed on his left peck, hovering above a large majestic dragon protecting its four ribbed eggs, each symbolising a different person he admired and loved deeply, a constant reminder that he never wanted to lose them. Ophelia, Roxette, Wayne and you. 

Tattoo sleeves windled from his shoulders down to his wrists, puppet masters, bats, more dragons, daggers, dice and so much more all woven perfectly together resting under the surface of the soon to be golden brown skin. Formerly pale now tanning shining under the brightness of the sky, reflection of the water sparkling at his sides.

It was your turn to not register a word as Eddie spoke “We’re just gonna go have a look at Steve’s car, I’ll be back in a bit” you felt your neck twist as you followed the collections of tattoos on chiselled muscles past you where a hand dropped his shirt onto the arm of the chair and back behind you, leaning in your chair and twisting uncomfortably to follow the wide spread wings connecting to a female form, organs on show and hands displayed to its side, a tribute to his musical hero and favourite album In Utero by Nirvana. 

You felt like a teenager caught staring at her crush as you whipped around to look back at the beach when both Steve and Eddie turned to look back at you. 

“Dude she was totally checking you out?” Steve slapped him on his chest as they tread through the grass “What? Who?” Eddie turned to see you quickly pull back in your chair “Who do you think idiot?”.

Part 2!

[bucknastysbabe]

hi cal! i love your page sm. i wanted to request more chubby bucky (i’m so obsessed & haven’t seen him in a min) also make sure to take care of yourself and have a good day/night 🩷

HI!!!! Sorry I’ve been such a spazz and awful about my page and askbox I’m in my new era blah blah but YES! CHUBBY BUCKY! Thanks for the well wishes I’m trying to practice ~self care~ and ~time management~ mwah mwah much love. So let’s say this just in the same universe as Poolside Blues!

Rating: Explicit

Tags: TW: body dysmorphia, obsessive thoughts, negative body talk, Muscle chub Buck, Bucky’s shit self esteem is saved by sunshine gf, holiday weight gain, Bucky being a stubborn mf, switch!Bucky, reader has empathic projection, horny texts, body worship, WE LOVE SOFT PARTS AND STRETCH MARKS ROUND HERE, teasing, sub space, daddy kink, pnv!sex, cuddles and fluff, Bucky is just a big cuddly tiger kitty

“Bucky if you stare at the scale any longer I’m going to break it. Holidays are over, you can get back to being in the gym twenty-five eight.”

Bucky eyed his petite girlfriend, frowning from the doorway to the bathroom. He palmed his stupid fucking gut and sighed, he actually had to suck in to see the number! This is why Bucky hated the holidays. Besides being cold. James Buchanan Barnes very much disliked the cold, one could assume why.

He could handle the residual un-moveable pudge leftover from Hydra’s ever consistent tinkering with his bodily functions. But then it all started with Halloween. Wanda and his girlfriend loved to bake. So he’s getting force fed cookies. Then they need to decorate, go to functions, give out candy. No time for gym.

Bucky grumbled and stepped off the scale, padding to his closet. He grumbled more, “Stupid turkey holiday.” Great yes, the holiday known for feasting. Pumpkin spiced everything in his vision. Bucky had a weakness for pumpkin, his ma made good spiced bread. He took a short vacation with his lovely little angel to the mountains. He tried to rationalize that hiking and marathon sex would make up for the amount of food he had ingested.

Tony Stark of course had a grandiose Thanksgiving celebration. Bucky tried to keep it light, he did, he really did. But every refusal got sad eyes or downright offense. The former winter soldier was belly up by the end of the night, all gym plans out the window.

Christmas fared no better. His best gal absolutely adored Christmas. It was the first holiday she’d experience not as an asset to Hydra, just like Bucky. So instead of RUNNING or LIFTING, the Brunette was shopping and ice skating. He’d already gone up a size in clothes December 3rd to be exact. Bucky correctly guessed he would go up another post-Christmas.

He’d whinge and rant to Steve, the blondie listening and telling Bucky to chill— it’s not like anyone thought it was bad. Bucky exasperatedly shouted, “I’m like a goddamn balloon! I don’t need to be on missions like this! I’m going to Bruce, jerk.”

“Punk.”

Bruce didn’t help either. Just said once he got back into a routine it would come off and he’d be at his regular weight. Refused to give Bucky Ozempic either. Some kinda doctor he was, his patient was obviously distraught.

“Are you dressed yet?,” she hollered.

“Give me a second!,” Bucky pouted.

He was going to pout today. Go to gym, get anger out, and pout. So he shimmied on some catastrophically tight basketball shorts and the biggest shirt he could find. Luckily it covered him up. May or may not have been a panic buy. Bucky cursed some more sitting on his bench to lace up his shoes, stupid gut getting in the way.

Red faced and irritated he snarked, “Happy now princess? I’m going to the gym, nothing is stopping me, I will be going to work out.” She grinned and watched him grab his bag, slapping a round ass cheek on his way out. Bucky shuddered at the wobble. Her familiar rasp rang out, “Nice ass baby! Go get em!”

He was too old for this. Technically his girl was ten years his junior if you took off the cryogenic time. He loved her dearly, always bubbly, somehow remained optimistic after all she’d been through. But the little freak liked Bucky’s pudge, loved it. Always grabbing up on it.

Bucky took the stairs to the gym. He needed it. The brunette thought with a smirk that if he had a nickel for every time he had to remove her hands from his ‘handles of love’ he would’ve been a millionaire back during the Depression. He grimaced at the feeling of his chubby tummy and thick thighs.

Finally. He’d made it. Gym time.

Not a soul in sight, Bucky could just relax and get his frustrations out. With a fuck-ton of a cardio and some toning exercises— really didn’t need any muscle to bulk him out more. He felt a bit peaceful for once, a strange bravado coming over him. The soldier stretched his unused muscles and did a bit of breathing exercises.

God, he already felt lighter. Maybe. Maybe he would take a picture and see if the camera made him look different. Bucky’s therapist already hammered him about his ‘body dysmorphia and negative self-image’.

Taking a peak about and tying his hair half up, Bucky propped the camera at a flattering angle and yanked off his shirt. He refused to look in a mirror for the holidays unless he was clothed. Fiddling with the inane controls, the man finally had the thing on a timer. He pulled off his shirt and tried to pose, straighten up his back again.

The flash went off and he ran to the phone, hit send, then sat down on a nearby bench to look fully. The brunette had to keep his ‘body positive!’ thoughts at the forefront. His chest and legs looked good. Face didn’t look too puffy thanks beard.

Disgust picked the earlier bravado up and hulk smashed it. Buck’s eyes were glued to his rounded belly and fat hips, a muffin over those horrid shorts. There, oh my god, there were stretchmarks on him? Bucky never had stretchmarks! Not the red kind! But there they were— mocking him. Ragged lines on his hips and sections of stomach.

He deleted the picture, feeling horrid. He should run more. But not before the pings blowing up his phone. She was strange and texted in 5 different messages that could’ve been sent in one singular text.

“Babbbbyyyy omg you’re so hot”

“Fuck, I’m getting all flustered in this debrief.”

“Look at that pretty body. Wanna lick those pretty stripes, tiger.”

“I’m so horny lmfao get your ass back to the room in 30. I’m gonna fucking ride you so goddamn hard.”

Bucky blinked a bit, feeling himself perk up. He still was a overblown balloon, but at-least the weirdo he loved enjoyed it. “Tiger huh,” he murmured, scratching at the sensitive marks. Bucky had a time limit now, snatching his gear up and stuffing it into a bag, hustling down the stairs to his room.

“Hey Buck,” Sam’s voice was a blur as Bucky entered his room. He smirked a bit hearing a muffled, “Weird ass.” The super soldier kept his mind on the prize— getting the daylights fucked out of him by his girls. Nope he wasn’t going to pay attention to the chafe on the inside of his thighs one bit. Okay...maybe he’d powder the area after the shower.

All he had to do was wait now. Wait. Not get nerved about his very naked body. He felt like a pile of exposed lard but it’ll be okay. Yep. Bucky would be fine. Pussy would fix his problems. As long as she played nice and didn’t tease. That rendered Bucky into a teary, babbling mess. Either he was always a masochist or Hydra made him into one but God— sometimes when she got mean he saw stars.

The door busted open, Bucky feeling relief at her grinning face. She gently closed it behind her, stripping easily while throwing her panties at him. He caught the material, moaning softly as she growled, “See what you did to me in the middle of that debrief? Had to cut it short my pheromones were so bad.”

Bucky inspected the panties, eyes fluttering at the slick wetting the cloth. He gripped and inhaled, hand flying down to soothe his cock. A lithe body crawled to the end of the bed, the soldier flushing as she seated herself in between his thighs. Keeping him in fucking missionary, her manicured nails spreading him a bit. He gasped, body jolting at the exposure.

Her perky tits heaved as she groped at his thighs and slid down to get handfuls of his round ass. Bucky threw his head back and moaned, “W-What are you up to?” Earlier mentioned pheromones were making his body keyed up and sensitive, pupils likely swallowing up blue eyes. She leaned forward, taught body against his cock.

“Mmm- I don’t know really. You just looked so delicious,” she kissed his belly and cooed, “I know you’re upset with yourself right now, Buck, you’re fucking gorgeous. Holiday weight or not. But I’ll even go to the gym with you, know I’ve been a distraction.”

Bucky slurred a name, hands reaching for her waist, she was so sweet. He sighed, “I enjoyed you as my distraction, best disss-traction everrr. Fuck you’re makin’ me horny babydoll.” She crawled up his bigger body to plant a kiss on Bucky’s swollen lips before sliding back to her place. His cock leaked when she giggled, “I know, poor baby’s all achy for me. But I wanna do something first.”

She slid palms up and down Bucky’s muscled arms, soothing him a little. Then the she-devil gripped his chunky love-handles and shook, watching with poorly-disguised glee. Bucky whined, “Baaaby, stoppp, it’s awful!”

“Think of them as tiger stripes, they’ll fade out when you drop weight,” she dug under where his belly hung a bit and traced at his most sensitive stretch marks. Bucky let out an indecent noise, thrusting up into her sweet touch. The fellow avenger cooed, “S’that feel good tiger? Need some lotion. Pretty boy.”

Bucky outright whimpered when her hand wrapped around his weepy cock, already slick from copious pre. She slowly moved her hand, praising him. Pretty boy, smart, handsome, good, kind, helpful.

He was going to bust a nut before anything happened. Bucky barked, “B-babe, stop! Stop!” Her pretty brows knitted together, hand jerking away as she asked, “What’s wrong bub?” He panted, “Gimme a second, w-wanna fuck you so baaaad.” She gently stroked the outside of thick muscled thighs, padded with love in her opinion.

“Thought I was going to ride you?,” she asked, face beginning to flush.

Bucky shook his head, managing to push himself up to get face-to-face. His soft body filled the tight space between them, making her whimper now. Bucky used one hand to caress the side of her face, the other massaging her pretty tit. Long lashes fluttered, her lips falling open.

Score. He managed to somewhat fumble through the pheromone fog.

Bucky rumbled, “Nuh-uh, all this talk about my body and you don’t want me to pin you down and fill your pretty pussy up? Hm sweetheart?” He punctuated the sentence with a deep kiss, the sweet thing easily giving up to him. It was fun when she played mean but Bucky had more experience— he could play his girl like a fucking fiddle.

“C’mon,” smack, “use your,” smack, “words baby,” smack smack. She didn’t want to stop kissing, sucking on his bottom lip as he pulled away. She blushed, embarrassed on how fast the situation had flipped. His girl whined, “Yeah, c’mon fuck me, fuck me full daddy.” He grinned and laid back, strong arms pulling her atop him.

She squealed, eyes widening. Bucky purred, “You know what to do, Daddy’ll let you on top.” He bit his swollen lip again watching the tip of his clock get swallowed by molten heat, the pair of them shuddering in ecstasy. Her little hands planted on his chest, panting and whining at the fullness. He’d get to work, holding that pretty waist and fucking up into her tight cunt.

It wasn’t long before she was crying out and laying atop his body, gasping, “Y’feel so good! Ah! Soft and oh god s’fucking hard!” Bucky sucked at her neck and thrust into her with downright pornographic slaps. He grunted and gasped, legs wonderfully getting another workout.

He murmured into her ear, a hand stilling all that writhing the poor thing was doing, “Yeah doll? Daddy fucking you good? Feels good to lay on Daddy and get your pussy pounded huh?” She sobbed, clenching and spilling tears on his neck, “Yes daddy! Yes! Don’t stop, fuckfuckfuck, s’rubbing my clit! I love you Daddy!”

Bucky’s eyes crossed for a second. What?

The evil flab that curses his very existence is a free clit rubber? He moaned in delight. Bucky changed their position some to milk out that new fact. Might as well abuse it before it’s gone. His baby was clinging to him now, mewling his name, pussy spasming sporadically. Bucky tilted her head up, melting at her pretty eyes. He rasped, “Come for Daddy baby, know you’re close, let go babydoll.”

He was grinding the tip of his cock into her soft spot while cooing at her. She hiccuped on a sob, the entirety of lean frame tightening down on him. His baby was a lot stronger than she looked. He could feel her core clamp and soak his cock, sending Bucky reeling into his own orgasm with a hoarse shout. He whimpered at the feeling of his balls drawing painfully tight, emptying all he had pent up.

They laid in a pile of sweat and spend, probably love. She was still subbed out, nuzzling into Bucky, only making a soft noise when his soft cock slid out. The brunette guessed it was his turn to return her earlier favor. He felt like the man of the hour. Crazy little kitten thought her geriatric overweight cyborg assassin was hot. Even with the holiday pounds.

So he pressed little kisses, rubbed her back, waxed poetic nonsense of his love for her. Bucky was a lover boy back in the day, just a little rusty, not like his Babygirl was on planet Earth right now anyways. She murmured into his neck with a dopey smile, “Tiger.”

Once again, crazy fellow asset saving Bucky’s wavering self-esteem. How lucky was he?

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 118

Part 1 Part 117

Winter break passes better than summer had for Will. Mom’s loosened his leash enough that he can go to the arcade unsupervised, or hang out at Dustin’s house, or sequester himself in Mike’s stuffy basement and run a campaign like the good old days.

