#but! i have christmas gifts to work on now. bye! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

toji-bunny-girl · 11 months ago

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𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐇’𝐒 𝐁!𝐓𝐂𝐇

CHARACTERS— Grinch!Toji Fushiguro x sexy goddess goofy fem!reader SUMMARY— The thief of Christmas joy, the thief of children's gifts, and this time, the thief of your boyfriend's slutty surprise. WORD COUNT— 3k+ CONTENT WARNING— slight angst, swearing, goofiness, smut, porn with plot, adultery, bondage, size difference, orgasm denial, NTR, spanking, fingering, blowjob, oral sex, no protection, noncon A/N— I wanna get fucked dumb by Toji too (hope yall don’t notice the obvious bias in smut between this and the other two Kinkmas fics 🤭 this man just makes me 100000x hornier)

“You sure you can breathe in there?” Miya questioned your sanity, a frown etched upon her face as she stared at the way you shifted on your knees, tied up with red ropes in a Santa lingerie.

“I mean, there’s a few small holes I made at the back,” you pointed with your eyes, an awkward laugh skipping out of your throat.

“You’re fucking insane, (Y/N),” your best friend sighed, shutting her eyes to take a rest from your ridiculous sight. “All this for what? You’re not even sure if Mr. Vanilla likes kinky aah shit like this.”

“Never back down never what…” you softly mumbled, trying to keep yourself focused on what you’ve prepared for your boyfriend this Christmas. He’d return home from work to find a giant ribboned box on his bed. Inside would be you, all tied up in your new erotic red lingerie.

You’ve managed to convince yourself that this was all a wonderful erotic surprise for Seiji. When in reality it was nothing but a catalyst to excite your sexual relationship with him. The thing is—your boyfriend is the most vanilla partner you’d ever have, while without his knowledge; you were the kinkiest slut your friends had ever known.

Throughout your 9 months of dating, sex was infrequent and soft. To put things truthfully, the act with your boyfriend is boring. You’ve tried encouraging him to be more experimental with you—to lightly chock you or even slap your ass when he’s fucking you. But he just couldn’t bring himself to do it, and maybe that’s part of the reason you fell for him.

He’s gentle and kind, ever so careful to handle you like you’re a fragile piece of art. Seiji was nothing like your past lovers, with him you learned true romance. With the price of your sexual satisfaction and ardour.

So this Christmas, you thought of a plan to surprise him—his sexy girlfriend all tied up for him to use however he wanted. It’s every man’s dream come true to have a fervid hottie on their bed. But when it comes to Seiji, you could never be sure of it; he’s different than the others but he’s your Seiji.

“What’s the time now,” you raised your eyebrows as Miya peeked at her phone screen.

“6:56.”

“How’s my makeup? How’s my hair?” you dubiously asked, needing everything to be perfect as if you had just popped out of a Playboy magazine.

“Very sexy,” Miya assured under her breath as she brushed a wild strand of hair away from your face. Her eyes scanned your face to spot any smudged makeup, “As always, so pretty.”

“Thank you so much, Miya. Once Seiji fucked the shit out of me and get me pregnant—I��m naming one of my kids after you,” you frivolously said, leaving the girl chuckling at your words.

“Alright, I have to leave before Vanilla Man comes back,” she checked the time once more before grabbing the lid of the giant box. “But I gotta give it to you, this shit is low-key weird but original.”

“Thanks for your compliment,” you grinned at your friend, before feeling the light over your head gone and replaced by darkness.

“Bye, (Y/N). Don’t die in there!” Miya’s voice muffled through the cardboard as she tapped the box goodbye. Silence ensued and soon, you heard the front door slam close.

Seiji had better not be home late if he didn’t want his prurient surprise to turn into a horror documentary on YouTube.

Your joints were starting to ache within a minute of waiting, the kneeling position you chose obviously backfired. Sure, the pose is cute and all—but is it worth the growing pain in your knees? If you’re getting absolutely ravished by tonight; then yes.

By the next few minutes, you began to lament about the choices you had made. Your knees hurt so bad it felt like someone was flaying their whip onto your skin, and you were busy chanting your mantra just to stop your tears from flowing out and ruining your hours-spent makeup.

Never back down never what…?

“Fuck it,” you cried, leaning your weight sideways against the cardboard just to lessen the burden on your joints. But as much as you regretted everything, the box toppled to the side along with your body. “Shit! Oh my god, what the fuck do I do?! Help!”

You tried to wriggle yourself out of the giant box but with your limbs bounded tight, you could do nothing but writhe like a worm. You must’ve looked like a clown.

Then, you heard it. The soft shutting of the door and the floorboard slightly creaked with footsteps. Though, each stride seemed to be a thump—were Seiji’s feet ever so heavy?

But you don’t ruminate over that, you have a bigger problem on your hands right then. Your boyfriend was going to walk in on you awkwardly lying on your side, what seemed to be a lewd surprise became a scene of embarrassment; you looked as if you were kidnapped and tied up, and it wasn’t in any sensual form you desired.

The bedroom door creaked open and your pulse began thumping fast in your ears. You could feel your face scorching into scarlet red, and you squeezed your lips shut, trying not to make a sound. Perhaps you were drunk off the hot embarrassment, you thought perhaps if you were silent enough, he wouldn’t notice the giant Christmas-themed box sitting in the middle of his bed, right?

Then you felt yourself being hoisted up into the air, and confusion struck your being. What was Seiji doing? Did he know about you hiding inside the box? Now was he fooling around with you?

“Seiji…?” you softly mumbled, and you were met with long silence as a reply. What exactly was going on? Feeling yourself put down on the wooden floor, you heard shuffling before you were propelled backwards from a harsh kick. “Hey!”

This wasn’t Seiji. Never was he one to ever act so rashly upon anyone or anything. And your skin began to crawl with a newfound fear. If a burglar were to find you helpless and unable to defend yourself…you were lucid with what could happen to you.

Fuck, man. You internally cursed, God was obviously making fun of your dumb little idea. Fuck the originality, you wanted out more than anything.

“One of ya’ fairies stuck in there?” the stranger spoke gravelly, his voice gruff like the rough bark of trees. Then he let out a deep laugh, slamming a palm atop the box. “You guys should start tellin’ Santa he can’t be throwin’ all the hard jobs to the tiny elves and fairies.”

The lid of the box lifted open and you squeezed your eyes shut from the sudden prickling exposure of bright rays. Slowly, your sight adjusted to the light and you peeked your eyelids open to look at the intruder.

A Christmas suit, and a marked face of animosity—the male squatted over your tied form with a look of uncongenial nonchalance. “Not a fairy…nor an elf. A human?”

“No shit, you crazy bitch. My boyfriend’s coming back any second now, and he’d beat the shit out of you!” you tried to daunt the stranger, though with a single look at him—you knew it was improbable that Seiji could take on this guy.

“You can see me?” he sounded amused, hands slightly waving around his sides.

“What do you mean ‘I can see you’? You’re a ghost or something?”

“Not quite,” he sighed, and you could smell burnt tobacco from his breath. “You ever heard of the Grinch?”

“Yeah…?”

“Well, turns out Christmas isn’t fake,” you stared as he gave you a slight smirk, the dark scar down his lips rising.

“And you’re telling me you’re ‘grinch’?” your eyes narrowed, scepticism in your features.

“Smart girl.”

“When really, you’re breaking into people’s houses and trying to convince them you’re a Christmas character whenever you’re caught red-handed.”

“Mm, yer’ ain’t wrong,” his eyes wandered to the side.

“That makes you a burglar, man.”

“One that no one can see… except for you’,” his eyebrows drew closer into a frown. “How odd.” His features shifted all of a sudden, and he relaxed into a sigh. “Fairy dust?”

“What?”

“This,” he pointed at the glitter on your eyelids.

“Oh, this? I found them on my dressing table so I thought why not,” you shrugged, rendering the hulking male to crack into a chuckle of disbelief.

“These are fairy dusts. The fairies leave them the night before Christmas to spread joy and wonders to people, ya’ get me? Anyone who touches ‘em would be able to see us,” he spoke apathetically. “And my job…” his hand reached out towards you, thumb swiping over your eyelid, “is to steal these.”

“My makeup!” you shouted, trying to wriggle yourself away from him. “I spent 2 hours doing them!”

“Why would ‘cha put random glitter on yer’ eyes anyway,” he retorted, grabbing your much smaller face with his large hand and using the other to wipe the fairy dust off of your skin.

“I hate you, bitch!”

“The name’s Toji, sweetheart,” he purred, the lowest cadence of his voice scratching the itch in your eardrums. Your eyebrows knitted into a glare, trying to mask the dark heat on your cheeks with that lour look of yours.

“You’ve got your stupid ‘fairy dust’ now. Happy?”

“Nope.”

“What more do you want?!”

“I haven’t picked a present to steal yet…” something in his eyes coruscate, a sharp ray of emerald green hared by in volant flash. In that moment, you could feel something stormy, so wild and barbaric in him—something you’ve missed since Seiji.

“I-I’ve got nothing here,” you huffed, stammering over your words as you shifted your gaze away.

“Ain’t you one?” his eyes raked over your figure, cleavage pushed up for view, and soft thighs presented like a toy. You felt naked underneath him; and for for some reason your nipples began to perk against the thin fabric of the scarlet red lingerie, panties beginning to dampen with arousal.

This man looked like a good fuck—and boy did your body needed one. Your lips paused open to say something, but you were simply cut off by a sudden shock when you felt your body lifted into the air once more. Toji was carrying all your weight with a hefty arm, pulling you out of the box and settling you onto the floor.

“Gee, thanks. Shit was starting to feel claustrophobic,” you never knew you were holding so much breath in when the male began to untie the ropes that held you. To be more specific, the ropes around your body except your hands. “Think you missed a spot, buddy.”

“Didn’t miss it,” he stood, watching as your legs wearily crumbled onto the ground. “Never intended to free ya’.”

You raised a brow, tilting your head upwards to look at him. And now from your height, you’d never imagine the male to be this huge. Even through his clothes, you could visibly spot the bulking muscles underneath, and the undeniable bulge in his pants.

Toji let out a low chuckle when he caught your eyes, showing the whites of your orbs as you stared; your tongue wet from salivating what could be under those stupid Christmas pants, a quiet gulp as your clit throbbed.

“Like what ‘cha lookin’ at?” his hot palm rested over your head, slightly messing up your hair but you couldn't care less anymore. His thumb tucked down all the restraint over his cock, and the sight of it made your breath hitched.

Dark tip with a prominent vein running down the bottom of his shaft, your lips almost instinctively opened to fit what you could into your mouth.

“Good girl,” he grinned, feeling the way your saliva coat his cock, tongue flickering and flattening against his throbbing tip. You gently stuffed your mouth with his member, before hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head around his length.

Toji sharply sucked the air through his teeth, one hand fisting your hair and the other pumping the part of his shaft where you couldn’t reach.

“Such a fuckin’ slut,” he groaned under his breath, peering down at the way your eyes closed shut in silent contentment, slowly inching more of him through your lips until his tip was bumping against the wall of your throat.

You threw your head back after gagging a while on his cock, a string of saliva connecting his member with your tongue. Your jaw was getting sore and you had to take a quick breather until you were forced down again by Toji’s palm.

“Didn’t say you could stop,” he spat, thrusting his hips forward and stuffing your throat full of him. He was so big, too much to handle and tears began to well around your eyes; yet you’re moaning to the thought of his size, how it’ll just reach perfectly deep in your hole.

“Mmhp!” you whined, muffled by his member but Toji didn’t pause until after a few long, deep pushes into your swollen throat. Stuffing your mouth full of his cum, leaking out from the edges of your aching lips.

You spat his semen onto the ground before he grabbed you up onto the bed, spreading your thighs open with his breath still unstable from his previous ejaculation. “Fuckin’ whore,” he laughed, a thick thumb rubbing over your pulsing panty-covered clit. “Suckin’ dick got ‘cha wet?”

“Speak for yourself,” you breathed, “staring at my body got you hard?”

“How ‘bout you fill that mouth with my name instead of yer’ smart words?” his eyes were like green gems under shades; dark, sensual emerald. Slipping your panty off, Toji clicked his tongue when his eyes settled upon your glisteningly wet pussy, a smirk riding the edge of his mouth up.

You let in a sharp inhale when he stuffed two thick fingers into your cunt, your essence already coating his digits within a few pumps, the calloused skin of his fingers spurring on tingles in your pussy walls. He was a maven with his hands, fingers ably searching for the spongey spot inside of you, long enough to reach where you couldn’t—nor Seiji.

Seiji. Your mind began to plague with guilt for your poor boyfriend, you didn’t want to do him wrong but fuck—you just couldn’t stop when Toji had your sweet spot; rubbing over your clenching walls with a thumb busy swiping over your swollen clit.

Your pussy tightened around his digits as you cried for release, moans and whines filled the room as you buckled your hips. But as much as you wanted it, Toji refused to lead you through; a raffish smirk on his face as you swore at him.

“I was about to cum, asshole!” you gasped, visibly annoyed with the frown on your face. You raised a leg to facetiously kick him, but he caught your ankle in his grasp before dragging your body closer to him.

“Didn’t catch ‘cha beggin’,” a deep chuckle rumbled out of his lungs as his hands trailed up your thighs.

“I don’t beg for nothing,” you tried to play bratty.

“Oh, yea?” your body jumped up when he slapped the tip of heavy cock against your clit, your eyes seemingly dripping with desperation over your mask of a twisted frown. You wanted him inside of you so bad, and he could see it right through you.

Slipping a few inches his member into your folds, you could feel your cunt burn from the stretch, gripping onto his girth as he slowly forced himself in.

“Shit—” Toji swore under his breath, watching the way your pussy sucked him in, needy for him to fill your insides. You let out an exhale when his cock brushed over your sweet spots, your abdomen tingling when he reached deep.

He placed his arms on both sides of your head, hovering over your body with his, hips thrusting in and out of you. You could feel his warmth radiating towards yours, heating up your cheeks as you blinked up at him. His head dipped down to kiss you, sucking on your lips before sinking his teeth down, a hand slipping up to rest on your throat.

Your face began to turn red as he tightened his grip on your neck, his pace starting to roughen, the bed frame hitting against the wall so hard you doubted it wouldn't leave a mark. Your head was starting to get light, eyes blanking out with each blink and you could see stars popping in your sight.

You clenched your teeth as you shut your eyes, focusing on the pleasure building up in your womb, hugging Toji close with your thighs.

Just a little more, you thought as you peered down at where the two of you connected, his cock disappearing down your pussy and slipping out. Instead of filling your cunt with his length again, he let his hands hugged his girth, jerking himself off in front of you.

“Haah—fuck!” you swore, biting down your lower lip. “I was close, again!”

“What d’ya say?”

“Need your cock, please?” you cried, tired of the second orgasm he refused for you, and you were met with Toji manhandling you onto your knees, glistening cunt for his view as he stuffed a finger into your folds, teasing you with light stimulation.

That was until your phone buzzed with a new notification from your boyfriend, panic set in your being as you stared at your phone.

Sorry I’ll be a little late home, I had a quick meeting with the team :/ Don’t worry tho I just got out of the station. On the way home rn :) Miss you!

“W-Wait! My boyfriend’s coming back…!” you tried to crawl away from him, but it was all in obvious futility as he held your hips, sinking his throbbing cock into your needy pussy.

“Shut yer’ mouth up and cum for me. Would ‘cha, pretty girl?” he groaned into your ear, his fingers sunk into your cheeks as he gripped onto your face, hips fucking deep into your sloppy cunt and fat tip kissing your cervix.

Your nerves were dancing upon fire, and you could do nothing but roll your eyes to the back of your head, your lips pausing open in pleasure as you let out croaked moans. Toji’s hips were positioning harder in and out of your sore pussy, his fingers swiping fast against your clit.

He could feel your walls clenching tighter than ever around him, and he shoved your head into the bedsheets to muffle out your screams, your bounded hands fighting against the restraints, and your back arching down towards the bed.

With his cock brushing over your G-spot and hitting your cervix for the nth time, your essence came squirting out of your core. You were silent for a second, sent to a heaven of pure ecstasy and your body twitched in pleasure you had never felt before.

Toji was still busy chasing his own high, simply using you as a fucktoy to be roughened up however he wanted—disregarding your overstimulated cunt and continuing to shove his cock into you. You could hear his groans starting to grow louder, feel his hips fastened and soon, warm spurts of thick cum filled your womb.

Your thighs shook in overstimulation as your whole weight fell onto the bed; sweat sticking your lingerie onto your skin and the bedsheets dirtied with your makeup. Toji had ruined you as he fucked, yet you’ve never found such contentment in sex.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he whispered, pasting a kiss onto your drooling lips, watching in satisfaction as your eyes blanked out from the fucking. “Tell yer’ lil’ boyfriend I said welcome.”

“(Y/N), I’m home!”

@coolpizzazonkplaid @byhuenii @idkmanimreallysleepy @stainednailpolishremover @jxnyi @peachtreexoxo @yaygurist @lalaloverss @aexlime @naruucore @sathavious @guillermowhatwedointheshadows @mistygrovesarchive @glittercums @altmoo @lollixgoddess @victoriak01 @kimminjulvr @ghostlyluminarycloud @satorminniett @someonewhotendstowrite @buhdussy @ichirasblog @kokomisworld @magiouu @bobbicore @xxshiino @urmommyzhot @jjkwhor3 @erostaeyong @tojisprincesa @edgyficuselastica @clemianna @fromthechaoticmind @idkcoolise @fallinlovewithbeelzebub @sirshitsalot12 @kuraa01 @awyunh @lxvegojo

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headkiss · 2 years ago

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not just on christmas

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: steve’s parents are coming home for the holidays and he’s in need of a fake date. who better than you, his best friend?

word count: 8.2k

warnings: steve’s parents (derogatory), negative comments about his job, fake dating, friends to lovers, christmas themes, fluff, first kiss!

a/n: i had lots of fun with this one and i hope u guys like it!!! merry christmas and happy holidays i hope they treat u all well <33 consider this my gift to you :D

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The phone ringing forces Steve out of bed. Floors cool on his feet, the air a chill on his bare chest, he rubs his eyes lazily and picks it up.