El closed the gate, and everyone’s convinced the Upside-Down is gone. Only Steve, Eddie, and Will can feel their connection stretch the miles between their abodes and know the truth: it’s not over.

Things will never be the same again.

Will doesn’t mention it. This little slice of normalcy is far too precious to jeopardize with the truth.

The holiday’s in the Byers house have always been low-key, but it’s been worse since last year. They don’t even put up lights anymore. No one’s told him why, and he hasn’t asked.

Still, when he asks his Mom, she gladly agrees to host their extended family. They’d done it at the Munson’s last year, hemmed into a space far too small for that many bodies.

It’s Eddie who suggests a secret santa exchange. Everyone huddles in Will’s living room, pulling names from one of Wayne’s baseball caps, groaning when Carol draws the last slip and it’s her own name. They crumple the pieces and try again.

Will stares down at El’s name and sneaks furtive looks up at her. She wasn’t around last Chrismtas, still holed up in Chief Hopper’s cabin pretending not to exist. But, her leash has been loosened as well, so here she is, beaming down at her own drawn name and bouncing on her toes with excitement.

Has she ever celebrated a holiday before? Has she ever even gotten a present?

It’s a lot of pressure. He feels it pushing down on him, but then Steve throws his arm around Will’s shoulders and initiates their usual tug, tug, tug ritual, and it all eases off. Like, Steve, even unknowingly, will always take the weight off Will’s shoulders and carry it himself.

He stares down at the piece of paper and starts to plan.

It takes the entire allotted two weeks to finish. He stares down at the finished project. Will she like it? Is he skipping over some boundary he doesn’t even know is there?

It doesn’t matter: he’s out of time, so he rolls the paper up and pushes it carefully into one of Jonathan’s old poster tubes, and rushes into the living room to wrap it.

Everyone gathers, sitting on couches and chairs and the carpet. Dustin crouches in the corner where they’d all piled their presents, squinting at small handwriting and passing around a variety of parcels.

They go in a circle, gift after gift. Will opens his own, beaming down at a trio of hand-painted figures from Lucas.

When Jonathan opens his, he stares down at it, mouth opening and closing, no sounds coming out. Will leans over to peer around the half-unwrapped gift to see what’s robbed him of speech.

It’s a cassette player, still in the original box, and it must be nice based on the way Jonathan’s staring at it like it’s the holy grail.

“I put a tape in it for you to listen to,” Steve says. His cheeks are pink, and he’s twiddling the ring on his pinkie. “You said I owed you one.”

Jonathan reaches out to pry the box open, staring in like he’ll find the answers to the meaning of life rather than a cassette player. “I was kidding,” Jonathan replies, but he’s smiling down at it now as he pulls it out of the box and pops the deck to look at what’s inside.

“You don’t even want to know what Stevie here had to do to get Johnny boy's name from the draw,” Eddie says, smiling from where he’s sitting on the rug. Steve elbows him in the ribs, but he just keeps talking. “And then he had to do it all over again when Perky Perkins screwed all his hard work and drew her own name.”

Carol gasps, rounding on Steve and kicking out at him ruthlessly close to his crotch. “You told him?” she shrieks.

Will has no idea what they’re on about but he laughs along with everyone else, watching all three of them descend into an all-out wrestling match like the children they’re not.

It doesn’t stop until they get dangerously close to knocking over the TV, and Mom claps to get their attention. They all settle back in to finish opening presents.

Because Will’s life has always been an unlucky one, El goes last. His anxiety ratchets up with every minute that passes, reaching an all-time-high as she finally starts peeling the paper away.

Unlike the rest of them, she picks the tape off the foil, peeling it away, careful not to rip the paper at all. She folds it all nicely, and hands it to Chief Hopper for safe-keeping.

She then stares down at the cardboard tube, brow furrowed until Mike tells her she has to open the other end. El flips the tube on its head, pulls off the top, and pulls out the rolled up paper inside.

With that same characteristic care, she unrolls it, only to gasp at what she finds. Will watches her face, digging his fingernails into his thighs.

“What is it?” Chief Hopper asks, leaning over her shoulder to ger a peek. He looks down at it with an expressionless face before smiling and patting her shoulder.

El nods, not looking away from the page in front of her.

Will has limited supplies, but he’d used all the best colored pencils he owns, and had Jonathan buy him a big piece of paper from Melvald’s.

On one edge of the page stands El. She looks fierce the way she has every time he’s seen her use her powers, hand raised and a huge beam of white light cutting across the darkness.

Within that beam, he’s painted all the people in this room. First, Chief Hopper in his police uniform, standing beside Mom, gun raised and pointed toward the darkness. Then, Mike, Lucas, and Dusin, dressed as their D&D characters holding a variety of weapons. Will, Steve, and Eddie stand farther along the page, back to back to back as they cover each other’s weak bits. Then Jonathan and Nancy, Nancy with a gun, and Jonathan slightly behind her, all ready to face whatever comes out of the darkness. And at the farthest corner, Barb stands with a baseball bat covered in nails, Carol standing slightly behind her, pointing into the darkness like she’s clueing Barb in on a monster’s location.

The whole thing ended up a little messy. Nancy’s hands look wonky, and there’s something wrong with Steve’s nose, but El’s beaming down at it like it’s the Mona Lisa.

“Be careful with it until we can get a frame for it,” Chief Hopper says, hand still clasping onto her shoulder.

She looks up at him, smiling even wider as she asks, “I can put it in my room?”

“Of course, kid.”

El stares down at the page for a few seconds more before rolling it back up with slow movements, making it small enough that it slides perfectly into its roll. She puts it on Chief Hopper’s lap, staring down at it for a second like she can’t bear to look away.

She then barrels across the room, colliding with Will so hard that they both end up on the carpet. “Thank you, Will,” El says, clutching onto him hard.

He pats her back awkwardly, looking around the room for help and finding none. “You’re welcome.”

“It is the best present I have ever gotten.”

That makes Will a little sad, but all he says is, “Merry Christmas.” He waits uncomfortably for her to get off him so he can sit back up.

It’s not long until everyone starts trickling out, Carol and Barbara herding Max and Lucas along with them to drop off, and Nancy snagging Mike and Dustin after sharing a kiss with Jonathan that Eddie makes barfing noises at.

Chief Hopper shepherds El into his truck, and Wayne follows them out, off to work the night shift.

Only Eddie and Steve stay. They all pile into Will’s room. His bed’s not big enough for the three of them, so they curl around each other on the floor, blankets haphazardly piled atop them.

It doesn’t take Will long to fall asleep, comfortable with Steve and Eddie at his back, the comforting sounds of his Mom cleaning up in the other room.

Part 119

[kueble]

I Just Need You By My Side, Cause I'm Warmer in the Winter With You

Another very self-indulgent Christmas fic.

Teen. Warnings: Mentions of torture. 5,600 words.

Ghost/Soap

---

“Shouldn’t you be packing up?” Ghost asks him from where he leans against his doorway. Soap shrugs and sets down the pencil in his hand. He’s been sketching for about an hour now, trying to wind down at the end of a hectic day. Everyone on base is giddy at the thought of going home for the holidays, and the energy is almost overwhelming..

“Sorry, but you’ll have to get used to my ugly mug around here. I know you’re one of the only ones here most Christmases, but I don’t have anywhere else to be this year,” he explains, hoping years of interrogation techniques pay off and Ghost doesn’t call him on the lie. Though it’s partially true, since there’s nowhere he’d rather be then in the barracks with him.

“Don’t you usually have a big family celebration? Remember you rambling about nieces and nephews and being forced into midnight mass by your mother,” Ghost asks, eyes narrowing behind the black balaclava he’s chosen to wear today.

“Glad to know you actually listen to me when I shoot my mouth off,” he laughs out.

“Never miss a word, Johnny,” Ghost tells him evenly.

“So any other year, yeah I'd be home, but things are out of sorts this year with my sisters traveling to their husband’s families, and me Ma and Pa planned a little trip of their own,” he says. Sure, the little trip was right down the road to his brother’s house where everyone would be gathered like every other year, but no need for Ghost to know that.

Last year it was excruciating to leave Ghost on the tarmac, saying goodbyes as everyone else went home to their families. He doesn’t know much, but it’s clear Ghost no longer has anyone waiting for him back at home. They’d all joked about him haunting the base, probably maskless with the skeleton crew left behind and any other puns they could come up with. Still, there was a bleakness in Ghost’s eyes that he never wanted to see again.

Thankfully he’s never been able to hide his feelings from his parents, especially his mother, and she didn’t even bat an eye when he told her his plans. She’d said something cheesy about the magic of the season bringing them closer together, which he’d quickly scoffed off. He wasn’t doing this with any ulterior motives in place. It was a simple fact that his best friend shouldn’t be alone over the long holiday break they were lucky enough to get two years in a row.

If he happens to be completely ass over tits in love with him, he’s smart enough to keep it to himself.

“Guess it could be nice to have some company, even yours,” Ghost teases with a snort. Soap rolls his eyes, but he’s smirking still.

“Do you cook anything for it or rely on the mess hall for Christmas dinner?” he asks, already planning how to make things nicer for him. They may be stuck on a mostly empty base, but there’s no reason why he can’t make it as comfortable as possible.

“Sometimes I make a pot of soup for the week, but nothing special for the day itself. Tend to keep to myself,” he says softly. And that just won’t do.

“Happy to help sample anything you cook, but since I burn water, I’ll order us something nice from town. It shouldn’t be too late for a small catering order. You like lasagna?” he asks, already thinking of the perfect little Italian place near here.

“Wouldn’t say no to it, but there’s no need to get fancy over me,” Ghost mumbles. It only makes Soap more determined to bring a little Christmas magic into his life this year.

“I’ll take care of dinner and you just bring the good company,” he says to settle it. He’ll place an order first thing in the morning, already planning to buy way more food than they need. Ghost deserves to be spoiled, and leftovers are a rare commodity around here.

“Not sure I’ll contribute much in that regard, but yeah, I can show up,” he agrees.

“No one else I’d rather spend the day with. Honestly,” Soap admits, but Ghost just huffs at him.

“Piss off, Johnny,” he says with a laugh. Before he can figure out a response, the man is already gone. It may just be the hardest thing he’s ever done, but he’s damned sure going to make sure Ghost knows how much Soap likes being around him, especially now. Likes, not loves, because he has a feeling that’s something he’ll take to his grave. Being around him will just have to do for now.

—

The poster fell off the wall for the three thousandth time, and Soap barely managed to keep himself in check. Price would have his head if he blew up the base, but it’s getting more and more likely. It’s a stupid thing, really, just a fake Christmas tree by a fireplace, but he bought it to cheer up their rec room. He grumbles under his breath, reciting every swear he knows and probably inventing some new ones along the way.

“Problems, Sergeant?” Ghost asks from his spot on the couch. There’s a hint of laughter on the edges of his voice, and Soap spins around to glare at him.

“There is in fact,” he spits out before taking a couple of deep breaths to calm himself down. No use in pissing off the man he’s trying to decorate for. “These walls are apparently covered in fifty some years of filth, and I can’t get the damn tape to stick. Seriously, it’s like teflon and I’m actually afraid to think about what could be coating this wall right now.”

“This that important to you?” Ghost asks, head tilted like he’s studying him.

“Aye,” Soap sighs out. “Just wanted to brighten up the room a bit. We can’t have a real tree, and I’ve been banned from open flames on base, but I thought this stupid fucking poster might work. Wanna sneak off base and burn it with me? Might raise my spirits.”

“How about I fix it instead,” Ghost says, standing up to stomp over to the wall.

“You’re more than welcome to try, but not even sure duct tape will hold the damn thing at this point,” he says, scowling at the wall. Seriously, he was going to beg Price to get the room deep cleaned as soon as he was back on base. Can’t be safe.

Ghost shrugs before bumping him out of the way with his hip. He holds the poster with one hand and reaches into the back of his jeans with the other. The knife he pulls out is on the small side, but it does the job when he stabs it through the poster and into the wall. Nodding proudly, he slides another knife out of his sleeve and buries it in the other top corner. The final blade is tucked in his boot, and he takes a few steps back before flinging it at the wall.

It lands perfectly in the bottom center of the poster, and Soap chubs up in his sweats at the display of skill.

“Guess that works, too,” he murmurs, actively avoiding Ghost’s gaze. No need to show off how fucking gone on him he is, and he knows there’s hearts in his eyes right now. He’s bound to be suspicious just based on how desperate Soap is to make things perfect, to give him a better Christmas than year past, and he should try better to keep his feelings hidden. Not looking to get his heart broken over the holidays.

“Anything for you, Johnny,” Ghost tells him as he strides back to the couch and picks up his book again. Soap can feel his cheeks heating up and blurts out some half-assed excuse before making a tactful retreat.

—

He debates waiting until morning, but Soap is too curious about the package in his hands to wait that long. His box of gifts from his family arrived today, but he didn’t bother unpacking it until after dinner. Everything was neatly labeled - or scribbled by his nieces and nephews - with his name except for one.

To Ghost, From Ma MacTavish. Open Immediately.

Not one to disobey his mother, Soap raps on Ghost’s door and hopes this isn’t something too embarrassing. Lord knows his entire family is annoying enough already over his little crush, and he doesn’t need his mother stepping in to help him. There’s a rustling from behind the door before it’s swung open by a brooding Ghost. Anyone else might not see how moody he is, but Soap can tell just by studying his eyes.

“What do ya need?” he asks, voice cracking from disuse.

“Got a special delivery for you and instructions for you to open it right away,” Soap informs him, holding up the package like the peace offering that it is. Ghost eyes it suspiciously but steps aside and lets him into the room. While he’d love a chance to look around, Soap keeps his focus on Ghost out of respect for his privacy. He knows just letting him into the room was a big step for the other man.

“Your mum sent this?” Ghost asks as he takes the parcel from him. Soap nods and smiles warmly as Ghost’s eyes widen. “Better not keep her waiting then,” Ghost mutters before sitting on the edge of his bed. The package looks huge, even in his large hands, and Soap really wonders what it could be.

He tears the paper at the seams, carefully working a finger down the edge of it. It’s gentle in a way that hints of Christmases past and perhaps being yelled at to keep the wrapping for next year. Soap’s grandma used to do that and iron out each crease to save money.

When Ghost finally removes the paper, soap breathes a sigh of relief at seeing the present isn’t anything to worry about. Trust his mother to try and take care of someone she’s never met. Ghost holds up the blanket, blinking slowly at it. Soap supposes he isn’t used to getting many gifts, especially not something handmade. The blanket itself is a mix of blank and white granny squares, no doubt crocheted with love by his mother. Everyone in their house has at least one of these piled at the foot of their bed, and his heart warms at the thought of Ghost having one on his.

“She made it?” he asks in a whisper, and Soap wants to cry about it. There’s no reason a gift should put him in such a state of awe, and he vows right then and there to spoil him as much as he’s allowed to under the guise of friendship.

“You’re looking at a Ma MacTavish special right there. Everyone in the family has one, and it looks like she thinks highly of you,” he confirms.

“Never even met me.”

“Well, I suppose I’ve entertained her with a tale of two of the man who saved my life so many times. Besides, how else do you think she’d know the perfect color scheme for an emo bastard like yourself,” He says in an attempt to lighten the mood. The corners of Ghost’s eyes crinkle up, and he knows there’s a smile beneath the mask.

“You’ll have to thank her for me. No, wait! I’ll get a thank you note together for the next time you send mail home. That alright?” he asks almost timidly, which isn’t an emotion Soap’s sure he’s ever shown before.

“She’ll love that. Sorry to barge in on you so late at night, but I’m glad I did. Should probably be heading to bed, though,” Johnny says with a pout. Dreams of being asked to stay, to tuck himself against Ghost under that very blanket flash through his mind and he has to get out of here quickly before he shows his hand.

“Me too. Night, Johnny,” Ghost says, and he understands it for the dismissal that it is. The last thing he sees as he ducks out the door is Ghost spreading the blanket across the top of his bed and smoothing it out. He’ll have to send his mother a thank you note as well.

—

There is absolutely no reason for them to be in Soap’s room instead of the rec room, but he wasn’t about to say no when Ghost suggested it. Currently they are sitting on his bed - which is way too small for two grown ass men - with their backs against the wall and his laptop propped on top of their thighs. Ghost is a constant warm presence at his side, and he’s pretty sure he would be completely lost if he hadn’t seen this movie so many times.

They each have a glass of their preferred poison in hand, and Ghost has his mask tucked up over his nose while he purses his lips at the screen in front of them. He is so fucking stunning with the light from the laptop highlighting the planes of his face, and Soap would be weak in the knees were he standing. Not that Soap is abusing his trust just to watch him more than the movie. Absolutely not. Still, the sight of Simon’s sharp jawline is a rare one and he can’t seem to stop staring. He longs to scrap his teeth over the scar that curves around it and has to hold himself back from scooting even closer to him.

“I don’t get it,” Ghost says, breaking him out of his dangerous thoughts.

“How so?” he asks, eyes already turned back to the screen to see what part of the movie they’ve reached. Nearly done at this point, but the silly plot has been a fun distraction. They don’t often get downtime, time totally free of responsibilities, and he hopes he can go without this once everything is back to normal.

“This just seems so improbable. His family forgot to bring him to the airport and they don’t have a single family friend they can call in the meantime? The police are actively searching for these two assholes and yet a child is the only one who manages to take them down? Gotta admit some of these traps are pretty awesome, though,” Ghost rambles out.

“One, I can’t believe you’ve made it this far in life without watching this. Two, this film is a masterpiece because it makes you suspend reality. Three, I’m pretty sure this is why I ended up in demolitions anyway. Do you know how many things I blew up after seeing this? I thought my Pa was going to murder me just as an example for my brothers and sisters. One time I rigged a frying pan to hit my brother in the face and it broke his fucking nose,” Soap says, unable to hold in his laughter. “Pretty sure he was about to pack me off and make me Nan deal with me, but my Ma couldn’t let her baby go.”

“You’re a real piece of work, Johnny,” Ghost tells him softly. He brings his glass up to his mouth, and Soap watches him swallow slowly, desperately trying to remind himself how they’re friends and nothing more. “Glad it brought you to me, though.”

“Yeah,” he breathes out, heart pounding in his chest.

But then they fall into an easy silence, and he’s forced to turn back to the movie. They both finish their drinks as the plot winds down, and he’s about to offer another when Ghost grabs his wrist to stop him from standing up. He looks down, worried that he’s overstepped somehow, and the tightness in Ghost’s clenched jaw startles him.

“We’ve had a good week, yeah?” Ghost asks quietly.

“Loved every second of it,” Soap blurts out before he can stop himself.

“Might not love this so much,” Ghost says with a sigh. “I’ve…I’ve never been this close with anyone, barely even shared this with Price, but I’d like to give you some sort of explanation for why I keep to myself at Christmas. If you’ll listen, that is.”

“Ghost, I will always be here, no matter what you want to tell me. Thank you for trusting me so much, but are you sure you want to do this while we’re drinking?” he has to ask, needs to be sure his friend won’t regret this come morning.

“You think I just keep bourbon and scotch on hand? That’s kinda the reason why I brought it with me. I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while now, but I needed a little courage to do it. Just, just don’t say anything until I’m done, ok? If you do I might not be able to finish,” he warns him, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Sensing how important this is, Soap sets both their glasses on his bedside table and closes the laptop. His desk lamp is on, so they’re not totally in the dark. He knows rumors of Ghost’s past, has heard a bunch of shit about his time in captivity, but every scrap of information is dear to him. He longs to know the man beside him better than he knows himself. He leans back against the wall and angles his body towards Ghost before saying, “Course. I got you.”

“When I was little, the only person I cared about was my mum. She kept me safe, kept my dad and brother away from me the best she could. I know now that my brother was only doing what he could to avoid my dad’s rage, but it still hurt back then. I won’t lie, I had a real shitty childhood and ran into the service as soon as I could. After that, things started improving. I came back home, kicked my sorry excuse for a father out of the house, and got my brother off of drugs. Hell, I stood beside him as he married the love of his life, and I wouldn’t give that up for anything, but the memories threaten to crush me sometimes.”

He trails off and palms the back of his head, chewing at his lower lip. Soap stays silent, unwilling to break his promise even though Ghost looked on the verge of falling apart. They sit there for a long moment while he regroups and continues his story. Soap longs to reach out, to offer some sort of physical comfort, but he knows better than to act on it. Simon doesn’t enjoy being touched on a good day, and he’d absolutely hate it while letting himself be this vulnerable.

“Things were going well until I got betrayed and snagged by Roba. Fuck, Johnny,” he breaks off, swallowing thickly before pressing his fingers to his mouth. “It was bad. I won’t go into details, but you can only be tortured for so long before you start to doubt yourself, start to go mad instead of trying to fight it. I have no fucking clue how I managed to survive after being left for dead, but I eventually made it back home.”

Ghost shifts his legs, twitching as he picks at the fabric of his sweats. He takes a few deep breaths and stares ahead at the wall, shoulders tense as he continues. “They died on Christmas, and it was all my fault. Roba still had his hooks in me, and couldn't let me go since I escaped with my life. One more betrayal led me back to my mum’s house that only hours before had been full of celebration and Christmas cheer. When I got there, the whole house was up in flames. The fire was so hot, but I had to save them. Only it was too late, because they were lying dead near the doorway. They even put a bullet through the forehead of my nephew. He was so small, so fragile, and I couldn’t even save him.”

He falls quiet, and it seems like he’s finished. Soap knew it was bad, but wasn’t expecting something so tragic. He wasn’t sure what to say, so he just lays a hand on Ghost’s shoulder and squeeze it gently, deciding to risk the touch at this point. It seems to shatter something inside of him and he slumps over to lean on Soap’s shoulder.

“The men involved?” he asks quietly.

“Killed them all. Didn’t bring back my family, though. So yeah, Christmas fucking sucks, but at least I’m not alone this year. Didn’t know it would be easier with you here, but you always manage to help me stay calm. Should have expected it,” he says. His voice is tinged with exhaustion, and Soap knows he’s worn himself out.

“Thank you for trusting me with this. I, it’s, well it’s fucked up that you had to experience that. I know nothing I say can help make it much better, and I’m honestly not sure how you managed to get through it, but I’m grateful you did. I can’t imagine being here without you,” Soap says after a long moment. He knew Ghost has a shitty past, had heard about him digging himself out of his own grave, but this is a whole new level of horrible. If it happened to him, he can’t say he would still be here to talk about it.

“Price helped a lot. Pushed me through it and then kept me around,” Ghost says, turning to stare at the wall. Soap isn’t sure what he can offer at this point, but he has the feeling Ghost might not want to be alone after unloading all of this.

“Stay with me?” he asks, watching as Ghost’s shoulders rise up. He still isn’t looking at him, so he keeps talking. “I mean, you don’t have to, but I can’t imagine wanting to be by myself after such an intense conversation. Would feel bad if I let you go back to your room, really.”

“Contrary to popular belief, I don’t actually sleep with the mask on,” Ghost says with a chuckle. And ok, he can work with that.

“So let me freshen up and get myself ready for bed. You can go after me, and I’ll just sleep on my side. I can keep my eyes shut, give you your privacy,” he suggests. Ghost finally turns to look at him, and there’s a telltale hint of red around his eyes. If Soap was still religious, he’d offer up a prayer that the other man agrees. He clearly needs comforting tonight.

“Yeah, ok,” Ghost mumbles. “Gonna change into my sleep stuff, though. I’ll get ready in my room and be back in a few.”

He practically leaps out of the bed, and Soap hopes he holds true to his word. He goes through his nightly routine on autopilot, not even aware of it until he’s crawling into his bed. He leaves the side of the covers up and turns onto his side to face the wall. It’s only just catching up to him that he invited Ghost into his bed, but tonight isn’t about him. He’d be offering the same closeness to Gaz if he shared something as horrific as Ghost just did.

If anything, this only proves how amazingly strong Ghost is. He had to reinvent himself twice, the second time with no one to support him. They’ve all seen and done some really horrendous things in the name of queen and country, but he can’t fathom coming home to find the burning bodies of his family at his feet.

He’s yanked out of his spiraling thoughts by the sound of the door opening and shutting. The clunk of Ghost setting down his boots seems impossibly loud in the silence, and he holds his breath waiting for Ghost to come to bed. He hears the muffled sound of Ghost removing his mask and setting it on the bedside table and fights the urge to turn around and look at his gorgeous face. He’s here as a friend tonight, and his feelings don’t matter right now.

The bed dips behind him, and the covers shift as Ghost settles in behind him. There’s an awkward few seconds where they both shuffle around trying to figure out how two large men can fit in such a small bed, but then Ghost sighs and rolls onto his side to frame Soap from behind. He slings an arm across Soap’s hips and presses his nose against the nape of Soap’s neck. The last thing he hears as he drifts off is a soft, “Thank you, Johnny.”

—

Unsurprisingly, Ghost is gone when he wakes up. The bed is still warm, though, so he knows he spent the whole night. He wishes he could have woken him up with a Merry Christmas, but understands his need for time to himself. Chris, last night had been a lot. Hopefully he can still provide a little holiday cheer tonight, but even if they eat in silence he’ll have a great time. Every second spent at Ghost’s side is a better gift than anything he could ever fine underneath the tree.

He spends the morning in the gym, working out his frustrations. Life wasn’t fair, but it has been exceedingly rotten towards Ghost. He knows there isn’t anything he can do to change his past, but he’ll damn sure be here for his future. It feels like they crossed a line last night, but he’s not sure which one. Nothing romantic happened, but he feels closer to Ghost than anyone before. He’s willing to bet Ghost hasn’t opened up this much to many people, probably just Price, and he’s ashamed at how giddy that makes him feel.

They might not ever be together, but they’ll always be solid.

After lunch and a long, self-indulgent shower it’s easy to keep himself busy by running through last minute preparations. They hadn’t said anything about exchanging gifts, but Soap kept finding the perfect things for him.He knows Ghost will love the aged bourbon, even though it hurt his Scottish heart to buy it. There’s also a new knife that came highly recommended by their armorer and a deck of cards with holographic skulls on them. Wrapping was never his strong suit, but he managed to slap some paper onto his gifts. Sure, it looked like they were wrapped by a small child, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

He just finishes heating up the catering he picked up the day before and is about to text Ghost to hurry up and join him when his phone goes off. It’s an incoming FaceTime from his mother, and he decides there’s plenty of time to take it before Ghost swings by. He’s been missing his family all day, but they promised to call at some point.

“Ma! Happy Christmas!” he shouts, laughing as his entire family tries to crowd into the camera view.

“You’ll each get a turn, back off,” his mother says, already throwing elbows at his siblings and their kids. His dad stands next to her, silent as always but with a huge smile on his face. He lifts his glass in cheers, and Johnny waves back in response.

“We’re about to eat dinner, but It’s good to see you all. Make sure everyone gets hugs from me, even though I’m not with you this year. And pass out my presents! Make sure the kids know how much Uncle John spoils them. I want photographic evidence!” he says, laughing as one of his nieces tries to jump into the view again. His dad picks her up and wanders off, no doubt about to bribe her into behaving with cookies.

“I hope staying away is worth it,” his mother says, but she doesn’t look mad, just nosy. She’s been on him for months to bring his boy home, no matter how much he tells her they aren’t dating. Ghost is one hundred percent his boy, though, even if he hasn’t realized it yet.

“It’s worth every second away from you all,” he answers honestly, “I’ll be home as soon as we get more downtime, but you know why I have to be here. Thanks for understanding.”

“Anything for my baby,” his mom says, snorting when he scowls at her.

“You ever going to stop calling me that?” he asks, knowing full well she never will. He isn’t mad, not really, just likes to give her grief about it.

“If you didn’t want to be my baby, you’d have been born higher up the chain,” she tells him with a smirk.

“We can argue about it later. Let me get dinner on the table and then we’ll chat again later, yeah? We can pass around the phone so all the kids can show me everything they got,” he suggests, and his mom nods in response.

“Go feed your boy,” she tells him and ends the call before he can quip back at her.

“Not my boy,” he mumbles to the empty room.

But then someone clears their throat from behind him, and his heart sinks into his chest. Fuck. He spins around with a fake smile on his face to find Ghost standing there with his arms crossed.

“I’m assuming you heard all of that?” he asks with a grimace.

“You lied about your family not being together,” Ghost says, though he knows it’s a question.