“Hello?” He clears his throat to get rid of the sleep in his voice.

“Steve, why do you sound tired, it’s nearly noon!”

It’s no surprise that the first words aren’t asking him how he is. He’s shocked she cared enough to pick up on the tone of his voice at all. “Hi, mom.”

He doesn’t even know where she’s calling from, doesn’t know what business trip they're on. He can’t remember the last time he got a phone call that wasn’t you, or Robin, or Dustin, or anyone else other than his parents.

Steve’s not even excited to be hearing from them, because it’s a reminder that they’re not around, that they haven’t forgotten about him, they just don’t care.

He wishes you were the one that called.

“Listen, sweetie, your dad and I are coming home for Christmas this year, isn’t that great?”

He deflates, “yeah. Super.”

“There’s a business event he wants to take you to. And we’ll find you a date,” there’s the catch. There’s always a catch. “You can make some connections, maybe get out of your job at that video store soon.”

The thing is, he actually likes working at Family Video, but he knows that doesn’t matter. Then there’s the topic of the girlfriend, or lack thereof. His parents are always nagging him about when he’ll settle down, grow roots, or something.

Maybe that’s why he says, “I can get my own date. I have a girlfriend.”

“Oh! That’s fantastic! She’ll have dinner with us, won’t she? What’s her name?”

Like an idiot, he says your name. The first one that came to his mind.

You’re his best friend, and it’s easy to let his thoughts drift to you. The problem is, he has no idea how he’s going to explain this to you, how he can ask you to fake date him just to satisfy his parents for once.

If he wasn’t still on the phone, Steve would be groaning into a pillow right now.

“Okay, sweetie, your dad has a brunch we have to get to. We’ll see you soon!”

“Bye, mom. See you.”

He hangs up and sighs in relief. That feeling is quick to fade when he remembers that he had just named you his girlfriend in the midst of his phone call. He drops his face into his hands, runs them through his hair, and tries to figure out how the hell to bring up the subject with you.

To go along with that, he has to worry about his parents coming home. Though, can they really call it ‘home’ when they’ve been gone for so long? When they’ll leave again after a few days, a week at most?

Most people would be happy, excited, about their parents being around for the holidays. Steve’s not. He’d rather spend it how he has since the two of you became friends. Breakfast at your house with your family—who have become family for Steve, too—presents opened with scented candles burning and Christmas albums spun on the record player.

You went out of your way to include him, and he’s never felt so welcome in his life as he does when he’s with you.

At least, if you agree, you’ll be with him this year, too.

It’s the next day when Steve decides to bring it up. You’re at his house for movie night, which has become a weekly ritual for the two of you. He’s been trying to figure out what exactly to say since he hung up the damn phone. He’s given up and instead hopes it’ll come to him in the moment.

Today, Steve’s quiet, which is unlike him. You know something’s on his mind and you try to avoid asking him about it, trying to let him talk about it on his own time. It’s about halfway through the movie that you change your mind.

He didn’t complain when you showed up with your cheesy Christmas movie choice, he didn’t light-heartedly tease you about your outfit of choice (some festive patterned pajama pants and a sweater that’s so worn there are holes in the neckline), and the most unusual, he didn’t make a single joke or comment as the movie played.

He’s really, really quiet.

You pick up the remote and pause it, “what’s going on with you, Steve?”

He looks at you, catches your eye and sees nothing but genuine concern. Sometimes he hates the way you know him so well. He can never hide anything from you.

“What? Nothing.”

You blink at him, “come on.”

“Fine, okay. Just, don’t say anything until I’m done, please.”

“Okay,” you pretend to zip your mouth shut, ready to listen.

“My mom called yesterday and told me they’re coming home for Christmas, and that there’s this business thing they want me to go to, and that I need a date for it,” he scrubs a hand down his face, trying to hide his embarrassment. “And you know how they’re always on my ass about me being single and stuff so I kind of told her I already had a girlfriend, and maybe I told her that girlfriend is you.”

What?

There’s a lot to process there. Mostly the fact that out of all of the names he could have chosen, he said yours. You wait for him to explain some more, but he’s looking at you like he’s waiting for a reply, so, your mouth is now unzipped.

“So, what exactly does that mean?”

He mutters a curse under his breath. “Um, so, I need you to pretend to be my actual girlfriend while they’re here.”

His use of the word ‘need’ is telling. Steve’s not one to ask for help, not even when he needs it the most but here he is, nervous and a little pink-cheeked, asking for your help.

You let the thought sit in your head for a bit. It’s not hard for you to want to agree. Steve’s your best friend, and you’d do pretty much anything for him. Though, that might also have to do with the fact that you’ve been in love with him for years.

You know more about his relationship with his parents then most do, so if you can make their visit more bearable for him in any way, why wouldn’t you?

“Okay,” you say.

“Okay? Like, you’ll do it?”

“Yeah, sure. I’m happy to help.”

That was a lot easier than Steve thought it’d be. You barely even questioned him before agreeing, and that’s not lost on him.

“Thank you so much, seriously,” he throws his arm over your shoulders, squeezes you to him in a side hug. “It’s only a few days, then we can go back to normal.”

“Easy peasy,” you say, reaching for the remote and hitting play.

Aside from your wanting to help him, to be there for him like you know he would for you, you’re also curious to see what it’s like to be with Steve that way, even if it’s fake. It’s hopeless, the way you love him, like the moon orbiting the earth around and around. Constant.

Sure, those feelings will probably only swell because of the fake relationship, but you’ve been housing them for long enough anyway.

What could go wrong?

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Robin says from the other side of a clothing rack, sifting through the pieces.

She’s the first, and only, person you told about the fake dating thing. Naturally, she decided she’d help you shop for a dress to wear to this business thing and talk about it at the same time.

The mall is decorated, garlands and lights strung, a big Christmas tree lit up in the middle of it all.

“It’s only a couple of days. It’ll be fine.”

“I’m talking about you being in love with him,” she deadpans.

“Robin, not so loud.”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

You know she’s being honest, and though the thought has been at the back of your mind, a whisper, you’d like to believe that you can handle a fake relationship without ruining things because of your big, big feelings.

“I spend time with him alone a bunch. It’s not that much different, okay?”

“Besides the fact that you’ll be calling him boyfriend and acting like it, too, you mean.”

Actually, you’ve been trying not to think about what exactly pretending to be his girlfriend entails. You don’t know if he’ll hold your hand, if he’ll hold you closer than he has before, if he’ll kiss you. You think it might be better to wait and see, to not let the possibilities eat at you.

“I know it sounds bad, but it’s Steve. Nothing major will happen. We’re friends and I’m helping him out.”

Robin’s in a tricky spot. She knows how you feel about Steve, obviously, and though he doesn’t see it yet himself, she knows that Steve feels the same, too. It’s taken a lot to hold herself back from speeding things along, and as much as she wishes this fake relationship plan might be a good push, things usually aren’t so easy.

She can also tell that there’s a lot you’re thinking but not saying, but instead of pushing it, she returns to looking at the dresses. It’s not long before she gasps, pulling one of the rack to show you.

“This one,” she says.

“I don’t know. That won’t look good on me.”

It’s pretty, though. You’ll give her that.

“Shut up, everything looks good on you. Will you at least try it on?” She wiggles the hanger in her hand, “for me?”

“Fine.”

You take it from her, walking back towards the fitting rooms with a grinning Robin in tow. She waits outside the door while you change into the dress.

Once it’s on, looking in the mirror, you don’t even know what to think. You’re not one to feel all that confident in what you wear, or in how you look, but this dress makes you feel pretty. Maybe you should make Robin pick out all of your clothes.

“Let me see!” Robin calls.

You step out of the changeroom, doing a shy little spin when she asks. She’s smiling proudly, like she knows she chose well (which she did). She can’t help but think of how Steve will react, because she knows he feels something for you, she can see it on his face everytime he talks about you. He’s just a dork and he doesn’t realize it. Not yet, at least.

“What do you think?” You ask.

“If Steve’s not already in love with you…”

“Don’t finish that sentence.”

If she does, your brain will conjure up way too many ideas of what could possibly happen. If Steve could really feel the same. If maybe he’ll feel those same butterflies in his stomach that you do, if his heart feels bigger when you’re around. In your dreams, he does.

“I’m trying to tell you you look hot!”

December twenty-third is the day that Steve’s parents come home as well as the night of the business event. You and Steve have tried to figure out how to act like a couple, quizzing each other on things you already know, setting loose boundaries, but you figure after knowing each other for so long, being so close, it won’t feel much different than now. Besides the extra touching, the possibility of kissing.

You’re already at his house when his parents get home, your makeup and outfit for tonight sitting in Steve’s room. The two of you linger near the front door waiting for their arrival, a nervous and jittery welcoming committee.

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway grabs your attention. It’s a clapperboard snapping shut, marking the scene. Action.

“You ready, babe?” He holds out his arm for you to grab, and you do.

“Time to be the best couple ever,” you reply.

Steve grins at you. He has no idea how to thank you for agreeing to do this, how to even explain to you the relief you’re sure to bring. It’s one less thing for his parents to pick and pry at.

The door opens, and you can already feel a change in Steve’s demeanor. He’s standing straighter, stiffer. You squeeze his arm, a reminder that you’re there.

“Steve, sweetie!” His mother barely greets him before moving onto you, “and this is your girlfriend?”

“Hi, Mrs. Harrington.”

If it were someone else’s mother, you’d be hit with the usual ‘oh please, call me (insert name here).’ However, where the Harringtons are concerned, formality is a must. Besides Steve, of course. From what you know, the apple had fallen very, very far from the tree and you mean that as a compliment.

Even after being friends for so many years, this is the first time you’re actually meeting Steve’s parents. It’s clear that he’s never jumped at the opportunity to have his friends around when they’re home. He’s told you about them, and that’s enough for you.

“Steve! Come help me with the bags, would you?” His dad calls from outside, though he says it as a demand rather than a question.

“Yep, coming,” he replies. He kisses the side of your head before going outside, quick and sure, like he’s done it hundreds of times.

“How was your trip, Mrs. Harrington?” You fill the silence.

“Oh, just lovely, thank you,” she moves to the kitchen, expecting you to follow. “The house looks clean. Do you have something to do with that?”

Despite her trying to sound like she’s joking, you know that she truly doesn’t believe that Steve could be the one keeping the place going. As if he hasn’t been doing just that for ages.

“No, no. It’s really Steve.”

Her eyebrows raise, surprised.

Steve and his father walk in before anything else is said—thank God. You shake hands with Mr. Harrington, saying hello and wearing a tight smile. Steve’s quick to come to your side, an arm over your shoulders like a shield. Your hand moves to hold the one resting on your shoulder.

He’s even more tense when his father’s in the room, you’ve noticed. You hold his hand a bit tighter. You wish you could do something to make him feel better, and you hope that this fake relationship will do that at least a little bit.

Meanwhile Steve’s wondering how your presence could make him feel much better than he usually does with his parents around. You’re a comfort beside him, and when he gets the chance, he kisses your head again, whispering a ‘thank you’ into your hair.

The first few hours with Steve’s parents go by dreadfully slow, even with his touch on you most of the time. You’re quickly learning that as a boyfriend—even fake—Steve’s love language is easily physical touch. He has an arm around you, a hand in yours, on your leg, anything.

You’re also learning just how strained his relationship with his parents is. He’d trusted you enough to tell you most of it, but seeing them interact in front of you was different. The backhanded comments, the faces whenever he mentions his job, it makes your heart ache for him.

It’s bad enough that his parents are hardly ever around, but having them act like this when they are? You’re amazed at how good Steve has remained through it all.

When it’s time to get ready for the business party, you’re thankful for the reprieve.

“Think we’re doing a good job?” You ask Steve as he shuts the door to his room.

“They seem to be buying it. Thanks again for doing this.”

“You’ve thanked me like a hundred times, Steve. It’s okay, really.”

You want to tell him that you’re sorry these are the people he has to call family. That he shouldn’t listen to any of the shit they give him about his job or his lack of post-secondary education. That he’s the best boy you’ve ever known.

The problem is, you don’t know how to say all of that without making your feelings for him painfully obvious.

“Just gotta keep it up ‘til Christmas. That’s when they leave.”

“They’re only here for two days?” You knew the trip was going to be short, but forty-eight hours?

“Yeah, something about getting a deal on a cruise. I don’t know.”

He says it so casually, like it’s normal. You guess that for him, it is, but it doesn’t make it any less upsetting.

“Does that mean you’ll come to mine for Christmas day? Like usual?” You ask, hopefully lightening the mood.

“If you’ll have me.”

“Shut up, you’re always welcome. Think my mom likes you more than me anyway,” you nudge his shoulder with yours, then move to bring your stuff into his bathroom to start getting ready.

He leans on the doorframe, watching you set your makeup out on the counter, “she does not.”

“Steve, you have your own stocking hanging on our fireplace. And it’s bigger than mine.”

He smiles genuinely then, the first one since his parents have arrived.

He leaves you to get ready, shutting the bathroom door for when you change. You can still hear him through the door. The opening and closing of his drawers, a curse when he stubs his toe.

So far, pretending to be with Steve has been easy. You’ve acted the same save for the touches or small pecks he’s decided to keep placing on your head or your cheeks. The story you settled on was simple: you met him picking up a movie at Family Video, he asked if you needed company to watch it, the rest is history, blah blah blah.

Steve knocks on the bathroom door when you’re pretty much ready, you glance at yourself one more time in the mirror before opening it.

He stands with his tie in hand, wearing a button up and dress pants. You assume there’s a suit jacket to go along with it, and you think it might kill you. He’s so pretty, and he looks it all of the time but seeing him dressed up is really something.

“You look good, Steve,” you say. Good doesn’t even begin to cover it.

“Thanks. You look- you too.”

Steve’s stunned. He realizes he’s never seen you in anything formal and it’s making him feel all fluttery in his stomach and he doesn’t know what to think of it. He’s always known you’re gorgeous, in an obvious way like how the sky is blue. Now, though, it’s like he can feel it.

He clears his throat quietly and remembers the reason he knocked in the first place, “you don’t happen to know how to tie a tie, do you?”

You’re thankful for the time you decided to learn how when you were bored one day. You take the fabric from his hands, “it’s your lucky day, Steve.”

“Thank you. Didn’t wanna have to go ask my dad.”

He’s almost shy about wanting your help over something so small, his cheeks a little pink, his head bent. You give him a reassuring smile—or what you hope is one—and place the tie around his neck.

His eyes are on you as your hands fiddle with the fabric, doing it up for him. Your eyebrows are slightly scrunched, and he wants to reach out and smooth it out with his thumb. He’s not used to having that urge.

You finish up successfully after having fumbled a little bit, adjusting the tie so it isn’t crooked.

“There you go,” you pat his chest and he hopes you can’t feel his heartbeat, the way it’s quicker than normal.

He has no idea what that’s about.

“Thanks.”

“‘Course.”

He’s still standing close to you, enough that he has to keep his head tilted downwards just a little to be able to look at your face. Your eyes lock onto his, and time seems to slow. You’re so gone for him and you know it, but it almost seems like maybe he’s feeling something too. Just for a moment.

His father calling out that it’s time to go snaps you out of it.

Steve grabs his jacket, shrugging it on then offering you his hand to hold, “let’s do this, girlfriend.”

The hall is oozing Christmas when you walk in, Steve’s hand in yours. Ornaments hang down from the ceiling, warm white string lights line the top of the walls, Christmas music hums through the speakers, and an extravagant Christmas tree sits in the middle of the room.

You’ve never been to an event like it, and you have a hard time keeping your nerves at bay.

Pretending in front of Steve’s parents alone was one thing. Now, the stakes are higher. You have to be convincing and though it’s not difficult for you to pretend to be in love with Steve (you don’t have to fake that at all), you worry that you’ll slip up somehow and give yourself away. Both in the sense that the relationship is fake, and that your feelings are anything but.

It’s not long before Steve’s father gets pulled into a conversation, and his mother goes along with him. You’re left standing near the doorway with Steve, biting at the inside of your cheek.

“Relax,” he leans his head close to yours and whispers.

“Sorry. I’m just nervous.”

“We’re fine. You’re fine,” he squeezes your hand, something that’s quickly become a wordless reassurance between you. “We’ve done good so far, right?”

“I guess so.”

“Okay, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

Except for the fact that I love you and that you being a really good fake boyfriend isn’t helping.

“Okay.”

He smiles and leads you further into the room. The smile he gives you is different from the one he gives the people that say hi to him, the people that stop him for a chat. For you, it’s honest. For them, it doesn’t reach his eyes, it doesn’t mean anything.

“About time you tied someone down, Steve,” a man says to him. A coworker of his father’s, just like most men in the room.

“Think she’s the one who got me, but yeah.”

“That’s sweet. Next step is to get you a stable job, huh?”

It seems like all anyone here is concerned about is what people do, who they know. It’s no fun for you and they aren’t even speaking to you directly most of the time.

“Sure. Good to see you,” Steve excuses the both of you from the conversation.

“These people suck,” you say to him, leading him to the bar set up in a corner.

“Tell me about it.”

You order water for the both of you, something to get rid of the dryness in your throat and occupy you for a bit. You drink quietly before Steve speaks up.

“You look beautiful, by the way.”

He doesn’t know why it slips out now, but it does. The thought has been on his mind since he saw you standing there in his bathroom, and it’s getting harder and harder to ignore.

“You don’t have to say that, Steve. Nobody’s listening.”

“I mean it, seriously.”