“Aye, I did. And I don’t feel bad about it. I couldn’t leave you here alone again. Like it or not, I’m here for you,” he says with a sharp nod. He’s already gearing for a fight, ready to be stubborn as hell about it, but what Ghost says next throws him off his game.

“Because I’m your boy,” he asks, and Johnny can hear the fucking smirk in his voice. He has a plain balaclava on today, which is as dressed down as Ghost seems to get.

“Don’t suppose you’d be willing to let that one go? We can forget about it,” he offers quietly. Because who is he to keep dreaming, right? He’s been dropping hints for at least a year now, and Ghost hasn’t taken the bait. He teeter-totters between thinking the man returns his feelings to thinking he barely tolerates him. Regardless, he meant what he said and he’ll be standing by his side as long as Ghost lets him.

“And if I don’t want to forget it? What if I wanted to be your boy? Though I’d prefer man, if we’re being honest here,” Ghost says, and he freezes while his brain catches up.

“You fucking with me?” he asks, just because he needs to know, needs to be sure before he makes a fool of himself. Well, more of a fool than he already has.

“No, but we could fool around later if dinner goes well,” Ghost tells him, laughing as he reaches up and pulls the mask off. He tosses it onto the table, barely missing the salad bowl.

And fuck, he’s a bonnie lad. Soap can’t even speak, just stands there staring at him, eyes trailing over every exposed inch of his face, committing it to memory in case this is the last time he sees it for a while. “You’re stunning,” he whispers in awe. Then he has the pleasure of watching Ghost’s face darken, the apples of his cheeks turning pink and making the freckles dotting them stand out even more.

“Shut up,” he murmurs before stepping closer. “But yeah, I’m all in if you want this too. Want me. I’m sick of wasting time. Maybe next year we can be with your family instead of me keeping you stuck on base.”

“I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my entire life,” he says truthfully. “And I’d rather be stuck here every single year if you prefer it. But you heard my Ma. She wants you home with me.”

“Let’s make sure we make it to next Christmas, then,” he jokes, but there’s a hint of worry in his tone.

“Never letting go of you now,” Soap warns him with a laugh. Ghost chuckles and moves in so close the toes of their boots touch.

“Hard to let go if you haven’t even touched me yet,” he points out. And fuck if his smirk isn’t as lovely as Soap had imagined. It’s crooked, a scar bisecting the left side, but it’s perfect to him.

“Better fix that. Can I kiss you, Ghost?” he asks softly.

“Simon. Call me Simon when we’re alone,” he says breathily, and Soap knows how out of his comfort zone he is right now.

“Simon, can I kiss you? Please?” he asks and Simon just nods at him.

And so he does. He cups Simon’s cheeks, brushing a thumb across the constellation of freckles there, and leans in to press their mouths together. It seems almost anticlimactic after all their flirting, but the feel of Simon’s chapped lips against his is one of the best things he’s ever experienced. He can almost feel the tension leave both their bodies as they melt into each other. He keeps things light, pulls back before thinking better and darting back for another quick kiss.

Kissing Simon isn’t a burst of fireworks, but it’s like coming home which is even more perfect.

“Would now be a good time to tell you I’m really fucking in love with you?” he asks teasingly.

“Only if I can say the same,” Simon says, chuckling as he palms the back of Johnny’s head and drags him into another kiss.

And if they stand there kissing in the middle of the rundown rec room, lost in each other long after their dinner has gone cold, it’s no one's business but their own.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Mother dearest | Xavier Thorpe x Addams!Reader

Advent calendar day four: Winter Solstice

Summary: Xavier spends winter break at the Addams manor and celebrates Winter Solstice for the first time. When night comes, the two of you take advantage of the timing to conduct a séance and call someone special

I got most of my Winter Solstice and Yule knowledge from the Chilling adventures of Sabrina…and picked some other lore around the internet/from the Krampus movie. I apologize if some things are wrong, please don’t come at me

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Snow was falling outside the living room window as you helped your mother decorating the tree, dusting the Addams manor’s property ground with a light coat of white. It was pretty to look at, but all winter reminded you of was the frostbites you got on your hands as a child. 

‘’We're delighted to have you with us for the Winter Solstice, Xavier,’’ Granny Frump said, a little too fond of your boyfriend. 

It was very kind of your parents to invite Xavier over for winter break. His father was too busy to take some time from his schedule to spend time with his son, which would have left him spending the holidays alone at the academy. 

‘’Faustine would be so proud of the young man you became. She was a psychic too. Predicted many famous deaths…even her own!’’ 

Xavier smiled at the gray haired woman, uncertain how to respond. His memories of his godmother were hazy, having only seen her three times in his life — one of them being in her casket at her funeral.

‘’Children, Mother, gather here,’’ your mother invited after you placed the last ornament, saving Xavier from an endless uncomfortable conversation with Granny Frump. ‘’It’s time to light the yule log.’’

Your father brought a box of matches and handed them to your mother as Pugsley and Wednesday came down the stairs, joining you all before the fireplace. 

‘’Have you ever celebrated the Winter Solstice, Xavier?’’ Morticia asked, a box of matches in hand.

He shook his head. Holidays were not really a thing at home. ‘’No, Mrs. Addams.’’ 

Your mother lit the match with a crack, and as the flame flickered, she elaborated on the basics of winter solstice and significance of the Yule log. ‘’Remember, the Yule log is not a decoration. It’s a protection. It must burn continuously from now through the shortest day through the longest night until dawn. Otherwise, Satan knows what malevolent forces might come down our chimney.’’

‘’Like Krampus!’’ Pugsley interjected, a shiver of terror crossing his face. 

You and Wednesday had read him the tale of Krampus a few years ago, which gave him nightmares for months. Thinking back, it hadn’t been very nice of you, but only you and Wednesday were allowed to torment Pugsley. 

‘’Krampus?’’ Xavier echoed, his eyebrows furrowed with confusion. He glanced at you, silently asking for an explanation, but before you could respond, your twin sister took the lead.

‘’He is a hairy creature with cloven hooves and horns like goats. His long, pointed tongue lolls out and he has fangs...to eat the children he captures on his night out. During the Winter Solstice, he walks around the streets with chains, looking for badly behaved children to tie to them and take to his den,’’ Wednesday explained, concluding her explanation with a dark toward Pugsley. 

Xavier's eyes widened with a mix of curiosity and unease at Wednesday's vivid description of Krampus. ‘’Sounds like quite the character,’’ he said, trying to lighten the mood.

You wrapped a hand around his upper arm. ‘’Worry not, mon amour, if the fire is burning, he cannot come in,’’ you added in reassurance, providing a detail that Wednesday had conveniently omitted. 

‘’Children, that’s enough,’’ your mother intervened, her voice cutting through the tension. She stepped closer to the fireplace and successfully ignited the Yule log, the flames casted a warm glow across the living room. ‘’And now, the Solstice blessing.’’ 

Once the house was quiet and asleep, Xavier met you in your bedroom. The manor’s creaking wood floors were an easy betrayal so he had to be careful to not step on the wrong floor board. If your parents knew what you were up to, they would be livid.

‘’Did you bring it?’’ you whispered in the dimly lit space. 

Xavier reached through the collar of his shirt and retrieved a silver chain with a dainty ring looped through it: his mother’s ring. 

During the Winter Solstice, the veil between this world and the next is at its thinnest, making it the perfect time to conduct a séance. But beware, the thinness of this veil carried its own danger, which was why it was very important to keep the Yule log burning throughout the whole séance. If the fire were to die, any malicious spirits could seize the opportunity to slip through the transient gap and come to this world, to your chimney. 

You sat around the table you had prepared before Xavier’s arrival with an array of candles, a chalk-drawn pentagram and matches. ‘’You seem nervous, mon amour?’’ 

‘’I’m about to speak to my mother…who died seven years ago,’’ he said, his fingers fidgeting with the silver chain. ‘’This is surreal.’’ 

Despite your many shopping trips to Jericho, you had been unsuccessful to find something to give him. Nothing material felt right. He could buy himself anything he wanted with his father’s money. So you decided to give Xavier something that had no price to his eyes — a chance to speak to his mom again.  

‘’Are you sure it's safe?’’ Xavier asked, watching you light the lasts of the candles. 

‘’My mother’s side of the family has been doing this for generations, witchcraft is in our blood. I’ve been assisting my mother during her séances since I was three years old. I know what I’m doing.’’ You glanced at him over the candles. ‘’As long as Thing is keeping the Yule log burning, everything should be fine. Hand me the ring?’’ 

Xavier slipped the ring off the chain and placed it in the palm of your open hand, your fingers brushing against his. With care, you placed it in the middle of the table and began. 

‘’Hands facing down the table, pinkies touching,’’ you instructed, closing your eyes. ‘’Focus your energy. Send it to the table. If your mother is here, she may speak herself or through me or some combination.’’

Xavier nodded although you couldn’t see him.  

‘’Spirits below and above. Spirits in between, causing in the fabric betwixt worlds. We ask that the veil be lifted and you send forth the spirit of Delphine Thorpe. Delphine, you are welcome to this house, to the circle. If you’re here we ask that you make your presence known.’’

A sudden gust of wind blew into the room although no windows were open, sending a chill down your spine. 

Having felt it too, Xavier looked at you, his green eyes both excited and nervous. He looked around, careful to not rupture your pinkies on the table. 

A soft smile drew on your lips, the whisper of a woman’s voice echoing in your head. ‘’She said she’s here.’’ 

—

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully  @aerangi  @hallecarey1  @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @grxnde-dwt @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis@Shasta89 @sierraluvz @specialk6802 @CZARINERA @katherinejess

[melodygatesauthor]

Chapter 1: The Awakening

prof!Steven Grant-Jake Lockley-Marc Spector X f!Reader

Edited by: @welcometostayingawake (she's the real MVP)

Mood Boards - Book Cover - Masterlist

Summary:

Doctor Steven Grant accepted a job as a professor at a prestigious college in New England. While you're on your way to your first history class in your second semester of your junior year, you run into an attractive English man at the coffee shop. The two of you hit it off, and since you're both headed in the same direction upon leaving, you decide to walk together. You're both excited to have met someone you have clear chemistry with right off the bat until...you realize that you both were headed to the same building, and that he's your new history professor.

When you discover that there's even more to this man than meets the eye, things get even more complicated than you could've imagined. Loving one man who's almost twice your age in a place where your relationship is forbidden is hard enough, nevermind three.

Chapter Summary:

It's your first day of class, and you meet a nice guy at the coffee shop on your way in. Too bad when you find out he's just out of reach.

Tags/Summary (these are for the ENTIRE fic):

college AU, no powers/not in MCU/no Khonshu, talk of mental illness, Marc has DID, forbidden relationship, age gap, reader is 21y/o, Boys are 38y/o, reader attends college in America but isn't necessarily American, smut, sex, masturbation, p in v, creampies galore, reader is on birth control, dubious consent due to identity issues, ANGST, romance, fluff and smut, oral sex, falling in love, reader is not race coded.

Word Count: 3.8k

It was the first day of the semester and you were already looking forward to it being over. With the holidays out of the way, you should be feeling refreshed and ready for the second half of your junior year, but when the sun beat through your dorm room and directly into your eyes, in combination with your screeching alarm, you wanted nothing more than to stay in bed. Your roommate was stirring on the other side of the room in her own bed, and you were sure she felt the same.

Coming back from winter break was never easy. You had to get used to a new schedule, and leave behind the laziness of gorging on food and festivities with your family. You picked up your phone and turned off the alarm with a groan before flopping back over on the mattress. It was only 7:15am.

Layla grumbled into her pillow. “I don’t want to go.”

“Yeah, me neither.” You agreed, throwing your blanket off in a huff.

“What class do you have first?”

“History with… Dr. Grant, I think.” You rolled your eyes.

“Oh, he’s the new professor who came over from England I think.” She sighed and got out of bed.

Her dark curls were a mess and bouncing all around her as she walked over to the small mirror in the wardrobe and picked something out of her teeth. You remembered hearing there was a new professor for this history course after the last one got kicked out for having inappropriate relations with a student, but you had forgotten the name of the replacement until now. History wasn’t really your strong suit anyway.

“My parents told me I have to ask him for tutoring.” You said, picking some clothes out of your drawer. “I flunked last year.”

“I remember.” She said with a hair elastic in her teeth while she pulled her curls back into a messy bun.

You got yourself dressed, put a little makeup on and finished getting ready. The air outside was chilly, and you pulled your coat tightly over yourself. You stopped in at Moonbean Coffee to get your usual pick-me-up before your first class. One of the perks of an open campus was the luxury of grabbing a real coffee before spending hours in a lecture.

The line in front of you was fortunately short, only one person stood between you and the barista. You noticed the man in front of you fumbling around in the pockets of his gray jacket. He let out a sound in frustration.

“Bollocks.” He said under his breath, patting himself down. “I think I left my wallet…”

He looked panicked, and you felt bad, having been in that position before. You decided it was time to do your good samaritan act of the day and you pulled your own wallet out of your bag.

“Here.” You reached around the man and handed the woman at the register a bill.

The man turned to you and his lips curled into a big smile. His tired eyes looked you up and down. You took note of his disheveled appearance. He clearly needed his drink as badly as you did.

“Oh! You don’t have to do that, I’m just-erm…I don’t have to have it.” He said, clearly anxious from your kind gesture. You took note of his thick English accent.

You shrugged and smiled at him comfortingly, “I’d die without my morning coffee. Don’t worry about it.”

“Good morning…” the barista said your name.

“Morning, T.” You said as she got started on your usual drink.

The man still stood there to the side. “That really was very kind of you. Very sweet.” He sipped the cup. “Oh bugger.” He cursed. “That’s hot.” A small chuckle escaped him.

You giggled. “Don’t mention it. I’ve been there, done that.”

His gaze lingered on you, lips still curled in a cheeky grin. He gasped when his wrist buzzed. He looked at it quickly.

“Oh, I really have to get goin’. You come here often, yeah?” He asked, looking at you eagerly.

“Y-yeah, I do.” T handed you your coffee as you handed her another bill and told her to keep the change.

Following him to the door, he opened it for you, letting you out first before exiting as well.

“Good, maybe I’ll catch you another time then, I’ll getcha back.” He nodded. “Alright then. Bye!”

“Yeah, sounds good!” You smiled foolishly at him, “bye.” You waved before realizing he was walking the same direction you were going.

He let out a laugh as you kept pace with him. “Well of course we’re walkin’ the same way. That’s not awkward at all.”

You chuckled, “Well, you can make it up to me now then, walking alone can be boring.”

When you saw the way he looked at you, your stomach fluttered. You’d seen that look before. He was interested in you. The man was clearly older than you, but you didn’t care. He was good looking, and judging by his messy curls, gentle gaze and overall demeanor, he was just your type.

“Alright sure, yeah, I can do that.” He said eagerly.

You introduced yourself. “…what’s your name?”

“Oh, name’s Steven, with a V.”

The two of you started walking in the direction of the building your class would be held in.

“So, Steven, clearly you’re not from around here, what brings you to a small college city like this?” You sipped your warm drink while the two of you walked through the chilly September air, not wanting to rush.

“Well, a job, actually.” He sipped from his cup, too, this time not flinching at the temperature.

“Oh, what do you do for work?” You asked, realizing you were approaching the brick building where your class was held all too quickly. You wished it was just a little further so you could get just another moment with Steven.

He stopped in front of the building, as if he knew you were stopping there before you told him your destination.

“I’m a history professor. This is my stop actually! Sorry, not a long walking partner.” His friendly and naive smile was about to fade when he realized the awful irony of the situation you were both in.

It hit you like a truck, “a-are you…Dr. Grant?” You asked, brows stitched together as your heart dropped into your stomach.

It made sense now: the English accent, out of place in a New England college city, the messy hair, the messenger bag and binder of notes that you just then took notice of. It should’ve been obvious from the moment you met him, everything about his appearance screamed ‘college professor’.

For some reason, this felt awkward. It was obvious just in the short time you’d known this man that you both were somewhat attracted to one another. Not that it was serious, of course, but there was an undeniable flirtatious air surrounding the whole encounter. The way he looked at you, and the way you looked at him, sharing timid smiles between promises of coffee, it was plain as day.

Now, he was shifting awkwardly in front of you as you were tapping the paper cup in your hand deep in thought. There was nothing wrong with buying your new professor a cup of coffee when he forgot his wallet, and there was nothing wrong with your new professor walking his student to class. You were both walking the same way anyway.

“Erm…yeah, yup.” You could see him trying to shake off the fog, the fantasy you both had entertained for the two minute walk.

“Well, that’s so ironic.” You tried to push past it, hoping it would help diffuse the new tension. “I’m in your class.”

He nodded despondently, his dark circled eyes looking to the ground to avoid your gaze. He hastily opened the door for you, and you thanked him as you walked in. You were stiff as a board as you made your way inside the classroom. Even though there was really nothing wrong with the interaction you’d had, something felt maddeningly nerve wracking about the whole situation.

You took a seat somewhere in the middle next to someone you remembered seeing around in other classes last semester, but never remembered her name. You hoped Dr. Grant would take you sitting in the middle table as a way of saying, “that whole interaction was totally normal, not awkward at all, see? I’m sitting in the middle instead of all the way in the back corner to avoid you.” You silently hoped the message translated.

You pulled your laptop out of your bag. You opened it and peered over the top. Dr. Grant’s eyes were stuck on you for a second while he shuffled the papers on his desk before he nervously looked away and sat down. 

You tried to look at anything other than him, but you couldn’t help stealing glances at him over the top of your screen. He put his laptop on his desk and opened it. You watched him inconspicuously as he put his jacket around the back of his chair and he pulled out a pair of glasses, placing them on his face. They made him look older, but you didn’t think it made him any less attractive. In fact, you liked the way they looked. You quickly shook the thought from your head.

You need to stop this, you’re acting ridiculous, you told yourself.

“Alright, well.” He stood up, let out a deep exhale, and put the glasses back on the table. The final students were trickling in. “I’m Dr. Grant, but you can all call me Steven. Dr. Grant is a bit formal, innit?” He chuckled, but the rest of the class remained silent. “Alright.” He rubbed his hands together nervously.

You felt bad, seeing him clearly trying to connect with the uncaring class. He messed idly with his dark blue tie before patting it down and clearing his throat.

“Well, I won’t start us off with anything too flashy today. It is the first day after all.” He began.

The lecture was a couple of hours, but Dr. Grant made it feel like it was much shorter than that. He was like a completely different person than the anxious man you’d met at the cafe. He was excited, smiling and full of energy while he taught the first lesson. To see someone so passionate about something sparked excitement and admiration inside you, even if the subject itself wasn’t your strong suit.

The amount of times he said, ‘I mean, wow’, was surprising and more than a little endearing. He certainly had a way of making a topic that you weren’t very adept in much more interesting just from his own enthusiasm. As he was wrapping up the lecture, you checked the clock. 10:20am. Your next class wasn’t until 1:00pm, leaving you plenty of time to talk to him about tutoring. Only tutoring, you reminded yourself.

You felt anxious though, standing there after the last student left. You clutched your satchel to your side like your life depended on it. He didn’t notice you at first, because you’d started to walk away with the crowd, trying to decide if you were even going to ask him to tutor you or not, but then you remembered your father’s words. I’m not paying for you to waste your time in school, you already picked a meaningless major, the least you can do is get decent grades.

You stepped up to his desk and cleared your throat. He peered up over his reading glasses and jumped when he saw you.

“Oh, erm, hi, class is dismissed.” He said anxiously, so different from the person speaking with utmost confidence to fifty or more students just a few minutes ago.

“Yeah, I know,” you started, “I know, I just needed to talk to you about something.”

He started getting nervous, you could see sweat beading on his forehead above his strong eyebrows. If someone asked you why you were so anxious about asking your new history professor to tutor you, you’d tell them you had no idea, but deep down you knew it was because the two of you definitely had a weird connection at the coffee shop.

“Oh, is this about…it’s about the coffee, yeah? I really-”

“N-no, Dr. Grant-“

“Steven.” He corrected you.

“S-Steven.” You cleared your throat once again. “No, I’m, uh, I’m not worried about the coffee. I need to ask for tutoring.”

He pressed a hand to his chest in relief, “Oh, heh, right, yeah, ‘course.” A large smile on his face. 

He felt the connection, too, you thought, and he’s relieved you didn’t bring it up.

“Well, there’s plenty of other students around who do that, yeah? Maybe go to the library, I think that’s where you sign up for something like that.” You didn’t know what it was about this man that captivated you, but when his eyes locked on to yours you felt your stomach twist in yearning.

“Um…yeah.” You were wearing a faint smile while accepting his rejection. “Yeah, I guess I can try that. They didn’t have anyone last semester, but maybe they will this time. Thanks.”

It was probably for the best that he didn’t tutor you, judging by his reaction, and that’s not even considering if the connection was real and you hadn’t just made it up. You gave him a friendly nod and turned on your heel toward the exit. Just as you were grabbing the door handle, Steven spoke up.

“Wait, hold on.” He said, standing up. You turned to him. “They probably aren’t very good anyway, the students they have tutoring. Why don’t you come by after your last class on Wednesday? Not sure why time you get finished, but I can make something work.”

“M-my last class on Wednesday gets over at like seven.” You explained.

He shrugged, “M’sure my goldfish will be alright if I get home a bit later than usual.”

“Wow, okay, brilliant, yes Dr. G-uh-Steven!” You couldn’t contain your toothy grin as you thanked him profusely and left.

You felt like you were in a trance for the rest of the day. You’d thought that by not having Steven in your direct line of sight you’d be able to move on from the feeling in your gut, but it only festered. He was occupying your mind. The way he laughed, the way he talked, the way he looked at you, it was maddening.

You kept thinking about his messy hair, wondering what it would feel like to run your fingers through it. When he got nervous just from looking at you, straightening his tie, you wondered what it would look like to have him loosening it, maybe unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt. His eyes are what really captivated you, he looked exhausted, but they still shined so brightly when he looked at you, before he’d realized that you were his student.

When you got back to your dorm and turned in for the night, you took it upon yourself to look up your college’s specific rules around student and teacher relationships. Even though the last history professor got fired, you were trying to convince yourself now that there had to be a different reason. There just had to be.

There wasn’t a different reason though. The rules were plain as day: student and professor relationships were a no go. No one seemed to care what happened when you graduated, but until then, it was strictly forbidden. There was even talk in some resources you found about the student being expelled since they are, after all, a consenting adult who knew the consequences of their actions.

With that, it was time to lay your growing need to put yourself in Steven’s presence as much as possible to rest. At least, you wanted to. You couldn’t though, while you lay there in the dark, with Layla snoring on the other side of the room. You couldn’t stop thinking about the way he looked you up and down, his hooded eyes drinking you in, the way he exuded confidence to the class, and then became shy around you immediately after. 

Your hand trailed down under your pajama bottoms to your already soaking folds, slick with your desire to know what else Steven was proficient in. You thought about his hands around the coffee cup earlier, how big they looked, veins rippling under the skin when he brought the cup to his lips. You wondered what they felt like, what one of his thick fingers would feel like inside of you. Slipping one of your own fingers inside wasn’t enough, you wanted more, you wanted to feel him.

You wished that you could fit a second finger inside, but it was too tight. You felt hot with need as you pumped in and out of your slick hole, imagining Steven hovering over you. He would tell you how wrong it was to be doing what you were doing as he trailed his hands up your ribcage and to your breasts. Would he moan loudly when he came, or would he be quiet but breathy, pressing his face into the nape of your neck to muffle his sound?

You didn’t know much about sex, not outside of porn that is. You’d done other things before. You’d tried going down on someone, but had a hard time figuring out how to do it right, at least according to the guy you were with. He had tried eating you out, but you found it was either very overrated, or he was really bad at it.

Thinking about those things made you wonder what Dr. Grant’s cock tasted like, or what it felt like. If you couldn’t even fit two fingers, you weren’t sure how you were going to manage to take him. Just thinking about it was making your arousal become unbearable. You needed him, badly, no matter how wrong you knew it was.

You could hardly take it, feeling your orgasm approaching as you fingered yourself to thoughts of your history professor. You decided you didn’t really care what he sounded like when he came, you just ached to hear him. It almost hurt how hard you bit your lip when your cunt clamped in waves over your lone digit. Your breathing was heavy, and when you felt clarity once more, you fell back onto your pillow. You had to let it go, you had to get over him somehow.

But Steven had to get over you, too. 

When he got home that night after a long day of classes, he found himself standing in front of his mirror. It had been so long since he’d heard their voices. At least a couple of months. They said they wouldn’t come back, they said they would stay in the headspace, and that they wouldn’t say a word. They hadn’t said anything specific yet, but he could hear them becoming more active since that morning.

That wasn’t the only thing bothering him, the thought of you danced in his mind. You were there, causing his heart to race; causing him to feel a pang of guilt that was vastly outweighed by the arousal building behind his zipper. He had been fighting the pressure all day, fighting the heady thoughts. Steven liked to think he was mentally stronger than the primal desires that came with sex, but just seeing you in that coffee shop that morning, and the way you looked at him, it kept playing in his head over and over again like a movie.

It got to a point that he couldn’t bear the ache any longer. He took off his pants and boxer-briefs, freeing his weeping erection. He crawled into bed, not even bothering to remove his jacket or shirt, as he was too eager. Nothing had inspired him to relieve himself like this in a long, long time. He crawled into bed and laid down on his back, taking his cock into his closed fist.

Dry…s’dry, need some…

He leaned up, spitting a glob of saliva into his palm before going back to work on himself. He gripped his length, sliding over it with his fist much easier now, tossing his head back as he reached the tip. He ran his hand through his curls to get them out of his face, looking down at his cock while he thrust upward into his fingers.

“F-fu…” He said, trembling slightly.

He kept thinking about you, your hair, your sweet lips, the way you giggled when he burned himself on his hot coffee that morning. He whined, reaching down to grab the sheet at his side. He exhaled sharply, continuing to glide into his palm smoothly, increasing speed as he got even closer. The way your face lit up when he agreed to tutor you was etched into his memory.

So young, though…he thought, too young…

It didn’t stop him from bringing his hand back to his mouth, adding more saliva to continue jerking his length. He was putting his hips into it now, imagining what it would be like to have you, just for a second he let himself go there in his mind. He thought about having you on top of him, legs on either side of his hips. You, lowering yourself over his cock, taking him all the way to the hilt. Another whine escaped him. You were so pretty, he imagined looking up at you, maybe you’d bite your lip and throw your head back with a moan. Maybe you’d grab your breast, pinching the nipple, maybe you’d tell him how good he felt inside of you. That’s all it took. He filled the apartment with his moans as he coated his fingers and abdomen in hot sticky cum.

Steven’s brain was empty, other than thoughts of you that still plagued him. He’d hoped that by doing this, it would help him let it go, but now he wished you were there for different reasons. You were so bubbly and full of energy. He wanted to talk to you, he wanted to learn more about you, get to know what else makes you laugh.

With a heavy sigh, Steven slid off the bed, careful to keep his cum coated fingers from touching anything. He turned on the light in the bathroom and started rinsing his hands in the sink, finishing and grabbing a towel. When he started drying his hands, his eyes looked up into the mirror again. 

His heart stopped. He waved at himself, checking to make sure his reflection kept up. They said they weren’t coming back…

Next Chapter

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RUMOR HAS IT (pt. 11)

(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: post business cocktail

Disclaimer: Isobel is an OC, 18+

Table of Contents:

PART TEN

Isobel hadn’t expected the various changes that came with exploring a relationship with Drew, but one thing in particular that stood out was how things had abruptly shifted the dynamic she had with Chandler. His stutter that he’d randomly developed when he was around her two summers ago seemed to have vanished under the impression that she was now with Drew.

The way he was now addressing her was with a boldness that came off as him having the ego boost of someone who’d figured out a secret they shouldn’t have. Isobel knew Chandler would never hold it over her head, but she wasn’t sure if he would use the forbidden knowledge against his older brother.

He loosely promised her he would keep what he knew a secret, and for some reason she trusted him to keep his word. Him finding out wasn’t ideal, but the aftermath wasn’t as bad as the outcome she conjured in her head. It was actually nice having someone know about her and Drew and accepting it for what it was. It was a sense a relief, that same feeling she was hoping to feel when she tried to confide in Charlotte at the party a few nights ago.