“Oh,” you look down at your glass, at the condensation running down the side. The corners of your mouth lift, “thank you.”

“I know this isn’t the most fun, but I’m glad you’re here with me,” he admits. He’s always been sweet to you, but this feels different. You don’t know how or why, but it does.

“I am too.”

Steve’s dad interrupts your moment, pulling Steve off to meet some people. Already, there’s a guard being put up by him, a shield he saves for his father.

For those few minutes, where it was just you and Steve, you realized that he’s probably the best date you’ve ever had. He pays attention to you, he’s comforting without even trying, and he compliments you with so much honesty you could melt.

He’s the best date you’ve ever had and it’s fake. It’s becoming a mantra repeated in your head; it’s not real, it’s not real.

Lost in thought, you don’t notice the boy who’s sat next to you now.

“I’ve never seen you before,” he says.

“I’m not usually at these things. I came with my boyfriend,” you tell him, unsettled by his stare.

“And where is this boyfriend now?”

“He’s out there. I just needed some water but he’ll come back soon.”

You’re trying to get him to go away, to take the hint. He won’t.

“Why don’t I keep you company in the meantime?”

You’re about to reply when someone else does it for you, “not necessary. She’s my girl.”

My girl. Steve. He stands behind you, wraps his arms around your waist. It’s like he knew you needed him then, showing up as soon as you felt like you wanted to search for him. He runs his hands over your sides, a possessive touch that has your skin tingling.

“My bad, man. Thought she was lying about the boyfriend,” the guy says.

“She wasn’t. Even if she was, maybe you should learn to tell when someone isn’t interested, yeah?”

The stranger nods and walks off.

You spin in Steve’s hold, facing him. “My hero.”

“You know me,” he shrugs.

What he doesn’t say is that seeing another guy talk to you made his gut churn, bringing something that he didn’t want to admit was jealousy. He also saw the look on your face, the discomfort, and felt his feet carry him over before his mind could think it first.

His hands are still on your waist, even with the stranger gone.

It’s not until Steve’s parents are ready that you leave. They’ve taken advantage of the champagne that sat on trays, free for the taking, as well as the opportunity to talk up their son to many, many people. It seems they’re only proud of him when there’s other people around, and even then, the praise doesn’t hold much weight.

He’s trying his best. At least he’s working. He’s got a girlfriend now. No, he doesn’t host backyard parties while we’re gone anymore.

You wish you could speak up, but you know, with this many people around, it’d cause more harm than good. It’s hard to listen to the people that raised Steve talk about him the way they do. You want so badly to shout in their faces how brilliant he is, no thanks to them. How he has the kindest soul and a sort of midas touch that makes everything shine.

At least, you think he does. You promise yourself to love him better than they ever did, even if it’s in secret.

One memory from the night overpowers the rest, luckily. ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’ played, a slower rendition, and a slow dance ensued. You watched couples split off, and when you looked at Steve, he was already looking at you, a question on his face and a hand outstretched.

You fell into step with him quickly. It wasn’t awkward for a second. One of your hands in his, the other on his shoulder, his on your waist. You swayed together, unknowingly moving closer until you were close enough to rest your head on his chest. And you did.

He rested his head atop of yours and hummed the song softly. You’ll dream about that dance, probably.

Now, you sit in the car with Steve, who’s become the driver. He drops his parents off at his house first, leaving the two of you alone for the drive to yours. He sneaks glances at you at stop signs and red lights, turning back to the road when he thinks he’s been caught.

His mind is full because he’s looking at you in a way he hasn’t before. He sees parts of you that he was blind to before. The shape of your lips, for example. The dip of your spine and the way it feels to hold you. It’s dizzying and warm, confusing and sparkling all at once.

Once he’s pulled up to your house, he offers to walk you to the door. Ever the gentleman. A romantic no matter how much he denies it, you think. He gets misty-eyed when you watch rom-coms, opens doors for you, has bought flowers for nearly all of his dates, as far as you know.

What must it be like to receive flowers from Steve Harrington?

He faces you on your front porch, hands in his pockets, “thank you again for doing this.”

“How many times do I have to tell you it’s okay. I’m happy to help you, Steve. You’re my best friend.” Who I love more than anyone.

“You’re mine, too, honey.”

It’s not the first time he’s called you that. Turns out, it was his default to use in your fake relationship. It is, however, the first time he’s said it when it’s just the two of you. It sounds sweet coming from his lips, sticky. Just like honey itself.

“What time should I be over for dinner tomorrow?” You ask. It’s the last hurdle of the fake dating.

“How ‘bout I come pick you up after I finish work?”

“Yeah, okay, that’d be great, thanks.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, the cold of December biting your skin.

“Here,” Steve notices, of course he does, and he reaches out with his hands, rubbing them up and down your arms to warm you.

“How’re your hands still warm?” You ask.

“I'm magic.”

You smile at that. He has no idea.

He reaches up with one hand to cup your cool cheek, and you nudge your face into his touch. For the warmth, you tell yourself. That’s it. His thumb runs over your skin, once, twice.

“Did I ever tell you that you have a pretty smile?” He says it so quietly you almost miss it. You don’t, though, and there’s a swarm of butterflies in your gut because of it.

“Shut up,” you try to mask your bashfulness.

Then, just like that, his face is close to yours. So close that it looks like he might kiss you. His eyes flick from your mouth up to yours, like he’s unsure of what’s happening while he’s doing it.

You can feel his breath tickling your lips, the ghost of his mouth on yours. Before that can happen, he’s swerving away quickly, planting a kiss on your cheek instead. The one he isn’t holding. His mouth lingers for a second.

“Goodnight,” he whispers against your skin.

“Night,” you say, dazed. And he’s walking away.

Steve’s not at all sure what’s come over him. He wanted to kiss you just then, to tangle his fingers in your hair and kiss you stupid. What the fuck was happening to him?

When you let your eyes flutter shut, your mouth parted slightly, like you’d let him kiss you, like you wanted it, too, he panicked. Couldn't do it.

No, he doesn’t know what just happened, why it did, or why he’s resisting the urge to go back and knock on your door and actually kiss you when you open it. What he does know is that his heart seems to be doing something funny when you’re around, and that your fake relationship has been better than any of his real ones.

He knows he needs to talk to Robin about this.

Steve had to work the next morning—Christmas Eve—which he was actually thankful for. Thankful to get away from his parents, though the comments about his job followed him out the door this morning. Especially thankful because he needs to talk to Robin and sort out the mess of his feelings that has occurred in the last twenty four hours.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted to kiss you. About how his stomach was all twisty when you slow danced with him. There are so many moments playing over in his memory. Not just from yesterday, either.

He remembers the way his stomach would sink when you’d tell him about a date you had or how he’d often reach out a hand to tuck your hair behind your ear, or to wipe something away from the corner of your mouth.

So many things over your friendship that he never thought about are coming back to him and he’s realized he doesn’t act that way with any of his other friends. Only you.

He also realizes that he hasn’t really been pretending with you at all.

“I think I love her,” Steve blurts out while he and Robin are organizing returns, the store luckily empty.

Robin reaches into her pocket, barely fazed, and tosses a handful of confetti at Steve. Some pieces stick to his hair, some to his clothes, most of it at his feet.

“What the hell?” He shakes the flecks out of his hair, “we have to clean that now.”

“I’ve been carrying around confetti for like a year waiting for this to happen!”

“Wait, what?”

“Steve, you’ve been loving her for a long time, hate to break it to you.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” He’s no longer preoccupied with the confetti.

“I was letting you do it on your own time. You’re welcome.”

Steve had only just deduced that he’s in love with you and yet, when he thinks about you, he feels the same way he has for years. He finds it hard to believe that he’s been blind to it for that long, but he has been called an idiot enough in his lifetime for it to make sense.

Then, there’s the fact that you’re not done fake dating yet, that there’s still dinner today to get through and he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to keep himself together.

“What am I gonna do, Robin?”

“You’re gonna tell her how you feel and I will finally know peace.”

“What if she doesn’t feel the same? What if I freak her out?”

“Steve, she looks at you like sun shines from your pores,” she places a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be fine.”

He picks you up after work as promised, his hands holding the wheel a little tighter, his greeting a little louder than normal. You figure he’s just nervous about dinner.

Nobody brings up the almost kiss, and you don’t plan to. Maybe you read things wrong. Maybe he was aiming for your cheek all along. Maybe he’s been thinking about it as much as you have.

It seems that your feelings for Steve are present now more than ever. Impossible to ignore. It might have something to do with the Christmas spirit floating around, the lightness of the holidays. It definitely has something to do with you being Steve’s fake girlfriend.

Because it turns out, he’s an excellent boyfriend, real or not.

He opens doors for you, even if he has to jog ahead of you to do it. He’s always got at least one hand on you, warm and sure. He looks at you with so much care, his brown eyes stuck on you.

It’s all adding up and you feel like your love for him is overflowing, pouring out of you before you can reel it in. You just hope he doesn’t notice that you’re not acting, that you never were.

Walking into Steve’s kitchen, you pause in the doorway, him behind you, “this smells great, Mrs. Harrington.”

Though Steve knows she probably bought most of the stuff and then put it in pots and pans to make it look like she cooked, he agrees, “so great, mom.”

She turns to look at you both from her spot by the stove, “thank you. Oh!” She cuts herself off with a gasp, her gaze drifting above your heads.

Oh no.

“Mistletoe,” she says, pointing.

“Look at that,” you laugh, short and awkward.

“Steve, sweetie, kiss your girlfriend for tradition's sake, won’t you.”

He kisses you on the cheek.

“A real one, son,” his father pipes up from his seat at the table.

Steve finds your gaze, his eyes wide and questioning. Are you okay with this? He’s asking without saying it. You nod, barely there, but you nod and he sees it.

He cups your cheek in his hand, flashes of last night on your porch come to you. He leans in slowly, like he’s waiting for you to stop him. Instead of doing that, you hold his wrist in your hand, squeeze it. Your silent communication.

In a blink, his lips are on yours. Pillowy and almost shy, but he’s kissing you and you feel like you’re floating, your feet off the ground and everything. He pulls away before you can even register the fact that it happened.

Your heartbeat is loud in your ears, your lips still burning with the memory of his.

Steve can't believe he hasn’t kissed you before. You’re soft and you fit together so well, like the final piece of a jigsaw puzzle clicking into place. He’s kicking himself for not doing it last night, when you were alone, when it was real. Next time he kisses you, he thinks, it will be real.

He clears his throat, tearing his eyes away from you, “so, let’s eat.”

Just like that, he’s moving to the table, pulling out a chair for you and kissing the top of your head once you’ve sat down. Already, the extra affection he’s been giving you has been dizzying. Now, it’s dialed way up.

He helps his mom serve the food before he sits down, though all he gets as a thank you is a pat on the cheek. Next to you, you can see Steve’s leg bouncing up and down. You reach out and place a hand above his knee, stilling him and drawing his gaze to yours.

You smile, and you hope it’s enough to say it’s okay, it’s all gonna be fine. He rests his hand on top of yours, fingers laced together.

“So, Steve, have you been looking for jobs?” His father speaks up. The never-ending topic.

“No, dad. I have a job,” Steve doesn’t look up from his plate, pushing mashed potatoes around with his fork.

“Well, a real job, I mean.”

At Steve’s silence, his mom adds, “we just think, especially now that you have a girlfriend to support, you should look for something… better.”

You look up when she says it, eyes wide and hand tensing on Steve’s leg. You don’t understand how they care so much about what he does and so little about how he feels. He likes his job, you know that, and he’s tried to tell them multiple times over the past couple of days.

And still.

It’s impossible for you to sit by and listen to them talk to him the way they do, like he isn’t good enough. Like the only defining thing is his job, which isn’t even a bad one. What defines him is who he is as a person and he’s the best one in your life.

“Why does it matter so much?” You ask.

His parents look at you, surprised to be questioned, it seems. Steve looks at you, too, with something more like astonishment, appreciation.

“I’m sorry,” you continue, “it’s just, you haven’t seen your son in how long? And all you guys keep bringing up is his job, which he’s told you he actually enjoys. Shouldn’t that be enough for you?”

Steve’s world is tinting pink, heart-shaped lenses over his eyes hearing you defend him. Nobody’s ever tried to go against his parents for him, and here you are. Fuck, he loves you.

They’re quiet, and you’re not finished. “Steve is the greatest person I’ve ever met, and that’s no thanks to you. I’ve known him for a long time and not once have I seen you guys around. How can you judge him so much when you don’t even take the time to know him anymore?”

The room is dead quiet. Nothing but the clinking of forks against plates for the rest of the meal. You feel lighter, after saying what you did. Though you’re also terrified that you’ve overstepped, that Steve will be upset with you for causing a scene.

As if sensing your worry, he holds your hand just a bit tighter.

It’s not until after dinner, hidden away in his room, that you talk about what happened. Not the kiss; your outburst.

He shuts his door and you’re already apologizing, “listen, Steve. I'm so sorry if I made things worse, but I couldn’t just let them shit on your job anymore. I couldn’t. You’re my best friend, you know that, and-”

His arms are around you in a blink.

“Thank you,” he breathes into your hair. “Nobody’s ever done anything like that for me. Thank you, honey.”

“Oh,” you blink away your surprise and wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Anytime.”

“You’re really special.”

Your smile spreads, spilling before you can do anything about it. You hide your face in his neck and stay that way until he lets go, a flush in his cheeks and stars in his eyes.

Steve wanted to tell you he loves you right then, but the words seem stuck in his throat. They won’t come up. He wants to be with you for real, and though it happened in a rush, it also didn’t. His brain just needed to catch up to his heart.

He doesn’t say it, but he will. As soon as he can.

“Wanna go watch a movie?” You ask.

“Yeah, okay.”

Movie night. You and him. That’s real.

Steve’s parents seem to have gone out somewhere, the car missing from the driveway. They haven’t left, though. You and Steve checked for the suitcases (they’re sitting, already packed, in their room).

Playing the movie, yet another Christmas pick that Steve couldn’t say no to, you share a blanket. There’s plenty of room on the couch, you’re the only people there, and yet, Steve still tosses an arm over your shoulders and pulls you to lean against his side.

Maybe he’s just doing it in case his parents come home while you’re downstairs. That’s gotta be it.

“Is it bad that I’m sort of relieved they aren’t here right now?” Steve says to you, quiet.

“Not at all. You deserve better than what they give you, Steve.”

“You think so?”

“Are you kidding? I know so.”

He lets his head lean atop of yours, and that’s that.

You want to bring up the kiss, but then again, why would you? It’s not real. It’s not real no matter how much you wish it was, no matter how much it feels that way. You knew going into this that you might end up kissing Steve, you just didn’t know it’d fuck you up so much.

Part of you hopes that mistletoe will appear above your heads yet again, just to be able to feel the way you did when he kissed you. Heart fluttering, stomach twisting, warm all over.

Though Steve’s head feels relaxed, resting on yours, it’s overflowing with thoughts. You, his parents, the way you defended him, how it felt to kiss you, how much he wants to do it again. You. The entire length of the movie, he’s trying to think of a way to tell you he loves you. The best he comes up with is to wing it.

When the screen fades, and the film ends, you remember the gift you’d left in Steve’s room, buried at the bottom of your overnight bag (you decided to sleep over, something you’ve done too many times to count, and head to your place in the morning with Steve). You sit up, only to face him.

“I have something for you. C’mon,” you tug on his hand, leading him all the way to his own bedroom.

“What?”

“Just,” you make him sit down on his bed when you’re in the room, digging through your bag and finding the present you’d wrapped last night. “Here.”

He takes it from your hand slowly, like it’s the most precious thing in the world. He doesn’t open it right away, staring at the red and green patterned wrapping paper and the gold stick-on bow sitting in the middle of it.

“Open it,” you urge, shuffling nervously on your feet.

He shoots you a shy smile before tearing at the paper, revealing a scrapbook of sorts. Flipping through the pages, he finds memories upon memories. Pictures of you and him, of him and Robin, all three of you. Some with the kids or with Eddie. Most of them he doesn’t even remember taking.

And it’s more than just pictures. There’s movie tickets and receipts from random fast food dinners, confetti from a surprise party for Dustin and a piece of a plate Steve broke once.

It’s the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever given him. It reminds him that he does have a family, no blood relation needed.

“Honey,” he says it quietly, his eyes watering ever so slightly. “This is- I don’t even know what to say.”

“I know it’s not much, but I thought you’d like it.”

“No. I love it. It’s perfect, seriously,” he runs his finger over a picture of the two of you, your faces squished together and your smiles absolutely ridiculous. “Best gift ever.”

He means it.

“I had some help with the pictures. Everyone in that book loves you, Steve.”

Everyone in that book. That means you love him, too. He knows that you could mean it platonically, but something about the way you look at him when you say it makes him think that he has to tell you. He has to try.

He’s suddenly very glad he bought you a locket for Christmas, and that he left it unwrapped because of his lack of skills in that department.

“Close your eyes,” he says.

“Steve-”

“Please,” he trades spots with you, sitting you on the edge of his bed, “close your eyes for a minute, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” you shut them tight, placing a hand over them as well, “double closed.”

He rushes to grab the locket from the bottom of one of his drawers, then grabs the tiniest bit of paper and manages to write as small as he can on it, placing the message in the necklace and closing it with a small click.

Steve reaches for the hand that isn’t covering your eyes, opening it up and placing the delicate piece of jewelry in it. “Okay, open.”

You do, glancing down to what rests in your palm. It’s gorgeous, dainty, and the corners of your mouth lift at the sight of it.

“It’s beautiful, Steve. You didn’t have to.”

“It’s a locket,” he says. His head is bent, shy and visibly nervous. “Open it, too.”

Your heartbeat picks up, like you know, subconsciously, that something big is hiding inside despite the small size of the necklace itself. You wedge your fingernail into the gap, pushing the locket open. The note inside makes your stomach drop.