But it was different with Chandler—he was family and his opinion resonated with her more than that of a friend, just like her mother or father’s would. It gave her hope for those next steps, if she ever got the courage to tell her parents—or if she ever allowed herself to feel something for Drew that was worth sharing with the people she loved.

Being home for holidays was sort of putting a roadblock on the progression of their relationship. They were were obviously trying not be physical with each other, but the fact that they would be in the same residences majority of the break forced Drew’s attention to remain solely on her—there were no distractions.The pessimistic side of her wondered if they were still at school if he would’ve been entertaining another girl by now. And then there was the naive side of her that possessed her right mind when she was around him or got the chance to feel his lips pressed desperately against her own, that had her feeling content with having Drew to herself for the time being—because never did she ever allow herself to hope for a future.

Until now.

In the small instances where she imagined telling her mother about what was going on with Drew, or how she swooned when she saw the qualities that made her cherish her father and Charles so deeply embedded deep in his character. She let herself hope in those little moments.

Standing across from a guy she just met at the hands of her calculating mother, she wished in this moment she could scream at the top of her lungs that she didn’t need be introduced to another business associate’s son because she had someone already—she had Drew.

That’s all she could think of as her eyes settled on “Zachary but you can call me Zach” as they stood at one of the little tables at the company’s winter business cocktail. She studied his face, but all she could think of was Drew’s ocean blue eyes that sometimes looked green depending on the light. She sized him up and noted how she didn’t have to crane her neck to look up at him like she did with Drew. Zach lacked everything she found endearing about Drew, it made her appreciate the little things about him even more.

Zach was rambling on about Fortune 500, and from the minor slurring she’d caught in his speech she figured he’d been indulging in the open bar and complimentary champagne this evening. She listened for as long as she possibly could before the feeling of eyes settled on her claimed her attention as she looked to her right just for her eyes to immediately land on Drew’s pointed stare. He looked bothered, she could tell by the deep crease in the center of his eyebrows, and the frown edged on his lips. Isobel gave him a subtle smile, but his face remained stoic. Every part of her in entirety was desperate to go to him to place her hands on his face and melt the tension from his features.

She wasn’t aware of how long she’d been looking over at him but she did notice when his eyes shifted as if he was looking through her and suddenly her line of sight was being blocked by Zach’s sliding over around the table to move closer, “Dance with me, Isabella.” He requested as his breathe immediately burned her nostrils from the crude scent of alcohol.

“No, I’m fine thanks.” Isobel decided to ignore the fact the he’d referred to her as Isabella, so the situation didn’t get prolonged more than it needed to be. She wanted to be anywhere but over here, not only because she was uninterested, but being around a wasted man while she was sober was just no fun at all.

She could tell he was not expecting her answer from the way he harshly blinked his eyes, he looked like the kind of person who didn’t often face rejection. He quickly recovered with a lazy smile then leaned his body towards her. The feeling of his hand appearing on the back of her elbow burned her skin as he slid his finger down until he was loosely grasping her arm, “Come on let’s have some fun.”

“Did you not hear me I said no-“ he didn’t even let her finish the sentence before his grip tightened around her forearm.

Her heart began to race in panic, but she let him slightly pull her towards him, giving him a false sense of her compliance and immediately forced her arm out of his bruising hold. She was now free from his restraints but fear that he would try something else had her looking for someone who could intervene and her eyes went straight to Drew. A bit of relief washed over her when she saw him stalking over, but her breathe hitched at him storming towards her one second and Charles stopping his pursuit the next.

Just as that relief was about to leave her again, her father’s large build slicing through the crowd toward Zach kept her calm. She gasped when Richard Cooper shoved him away from her and the general vicinity of the table. Her father was a muscular guy so the little shove practically sent him flying across the room. Richard didn’t give him another second of his attention before signaling for security, and pulling her into his arms. There she felt utterly safe like nothing could ever happen to her. It was what she was anticipating to feel when it was initially Drew coming for her.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Her father’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts as he scanned her from head to toe in concern.

Her eyes followed the security pulling Zach out of the building while his mother shouted expletives at him as she trailed behind them. It was when the door shut that her body finally allowed herself to actually breathe, “I’m fine.”

Her mother appeared just as she answered him with worry etched onto her face, and immediately grabbed Isobel and pulled her into her embrace before giving her a once over just as her father did. Everyone seemed to be minding their business for the most part. Only the guest in the general area that saw her father diffuse the situation were pathetically pretending not to eavesdrop.

“I’m so sorry I let you go off with him, Isobel, his mother was just begging me all night to introduce you two.” Her mother’s voice was strained, she could literally hear how it pained her to realize she potentially sent her into harms way. It made Isobel hate the asshole even more for making her think such a thing. “You have nothing to apologize about, Mom, I promise you I’m okay now.” She reassured.

Lora gave her a weak unconvincing smile then pulled her back in to squeeze her into one of those soul crushing hugs. Her back was facing everyone while in her mother’s arms, but she could feel Drew’s presence when he walked up to them, the familiar feeling of his eyes piercing into her made the hairs on her arms stand in attention. Isobel attempted pulled out of Lora’s embrace, but she only allowed her to stand at her aside as she kept her arms locked around her waist.

Drew was already looking at her when she looked towards him, his eyes seemed to be darting all over her body, standing silently beside Charles.

“I’m never letting another man near my daughter again, you hear me, Lora? Tell those desperate ass women we are not interested in a son-in-law moving forward.” Isobel knew her father was partially joking, but his words hit a nerve.

Charles smiled in obvious agreement with his friend, but to her surprise Drew never reacted to her father inadvertently denouncing him as her potential husband, he looked stiff like he was using all his restraint to hold himself back, his eyes being the only thing that was moving freely.

“For once I can agree with you on the matter.” Lora gave her another squeeze before reluctantly letting her go. Every one hummed in agreement, and Isobel couldn’t help but squint her eyes at Chandler who was obviously amused by her father’s proclamation as he discreetly jabbed an elbow into his brother’s side to which Drew ignored.

“-Are you sure you’re okay, Isobel?” Drew’s words were rushed as they escaped from his lips. He tried his best to stand there quietly, to pretend like every inch of him wasn’t dying to go over to Isobel, wrap his arms around her, and make sure she was okay. Not just physically, but emotionally, he knew she tended to internalize what she was truly feeling and he needed to know that what just happened didn’t fuck with her head.

His question caused everyone’s eyes to snap to him before immediately going back to Isobel as they awaited her response. He’d been hesitant in asking with everyone standing here in fear of what would leave his lips with the adrenaline rushing through his body.

He didn’t care if she was going to be upset with him for his outburst. He could keep their physical relationship to himself, restrain himself from touching her when it’s all he could think about doing, but he couldn’t pretend he didn’t care about her not when that was something he’d been doing from first moment he laid his eyes on her.

“I’m fine I’m just kind of tired.” She smiled, with her mouth and eyes as he watched as they warmed before his own, he couldn’t help but wonder if anyone else saw it too—the gleam in her eyes. Once again it felt like they were the only ones present in the moment, one glance shared with her feeling like eternity when reality only seconds had passed.

“Drew take Isobel home and makes sure she gets there safely.” His father’s request caused his eyes to leave Isobel for what felt like the first time tonight since she arrived. He didn’t know what to think of his father’s behavior tonight, in the beginning the man was staring daggers at him across the room, and now he was being supportive? Drew wasn’t sure of what exactly, but he felt a reassuring energy coming from him.

Charles had stopped him from potentially killing a man for touching Isobel, and for an intuitive man like his father, that could be enough to confirm any conjectures he’d formed about Isobel and Drew when they returned home yesterday.

“That’s a good idea, do you want any of us to come with you?” Isobel’s mother asked, he still could see the terror in her eyes. When everything was going down and she ran up to him and Charles’ scrambling to find her daughter it only added to his anger and desperation to get to her.

“No, I’m fine you guys stay here and enjoy the cocktail.” Isobel insisted before giving both of her parents a hug and walking over to slip beside Drew.

His body routinely reacted as it always did to the feeling of her next to him, the hairs on his arm stood erect, his side warming like they were two magnets pulling towards each other. Richard, Charles, Cooper, Lora, and Catherine were talking while Chandler was absorbing every word—the younger Starkey enjoyed gossip just as much as their mother. Drew didn’t hear a word they were saying, he couldn’t when Isobel’s arm was grazing his side. God he wanted to grab her waist and just hold her but he refrained.

Then he felt a tickle on his knuckle and looked down to see her blindly curling her pinky around his larger one. That simple touch alone made it feel like his heart was going to pound out of his chest as it filled with an inexplicable feeling. It was so minuscule, but that lock of their fingers represented how they made each other feel, the part of them they were hiding from everyone. And Isobel reaching out to him in that way, no matter how discreetly in front of their families, was comparable to how a quick peck from her on his lips could make him feel—content yet desperate for more.

“You ready to go?” He asked loud enough to to gain everyone’s attention again.

Isobel nodded her head and let his pinky go, ready to get out of there and just contemplate her feelings under her shower head. She giggled to herself as Chandler insisted he leave with them. She could tell Drew was annoyed with his little brother tagging along just from his left eye twitching, but he didn’t protest, “You guys are doing a horrible job of being discreet by the way.” Chandler causally threw out as they walked out of the building.

“Wait, really?” She groaned, if her heart rate went up anymore tonight she was going to go into cardiac arrest. She knew she was giving more attention to Chandler’s implications about her and Drew being together, but at this point she didn’t have it in her to care.

“No, not really, I think I’m only noticing because I know what’s up with you two.” He grinned with pride, obviously still finding amusement at how worked up Isobel was about all of this.

“You don’t know shit, get in the car.” Drew mumbled and rolled his eyes as he unlocked the door for them.

This time last year she wouldn’t have expected any of this, they were all three as trio becoming closer and it was all because a split decision to let Drew ‘get a feel of his observations.’ The statement was corny looking back, but thinking of it made her chest warm.

Chandler did most of the talking as Drew drove towards her house which was about five minutes away from C&S, thankfully no one asked for details about what happened earlier during the ride, especially when she hadn’t even fully digested the whole thing herself. Isobel was the only one who entertained his rant about his parents not letting him have ‘at least one drink’ at events while Drew rubbed his temples with his pointer and middle finger at all the talking, she couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

It was hard trying to remain platonic with Drew after blurring so many lines with him, but sharing a car with two people she’d known for years made her appreciate the moments in between the lust when they were keeping their hands to themselves a little bit more. She could look back at this as a time where they were picking up where they left off as friends.

“Chandler, wait in the car while I walk Isobel up.” Drew said while pulling into her driveway. Seeing the empty garage and the barely lit house filled her body with dread at the view, she wanted him to stay with her.

Isobel stayed silent as she attempted to get out of his truck as gracefully as she could in a dress and heels but graciously took Drew’s hand when he finally came over to help her down. The feeling of the hand he used to grab her left hip and steady her body searing through the silk of her dress onto her skin, “Will you stay until my parents get home?”

Drew’s mouth slightly opened and then closed, a little taken aback by her question. But after what happened tonight he would do anything she asked to make her feel safe, even if it was risky.

“How about I take Chandler home first, and come back-“

“-No I don’t want you to leave.” It took a lot for Isobel to admit she needed someone, but despite her usual hesitancy the words left her mouth with ease.

One of his hands tightened into a fist, barely stopping himself from reaching up to comfort her. He loved this feeling, a girl showing her vulnerability, and him not wanting to run away, he’d never felt the need to stay before, “Just go upstairs I’ll be right up behind you.”

Isobel sighed and gave him a squint letting him know she was expecting him to do exactly as he said before punching in the code to the house and slipping behind the wooden door. It was his turn to sigh, now facing his brand new truck he was about let his imbecile of a brother drive home without his supervision.

“Chandler, the keys are in the middle console go ahead and drive yourself home.” Drew grumbled.

The last thing he wanted was for the eighteen year old to be behind the wheel of his baby, but when it came to Isobel he’d let his little brother drive it across the country. Chandler jumped at the opportunity, choosing to access the driver seat by crawling up from the backseat which was no easy feat for a boy with his height but he managed, “Wipe that look off your face I’ll get it home safely, you can go in there and tussle tongues with your girlfriend.”

Drew didn’t bother to respond, slamming the truck door in his face and making his way back up the pathway to front door. Just as he entered the house and was turning to shut the door his entire body cringed at the sound of Chandler revving his engine.

He was in the same position as earlier, the house empty and Isobel just a staircase away, and his eagerness to see her hadn’t waned in the slightest. She wasn’t in her room when he walked in, but he could hear her humming behind her bathroom door. The warm vanilla scent escaping from the cracks of the enclosed area telling him she’d was in the shower, so he waited for her. Drew felt like he could wait on her forever in any given circumstance, but waiting on her to finish showering as the sound of her melodic voice filled his ears was becoming his favorite—he was the only one who got to witness this side of her.

He sat on the seat in front of her vanity, her sweet humming relaxing him to the point where he could have dozed off. And then the door swung open and there she was clad in an oversized t-shirt and just like that night in her apartment a few days ago he couldn’t tell if she was wearing bottoms or not. He loved every inch of her body, so even just getting a glimpse of her legs made his stomach flutter—it was pathetic how hooked he was on her. As if him suddenly realizing all she had to offer so late into knowing her made every glance thereafter knock the breathe out of him.

“You look adorable.” Drew smirked as he stood up and reached to flick the fluffy pink headband she had holding her long, dark hair back. She rolled her plump lips together like she was embarrassed and his heart skipped. “Thank you, Drew, take your jacket off.” She demanded, walking up to him then sliding her hands into the inside of his suit jacket and helping him push the sleeves down his muscular arms with his tinted blue eyes looking down on her. She walked away from him to to hang it on a hook that was attached to the back of the closet but the smell of her remained.

Isobel wanted to jump Drew, to thrust herself into his big arms, but she didn’t. The girl just put his jacket elsewhere and turned to make her way towards her bed. She sat there and just swept her eyes down his body for a moment just to take in how good he looked in a button up and slacks. Drew looked sexy, he looked like a man and it was times like this, including the fact that he was a close family friend, that she couldn’t believe they were involved, “Come lay down with me, please?”

Drew had been the practical one out of the two when it came to them following her rules she set for them, so she made sure to bat her eyes when she asked. Isobel had some self-control, she didn’t have anything sexual in mind, she just wanted to feel him against her.