In his messy, rushed writing, the words ‘I love you.’

You look at him, mouth agape and hopes way up. “Steve?”

“I mean it.”

“How-”

“I mean I’m in love with you, and I think I have been for a really, really long time. I guess it took you being my fake girlfriend for me to realize it.”

“You’re not pranking me, are you?”

You’ve spent so long loving him, and convincing yourself that he could never love you the same, that it feels unreal. Hazy, like a dream.

He sits beside you, cupping your face in his hands softly to make you look at him, “I’m not pranking you. I love you.”

“Holy shit. I love you, too. For so long. I never thought I had a chance with you.”

“I think you’re the only person who’s had a real chance with me since I met you, honey.”

Right there, discarded wrapping paper on the floor, the glow of Christmas lights shining through the window, you doubt you’ll ever take that locket off once it’s on.

You can’t stop yourself from rushing forward and kissing him. A small press of your mouth against his at first, then, it’s more. It’s slow and every single thing you’ve ever wanted. His lips move with yours like they’re the only ones that know you.

This time, when you kiss, there’s no question. It’s real and it’s thawing every single worry you ever had about this. This is real, you get to think now.

Steve pulls away only when your breathing gets heavier, only when he absolutely has to. His thumb trails over your cheek, a lover’s touch. He takes the necklace from your hand, puts it on for you and kisses you again when he’s done.

“Do you think this was a Christmas miracle?” You say, teasing.

“I think this was just me being too stupid to notice how I feel about you. I know now, though.”

“Because you needed a fake girlfriend.”

“Because I needed a fake girlfriend,” he confirms. “But, I’d like a real one now.”

“I think I can manage that,” you nod, a lovesick smile on your face.

For once, Steve’s glad his parents came home. He never would have asked you to fake date him if they hadn’t, and he wouldn’t have realized his very real feelings for you, either. So, maybe it is a Christmas miracle, after all.

༄

hey you! if you enjoyed please consider leaving a reblog, it would mean a lot and helps a ton more than you’d think! help support creators like me <3

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ellabsbitch · 1 year ago

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tolerate it

pairing: older/modern abby anderson x reader

warnings: angsty angsty shit, cursing, abby kinda sucks

a/n: she has risen🙏🙏 on god i wrote this in like 2ish days because i’ve been obsessed with taylor swifts tolerate it so that’s what this is based off of <3 if it’s bad don’t tell me okay bye enjoy

wc: 4.6k :p

The unopened wine bottle placed in front of you seems to be taunting you at your loneliness, and the fancy glasses you pulled out from the highest shelf collect dust the longer they sit, empty as the day you got them. The dinner you prepared on the plate across from you sits untouched, the steam completely dissipated. You’re met with silence as you finish the last bite of your food, a part of you still hoping to hear the sound of the study door opening. A moment passes as you consider leaving the food out at the table for her but you decide to take it to her yourself. With a careful push on the table, you stand up with your plate in hand and begin putting the dishes you used while cooking into the sink.

The moon glows in the sky during the time you spend cleaning up, the window over the sink giving you the perfect view to see how late it's gotten. A quick glance at the clock above your stove tells you it's half past nine now. You grab the towel off of the hook next to the sink and use it to wipe your hands after loading the dishwasher. Lastly, you put the leftovers from dinner into the fridge and put the wine up in the cabinet along with the empty glasses. Carefully, you grab the full plate of food and make your way over to the intimidating door across from the kitchen. The sound of you knocking fills the otherwise mute home and after you wait a good moment, you think she might be ignoring you.

Just as you go to walk away, you hear a, “Come in,” from the other side of the door. The knob turns as you twist your hand around it, trying to balance the plate of food in your other hand. There Abby sits, hunched over her large dark oak desk, reading what seems to be a thick packet of paperwork she has to go over for a client. Her hair is pulled back into her signature braid, a few loose strands have fallen, outlining her frowning face. She has yet to change out of her work clothes, though she's lost the tie you recognize from gifting it to her on Christmas the year before, seeing it tossed carelessly on the ground next to her desk. You watch as her eyes scan the documents with her head down in concentration, leaving no room for any distractions, including you as you notice she has yet to acknowledge you. After watching her work in silence for a few minutes, you clear your throat in hopes she will finally take note that you are standing there. At the sudden disruption, your favorite pair of eyes flicker up to where you stay standing with a warm smile, holding out the dinner you prepared for her.

Without a second beat, her eyes fell back down on the papers in front of her, muttering out, “M’not hungry.” The smile adorning your face falls. A quiet sigh escapes your lips, and you walk to the left of her desk, placing the plate next to the documents that seem to captivate all of her attention. Her eyes stay locked onto the papers, even as you stand near. You see the tie out of your peripheral and you go to grab it, hearing the sound of keyboard keys clicking from beside you. When you look back at her, she's now busy typing away on the laptop she takes from home to work. The silence is deafening, other than the constant clicks of the keyboard.

Trying to fill the quiet void, you ask, “Are we still going to Nora’s tomorrow for dinner?” You receive no response other than the constant typing that you begin to grow tired of. A minute passes of your heavy stare analyzing the way she manages to effortlessly ignore your presence.

You try again, “Abs?” No answer, once again. The familiar burning in your eyes that you've grown accustomed to these past few weeks start up again but you fight to hold back the tears of frustration from her dismissive behavior.

“Abby…” you nearly beg once more for her to at least look up at you.

Suddenly, the constant clattering of her fingertips on the keyboard stops, being replaced by the sound of her sighing dramatically. Her right hand comes up to wipe her face in annoyance before she turns to where you stand at her left.

“What, y/n? I’m busy.” she says, tiredly looking across your cowering form. Her eyes drop down to where you play with her tie in your hands before she meets your stare.

“I asked if we are still going to Nora’s for dinner tomorrow,” you quietly say, not wanting to worsen her already bad mood. Her eyes go back to her computer, starting up that annoying typing again. “I’ll take us when I get home from work.” You nod, though you know she isn’t paying attention.

Turning to leave, you pause, “Are you coming to bed soon?” She nods before stopping her typing once again to look up at you, “Don’t wait up.” You sigh, nodding again with a forced smile, leaving her to her work. You carry yourself upstairs to your shared bedroom, changing into your sleep clothes. You glance at the dresser she keeps her night clothes in, deciding to lay a pair out for her. The pajamas lay on her side of the bed as you get under the thick duvet you bought with Abby when you first moved in. Even the blanket can’t hide the coldness you feel without having her next to you. The familiar burn returns, not being able to hold back anymore. You silently cry, missing your Abby who used to never let you go to sleep alone. The same Abby who would never miss one of your homemade dinners. Most importantly, your Abby who would never take you for granted. The tears flow until you feel yourself slowly drifting to sleep, the bed still half-full.

— — — — —

When you wake up the next morning, you feel as cold as the night before. Wiping the sleep and dried tears from your eyes, you turn to where Abby slept, only to find her side empty. The pair of sleep clothes sits untouched in the spot you left them. You immediately go to her study once you get out of bed, finding her in the same hunched over spot you last saw her in.

Unlike how you left her, she’s fallen asleep with her head in the palm of her hand, the stack of paperwork as her cushion. You watch as she breathes in and out, though a bit struggled with the way she is bent over her desk. Her hair is as messy as ever, blonde wisps strung across her freckled face. Somehow she manages to make sleeping on a desk the most peaceful sight.

Quietly, you tiptoe your way to her side, just like the night before. You carefully reach over, placing your hand on her shoulder to lightly shake her awake. “Abs… wake up hun,” you whisper out to her, your other hand coming up to comb back the hair from her face. She groans at the intrusion on her sleep before she slowly opens her blue orbs. For a moment, she seems as at peace as she was before you woke her, however it’s gone in a flash and she’s shaking your hands off of her.

“Fuck, I gotta get ready,” she says, voice still deep from her sleep. You watch her quickly but neatly stuff her paperwork into her work bag and then dart out of the room. Walking after her, you hear the sound of heavy footsteps running upstairs, which you assume means she is going to get ready for work. You decide to make her a quick coffee to help her wake up from what you presume was a long night. The sound of the clock ticking fills the silent kitchen as you wait for the coffee to finish brewing.

Just as it gets finished, you hear those same heavy footsteps rushing down the stairs.

“Abs, wait up!” you say and quickly grab the cup of coffee to give it to her before she leaves. By the time you step out of the kitchen, the front door slams shut with an echo throughout the house. You stand there, facing the front door with a coffee in hand and no one to give it to.

The walk back to the kitchen is just as gut wrenching as the sound of the front door slamming. Not having the energy to deal with what’s left of your sweet gesture, you leave the full cup of coffee on the counter and go back to divulge in your sorrow in the comfort of your bed.

— — — — —

Across the room from you Abby sits at Nora’s living room couch, surrounded by her friends and coworkers. Manny, Owen, and Mel sit on the long couch while Abby and Jessica sit on the smaller couch. She’s laughing at something Jessica tells her. Her eyes are lit up in a way you haven’t seen in weeks.

You stay standing at the entrance to the kitchen with Nora, your favorite of Abby’s friends. When Abby first brought you around her people, Nora was the most friendly and accepting of you. It always intimidated you, coming to these parties with people who are so much older than you, but Nora always made the time pass a lot better.

“How have you been?” Nora asks suddenly, eyeing the way your gaze hasn't left Abby and Jessica the whole time you've been there. You part ways with the two on the couch and turn your attention to your kind friend.

“I’ve been good!” you say, mustering up a smile to sell your awful attempt at lying.

Nora sees right through it. You can tell because she casts a quick glance at Abby and then to you with a look that says ‘seriously?’ Her knowing look has you dropping the eye contact, instead choosing to focus on the way your drink swirls around in the solo cup Nora made for you earlier that night. You can’t accumulate the right words to say, choosing to sigh out instead. All of the sudden, Nora’s pulling you into the kitchen, where no one can hear the two of you.

“You wanna tell me what’s really been going on? I can tell something is off between you two,” she states with her hand coming up to rest on your shoulder in an attempt to console you. With a shake of your head, you try to laugh it off.

“Nothing is going on, Nora! Abby has been the best and I’m so grateful for everything she has done for me. Sure, she's been busy with work recently but that doesn’t mean we aren’t okay!” you respond, though you’re sure she can see past your semi-lie just as she did before. I mean, it is somewhat true. Abby HAS been extremely busy with work, but you two definitely aren’t okay.

“Okay…” Nora pauses in thought for a moment, analyzing the smile you’re forcing and what you’ve told her. “Well I’m always here if you ever want to talk about anything, alright?” You nod your head in response, giving her a genuine smile this time. In the living room, you hear a loud commotion of yells and congratulations being thrown around. Nora nods her head in the direction of the sound, signaling you follow her into the living room. When you emerge from the kitchen, you see people surrounding Abby, giving her their congratulations and highfives. But your eyes latch onto the way Jessica is now leaned into Abby’s side, hugging her a little too intimately in your opinion.

“What’s going on guys?” Nora asks, venturing into the swarm of people. The sound of her voice draws everyone’s attention to her, though, you stay back, watching the scene unfold.

Manny is the first one to say, “Abby got a big promotion!” Nora is quick to congratulate her like everyone else, and the room erupts into bustling conversation.

You continued to hang back, a little hurt that Abby didn’t tell you about the promotion, but you cut it up to that she just wanted to wait to tell everyone together.

That is, until you hear Jessica’s agonizing voice say aloud, “She was so happy when the boss let her know, she came straight to me and told me!”

The chatter didn’t stop but it felt like your heart did. Your head felt cloudy as you watched Abby smile so big at the people around her, not even noticing you standing there, shocked as ever. Nora turns toward you with her eyes conveying all of the words she can’t say. Without a second thought, you dart toward the bathroom down the hallway.

The door locks behind you, leaving you to try to catch your breath from the ache that resonates in your chest. You haven't realized you've started crying until you see the tears dropping into the sink you’re hunched over. Shaky hands reach up in an attempt at wiping the wetness from under your eyes but it's no use, the tears never ending. You meet your reflection in the mirror, the girl staring back at you not someone you can even recognize anymore. She is a girl who has been reduced to watching the person she loves from the sidelines. The girl who used to be the first person her lover would call with good news, cast to the side. The question is, how much more of this heartache can she bare before she fully breaks?

— — — — —

The car ride home is silent, no words spoken between the two of you, only the sound of the engine fills the void. You’re turned towards the window, staring out into the stars that glow in the sky. You notice from the corner of your eye that she keeps glancing at you, but she's yet to say a word. By now, the tears from before have dried up, leaving your puffy eyes and smudged mascara in its wake. As the streets pass by, you try to calculate how much longer until you’re home, so you can bundle up in your bed and sleep the night away.

The sound of Abby clearing her throat knocks you out of your thoughts, casting your gaze in her direction. One hand is on the wheel and the other rests on the middle console between you two, she continues to glance back and forth between you and the road, asking, “Did you have fun?”

Your eyes cut back to the window while responding with a “Mhm.” You hear Abby sigh out, now turning into your neighborhood. The sound of your foot tapping fills the car, anticipating getting out of this confined space with her.

As she pulls into the driveway she says, “Well, are you going to congratulate me on my promotion?” You scoff in return, whipping back to where she sits as she puts the car in park.

“I’m sure Jessica has done enough congratulating for the both of us,” you reply, getting out of the car with a slam of the door. Not long after, you hear the driver's door slam as well and heavy footsteps walking up to follow you up on the porch.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks, with a defensive tone in her words. You shake your head, unlocking the front door, your back still facing her. Once the door is unlocked, you rush inside to remove your shoes at the entryway.

As you lean down to untie your shoes, a hand is placed on your shoulder, pulling you around to face her. Abby stands with her arms crossed in front of her chest, eyebrow furrowed in accusation, “What are you trying to say?” Yet again, you shake your head in disbelief.

“You tell me, Abby. I mean, Jessica was the first to know about the big news and you didn’t even bother to tell me before we went to the party,” you gasp out at her ignorance. It’s her turn to shake her head as she reaches up to rub her temple as if what you’re saying is making her head hurt.

“Jessica is one of my closest friends and coworkers, y/n. Of course I told her first,” she sighs out, meeting your intense gaze once again. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull at her words.

“Over your girlfriend of three years?” She looks down at your reply. You scoff once again, “Well I can certainly see what’s been keeping you at work for so long these past few weeks.”

Something snaps in her at that moment. Her head whips up, the signature braid following suit. You watch at the way her eyebrows furrow even further and her lips come up in a snarl in accordance to the accusation. She walks closer to you, now standing about a foot away so you have to look up to meet the anger she holds in her eyes.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she grits out, losing all composure she previously had. “I work my ass off for you all fucking day and you have the audacity to accuse me of cheating on you? Have you lost your fucking mind?”

You shrink under her angry gaze, dropping your head to stare at your feet. Your shoe half-untied, and her boot clad feet contrast each other greatly. Suddenly, your trance is disrupted by the snap of her fingers.

“No,” she mutters, “Fucking look at me.”

Slowly, you lift your head up to meet her glare, hands beginning to shake. The weight in your chest returns and the cloudiness you felt earlier in your head reappears. You feel the quicken of your heartbeat in your chest at the way she looks at you, no love in sight.

“God forbid I have one night of relaxation with my friends and here you are bitching to me about it,” she says, her hostile tone bringing tears to your eyes. You can’t hide them from her anymore, almost sobbing out. She shakes her head at you with the same glare.

“Now you’re crying like I’m the bad guy. Jesus fucking christ, y/n,” her voice raises, “You fucking suffocate me, you know that?” The sound of your sobs increases causing her to turn away from you. Her hands run up and down her head, trying to distract herself from the sound of you crying. Your knees feel weak as your hurt grows stronger, falling to the ground. You reach your arms around your knees to pull yourself in a ball, feeling your heart ache worsen and worsen. You watch as Abby paces the room, not saying a word.

“Abs, I’m sorr-,” you go to apologize but she cuts you off with a raise of her hand in your direction. She shakes her head once again, not meeting your gaze.

“I don’t want to hear it,” she says, staring at the ground. Her braid hangs next to her face and you look on to see her wiping her own tears away. She straightens up after a moment and turns to the door. Grabbing her jacket, she says, “I’m gonna go. We’ll talk tomorrow.” And with that, she’s gone, leaving you to wallow away in your pain alone.

— — — — —

The sun peeks through the curtains, casting a warm glow across your skin. Your chest still aches from the night before and your head feels like it’s pounding. Abby's side of the bed is left untouched once again, no trace of the blonde coming home last night. The sight makes your heart grow heavier but you gather yourself to the bathroom to freshen up from your slumber.

When you exit the bathroom, you can hear a quiet murmur from outside of the bedroom. You quietly trek to the door and lean into it, delicately pressing your ear to it so that you can hear the conversation. It’s Abby, she's on the phone with someone, you notice.

“I know the luncheon is a big deal, Jess.” you hear her mumble. “I just have to deal with y/n before I leave.” With that, you dart away from the door as your breath grows heavier. A hand reaches up in an attempt to calm the pounding in your chest, though it does little to help. You’re not surprised that once again she’s choosing a work luncheon, or Jessica for that matter, over you. But you won’t sit around waiting for her to choose you anymore.

Once you’ve made up your mind, you rush to the closet you share with Abby, grabbing your suitcase and bringing it to the bed. You scramble around the room, gathering clothes and other important things, stuffing them without care into the suitcase. Remembering your tooth brush and other bathroom items, you hurry to the bathroom to grab those as well, wanting to be packed up by the time Abby comes to check on you.

You finish frantically packing your travel bag and emerge from the bathroom to see Abby opening your bedroom door. She notices you standing there and lets out a small smile, analyzing your expression to try to see how you’re doing.

“Hey sweetheart, you’re awak-” she cuts herself off as she watches you walk with your travel bag to the suitcase that lays open and packed on your shared bed. “W-what are you doing?” Her voice stutters, realizing exactly what you are doing but not wanting to say it.

“I’m leaving,” you state with no room left to argue. You can’t face her like this, knowing that if you did, she would have you falling down to your knees, begging for another chance.

She laughs out almost like she thinks you’re playing a funny prank on her, but when she sees the stone cold expression painted across your delicate features, she knows it’s not a joke. You hear her slowly make her way to where you’re packing at the side of the bed, her breathing so loud that you can hear it from where you stand.

“Baby, just let me-,” she goes to say, however you cut her off before she can finish with a raise of your hand, the same way she did to you last night.

“I don’t want to hear it, Abby.” you say, whipping your head to face her. “I’m sure you have more important things to take care of, like that luncheon ‘Jess’ was talking about.” Your words come out harsh but it‘s nothing compared to the way she spoke to you the night before. The look in her eyes shows regret and her own pain that your actions are causing her but you can’t bring yourself to care as you turn back toward your suitcase to finish zipping it up. You lift the suitcase by the handle and drop it to the floor and begin to walk around her, suitcase in your trail. With each step you take, you hear her exhale shakier than the time before and once you reach the bedroom door, you hear her speak up.

“Can we please just talk about this, baby?” she whispers out to you, your hand pausing on the door. You turn back toward her to find her looking at you with a crestfallen expression, tears now dripping from the corners of her eyes. Her cheeks are stained red, in the way they usually are when she’s anxious from work, but now it’s because of you. You feel yourself begin to nod and you watch as her back straightens for a moment.

“You know what? Yeah, let’s talk,” you say, turning back toward the door to drag your suitcase down to the living room. The sound of her familiar footsteps follow you, you sitting on the couch and her on the chair next to it. You find yourself in deep thought on what you want to say to her, wanting to show her what she’s put you through.. She sits, watching you quietly, anxiously waiting for you to speak first. Her hands run up and down her muscular thighs in an attempt to calm herself down. When you finally gather your thoughts, you pan back to her. Her eyes immediately lock on to yours, and there is a hopefulness in the way she stares back at you.

“You used to be the person who I could go to with all of my problems and you would find a way to make me feel better about them,” you start, watching as her head drops down to stare at the palms of her hands. “Baby-” she tries but you stop her, “Let me finish.” She looks back up at you, small tears forming in her eyes, but she nods nonetheless.

“All of my pain from the past went away whenever you were near, but now it’s like I’m begging to just be in a small portion of your life.” you say, feeling the burning from your eyes start up. “I mean, you don’t even talk to me anymore, Abby.”

She shakes her head at the weight of your words. “I’m so sorry, y/n. I’ve been so busy with work and I guess I assumed you were fine.” At her words, she wraps her arms around her body, trying to console herself. You let out a small cry at that, reaching up to wipe your face.

“Where did you think I was, Abby? When you were out there getting your big promotions and new clients, I was here, waiting for you to come home,” you remind her, tears blurring your vision. She’s now moved to holding her head in her hands, crying harder than before. “I’ve made you my everything, I cook your favorite meals and I clean up after you, but you make me feel like I’m taking up too much space. And when I do try to talk to you, you act as if I’m wasting your time.”

Once again, she's frantically shaking her head and turning her attention back to you. “No, baby, you are never a waste of time and I love when you’re around.” You watch as she falls down on her knees in front of you, begging for you to believe her. “Please, forgive me. I didn’t mean anything I said last night.”

“You take my love for granted, Abby.” you whisper to her, trying to hold back the sobs that are waiting to be unleashed. “I can’t live like this anymore. Not when it feels like you just tolerate my love for you.”

She cries harder as you stand up from your seat on the couch and grab your suitcase. The walk to the front door is hard, trying to block out the sobs from behind you. You pause once you’ve made it and turn back towards her, finding her standing up in the same spot, watching you leave.

You give one last request, “I love you so much, Abby, but until you prove to me that you appreciate me and want me in your life, I won’t be back.” Despite the tears streaming down your face, your expression remains firm and you mean every word you say. You watch as she nods her head and makes her way over to you. With a gentle touch, she lifts her strong hands to cup your face, placing a warm kiss on the top of your head. She tilts your head up to face her blue orbs, glistening with tears, and she says, “I promise I won’t stop until I have you back.”

You nod up at her as she releases her hold on your head, and you turn back to open the door. The crisp breeze hits you as soon as you step outside with your baggage and you turn back one last time.

“Goodbye, Abby.” you say, looking at the tears continuously pouring down her freckled cheeks. Her lips pick up in a small, sad smile as she says, “I’ll see you soon, y/n.”

— — — — —

a/n: i hope you enjoyed even tho it’s sad lmao but i’m thinking about writing a part two where abby tries to get her back (or maybe something else :0) lmk if y’all liked it 🤞

#abby anderson fic #abby x reader #abby anderson angst #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby anderson #angst #the last of us #tlou

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thesirencult · 11 months ago

Text

Pick A Card Reading: Your Soulmate's Letter To Santa About You 💌

PILE 1

Dear Santa,

I want to thank you for my gift from last year, lol. She is amazing.

She makes me happy and puts a smile on my face. Sometimes I smile so hard my cheeks burn.

I've never felt happier in my life.

The way she talks, the way she moves, the way her eyes brighten up when she looks at a puppy or a piece of chocolate pie, they all drive me wild.

I want to be there for her, this Christmas and every other Christmas after this one. I want to buy her a house as a gift and a ring to go with it, maybe even a car? She doesn't like to drive that much but my baby has to have everything she wants.

What she wants she will get. I love her. I adore her. She owns my heart and soul. I'm proudly whipped.

Thank you Santa, I'll take care of her heart ❤️

~ Your soulmate is a provider. They must be a "golden retriever" type of person. I'm hearing "here comes the boy!". When you first meet them you won't expect to fall so hard for them. They have a compatible sense of humour with you.

PILE 2

Hey Santa Baby,

Am I in the naughty list? Great!

This year I put up with no bs and I said "bye" to everything that held me back. I let go of the old stories and left the world behind.

Well, not the whole world, because I met that special someone and they are amazing. I'm writing down my goals for next year and I want one of them to be to deepen my relationship with my soulmate.

I know that they are special, I'm not crazy! I consciously make the choice to commit to them. I feel like we are twin flames and can not wait to explore they way their mind works.

I want to help them unlock their potential. They are a force to be reckoned with and they don't even know it.

Bye, for now!

~ Your FS (yup, they are) is someone who could very well be a motivational speaker or a content creator in that space. They love doing challenges like 75 hard and lighting up other people's fire. They could also be an athlete or ex athlete. You will love this person's practical nature and approach in life. This person is also very spiritual and they probably have heard of Ayahuasca and other popular terms etc. They remind me of a Tech Founder in silicon valley who is I'm woowoo stuff (no worries, I'm the woo woo stuff).

PILE 3

Santa,

I'm ready to move on from this year. My faith is stronger than ever before.

I've wished for so many things in the last few years. Many of them manifested into my life but one thing still hasn't showed up yet and I'm very bumped because of that.

Don't get me wrong. I'm grateful for the life I live and lead. I have almost everything I've wished for but that almost is killing me.

I know she is out there. I've felt her energy before. Since I was a child, whenever I looked up to the stars, I felt this overwhelming connection with someone. This invisible string tagging at my heart at all times. No one has ever made me feel this way and I know that it is unfair to say that for my previous partners but I miss her. I miss someone I've never met. Can you please bring her to me this year? I don't want anything else but my love to come back to me in this lifetime.

I know that the time to meet her is coming. I can feel it, but make it as fast as you can. Please.

I have a lot of goals for the year, especially financial ones. I'll try to focus on them until she comes. Where is she? Where is my love?

I will know she is here when I lay my eyes on her. My heart will speed up and the world as I know it will shutter. Shutter my world darling. I don't care. I made that world by myself and it is time we build our own world together.

P.S. Send loving energy to my soulmate, they need it. Tell them I will buy them their gift myself next year, but for now... This, sadly, has to do.

~ Awww your soulmate is very sweet and... depressed! They don't show it to anyone though but when they are alone at night they drink a glass of wine and think about you. They would want you to be there.

This person is very, stoic and "protected". That give me "military" vibes even if they have nothing to do with the military. This inability to outwardly express their feelings. You will baby them a lot and it is going to look comical but they will love it. Your FS might be older and taller than you and people will laugh when they see how much of a baby they become around your presence. They are very tired of being lonely. Don't get me wrong, this is not someone mopping around, they are just a "closeted" romantic. They hide their true feelings and you will know they love you because they will do acts of service for you or you will catch micro expressions. As soon as you enter in an official relationship they won't be able to keep their hands away from you.

#astrology #tarot reading #tarot #pick a card #pick a pile #pac reading #pick a photo #pick a picture #soulmate #intuitive messages #intuitive readings #pac #psychic #tarotblr #channeled message

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ryusuisloveinterest · 1 year ago

Note

Hi! Since it's almost Christmas, could you write headcanons of how Ryusui, Senku, Stanley and Tsukasa would spend Christmas with their s/o (fem or gn reader) and their family (their children or the reader's family).

Bye and thank you for the 2 last requests !

This is so late I’m so sorry I’ve been very busy with finals! I tried to include reader’s family as best as I could do I hope you enjoy. If it’s not what you were looking for then you can always ask again. Thank you for your patience 💕💕

Ryusui, Senku, Stanley, and Tsukasa’s Christmas with their s/o🎄❤️

Ryusui:

he probably thinks Christmas is all about the presents

So on Christmas Day there will probably be trucks full of gifts, all for you! Please there’s no reason for him to have that much money

BUT-

You have to teach him that there are other things to enjoy other than just a pile of presents

The first time he watched a Christmas movie with you and your is DEFINITELY a core memory for him

Your matching pajamas, the way you snuggle into him and sharing the hot chocolate you prepared, the echo of your laugh filling his ears, and at the very end how you kiss him and thank him for spending Christmas with you

He completely melts

He’s so in love, he just wants moments with you like this all the time.

The only Christmases he remembers are just his dad and uncle basically throwing him into a room full of gifts and leaving for a Christmas vacation somewhere

So having genuine time with you and your family and sharing your love with each other makes him so happy he might even tear up a bit my poor baby😭

Now it’s tradition for the both of you to do something like that every year❤️

Senku:

He spends it in the lab 💀

You have to drag him out of there

You have to BEG him to back cookies with you

“Come on Senku! Please! It’s like chemistry, we have to mix a bunch of stuff together!”

After 30 minutes of begging he finally caved

Of course Senku knows all the perfect measurements to everything so the only thing you really had to do was mix the ingredients together

Your mom and dad did keep him busy with random conversations though

In the living room you can hear them whispering about something but you don’t know what

The cookies tasted great!

After you both said goodbye to your family and your mom hugged the crap outta him you both headed back home.

“You don’t have to stay, Senku. I’m ok with you going back to the lab. I just wanted to spend time with you…”

And with that he leaves-

You sit in the living room, bummed out that Senku left again

THEN

Senku comes back with a small box and a huge blush

“Here…”

You were super shocked when you opened it up

“Senku…this ring, it’s platinum right? You didn’t really…”

“It’s what the old man would’ve wanted. And…it’s what I want too…”

Was he really..?

You started to cry

Senku didn’t know what to do

You just held each other and told each other how much you loved one another, excited about the future with each other

Stanley:

Stanley was on a mission during Christmas

So, Xeno invited you and your family to a Christmas party he and his colleagues were hosting

You really didn’t want to go, especially since you wouldn’t know anyone and Stanley wasn’t with you

But Xeno was still your friend so you decided to show up for him

You and your relatives stand there awkwardly in one of the door frames as Xeno and his colleagues talk about whatever project they were working on

You dad and mom go find some of the snacks and your siblings (if you have any) go causing trouble somewhere

There you were by yourself in the corner

“You look lonely over here under the mistletoe Miss. May i accompany you?”

You knew that voice

You look up to see your boyfriend

“Stanley!”

You practically jump on him, wrapping your small arms around his much bigger body

He pets your hair, then lifts your chin

“We’re still under the mistletoe.”

You smile at his cheesy gesture something he doesn’t normally do

You both lean closer together and kiss, desperately clinging to each other like you’re both afraid to let go

“Oh! Is this your boyfriend (y/n)?”

Your lips immediately leave Stanley’s as you see your whole family just staring at you and Stanley under the mistletoe

You face turns red instantly causing Stanley to laugh

He sticks his hand out for your family

“My name is Stanley Snyder. It’s an honor to finally meet you all.”

Tsukasa

You had a gingerbread house competition

Your mother was the judge

You and Mirai were a team

Tsukasa and your dad were the other

Tsukasa was struggling making the designs in the roof

Your dad couldn’t get the gum drops to stick

But you and Mirai had a great time with the gumdrops and candy canes, sprinkling them everywhere!

After your major victory Mirai wanted to play with her dolls

So you and Tsukasa sat on the couch, snuggling up next to each other while your mom kept Mirai entertained

“Do you want kids?”

Your head pops up with the sudden question

He locks his eyes with yours, patiently waiting for your response

A soft smile grows on your face

“Of course I do!”

This leaves Tsukasa heart-struck

He kisses your forehead, his favorite way of showing his love for you

You can hear Mirai’s ewws, making both of you laugh

“No sex before marriage!” Your dad yells from the kitchen

“Dad!”

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the-offside-rule · 1 year ago

Text

Lando Norris (McLaren) - Dress Up

Day 8 of Christmas

“Please, don’t make me wear this.” Lando mumbled. “Oh come on! Liam is gonna love this.” Y/n grinned as she adjusted the beard on her boyfriend's face. “He’s gonna know it’s me.” Lando protested. “Hes going to me too excited to tell. All you have to do is come in, and let him sit on your lap.” Y/n explained the plan. “You can sit on my lap.” Lando winked as she just stared back at him in an annoyed fashion. “You’re no fun.” He muttered, letting her fix the minor details on his Santa suit. It was a drunk idea of his to buy a Santa suit to surprise Y/n's nephew. The plan was the drive into the driveway in his road car, then hop out with presents and stuff for the kid. The couple completely forgot about it until the suit arrived to their home a few days ago.

"He's gonna be home with mum any minute, so just go along with it!" Lando's hands dropped to Y/n's waist as she fixed his beard. "Don't try anything." Y/n warned. "I'm not doing anything." He replied, knowing damn well he was far from innocent. "Babe, get your hands off now." She chuckled. "But when I'm not doing anything, why should I?" She looked up slightly and was met with his adoring eyes. "Don't look at me with those eyes." She said. "What eyes?" He chuckled, leaning in ever so close. "Lando. They're bound to come back any second, now." He grinned. "Just one kiss." Y/n couldn't help but give in. Her arms flung around his neck and closed the gap between them, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. It was all going fine....that was until-

"Y/n!" Y/n and Lando jumped away from eachother from the sudden voice. Her mum stood in the doorway holding various bags while Liam stood excitedly by her side. "Woah! Y/n, you kissed Santa!" Liam said running towards them. "No, I- Liam I would never! I'm with Lando, remember?" Y/n tried to convince him he hadn't saw her kiss Santa, but he did and that was that. "Nana saw it too!" He said gleaming with joy. "No, she didn't!"

"I wish I didn't." Her mum mumbled. Y/n shot her a look. "Come on, let's just meet him. How's that sound?" Lando nailed the Santa look. He nailed everything, for the whole 20 minutes he was there. "I have to go now, Liam." Lando said in a deeper voice. "But, what is your biggest wish?" Liam thought for a moment before he pulled Lando down towards him and whispered into his ear. Lando looked up to Y/n, almost shocked before smiling. "I'll work my magic and I'll make sure it happens." He replied, patting him on the head. "Bye Santa!" Liam grinned, hugging the big man before he left out the front door and quickly running by the side as to not let Liam see.

As Y/n's mother settled down her grandson, Y/n snuck out the back to help Lando sneak back inside. She opened the shed door and there stood Lando taking his beard off. "Hello, Santa." Y/n smiled. "Have you been naughty or nice?" He grinned. Y/n rolled her eyes and grabbed him by the bright red suit. "Come on, before you freeze to death." After carefully sneaking him back in, Lando began changing. "So, I think you should wear some "Do you wanna help me out of it?" Lando asked in a suggestive tone. "My whole family is do better!" Y/n replied, slapping his chest playfully and walking away. "You love me really!" Lando called out. "I did cheat on you with Santa, though. Didn't I?"

As Christmas day finally came, the family all sat by Lando and Y/n's tree to open the gifts. Both sides of the family were there which was different, but a nice change. Liam and Landos niece Mila got to open their gifts first before everyone else did too. Y/n took the moment in. They should bring both families over to Monaco more often in all honesty. It's just too magical. "Did you get my present yet?" Lando whispered. Y/n smiled and shook her head. "No, I don't think so." Lando bent down u der the tree, searching frantically for his gift before pulling out a small wrapped box and handing it to her. "What's this? Earrings?" Y/n smiled as she tore the wrapping off the small parcel Lando had given her. "Just open it." He replied.

Y/n looked at the black box with gold writing on it.

Lando & Y/n

Est. 2019

She smiled at Lando. It was probably a necklace with a photo of them inside it. "Well, open it." Her mum egged her on, holding her phone out. Y/n turned to see Lando's mum doing the exact same thing. She opened the box, rather confused at the fuss before she fully understood. There in the velvet inside casing was a beautiful and dainty diamond ring, with Lando and Y/n's initials and anniversary date printed on the inside of the band. She looked over to Lando, who shifted from his seat and down to one knee. Her hands covered her mouth.

"Y/n, I love you so much. And we have been on one hell of a ride together so I wanted this Christmas to be our most special and ask you to be my wife by the next, if you'll accept." Lando said, taking the box into his hand. "Of course, you muppet!" Y/n replied through tears. As Lando placed the ring on her finger, their families rejoiced and the couple kissed. Their first of many kisses an fiancées.