“I can’t take all this shit off just to get into bed with you, Izzy, we don’t know how much time we have.” Drew stated, referring to his formal wear he still had on from the cocktail.

She couldn’t help but smile at him remembering how anal she was about germs from clothes getting on her comforter.

“Well just don’t worry about it, I’ll wash my bedding tomorrow,” She rolled her eyes when he raised his eyebrows in shock, Isobel wanted him in her bed and she wasn’t about to let anything get in the way of that not even the fact that they were in her parent’s house, “I just want to be with you right now.”

He didn’t argue as he moved to slip off his shoes before crawling into bed with her. He rested his weight on his arm and leaned over so he was looking down at her face. The lights were dimmed, so he couldn’t make out any of the brown specks he usually saw in her eyes, but they still gleamed from the moonlight streaming in.

“I let Chandler drive the truck home.”

“-What? Wait I didn’t even think of the fact that he probably wanted to go home, I thought he would just stay.” Isobel said as instant regret filled her at her insistence that he didn’t leave her alone. Drew had only had that truck a few weeks, and now he had someone whose driving was sub par at best driving it because of her.

Isobel could do this whole thing with Drew, she could have an intimate relationship with him with no strings, but she didn’t want to be an emotional nuisance. She tried to keep things surface, drawing the line at anything that wasn’t just for physical satisfaction, but what she needed from him tonight was comfort and when he did that for her she couldn’t help that her heart warmed in reaction.

“You have nothing to feel bad about, some guy put his hands on you and you said you wanted me here so I’m here, Isobel.” He said her name with finality as if he was warning her not to argue, so she let it go, though fear of being an inconvenience was swallowing her up inside, “Tell me what happened, baby.”

Her entire body shuddered, if he called her that after every thing he asked from her she would be at his beck and call. She loved how deep Drew’s voice was and hearing him use that name for her in that grainy drawl was pleasuring to her ears.

“It was nothing really he was drunk, wanted to dance with me, and he didn’t like that I declined.” She trailed off, trying to make sense of it in her head. It would be a perfect world if no one brought it up, if everyone just went on thinking she was invincible and strong, but Drew wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Don’t minimize it Isobel, just because he was drunk didn’t give him the right to grab your arm and fucking corner you.” Drew was irritated, she could see it in his eyes, hear it in the clipped tone of his voice as he stared deeply into her eyes. That crease was back between his eyebrows, and though she was right below him his eyes still darted up and down her face as if he couldn’t decide what part of her to focus on. “You didn’t deserve that tonight, I don’t see how anyone would ever want to hurt you, Is.”

“I know, I’m just glad you were there.”

His eyes dropped to Isobel’s lips when she gave him a grin, “You promise you’re okay?”

“Drew.” She groaned, dragging out his name, Isobel wasn’t used to anyone besides her mother and father being this concerned about her feelings or well-being, but she couldn’t definitively say that she hated it, “You don’t have to keep worrying—I’m fine, promise.”

Drew sighed as he tucked his face in her neck. He breathed her in, hearing her emit a giggle as his nose tickled the sensitive skin. God, Isobel was his favorite—favorite person, favorite smell, favorite everything—the thought felt rudimentary, but that was just him putting it in simple terms.

“I’m sorry I almost caused a scene earlier at the event.” Drew lamented after pulling away from her to look her in the eyes once more. It was all a blur, that moment from when he saw her struggling to get away from that man to when his father was holding him back. Charles had always been subliminally against the idea of Isobel and Drew coming together in any manner, but for once part of him was grateful for him in that particular moment.

Him intervening had somehow brought Isobel and Drew closer.

“You have nothing to apologize for, you’re not the one who grabbed me, Drew.” She comforted him, she hated that she was making him feel like he had to apologize for wanting to protect her.

“I know but I could’ve ruined everything for us—I was just so pissed off. No other man deserves to touch you, Isobel.”

No other man.

Isobel stayed quiet when he brought his hand up to cradle the side of her face, so he kept going.

“I know you’re not mine Isobel but let me think it for just this one night so I don’t go insane.” He sounded desperate but couldn’t find it in him to care, he was always hopeless when it came to her, sometimes it was just harder to mask.

Isobel softly pecked his lips, straining her neck to reach his mouth, and Drew pushed forward deepening the kiss so she wouldn’t break it. He loved when their kisses began like that, her teasing and him chasing her. His hand splayed across her rib cage causing her shirt to bunch under his rough touch. Kissing Isobel and hearing the sweet sighs of satisfaction leave her throat always made him feel like he needed to anchor onto something before he fell and that showed in the way his hands blindly fisted the fabric of her tee and the groans the tongueless kiss could pull from him.

“I’m yours, Drew.” Isobel mumbled as their lips continued to connect.

She’d been telling an abundance of lies as of late to protect what they had, but she wasn’t sure the one he’d just blatantly asked her to say was completely void of truth.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

PART TWELVE

[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

Light My Love - III - T.Nott

Series Summary - Follow Y/N as she navigated the wizarding world on her own, starting from her first year, all the way through to her seventh. As she falls in love and get her heart broken, how a certain friend is always there to mend her broken heart even though his is slowly getting broken in the process.

Chapter Summary - It's officially winter break, Theo stays at Hogwarts with Y/N and sticks by her side during a migraine attack. Theo and her godfather help take care of her, Theo spending the whole day with her and pulling an all-nighter together.

Pairings - Theo Nott x Fem!Reader(eventual)

IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST, LEAVE ME A COMMENT ON THIS POST!

Series Warnings - Blood purity, dark wizards, Reader is a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, pining, angst, reader will have some shitty boyfriends, Female Reader, use of Y/N

Chapter Warnings - Female Reader, use of Y/N, mentions of food and eating, rough parent-child relationship, migraine talk

Author's Note - Welcome to part 2 of this series! I will be creating a masterlist for this series after I post this so keep an eye out! I will link it when it's done!

Word Count - 1523

My full Masterlist

Series Masterlist

My requests are open!

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

Enjoy!

not my gif

not my gif

The Slytherin boys hadn’t mentioned the scar again until it was the day all of them were leaving to be with their families for the holidays. They had voted that Theo would be the one to ask since she trusted him the most out of the rest of them. That and he was also the only other one staying at Hogwarts for the holidays. 

There had been a huge party in the Slytherin common room the night before to celebrate the end of exams and the start of the holidays. All of them had drank a little too much, waking up with hangovers the next morning. Y/N was sitting in the great hall, her head buried in her arms to block out the light. She had woken up with a massive migraine that made her feel like her eyeballs were about to pop out of her skull. It didn’t help that the boys were extra loud that morning, her head throbbing at every loud laugh or shout of her friends.

“Are you okay?” Pansy asked her quietly.

“Migraine,” She mumbled back, her stomach becoming queasy with the pain.

“Can you guys quiet down please? Y/N has a migraine,” Pansy instructed the boys who immediately lowered the volume of their voices.

“Wanna go back to bed, principessa? I’ll go with you,” Theo offered her gently, running his fingers up and down her back. She gently nodded, throwing a half assed wave to the rest of their friends as Theo guided her back to the common room. 

Not even halfway there, her legs felt like they were going to give out, needing to stop for a moment and sit on the floor to rest her legs. “It’s a bad one, huh?”

“Really bad. My body feels so stiff and weak and my stomach is killing me,” She whined. He gave her another moment, helping to pull her up and back to guiding her to the common room. They were stopped, however, by Professor Snape. 

“What is going on here? Leaving breakfast so soon?” Snape asked the pair, the volume of his voice causing her to wince in pain, burying her head into Theo’s shoulder.

“She has a bad migraine so I’m escorting her back to the common room, professor,” Theo explained to the man. 

“Follow me, I have a potion that will help.”

“I don’t think she’ll be able to walk that far Professor. She had a hard time getting even here,” The boy added with concern. The hook-nosed professor solved that problem by picking the girl up and carrying her the whole way to his classroom and office. She had used the crook of the man’s neck to hide her eyes from not only the movement but the light.

There was a pair of students that had witnessed an act of kindness from the cold professor. Harry and Ron watched in awe as Snape carried the girl willingly so she wouldn’t have to walk the far distance. They had no idea that the man was capable of niceness, but then again, it was a member of his house and they believed that he tended to favor the Slytherin students more.

As Snape carried Y/N to his classroom and office, she felt safe, the comfort easing some of her pain. She had known Snape for most of her life, although nobody exactly knew that. Severus Snape was rather close with her father during their time together at Hogwarts, even becoming the girl’s godfather. He gently set her down on his desk chair once they entered his office, locating the potion he knew that would help her. He had been the one to create it after all, upon finding out that she had suffered from migraines at a young age. 

He held the vial of potion to her lips, tilting it gently so it would go in her mouth and made sure that she drank it all. “What potion is that, professor?” Theo asked curiously.

“I created this years ago, it was made especially for migraine attacks,” Snape replied dryly, watching as the look of relief overtook his goddaughter’s face. “How are you feeling, darling? Better?”

“Much better, Uncle Sev. Thank you,” She smiled softly at her uncle, getting out of the chair to hug him tightly. 

“Come to me next time you have a migraine. I have a full stock of the potion for you. Nott, you make sure if she has another, you either bring her right here or come get me. Understood?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good, now off you go. Head back to the common room, I left you a little gift in your spot, darling,” Snape smiled at the girl, her eyes lighting up and she hugged the man once more, placing a kiss on his cheek. 

“Thank you uncle Sev!” She squealed in delight.

“Happy early Christmas,” He chuckled as she pulled her friend out of the office.

She continued to pull him until they got to their spot in the common room. She was quick to notice a wrapped gift sitting by the window. She ripped the box open to reveal art supplies and a note.

My Darling Goddaughter,

I know your mother burned all of your art supplies so I figured you needed more. Happy Christmas

Love,

Uncle Sev

She squealed in excitement, tossing the note to Theo as she dug through to grab onto one of the many sketchbooks she was gifted and a sketching pencil. She had started sketching away as Theo read the note from Snape. He was shocked to see the fact that he was her godfather and he obviously had a deep care for the girl. Especially seeing as he had created a whole new potion just to help with her migraines. 

He had put the note back into the box and just watched as she sketched away on the blank paper. He watched as her tongue poked its way out of her mouth as she concentrated, leaning closer to the book as she focused more on whatever it was she was drawing. Theo tried to lean over to get a look but she was quick to cover the book with her arms.

“Not yet! I left a book I think you’d like under the chess table so nobody would touch it. It’s charmed to stick to the bottom of the table,” She explained to the boy to try to give him something to keep him busy. So he did as she said, finding the book, taking his place next to her and began reading. She was right, he was deeply enjoying the book, completely submerged in it. 

The two sat in their spot for hours, the day turned to night in what felt like a blink of an eye. As it approached midnight, they both realized that they were hungry and they hadn’t eaten all day. Deciding to sneak into the kitchens and ask the house elves for some food since they hadn’t had anything. 

On their way out of the common room and heading down to the kitchens, they ran into Peeves, both cursing for not noticing the obnoxious poltergeist. “Students out of bed! Students are breaking the rules!” The poltergeist shouted.

“Shut up, Peeves!” Y/N yelled back at the ghost. They heard footsteps approaching them, trying to find somewhere to hide quickly but failing.

“What are you two doing out of bed? It’s nearly midnight, you’re supposed to be sleeping,” Snape lectured the pair.

“We haven’t eaten all day, Uncle Sev. We just wanted to get food from the kitchens really quick and go back to the common room, I swear,” Y/N defended her and Theo to her uncle.

“Why haven’t you eaten?”

“I was drawing with the new stuff you got me and Theo was reading. Please Uncle Sev, we just want to get food and go to bed.”

“I will take you to the kitchens and then back to the common room to avoid this again.”

That’s exactly what he did, the professor took the two down to the kitchens, let them get food and then led them back to the Slytherin common room. The students thanked Snape as they entered the common room, sitting down on one of the couches and eating the food they had gotten from the house elves. Almost immediately after eating their food they had fallen asleep on the couch together. Leaning against one another, the plates of food scattered around them on the tables. 

Early in the morning, Snape had went into the Slytherin common room to make sure that the two students had found their way to bed. He was surprised to see that the pair had instead fallen asleep on the couch, Theo was layed down, Y/N sandwiched between the boy and the couch. Snape wasn’t very happy to see his precious goddaughter asleep with a boy but he was happy that she had found a great friend and someone who cared deeply about her. He covered the two of them with a blanket before leaving the common room with a small smile on his face.

Taglist:

@bigsimperika @melllinaa @chgrch @the-girl-who-simps-too-much @readingthingsonhere @ellen3101 @randomgurl2326

[egglain]

Nobara’s Dorm Life!

Aesthetic:

Had big!! plans for her room before coming to Jujutsu Tech (my Pintrest queen)

Tries to make her room look pretty (“clean girl”/classy style) but it gets messy often due to the sheer amount of random cute stuff she brings home

Her vanity is covered in makeup, perfumes, affirmation notes, and trinkets she bought on trips with the others

Habits:

Not an early riser, but picked up morning yoga with Maki

Loves to take polaroid pictures and hang them up above her bed (yes, she has one of those fairy light lattices)

(Most of the pictures are with her and Maki)

Loves to host “girls’ night” in her room— she convinces Maki to let her paint her nails and shit-talks the others (mostly Gojo)

So many sweet treats (she definitely takes after her teacher)

Hates cooking, so she appreciates when Maki makes food for them

The only time she sets foot in the guys’ dorm is if there’s food involved

Bought her and Maki matching Sanrio slippers because she despises the grimy dorm floors

Loves to do skincare with Maki, and buys them cute animal face masks

Detailed shower and skincare routine, which includes singing whatever song is stuck in her head

Wanted to participate in Yūji’s first movie night, but bailed after hearing the movie choice. Hasn’t gone since.

Frequent user of the group chat - always inviting people out, always trying to plan little trips

Loves shopping for/upcycling clothes & always tries to drag Yūji in (both because he has bad style & because Sukuna shreds through his shirts)

A low-key mom friend— will mend your clothes if you ask nicely

Furniture:

Decorates for the holidays, and organizes the dorm gift exchange during the winter break

Has too many pairs of shoes; her first investment was a shoerack

Bought a projector for her room to stream reality and romance shows (after bailing on Yūji’s movie night)

Keeps a tiny fridge on her desk so her water is always cold

So!! Many!! Cute!! Things!!