Later on whilst the family were getting ready for Christmas dinner, Lando helped Y/n get ready in their room when a question that had been bugging Y/n all day came up. "Lando?" She asked. Lando looked up from his watch. "Yes, my love?" She smiled at his pet name for her. "Why did you ask me today?" Lando grinned and walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her and nuzzling jnto her neck. "Let's just say, a certain little boy had a dream of making Lando Norris his Uncle officially."

#f1 blurb #f1 imagine #f1 oneshot #f1 oneshots #lando norris one shot #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris imagines #lando norris x you #lando norris x oc #lando norris x y/n #lando norris #christmas fanfic #christmas fic #christmas

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itsangelll · 9 months ago

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𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐦 𝐤𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐳 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 <𝟑

I decided to do this cause I put this in my notes ages ago and I finally found them so THANK GOD enjoy cuties mwah <3

sfw!!!

- this man can not go without kissing you for a minute like “Schatzzzz please just one kiss.” this man will beg you (I can’t lie I’d be kissing him all day.)

-THIS MAN WILL GET THE MOST CUTE GIFTS FOR YOU ON YOUR BIRTHDAY like he will go all out which I would find adorable (I crave him it’s not fair atp)

-Would wanna go clothes shopping with you and pick out clothes for you and tell you how beautiful you look like awh.

-if you were walking with him and you fell I know for a damn fact he would be laughing his ass off like 🤨 why are you laughing help me up?? after he would ask if your okay but would bring it up with the band I know he would.

-NOW IMAGINE THIS I know he would do that stupid prank where it looks like he would propose but he’s just tying his shoe lace he’d be like “Meine Liebe there’s something I have to tell you” then gets down on one knee you get all excited then he proceeds to tie his shoe lace. Excuse you 🙄

- would get matching clothes with you

-very clingy

-if you asked him to teach you how to play the guitar he would get all excited and have you sit on his lap to teach you LIKE UM DO THAT WITH ME PLEASE.

-if you were ever overthinking he’d hold you tight and whisper such sweet things to you telling you how much he loves you

-he would get all excited if you got him something he would be like a little kid on Christmas

-if you were ever feeling down he would make silly faces just to see you smile

-adores your personality like he just loves you so so much

NSFW!

-now if you ever wore a slit dress you guys would have a quickie (ifykyk 😭)

-I know for fact this guy would degrade you so much if a concert went bad to take out his anger on you but he would praise you while doing so “you’re such a whore but your taking me so good schatz” (say that to me.)

-THIS GUY WOULD MAKE YOU LOOK IN A MIRROR WHILE DOING IT I mean personally I wouldn’t mind

-he would buy you every piece of lingerie in the store and if you wore red that man would go weak it would be a long night I know it

-would not be afraid about saying something dirty about you in a interview just to see you get all worked up

-he would tease the fuck out of you 🙄

-I think he’s definitely a receiver but if you ever wanted him to give you head he would devour you whole until your seeing stars (please please do that with me.)

-I know he would do that knee thing like fuck me that’s hot.

-HE WOULD GO KNUCKLE DEEP I KNOW.

-car sex no questions at all.

-I definitely know he’d want you to give you a blowjob while he’s driving that man would shove your head down so hard till you gag.

-he would give you hickeys all over you

-definitely would have marks on your waist.

-he likes having rough sex it’s just I know it.

-loves squeezing your thighs

A/n: I feel like I’ve posted so much I’m proud I hope you guys enjoyed mwah bye bye <33

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x reader #tom kaulitz

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toomuchracket · 1 year ago

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all i want for christmas (birthday party!matty x reader fluff)

back from the dead (a depressive episode) with a fluffy pre-dating fic that's honestly longer than it needs to be. whatever. it's christmas. this fic is also part of christmas75/twelve days of christmas, organised and curated by my lovely friend @abiiors. hope you all enjoy <3

wednesday, 3:34am

as soon as the “email sent” pop-up appears, you feebly close your laptop and lay your head on the desk, ready to finally give in to the sleep that's been edging ever closer to your eyelids for the past hour. but before you get the chance, your phone buzzes with an incoming notification, the vibrations rattling through the wood of the desk and into your skull.

swearing, your voice scratchy with underuse, you open one eye and tilt the screen towards you - the name it bears above the unread text makes you shoot back up to a sitting position, and knocks all traces of grumpiness and tiredness from your brain and body.

matty.

pointedly ignoring the butterflies in your stomach when you see he's opened his message with hi, darling, you continue reading: hope you're alright, and that the new book isn't kicking your arse too much. saw a group of kids in barnes & noble raving about your last one earlier. would've joined them if i wasn't in a hurry, to be honest. fucking brilliant. anyway, i know it's late, but i had to text you before i forgot. can you give me a call when you get this, darling? flying home early tomorrow so i'll be up from about… 8am your time? i've got a favour to ask you. nothing crazy, though, and nothing urgent. but yeah, just phone me when you can. thanks, darling. miss you, talk to you soon. bye! X

just as you're reeling from the three darlings and the kiss and the miss you, another text from your best friend comes in, accompanied by a photo: also look at who you were next to on this display. i got so excited. my three favourites!

you laugh out loud, a combination of shock at the fact your collection is between slouching towards bethlehem and consider the lobster and adoration at matty's beaming face next to it all. fuck, he's cute.

so cute. enough for you to forget that it’s 3 o'clock in the morning, and happily pick up your phone and dial his number - you've spent so much time poring over your message threads that you know it off by heart - as if it was mid-afternoon. you kick your legs back and forth as the call connects, smiling to yourself at the thought of hearing his voice for the first time in over a month.

luckily, you don't have long to wait; your heart flutters as he picks up on the second ring, voice thick in the way it only goes when he's smoking. “you know, you didn't have to call me right away, darling. thought you'd have been asleep. but hiya!”

“hi, matty,” you smile. “and come on, it's deadline week, of course my sleep schedule is fucked. questioning why i'm not asleep, christ, thought you knew me better than that.”

he takes your teasing in good faith. “i do, darling, i do know you,” matty's voice is soft, his tone as tender as you've ever heard it. it's driving you batshit insane. “but you know me. i just want to make sure you're not stressing yourself out about your work too much. rather have my best friend's wellbeing intact than another book, even though your writing is my favourite. speaking of, that display! i'm recreating it at home. genuinely. s'amazing.”

you can feel your cheeks burning. “i can't even comprehend that display right now, m'too tired. but i’ll text you my thoughts once they make sense. and i'm alright, matty, honest. please don't worry about me, lovely.”

“that'll never happen, and you know it.”

“god, you're obstinate. but thanks. i appreciate the care.”

“even when you're insulting me, you're so eloquent. you've got a gift,” matty laughs down the phone. “how's deadline week going, anyway?”

“it's done. just sent the final draft away for edits. s'why i'm still up, actually.”

“really? congrats, darling!” the genuine happiness in his tone makes your heart hurt. “god, i wish i was home now, so we could go out and celebrate.”

“me too. but we'll see each other this weekend for early christmas dinner, yeah?”

“that's what i wanted to talk to you about, actually. you know those roast potatoes you made last year?”

“you mean the ones you and alexa fought over the last spoonful of?” you laugh, remembering the two of them racing to the tiny kitchen in your flat to try and nab them.

“m'still fucking fuming that she got them. bitch,” matty grumbles, then giggles. “nah, she's like my sister, i love her. but yeah, those potatoes. can i have the recipe for them, please?”

you suck air in through your teeth. “well… no. that’s a family secret, lovely. m'sorry.”

“oh,” matty sounds so genuinely deflated that you could cry - you seldom see him upset, but the thought of his pretty face all sad makes you feel incredibly guilty. “that's alright, darling, i understand. my nana was the same with her soup recipes. you'd have to marry me if you wanted them.”

you hum out a laugh, brain suddenly scrambled at the thought of walking down the aisle towards him. god. get a grip!

scrunching your eyes closed and blinking them open again - a tried and tested way to stop yourself going off on tangents - an idea pops into your head, so obvious that you’re not sure why you haven't suggested it already. “well, in lieu of us getting hitched within the next week,” you smile, enjoying the way matty laughs softly at the other end of the line. “i could come over early to yours and make the potatoes for you, if you'd like?”

“i quite like the sound of the first option, to be honest…”

what the fuck?! you have to clap a hand over your mouth to stop a gasp. or a scream. perhaps even a moan.

“...but i'm more than happy with the second one. thank you, darling,” matty's smile is as audible as his relief. “you're a lifesaver and a legend. come over whenever on sunday, yeah? wake me up if you have to. actually, no, i'll pick you up. s'the least i could do to thank you. and it means we get to spend even more time together.”

“that sounds nice,” you all but sigh into your phone. “i'm excited to see everyone.”

mostly you, though.

“as am i, darling,” matty yawns. it's the cutest sound you've ever heard. for fuck's sake. “m'not bored talking to you, honest, just tired. this is actually the most fun i've had in weeks, this phone call.”

you want to assume he's lying out of politeness, but something in your brain tells you he's being sincere; it's not like you can say anything to dispute him, either, given it's also the most fun you've had in weeks. “matty, you’re in new york. at christmas time.”

“yeah, alone! s'boring. macaulay culkin made it seem a lot more fun when i was a kid,” matty snorts. “plus, i saw you the last time i was here. any trip you're not on is just automatically a bad one.”

christ, what is with him today? “flatterer,” you smirk, before grimacing and continuing to talk. “but i assume you've not been… totally alone, the whole time? i don't like the thought of that being the case.”

you hope to god he's too tired to pick up on your actual meaning; the sight of him with another girl isn’t unfamiliar to you, but that isn’t to say you don't mind it. quite the opposite, in fact.

thank christ, he misses it. “no, i’ve been good. slept by myself every night,” he laughs.

you giggle, relieved. “really? wow.”

“why are you surprised at that?”

“you're you, matty.”

“yeah, well, i'm going through a metamorphosis-”

“kafkaesque of you.”

“knew that one was coming as soon as i said it,” matty sighs. “but in all seriousness, in the past couple of months, i've just… fully realised what i want in life, you know? and it's not what i used to want, or get up to.”

interesting. “well, that's good. m'happy for you, lovely.”

“yeah, thanks. and what about you, miss? you, um, bringing anyone to christmas dinner?”

you snort. “obvs not.”

matty hums. “why'd you say it like that?”

“like what?”

“like,” he pauses, trying to find the words. you can just picture the shape of his eyebrows as he does. “derisively. as if it's a silly question.”

“because it is a silly question, matty.”

“is it?”

“yeah,” you giggle. “i wouldn't even have time for a one night stand, let alone a relationship. not that there's anyone particularly interested, right now, anyway.”

“oh, there is,” comes the reply. “there really is.”

“if you say so.”

“believe me, darling, people want you. they're down bad. totally in love with you.”

“oh, you are so high right now, aren't you?”

“i mean, yeah. but i'm right!”

“uh huh,” you smirk. “i think you need your bed, matty.”

“pot, kettle.”

“alright, point taken,” you peel yourself off your chair, joints cracking slightly worryingly as you stand and pad across the flat to your room. “i'm going there now.”

matty sighs happily. “good. but send me a selfie as proof. accountability and all.”

it's an innocent enough ask, and not a totally unprecedented one - in the times where your self-neglect was at its worst, you would send matty and your other friends selfies so they could make sure you were alright - but the concept of sending matty a late-night pic from your bed does something quite odd to your brain and stomach.

still, you’ll oblige. but will he?

matty giggles when you ask him as much. “yeah, i'll send you one in return. i'm all about reciprocation, me.”

the words leave your mouth before you can stop them. “good to know.”

he laughs, that stupid hyena cackle of his that might be your favourite sound in the world. “christ, i've missed you.”

“it's reciprocated,” you smile, switching your phone between hands as you get into bed and hissing quietly at how cold the sheets are. “alright, i'm in my bed. and you should be too.”

“you're right, i should be,” matty says. his voice is lower than you've ever heard it, the rasp of his cigarettes prominent; despite yourself, it goes straight between your legs. “soon, though, darling. promise.”

“good,” your voice comes out breathier than expected, a setting you haven't used in some time. “i think we both need it.”

“yeah, i think we do, too,” matty yawns again, following it up with a sigh. “right. i'm going to hang up now, darling. i really don't want to, but i feel like if i don't then one of us is gonna fall asleep before we can exchange pics. and i can't be having that, honestly. miss looking at you.”

you giggle, rolling onto your stomach and kicking your legs back and forth. jesus christ, what is this man doing to you? “don't get too excited, i look like shit.”

well, you've looked worse lately - you at least showered and clipped your hair up and put on a clean outfit today. but still, far less glamorous than matty's used to.

or not - “i've literally held your hair back while you yoshed in a plant pot, darling, i think you're alright.”

“and on that note, let's wrap it up,” you laugh, rolling back to lie down. “what time should i be ready for on sunday?”

“oh, um… half twelve? that should be enough time to get everything sorted.”

“half twelve it is,” you yawn. “ok. bedtime. have a safe flight, lovely. talk soon?”

“‘course. don't forget that selfie, by the way. eagerly awaiting it.”

“et toi. lots of love, see you soon.”

“back at you, darling. goodnight.”

the call ends. you close your eyes and, for the briefest of moments, let yourself dwell on the fact your best friend - who, let's be honest, you have a bit of a crush on - shamelessly flirted with you to the point of bordering on phone sex, and let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, there's a chance he might feel the same way you do.

but it's matty. sweet, cheeky, affectionate matty, who'd find a way to flirt with a brick wall if he was bored enough. because that's what he is, really - bored, high, alone on a phone call with a girl late at night. it's just a natural thing for him to do in those circumstances. you're not special, you were just… there.

that notion stings more than you expected. but you persevere, opening your camera and fixing your glasses. he's your best friend, after all, and he asked you to do this to make sure you were alright. nothing more than that.

still, as you close your eyes and smile, you hold the phone with both hands so your boobs push ever so slightly more together. just in case. then you caption the pic as requested, and hit send.

matty’s reply buzzes in a few seconds later, eliciting a shocked giggle from your lips: fucking love it when you wear your glasses. a follow-up appears in another few seconds: if that's you looking like shit… you're defo the sexiest bit of shit i've ever seen.

fuck him for getting you flustered like this. honestly, fuck him.

and, oh, when he sends a selfie in return, shirtless in low light, hair in its natural state, one hand behind his head… don't you want to do just that?

you bite your lip as you compose your response: my condolences to the single girls in nyc who are missing out on you looking like that tonight.

matty: i know, poor them lol. but their loss is one specific single girl in london’s gain, though, yeah?

you: fuck yeah

matty: you crack me up

matty: miss you sm

matty: anyway, sweet dreams. see you in them, i hope

matty: but see you irl on sunday lol xx

you: miss you too, lovely. goodnight xx

***

sunday, 12:56pm

a mass of black fur rams into your legs as soon as you step through matty's front door. you laugh, dropping your bags and crouching to pet an over-excited mayhem, while matty grumbles behind you. “at least let her get in the house, mayhem, christ!”

“don't listen to him,” you coo at the dog, nuzzling into you quite adorably. “i'm just as happy to see you as you are to see me, baby. got a present for you and everything.”

“you did not buy the dog a christmas present,” matty groans, gently pulling the coat from your shoulders.

“of course i did. got you one as well.”

“thought we agreed we weren't doing presents this year?”

“well, i'm a dirty liar,” you brush down your dress and turn to face matty, smiling. “that, and i saw something when i was in glasgow that i couldn't resist getting you.”

matty's eyes widen near-imperceptibly as he takes in the dark red fabric clinging to you like a second skin, raking up and down your body almost too quickly for you to clock.

almost. you bite back a smirk. got him!

much to your chagrin, though, he recovers quickly and turns the tables. “well, it's difficult to keep control when you see something… attractive,” he murmurs, gaze lifting to meet yours. “i like that dress, darling, you look gorgeous. and,” his tone and face brighten. “i actually got you a gift, too.”

the revelation is just as shocking as the way he looked at you is. “you did?”

“we're both dirty liars, it seems,” matty grins. he nods towards the kitchen. “make yourself comfortable in there, darling, and i'll go and get it. only be two minutes, promise, and then i'll help you find whatever you need, yeah?”

“you've not done a mad rearranging of your kitchen cupboards since the last time we all came over for dinner, have you?”

“nah.”

you wave nonchalantly. “then i'm good, i know where everything i need is.”

matty smiles down at you - there's an expression in his eyes that you can't quite name - and gently nudges you down the hall. his hand is light against your back, but it sends shockwaves through your nervous system regardless. “alright. give me a shout if you need anything, though, please.”

“i will, lovely,” you smile back just as sweetly. “want me to put some christmas music on? get into the festive spirit and all?”

“anything but band aid.”

you laugh, and matty joins in. “i was thinking more sinatra, anyway.”

“perfect.”

and that's exactly how he'd describe the scene in the kitchen he walks into thirty minutes later. the room is warm, made cosy by the oven that's been slow-cooking turkey for a little while now, soundtracked by frank crooning out have yourself a merry little christmas. mayhem snoozes in his bed by the massive window, which shows snow dusting over the garden like icing sugar on a cake, and then there's you. still keeping an eye on the potatoes bubbling on the hob, you sway gently to the music as you pour dried spices and seasonings into a bowl, your face as content as matty feels.

it breaks into a big smile when you see him in the doorway, white dress shirt hugging his chest quite deliciously. “oh! you got changed. i like it.”

“had to keep up with you, didn't i?” matty smiles, wandering into the room and laying a gift bag on the counter. he peers into the pan of potatoes. “thank you for doing this, by the way, darling. means a lot.”

he opens his arms, and you slot into them before they wrap around you tightly, resting your chin on matty's shoulder and smiling. “no one else i'd do it for.”

matty hums happily. “god, i've missed you. you're always a total peach to me. makes me feel good.”

“a peach? you've spent too much time stateside, matty,” you giggle, pulling away just enough to look at him. “thank god you're home for a bit. but thank you, lovely, i'll take the compliment.”

“for once, you'll take one,” matty teases. his face turns slightly more solemn. “yeah, m'glad to be home. it's a shame you won't be at any of the UK shows, though. i always like them more when you're there.”

“well, when hollywood calls, you have to answer,” you shrug, then smirk. “you just want me at the shows so i'll praise your narrative structuring again, don't you?”

matty's eyes close in bliss. “don’t tease, you literally barrelling towards me backstage screaming about midpoints and how proud of me you were is genuinely the best thing that's ever happened to me.”

“oh, shush,” you roll your eyes, suddenly shy.

“i'm serious! it'd be like joan telling you she thought one of your sentences had perfect structure. a writing compliment from you is a gift, darling.”

“well… thank you. and speaking of gifts,” you - with great reluctance - pull away from matty, bending down to grab a wrapped box from your bag. “here. joyeux noël.”

your best friend takes the present from you, murmuring a “thank you” and smiling at the tag addressed to him. he holds it to his ear and shakes the box, eyebrows raising at the slight rattle.

sighing, you roll your eyes. “just open it, matty.”

his face lights up. “alright.”

after carefully peeling the tag from the box and placing it in his pocket, matty tears through the paper and lifts the lid off. he squints at the sides of the smaller plastic boxes inside, before realisation hits and his jaw drops. “this is…”

“cassette recordings of ten blue nile gigs throughout the eighties and nineties, in their entirety,” you finish, smiling. “thought you'd like them.”

“like them? darling, this is- i don't even know what to say, other than thank you,” matty looks at you, awed, and pulls you into another tight hug. “how the fuck did you manage to get them?”

“the guy in one of the record shops i went into in glasgow was selling them. they're his recordings,” you say, half into matty’s neck. “and he'd digitised them, so he didn't need the tapes anymore, and he wanted them to go to someone who'd genuinely use them. remembered you saying you'd bought a tape deck, and i know how much you love that band, so… i kinda had to buy them.”

matty turns his head and presses a kiss onto your temple; while you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from screaming in delight, he speaks again. “you really are one of the best people i know. christ, i'm so overwhelmed by how perfect that present is. i need a drink,” he pulls away and heads to the fridge. “d’you fancy some champagne, darling, before i give you your gift? you might need it, actually.”

“that's not ominous at all,” you quip, then nod. “pour me a glass while i sort the potatoes and get them in the oven, please.”

matty nods, pulling out a bottle of perrier and grabbing glasses to take over to the table, while you drain and pat-dry the potatoes. he hums along to the background music while he fiddles around with the foil covering the champagne cork; you smile, eyes flicking up periodically to look at his cutely confused face, then back down to the food you're currently buttering and seasoning. it's incredibly domestic, a cosy little christmas dinner tableau, so much so that it hurts your heart to think that life isn't always like this for you and matty. and mayhem, obvs, curled up so adorably in his bed that you have to resist awwwwing every time you look at him.

still, it's hard to be melancholy when matty's irritation at the bottle foil is so amusing. you giggle at his grumbling, turning around to look at him scowl once the potatoes are safely in the oven. “need a hand?”

“no thanks, darling, i'm- ok, yeah, please,” matty sighs, leaning back in his chair and stretching. you pretend not to notice the way his shirt rides up and exposes his hip tattoo. “can't find the tab on the foil.”

“hmm, let me see,” you wander to the table and sit beside matty, moving your chair closer to him. well, to the bottle. “ah - that's because there isn't one.”

“well that's fucking stupid. how are you meant to open it?”

you smile, swiping your index nail across the foil; it slices clean through, and you're able to peel the covering off the cork. “like that. these aren't just for aesthetic purposes, you know.”

“that was actually quite hot. let me see them?” matty gently takes your hand in both of his own, admiring the abstract line pattern on your fingernails, tenderly rubbing his thumbs over the gel. “yeah, definitely hot. let me open the champagne from here though, darling, yeah? can't risk these pretty nails being damaged.”

you bite the inside of your cheek again; this time, to stop from giggling flirtily. “have at it, lovely.”

“i like it when you call me that,” matty smiles, grabbing the neck of the bottle in one hand and the cork in the other, and slowly twisting. “makes me feel good.”

“well, you are lovely,” you smile back. “and opening that champagne quite effectively, i must say.”

“learnt from the best,” matty winks. “you're right, though, it's a lot less messy. although i don't mind that, sometimes. s'fun.”

“yeah, me too,” you smirk, glad to be sitting down and not having to worry about your legs caving in at matty and his words. “kinda fun getting it all over your hand, isn't it?”

matty's eyes widen again, and the cork breaks free with a loud pop; before either of you can cringe at or make light of it, though, mayhem jolts awake with a yelp at the sound, and quickly runs over to sit at your feet.

you coo at him, reaching down to scratch his sweet head and reassure him (and berate his dad). “aww, mayhem. you scared the baby, matty! look at him, he's terrified! s'ok, sweetheart, i'll keep you safe. come on, you can have your christmas present to cheer you up.”

matty rolls his eyes, but he can't keep the smile from his face as he watches his dog eagerly follow you to your bag. “you know, mayhem, you're such a sap, honestly.”

“oi, don't talk about my friend like that,” you frown, face lighting up as you find what you're looking for in your bag. “aha! here you go, mayhem. merry christmas.”

the dog takes the guitar-shaped dog toy with relish, plodding back over to his bed and playing with it contentedly. matty leans to the side to look at mayhem's gift, bursting into laughter when he sees it. “fucking brilliant. that'll be his new favourite, by the way. but you're his favourite, so it checks out, i s'pose.”

“really?”

“oh, he loves you. he never gets so excited to see anyone else,” matty nods, pouring champagne and sliding a glass to you. “bet he'd enjoy seeing more of you. as would i, actually - i really like spending time with you, darling.”

you nod, touched. “so do i,” you raise a glass. “to seeing more of each other next year.”

matty clinks his glass off yours, repeating your words with a soft smile. you take a sip of your respective drinks, humming in satisfaction as the champagne hits your lips. you nod again as you swallow. “christ, that's good.”

“agreed. and now that we've had a drink,” matty puts his glass down, then leans back in his chair and reaches to grab your gift from the counter. he presents it to you with a grin. “merry christmas, darling. save the box til last, yeah?”

“ok. thank you,” you smile sheepishly, opening the bag and pulling out its contents: a notebook, with a pen tucked into the front cover, a book, and a thin, a4-size box. laying them on the table, you inspect each facet of the present in turn, starting with the notebook. “a parker pen? matty, this is beautiful.”

“that one's also kinda a congratulations gift for getting your manuscript in. there's a little message on the inside, too,” comes his reply.

you flick your gaze up to find him blushing, and it makes you smile even wider. carefully, you lift open the black cover, and find matty's familiar scrawl on the inside: to my favourite writer… this is for the next one. lots of love, matty ♡. a little giggle leaves your lips, and you reach for your friend's hand to squeeze it. “you really are the loveliest, you know.”

“shhh, it's nothing,” matty softly rubs the back of your hand with his thumb. “the next bits are the good ones, really. m'excited to see you react to them.”

“better not keep you waiting, then,” you smile, reaching for the book; you let out a little cry of excitement when you read the title. “on beauty! i haven't read this since i was at uni, my god. thanks, matty, i can't believe you remembered me saying that! oh, this is amazing.”

“open it.”

your head shoots up. “what? why?”

matty smiles. “just do it, please.”

“alright,” you do as requested. when you see what’s on the title page, your jaw drops. “matthew…”

“oh, shit, the full name. am i in trouble?” matty quips, smirking as he takes another sip of champagne.

“no, no, just… you got zadie fucking smith to sign a book for me? with a personal message?” you all but sob, lip quivering, completely overcome. “she's telling me she loves my work? what the fuck?”

“well, she's got good taste.”

“matty,” you wail. “this is the best gift i've ever been given.”

matty giggles. “no it isn't.”

“i'm telling you, it really is.”

“nah,” matty gently tugs the book from your hands and replaces it with the box. “this might be, though. but you need to stop crying before you open it, though, darling. can i just…?”

tenderly, so tenderly, matty takes your face in his hands and uses his thumbs to carefully wipe the tears pooling on your lower lashline. at his touch alone, your breathing starts to regulate; the same can't be said for your heart or brain, which both go haywire at the intimacy of his actions, something not helped by him whispering reassuringly to you. “there you are, darling. you're alright.”

it's not a question, but you nod anyway. “thank you.”

“anytime,” matty lets go of your face and sits back; you miss him as soon as he lets go. “right. now you can open it.”

with a smile, you lift the lid from the box - it falters, though, as soon as you take in the words on the paper in front of you. “these are outlines.”

“yeah, they are. look closer, darling.”

you squint at the paper, a choked noise escaping your lips. “feel free… fuck off. zadie gave you her essay notes?!”

“she did. and told me to give them to you.”

“how?”

“well,” matty grins, shuffling in his seat. “i went to see her and nick while i was in new york, and i asked her to sign the book while i was there. when she found out it was for you… she insisted you have those. printed more off for me and everything. she thinks you're the shit, darling.”

“you're sure she didn't say i was shit?” you hiccup, sliding the box onto the table before your tears hit the paper and picking up your glass for a long drink.

“positive. she only had lovely things to say about you,” matty takes your glass and refills it, beaming at you. “so, yeah. bit of a weird present, i know, but i knew you'd appreciate it.”

you laugh through your tears, wiping your eyes and shuffling your chair next to matty's to hug him. “i really do. and i appreciate you even more. thank you, lovely, you're too good to me.”

“nah, you deserve the best, darling,” matty’s hand comes up to rest on the back of your hair, stroking it gently.

you wallow in the tender moment for a second, before pulling back to smile at him. “m'sorry for crying, christ.”

he shakes his head. “don't worry about it, s'cute. and you still look fit when you cry, so…”

“shut up,” you laugh, shoving his shoulder.

“really, you look perfect,” matty smiles, eyes soft. “m'glad you came over early today. not just because it means we get the good potatoes, but because we get to do this, have a bit of peace before everyone gets here. s'nice. really nice.”

you nod. “it is. thanks for having me. and for the gift.”

he kisses your hand. “anytime. thank you for my gift. and just for being you, i s'pose.”

“it's like you want me to keep crying.”

“well, like i said, you look fit,” matty grins. “but nah, i'll stop. let's have a nice time and get rid of this champagne before everyone else gets here, yeah?”

“sounds like a plan.”

so that's what you do - sit at matty's kitchen table, drinking champagne and watching mayhem playing with his new toy, talking and laughing with your best friend. outside, the snow falls faster and faster, blanketing the garden in pristine white, but it's falling nowhere near as quickly as you are for matty. when the front door goes, you’re actually welcome for the excuse to leave the table, the kitchen, the intense care in those beautiful eyes that threatens to shatter your sanity and perspective.

it's your newly engaged friends, laden with more champagne and christmas crackers. once you've exchanged pleasantries, your friend sends her fiancé into the kitchen with the bags so she can interrogate you. “now why are you here so early? you're a little bit unsteady on your feet… oh my god, did you and matty fuck?”

“no! christ! and keep your fucking voice down,” you hiss, looking back down the hall to make sure the coast is clear. “i came over early to help with dinner. and we opened champagne. that's it.”

her eyes narrow. “but you want to fuck him, don't you?”

you open your mouth to answer, but pause for a split-second too long; she cuts back in again. “oh, you do! well, you should.”

“i don't just want to fuck him, babe,” you sigh, leaning against the cold concrete wall. your brain is screaming at you to shut up, but you can't. “i… like him. in a more-than-platonic way. like in a deep way.”

“so… tell him that.”

you blanch. “today?”

“yes! it's christmas. we've all seen love actually - it's the perfect time!” she quietly claps, beaming. “and you won't see him again until my birthday dinner, so if the revelation goes tits up… you've got two months to get over it.”

“really filling me with confidence here.”

“sorry,” she kisses your cheek. “i just like the thought of the two of you being happy, that's all.”

“i know, it's just-”

“darling?” matty wanders down the hall to you, pulling your friend into a welcoming hug, then turning to face you. “sorry to interrupt, but your timer is going off.”

“oh, thanks, lovely,” you smile at him. “be in in a minute, yeah?”

“alright. looking forward to it,” with a wink, he's gone again.

your friend smiles at him, then turns to you. “he is looking forward to you returning to the same room as him. how interesting!”

“yeah, because it means we all get the roast potatoes i made. that's it.”

“oh, you made those again? amazing,” she nods appreciatively, then looks at you and tilts her head. “he could still just be looking forward to being in close proximity to you again, though. wonder if there's any mistletoe around.”

“shut up, please, i am literally begging.”

she laughs, tucking you under her arm and walking to the kitchen. “alright, i'll leave it be tonight. but i'm just saying - i think you have to seriously consider that matty might want you under his christmas tree this month just as much as you want him under yours.”

“and i think you have to seriously consider that you might be delusional.”

“well, we'll soon find out, i'm sure.”

#mads muses #mads does writing #into the birthday partyverse #christmas75 #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fic #matty healy fluff #matty healy x reader #matty x reader

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mondaymelon · 11 months ago

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MERRY CHRISTMAS !!! gifts ensue.

he really went. blep. hi user @ilyuu. im proud of this one so congrats wanderer takes home first gift wooo

lmao id like to apologise in advance as this was brought on because of me but I got super burnt out drawing like 20 of these over the course of 2 days... if you see the quality of the drawings declining ( which you will ) please don't mind it!! thank you.

@anonbinaryweirdo. sigh. i get whiplash whenever you're super nice and then in the span of the next three seconds immediately do something vile

@soleillunne. we don't talk much but from what I know you are such a sweet person omg !! and your works??? dies inside (in a good way). the way you write xiao maks me so. puddle like

@realkavehgf. we agree on one things (amongst others) and that is that kaveh is. kAVEH IS. MALFUNCTIONS PERISHES.

@emphasisondrvgs. you scare me. please take your ranpo and quietly see yourself out LMAO /j

@pjsk-writin. AMIMI ONE OF MY FIRST EVER MOOTS !!! im so proud of mikoto. sighs. straitjackets are smth else to draw .. BUT HES SO. MMMMMM !!!!

@circyexistforcontent AAAHHH HI PRECIOUS. I LIKE YOU BUT I DONT REALLY LIKE DILUC SO. TAKE THIS... quietly throws up

@whats-it-mean. puka puka. head empty. puka puka. please stop your affairs with my mother.

@falors. UGLY SOBS. UGLY CRIES. I LOVE YOU /P SM. WAAHHHH TEARS TEARS TEARS you are the most talented person ever I S T G gRAAAHHH YOU BETTER GET 18412409128410948 FOLLOWERS THIS YEAR OR I WILL RIOT. mwah.

@dustofthedailylife. omg. hi dust... tbh ive been so concerned for you recently with how much life is running you over with a pickup truck so wishing for your improved health soon !! alhaith is a smort guy what can I say

@the-white-void. DEAREST. literally one of the first people I ever interacted with on this platform and you're actually. like. literally one of the sweetest people I have ever met. KLEE IS SUCH A CUTIE FJSFJDK

@kaeffeinee. OMG. m..my kitten- woah WHO just said that. wild shit right there. have something you don't like?? have something that's been pestering you for far too long?? no worries. its the official nag seal of mendokusai !!!!

@lillonvia. sobs. I didn't do the man justice.loud sobs. DFSDDSF YOUR ART MAKES ME WANT TO LIKE DISENTAGRAT INTO GLOWING BALLS oF FUZZ AND FLOAT INTO THE HEAVENS I DONT KNOW HOW ELSE TO DESCRIBE IT. WE ARE SO DELULU oVER XIAO. FOAMS AT THE MOUTH

@absolutelyobsessedkiya. HELP WHY IS MINORI SO BRIGHT.... she's literally shining what. we need to talk more pspsspsp I just now found out that you're a fan of milgram!! remember like last year I was all 'whose that pretty pink person on their pfp??' AND NOW I FINALLY KNOW THATS ITS MUU RAHHHH

@auroratumbles. meow. cat. what a sweetie. I don't even know what my art style is doing here anymore Istg what even. what even BYE LETS TALK ABOUT XIAO LATER !!

@papiliotao. mwah. a kith for you. mWAH. ANOTHER KITH. SJFKSDJFLS GRAHHH YOU ARE THE SW E. E T E ST AND YOUR THE SWEETEST AND YOUR CAT IS THE SWEETEST AND YOUR VOICE IS MAKING ME WANT TO ELEVATE INTO THE CLOUDS AND YOURE SO SILLY EVEN THOUGH YOU DONT LIKE AKITIO SHINONOME

@yinyinggie. hihihi ying !! it honestly amazes me how you're able to juggle so many events and servers at once. im actually in awe. always look at xiao he's so emo and short

@solxima. GRAHHH HI. I DONT LIKE HOW JINGYUAN LOOKS IN THIS BUT. DLJFLSDJ DIES> I CANT DO THIS AN Y M O RE. your honor. hes so cat coded hes so cat coded he's so PERISHS

@yelshin. WAIIIIT NO YOUR NAME GOT CUT OFF> iM SORRY. I don't know why he looks... so r e g a l in this but its definitely giving off oRAtRice MecAnIquE DAnAlySe CARdiNAle .