Plushie collector through & through— especially regional/festive plushies from their travels (and My Melody/Pompompurin)

[sheeple]

Miracles don't exist | 16: Mother knows best

Genre(s): Riddle!reader / Slytherin!reader / kinda slowburn / little happy moments Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Theodore Nott x Reader / Harry Potter x Riddle!reader Summary: Being the Dark Lord's daughter and raised under the strict supervision of the Malfoy's is no easy life. Especially if you start crushing on your father's arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. And that while being engaged to one of his follower’s sons. Warning(s): Puke / Panic attack / Talk about murder and torture [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Playlist]

The DA meeting back from the winter holiday brings the first real smile to your face since Christmas. Everybody's buzzing with energy and ready to learn new spells. 

At the point of practising the new defensive spell on your own, Hermione corners you. "Is it true?", she whispers, casting the defective charm on a target.

A hot flush shoots through your body. She couldn't possibly know about Theodore and you... right? "About what?" You try to keep it cool and cast another spell.

"About you and Harry... before Christmas?"

You feel your cheeks heating up and glance at Harry, who’s at the other end of the room helping Neville. Like he feels you watching, his head snaps up and your eyes meet. He sends you a wide smile before quickly looking back at Neville.

Hermione giggles and looks at you in glee. "How did it happen?"

Now your whole face is almost as hot as a fireplace. "We were discussing going home for Christmas and that I didn't want to go because..." You stop yourself just in time before you can reveal the location of Voldemort. "Because at home isn't the best atmosphere right now. And one thing led to the other and..." You trail off and twirl your wand in your hands, biting your bottom lip.

Hermione giggles again and clasps a hand over her mouth. "Did you enjoy it?"

"He's quite a good kisser, actually." The phantom feeling of Harry's warm hand slides from your cheek to your neck. Your hand reaches out and touches the spot. "What did he say about me?", you ask mildly panicked, the sudden realisation that Harry told something to Hermione — and possibly also Ron!

Your eyes flicker over the room and spot Ron. But he's busy laughing with his brothers to notice you. So Ron knows too? You know you shouldn't care what the boy's opinion is about you. But it hurt when someone calls you a Death Eater while you try your darndest to be anything except what your family expects you to be.

"Well", she begins with a head twitch, "he did tell us it was 'wet', but he said it was nice." Hermione stops to assess your reaction. "Ron made fun of his terible snogging. But he has the emotional range of a teaspoon, so he shouldn't talk."

A smile makes its way onto your face. So he did think it was nice. Good. Great even. Despite everything, you thought it was nice too. And at least you know that you're not too bad of a kisser. But then a face flashes across your face. The same that made you break up the kiss.

"What's wrong?"

You're not sure if you can even tell Hermione. Sure, you're friendly to each other. But are you friends? 

It's like she can sense your turmoil, she grabs your hand. "You can tell me anything." And she says it so sincerely, that you believe it.

You move to the side and wrap your arms around yourself. "I feel so guilty", you whisper. "I like Harry. And I liked the kiss. Really, I do. But…"

"Theodore Nott." Hermione gives you a sympathetic look.

You look with wide eyes towards her. "H-how?"

Hermione lays a comforting hand on your arm, her smile turning soft. "I see the way you look at him. With so much guilt in your eyes that it only means you care deeply for him. And he does the same when you're not looking. He has grown dull since the summer holiday. I don't know what happened between the two of you, but it's obviously hurting the both of you."

You blink at the wise words of the Gryffindor. Your eyes flick towards Harry. If it's so obvious, then why did Harry kiss you? Shouldn't he be shaming you for liking a Death Eater's son?

Like he knows what you're thinking, she says, "boys are as dense as the castle walls."

That makes you laugh. You turn back towards her and grab her hand. "Thank you, Hermione. For being a friend."

She smiles back at you. "It's no problem at all."

You wake up with a yelp. You kick the covers off of you and clutch your arm. Ripping the bandages off, you almost cry out at the pitch-black snake wriggling all over your arm. It feels like someone's repeatedly stabbing your arm. 

Biting on your lower lip, you try to keep your noise to a minimum to not wake up your roommates. Between gritted teeth, you cast muffliato to the heavy velvet drapes around your bed and you let out the first cry.

Your nails dig into your flesh as your left hand contorts in pain. The burning stops after a while and the metallic taste of blood hits your tongue. 

You lay staring up at the ceiling, scared of what you'll see when you close your eyes and go back to sleep. So, as it is almost breakfast time, you get up and get dressed to make your way to the Great Hall. By the time all students are munching on their cereal or sausages and the mail comes, you're almost finished with your toast.

People flock to each other, all looking at the Daily Prophet in students' hands. You roll your eyes. Probably some false accusations about Harry and Dumbledore again.

But as you stand up and make a move to your first class, a hand on your wrist stops you. You look down and Draco wordlessly hands his copy of the Daily Prophet to you. You frown not caring at first but the headline catches your attention.

MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN

And below is a moving photograph of your mother, screaming and trashing against the chains shackled around her wrists. She looks absolutely insane. 

Blood drains from your face as your hands tremble. No no no NO NO. This can't be happening! She's supposed to be locked up! Azkeban is supposed to be the most secure wizarding prison on the planet!

Bile rises up in your throat. You throw the newspaper down and sprint out of the Great Hall. You burst through the door of the first toilet you encounter and make it just in time before you puke out your breakfast. 

You're sobbing at this point, not knowing if it's because of the puking or because Bellatrix Lestrange is a free woman once again.

You hear the doors being thrown open and a familiar voice calls out your name. Another sob wrecks through your body before the second wave of nausea hits you like a shit ton of bricks.

A pair of hands collect your hair and hold it out of your face, rubbing comforting circles over your back. By the time you finish puking, a mixture of snot and tears runs down your face and you're white-knuckling the porcelain of the toilet bowl.

Looking up, you meet the concerned brown eyes of Theodore. A whimper escapes your lips as he conjures a glass of water and a handkerchief. As you drink up the water and get rid of the foul taste in your mouth, he helps you off the floor and wipes your face clean.

Theodore crouches down as you sit on the toilet lid. He rubs circles over your knees with his thumbs as he asks, "still nauseous?"

You shake your head, sniffing. "No. It's not like I've got anything left in my stomach to spew out." A humourless chuckle leaves your numb lips.

The silence is thick as your eyes are trained on your hands while Theodore's are on you. 

"I felt it happen." Your voice breaks as you look up, a guilty look on your face.

Theodore frowns, not understanding.

"I woke up with i-it burning and it was dark, almost pitch black. It was like he wanted me to know what he has done." Your eyes flick towards your left arm, which is covered by the sleeve of your emerald green sweater.

Hesitantly, Theodore's fingers push up your sleeve and slowly undo the too-tightly-wrapped bandages. You do not dare to look at Theodore's reaction, your bottom lip trembling.

You feel his thumb trace the skin around it, steering clear of the mark. They slide downwards, tracing the lines of your hand before lacing his fingers between yours.

The action makes your head snap towards the dark-haired boy. "I just wanted to protect you", you whisper broken, memories of the day coming back. "He said that because we were courting I am old enough to 'prove myself'."

You rub comforting circles on Theodore's thumb, trying to steady yourself. "He kidnapped a Muggle. I knew him. He used to work at the diner. He was a kind soul. I tried to stop it. But it was no use... The Muggle is dead and I am a..." You choke over your words with a sob. 

"A-and I knew that that would be your fate if I won't obey his every command. He won't kill you, but he's not above torturing loved ones."

Theodore pulls you toward you, wrapping his arms around your trembling body. He holds you tightly against his chest. A hand weaves into your hair as he keeps you close to him. 

It feels safe, to be in his arms. He is warm and inviting and just feels right.

"I can take it, don't worry." Theodore grabs your cheeks with both of his hands to look into your eyes. "I can handle whatever the Dark Lord will throw and you and me and us, just to keep you safe."

You profusely shake your head. "No... I can't let you do that! The Cruciatus Curse is-is the most horrible thing I've ever experienced..."

It takes a few seconds for your words to dawn on Theodore. "He crusio'd you?" The three words are said with so much hatred and venom that you flinch away. Theodore's hands slide from your face to your upper arms, holding you tightly. He rests his forehead against yours. "I'm sorry", he whispers.

You shake your head. You clutch tightly onto his sweater as he raises from his crouching position, helping you onto your feet. 

"Let's get you cleaned up and into bed, okay?"

The way towards the common room is a blur. You only remember Theodore cleaning your face with a wet washcloth and him leaving the bathroom to give you privacy to change. Theodore also makes sure the bandages hide the Mark without hurting you.

As you crawl under the covers, you look up at the brown-haired boy whose kindness you don't deserve for treating him like shit since summer.

"You try to sleep, okay?", he says, petting your hair and planting a kiss on your forehead. "I'll talk to Snape and say you've got a stomach bug or something and that you're not well."

As he turns around to leave, you grab his wrist. He looks at you with raised eyebrows. You cash your eyes down and let go of his wrist. You want to ask him to stay. To stay until you're asleep. Actually... you want him to come lay down next to you and hug you tightly. But you can't ask that of him.

"Thank you, Theo. You didn't need to do it."

Theodore smiles softly, something unfamiliar flickering in his eyes. "Anytime, Darling."

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[saltygilmores]

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls, 3x9, A Deep Fried Korean Thanksgiving, Part IV

I just realized the winter carnival episode is next and tbh I'm pretty stoked about that one.

Ugh, someone left Gilmores on my front porch. Fetch me my broom. Shoo! Shoo! At Thanksgiving number one, we find out Lane is spinning yet another tangled web of lies to ensnare Soggy Rygalski (my new pet name for him, don't ask). Mrs Kim thinks Soggy is actually in a Christian band that Lane discovered through church and not a sinful rock band. Mrs Kim serves Tofurky and I feel as if our little vegetarian diner rat would have enjoyed that.

Welcome back, Soggy.

Dang. When Rory sees how people like her mother and Luke and Mrs Kim treat their employees, it's no wonder she doesn't want to get a job! Bad dum tssssh. Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all night.

Why did I remember that scene as being a lot longer than it was? It lasted less than three minutes. Weird!

Onward, from Soggy to Sookie.

"According to the National Fire Protection Association: deep fryer fires cause an average of 5 deaths, 60 injuries and more than $15 million in property damage each year. Deep-frying turkeys has become increasingly popular, but the new tradition is a recipe for holiday tragedy."

Men, eh? One minute they're lying about turkey preparation and the next they're lying about having a vasectomy.

Rory looking gravely concerned or lost in thought as usual. Thinking deep thoughts about frying. Asked Sookie not once but twice "What do you use the oil for"?

Granny creakily rising from her lawn chair to join the hordes of Jackson's screaming white trash relatives has to be one of my favorite bits in this episode (maybe the season?) so far.

Gather round, white trash young and old. Your king has arrived.

THE FACES!

This whole scene is top notch. I tip my hat to you, Miss AmyShermanPalladino. After departing the white trash jubilee, it's time to circle back to Lukes. I know small business owners are hard working people who don't always have the luxury of shutting down and taking a break, but do you think he ever closes the diner? For anything? Christmas Day? Yeah, I'm sure ya'll can name a few times on the show where he closes up shop (would actually be interested to hear what they were). It wouldn't matter. He'd try to close on Christmas Day and the Gilmores would show up anyway and demand to be served instead of drinking eggnog in their own home. For Christmas, Lorelai should buy Luke a massage. (A LEGITIMATE MASSAGE. You filthy readers).

Mommy Daddy please stop fighting

*smashes Jess and Rory together like I'm 9 years old forcing two Barbie dolls to make out*

Alarming to see Lorelai treat Jess this nicely because I worry she may be ill. Or possibly delirious from hunger (she didn't eat at Sookie's or Lane's, she threw out Mrs Kim's tofurky and just gawked at Sookie's house). It looks like Luke was nice enough to give Jess the day off, but Walmart (and its Hunger Games-style Black Friday festivities) may still be calling. Is this the first real, hot, home made, lovingly prepared holiday meal anyone had ever served him in his entire life? (I'll give partial credit to The Bracebridge Dinner). No street wieners for Jess Mariano this Thanksgiving! Jess says he's starving, but Luke told him not to eat until the Gilmores arrived first. That's some grade a bullshit.

All he wants this Thanksgiving is for his fellow white people to Check Their Privilege. Good luck with that, Lucas.

Serving lewks. Luke has just served the table four heaping plates of hot food and upon hearing that the Gilmores will be trotting off to the McMansion next, presumably to eat way fancier, he says they can just throw everything the fuck out and drink soda if they want. Kay... Jess: Please, Uncle Lucas, don't take away my hot meal. I'm ever so hungry.

A screen shot of Milo eating makes a great gift or any holiday or special occasion.

How DARE you Lucas. You are not going to make my poor tired boy serve coffee to the Gilmores on Thanksgiving Day! Lorelai's your ball and chain, you do it.

Yeah, what a pity that not everyone can kiss like Dean.

"You and Jess are a couple of chickens pecking each other." Yooo, it's about time you pick a lane, Lorelai. You're confusing the poor girl. The last time an adult got wind that Jess and Rory were about to peck like chickens The Incredible HulkLuke smashed down the door and put those two chickens out to pasture. Rory: Mind your own business. Lorelai:???????? I assure you she does not know the meaning of the phrase. R: I'm not good with public displays. L: You didn't have that problem with Dean Me: Trying fruitlessly to remember any scene where Dean and Rory passionately made out in public or showed any sort of affection with each other anywhere that Lorelai could see it R: I don't know how this first second boyfriend thing is supposed to go. L: Well he's your first second boyfriend so give it time. R: The whole town got used to me with Dean. L: It'll get easier, you'll have hundreds of men. Well maybe not hundreds. A couple. Three more. Dean again, Logan, then Logan again. L:They'll adjust to seeing with you Jess! R: What do I do about Dean? L: Well he'll move on too. All this sensible advice coming from Lorelai? It is truly the Thanksgiving of Miracles.

God bless you, Babette. God bless you.

The next scene, a Friday (Thursday) Night Gilmores Showdown at the McMansion goes on for around 8 minutes which is going to feel like more than an hour in Salty Time. I'm going to wilt.