@vennnnn-diagram. LOUD SCREAMING N O . YOUR NAME GOT CUT OFF TOOOODJSKFLSD JGAIJFAD JKLJFD:LFS. anyways. I need to see nahida smiling more she deserves everything and then some. aranaras are so silly giggles

@lume-nosity. I hold the slightest bit of guilt for putting your angsty ish drawing right next to happy lil nahida buT AHAHAH IT MAKES IT HURT MORE IG. took some inspo from your blog title... mwah ily lume. I WAS SO SCARED TO TALK TO YOU AT FIRST WHEN I SENT YOU THAT MOOT ASK BUT I AM EVER SO HAPPY THAT I DID !!!

th end. im actually so dead lmao my fingers actually were starting to bleed afklsdjfaskdjfklsdjflkasdjflksjflkjowejtoij enjoy your Christmas gifts mooties !! if anyone asks why I haven't been posting fics as promised. this is why. ill be in a coffin for a while please let my soul rest

OH AND FORGOT TO MENTION I DREW THESE BASD ON THE MOOTIES THAT COMMNTED ON MY THINGY LIKE LAST WEEK WHICH ASKED WHICH CHARACTER THY WANTD I LOVE YOU ALL PSPS I PROMIS

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maximotts · 2 years ago

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𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑎𝑐𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢; 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑡

a/n: this was supposed to be a drabble and it turned into a very long part of my originally planned Christmas fic. sOOO.. you're welcome (and yes I did co-opt Wanda and Vision's thing at the beginning because I can and I wanted to)

request: @wandasdolly; okay so hear me out… festive wandanat sex by the fireplace… and there’s blankets and wine and probably christmas music playing and i am just being horny anyway bye😁

pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

wc: 4.2k

summary: Private Hire: Origins AU; This is an 18+ only work, minors DNI; smut, fluff; cozy and romantic living room sex, fingering, oral, cum strap because I'm a feral homosexual, Natasha has two wolves inside her: one that's horny for Wanda and the other that's disgustingly in love with her, cuddly aftercare and a lot of feelings at the end because this is me and well, I've been wanting to write this for a long time

private hire au. || main masterlist.

"Wanda, darling..."

"Natasha, sweetheart?" Wanda struggled to keep her weight on just one arm, her other bent to keep her glass of wine upright. She'd been in the middle of taking another sip when Natasha leaned in to kiss her cheek, cutting her drink short to replace cool glass with her lips. "What are you doing?"

The redhead chuckled against her skin, leaving lipstick marks along Wanda's jaw as she continued her trek. "You're a smart girl. What do you think I'm doing?"

Elegant piano versions of classic Christmas songs played low in the background, Natasha having insisted on pulling out her records for the living room scene she'd set. Thick blankets laid over the carpeted floor, fire crackling over wooden logs nestled in their large fireplace, Natasha surprised Wanda with a cozy night alone for the holidays. It was a sweet gesture for the typically stoic one of the pair, the kind of thing Wanda loved more than anything especially during her favorite time of year.

"If I had to guess, I'd say you're up to something..." As Wanda spoke, Natasha pressed forward, kissing down her neck as she turned it to the side and allowed her further access. The moment she felt her girlfriend's hands on her hips, she expected some kind of removal of her silk pajama top, but it never came.

Instead, when Nat's mouth reached the last bits of exposed skin over her sternum, they traveled over the fabric and nuzzled into Wanda's chest where she always felt most safe and secure. "You should set your wine down before you spill it."

Wanda looked down then, raising a confused brow to the woman too preoccupied with reverently kissing the swells of her breasts to notice being watched. "I'm not going to spill- oh..."

The glass met the stone fire hearth with a hard clank, Wanda's hand shaky as Natasha's lips wrapped around a covered nipple. Both arms had to support her now, Nat tugging her closer and leaving her at a somewhat awkward angle- it was hard to care while her girlfriend licked over the semi-hard bud. Both of them knew how sensitive she was, Natasha exploiting it at every turn when she needed Wanda breathless and pliable as quickly as possible, but this was different.

This was slow, careful, tongue rolling over her in a teasing promise of what was to come before she switched to the other, not wanting to neglect any part of Wanda. "You're going to ruin my shirt..."

"They're pajamas, you'll get over it." She'd been bouncing around for weeks arranging everything —buying this house to get away from bustling city streets, the type of home Wanda sighed over whenever they drove by, giving explicit instructions to not be disturbed unless someone was dying of in danger of it— all of this for Wanda's Christmas gift. Nothing was going to get in the way of Natasha making the most of their time together.

And so only when Wanda began to whine, needing more after being wound up painfully slowly, did Natasha guide the brunette to lay back. She undid the row of tiny buttons blocking her top half from view before sliding matching bottoms down to her ankles, calloused fingers dragging down skin so soft Natasha felt blessed to touch it. Wanda kicked the pants off herself, moved to rid herself of her underwear, the last piece of clothing that kept her from being fully exposed, but Natasha stopped her.

She sat back on her knees to get a good look at her, long hair splayed out atop the quilt where Wanda lay prone, wide green eyes a little hazy from the alcohol, but playful nonetheless as she smiled up at Natasha; she swore she felt her heart leap. Maybe she paused too long because manicured fingernails dug into Natasha's thighs, Wanda having grown impatient, "What are you staring at?"

"You," Natasha said without hesitation, tracing the shadows the fire made over Wanda's abdomen with her pointer finger, "You're beautiful and I don't think I tell you that enough." Wanda blushed a deep pink and went to shake her head, but Nat was quick to hold her chin still and force her to take the compliment. "You're beautiful and I love you and I need you to remember that."

Wanda could've made some snarky remark about how dramatic Natasha was being, how she didn't have to say that stuff just to get in her pants, but the words she heard choked her up. Manipulative as she could be, Natasha would never lie to Wanda, not about that, and in the short seconds she managed to make eye contact with the woman above her, Wanda saw only sincerity in her loving gaze. "Show me."

Natasha closed the distance quickly, kissing Wanda until she was breathless and nearly lightheaded. When she descended this time it was with teeth scraped over her collarbone and nibbles that were sure to leave a mark. Pointedly ignoring Wanda's breasts until an insistent hand pulled her by her hair to them, Natasha bit down harder than she needed to, the brunette squeaking and squirming as Nat soothed the blossoming red bruise with a series of apologetic licks. "I'll be wearing turtlenecks until that goes away, Nat."

"It's winter anyways, too cold to show off." She was content to let Wanda rock against her thigh while she played, sucking and licking each nipple and rolling whichever one she couldn't have in her mouth with her fingers, always a game to see how fast Natasha could make her cum just like that. But today was for more than that and as Nat's free hand dipped lower, snapping the sides of Wanda's panties against her hips, she couldn't bring herself to be too disappointed hanging up her mischievous hat for one night.

Pushing insistent hips to still on the ground, curious fingers dipped between Wanda's legs and found a sizable spot on that last piece of her clothing; a telltale sign of her arousal. "You're so wet, baby. Is that all for me? Because I made you dinner and got your favorite wine, or did I play with your tits so much you're already close to cumming?"

Wanda hated and loved when Natasha called attention to her like so; hated for how cocky her girlfriend got no matter what her response and loved for the way that kind of talk tightened that coil in her belly, a true double-edged sword. Keeping her ego in check was a 24/7 job, but Wanda had to admit it was kind of cute to see Natasha so visibly proud of herself. "Both, now touch me before I do it myself and make you watch."

"Oh honey," Natasha cooed, easily moving the thin lace to the side and sliding two fingers along Wanda's folds, "you know you'd only be begging me to do it for you the entire time."

Confident fingertips toyed with Wanda's clit, moving in time with the ones still firmly at her chest, Nat grinning wide while Wanda's back arched involuntarily and she cried out, her first orgasm a sudden and unplanned surprise.

As her head swam, Wanda recalled the short video she'd sent Natasha just a few days prior, motivation to come home after she'd gotten word the older woman was held up and would be back later than planned. In it, she'd fucked herself on her newest vibrator, a toy she knew Natasha was itching to see Wanda use— she didn't realize she'd called out Natasha's name until after she pressed the send button. Soft and desperate, pleading for her girlfriend and her help on pure instinct... Natasha wasn't going to let that go unnoticed.

In this particular instance, the shock of it all left Wanda's mouth open in a silent scream; gorgeous as she was, Natasha wanted to hear her name again. Thankfully she was far from done.

Wanda's underwear joined her pants in a heap next to them before Natasha kissed her way back up the expanse of Wanda's bare legs, holding them apart to selfishly drink in the sinful sight of her lover spread open just for her. "Have I mentioned how pretty you are, Wands?"

The girl only rolled her eyes, brushing off her gawking to tug at Natasha who was still fully clothed. "I want to see you too."

She wasn't shy about her body, Wanda having seen it countless times over the few years they've known one another, but she never failed to be surprised when Wanda asked. Before her and even at the beginning of her, the sex she had was quick and detached, clothes askew and shoved aside to get to the point; when Wanda demanded more from her, Natasha was too head over heels to deny the request.

Especially on nights such as these where she focused on Wanda alone, she never liked to be the only one naked and so Natasha obliged, shedding her pajama shirt and letting her girlfriend's hands roam at will. Wanda sat up then, taking her turn to kiss every inch of skin she could reach, fingertips lovingly skirting over every cut and scar Natasha sustained over the years. "I think you're plenty beautiful yourself, you know."

She knew Natasha wouldn't let it last long, not when a brush between her legs revealed the thick strap on set firmly in place on her hips, but the brevity didn't stop Wanda from wanting to show what appreciation she could anyways. "And this is for me, I'm assuming."

"Depends, do you want it to be?" Natasha rocked against Wanda's as she rubbed over the fake cock, the textured base of the toy perfect for giving some much needed attention to her neglected sex. She rarely talked about how much it turned her on just to make Wanda fall apart, but honestly, it made her insatiable. Even getting to watch the display she doubted Wanda knew she was putting on, wiggling against the blankets as she palmed her strap with such anticipation she had to bite her lip to keep from immediately asking for it... Nat could've cum on the spot.

Wanda's hand stilled, bringing her eyes back up to meet Natasha's, mirthful expression so cute the redhead fought the urge to pinch her cheeks, "I thought you hated dumb questions."

Natasha laughed at that, reluctantly pulling Wanda away and pushing her back once more so that she could rid herself of her own pants before leaning over Wanda until their chests were pressed together, "It's not a dumb question if I'm asking. Do you want it?"

She rolled her pelvis against Wanda's slowly, deliberately sliding the strap on against Wanda's wet folds as she fought to keep still. Wanda knew what she was doing and it wasn't fair, forcing Wanda to beg for something on what was supposed to be a romantic night where Natasha usually gave without asking— it wasn't a habit her girlfriend could kick easily. "Yes..."

"Yes what?" Nat took that sweet pressure away and replaced it with her fingers, pushing one digit past her entrance without warning. It didn't hurt, but Wanda whimpered anyways, the sudden intrusion catching her off guard. A second finger joined the first soon after, steadily stretching Wanda until she was ready to speak her wishes. "Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you, whatever it is."

"I-I..." Forming sentences was hard when two fingers were fucking her open, fast and rough even as Natasha's words stayed even-paced and calm. It was too much and not enough, even as those devious fingers curled, hitting that one spot that drove Wanda to madness. She didn't want to be so close again, not without her girlfriend's strap buried deep inside her; all she had to do was say it. "I want you to fuck me! Nat, please, I'm gonna-!"

"You're gonna what? Cum again?" Wanda nodded, desperately trying to stave off her impending orgasm, but Natasha never let up. When the girl's mewling gave away her stubbornness, Nat cradled her flushed cheek in her hand, thumb running over kiss-swollen lips. "Let go for me, sweet thing. Let me see you cum just like this and I'll give you what you really want."

It was only a few seconds longer that she lasted, arms drawn tight around Natasha's neck as she rode out her orgasm. This one was stronger than the last, longer and fuller, and Wanda was glad to already be laid out where her muscles could safely give way.

As soon as Nat's fingers pulled out, her strap pushed in, thicker than her digits and inching ever deeper until her lover bottomed out with a low grunt. "Shit, Wanda..."

Long legs wound around Natasha's waist as Wanda adjusted to the stretch, both keeping her close as she could and giving her girlfriend a better angle to grind against the toy's base, willing to endure the temporary discomfort if it meant hearing more of Nat's swears and the occasional praises that came with them. "Tasha... fuck me."

Gentle command as it was, Natasha moved, slow at first until she could go without resistance, finding just the right pace as she left messy kisses down Wanda's throat. "This what you wanted?"

"Again with the dumb questions," Wanda bypassed a real response in favor of pulling the redhead closer, dragging red lines down her back with blunt fingernails as Natasha hit the perfect angle. It felt so right, like everything did when it was with her; the singular person Wanda trusted to see her at her most vulnerable. "Right there, don't stop!"

"Here?" Natasha accented her question with a particularly hard thrust, Wanda's exaggerated groan immediately giving her her answer. A few more pointed movements of her hips and Wanda might have well been a puddle on the floor, babbling any number of incoherent pleas Natasha could only just make out as Sokovian.

"What's the matter, Wanda, can’t talk straight with your pussy stuffed full of my cock? Poor baby.” She couldn't help but play into it, to drive her further into the subspace that was for Natasha's eyes only. Wanda looked like she wanted to say something back, probably some half-hearted distaste for Natasha’s vulgarity, but she couldn’t pretend not to love it. Not when the same woman tugged her hips upwards to keep hitting that same spot now threatening to make her drool, her eyes rolling back into her head as she mumbled and reached for Natasha.

On her third orgasm, she was terribly sensitive and didn't have a hope of lasting long even if she tried. Natasha drew it out as long as she could, working her way to her own climax right along with the woman below. Wanda preferred it that way, always wanting to share her ecstasy with the person she loved most; it was sweetest to her watching the same pleasure she felt wash over her lover at the same time. “Fuck, Wanda, you feel amazing.. I’m so close..”

Natasha’s head dropped into the crook of Wanda’s neck and she was quick to bury her fingers in thick red locks, uncaring of how hard she pulled as she neared her end once more. “Cum with me Tasha, please, please-!”

Their joined climax was a flurry of kisses and sighs, Wanda clinging to Natasha for dear life as a gush of liquid slipped deep inside her, some added thing to her girlfriend’s new toy that only added to the fullness she felt. Natasha’s hips had yet to still, rutting into Wanda for as long as her orgasm let her. When she did come down, she held tight to Wanda, squeezing her limp form and kissing her shoulder until the other woman protested her suffocation. “Sorry…”

When Wanda opened her eyes it was to Natasha’s shy smile and she giggled, granting her a quick peck on the nose before Nat pulled back. “You’re quite cute when you’re clingy.”

“I’m not cute.” Natasha sat back on her knees, lazy eyes dropping from Wanda’s exhausted gaze to where she was now glistening in the firelight, a mixture of her arousal and the toy’s lubricant dripping from her abused entrance. She was gathering it on her fingers without a second thought, moaning as she pushed it back in and slowly let her digits drift back inside. Nat studied Wanda as she toyed with her, checking for signs of discomfort or even pain; when none came, she figured she might as well ask for the one thing she wanted. “Can I taste you, my love? I’ll be quick.”

Wanda nodded, her eyes already falling closed again, “Be gentle.” It was an easy enough request to abide by and Nat laid kisses down Wanda’s abdomen as a thank you, soft and adoring little things over her lower belly, willing her girlfriend to relax when her lips finally reached the top of her mound. She was flat on her stomach now, inspecting Wanda up close to commit the sight to memory— Natasha would spend all night filling Wanda up just to watch it seep out and fuck it back in again if she’d let her, but that was for some other time.

Her tongue was careful as it licked over her hole, mindful of Wanda’s shivers and quivering thighs, but she tasted divine and soon enough Natasha was taking every bit of her she could get. “You’re always so good for me, Wanda, so perfect…”

The only response she received was a pleased hum, a sound made comfortably enough that Natasha continued on in stride, turning her attention to Wanda’s swollen clit. Loving sets of kitten licks left Wanda’s hips stuttering, Natasha wrapping her lips around it and sucking only because she knew when she let up there’d be a fresh pool of wetness waiting for her. She continued her little cycle until Wanda weakly pushed her away with a strained whine, “Too sensitive, hurts…”

Instantly worried, Natasha was off in a flash, giving the exhausted woman a thorough once over. She’d been so careful, but even so, if she’d done something harmful, she’d never forgive herself. “Did I hurt you? Are you okay?”

“I’m perfectly okay, Nat.” Wanda shook her head, running her hands over her girlfriend’s thighs to reassure her now frantic state. “Don’t overreact, I’m fine. Barely awake, but I feel great.” Nat breathed an audible sigh of relief, but kept her distance, giving Wanda the space she hated having after sex. Her outstretched arms reminded Natasha yet again how much of a cuddler her partner was, another activity she only ever indulged when it came to Wanda.

She scooped her up along with a blanket, wrapping Wanda in a warm bundle before letting her lay on her chest; the brunette’s favorite way to be held when she was tired and reorienting herself. Rarely did she say anything which was more than fine for the other woman who tended to exist in silence unless prompted, but something about tonight compelled Natasha to speak up. “I love you.”

“Yes, I know,” Wanda chuckled, giving Natasha a quick squeeze as she sleepily watched the dimming fire. Nat took her hand though, catching her attention as she played with it in her own. All day her partner had been so… odd; not in any way Wanda could complain about with the gift of this house, dinner, and everything else, but she had to admit it was completely out of character. “I love you too.”

“No, I…” She felt stupid even trying to say it, having shown it as best she could and most likely doing more than enough to prove her point, but the truest words were always the hardest ones for Natasha to convey. “I’m in love with you. I’m so in love with you that it makes me feel like an idiot.”

“You’re being a little silly, sweetheart. We should probably go to bed-” A kiss cut Wanda off, bold and full of a strange uncertainty that caught her off guard. She could still taste herself on Natasha’s lips from earlier and as she was pulled impossibly closer, Wanda feared her spine would break if the arms around her held any tighter.

Nat gave her just enough space, her forehead pressed against Wanda’s as their heavy breaths mingled. “Marry me.”

Wanda’s once half lidded eyes flew open, scooting back from Natasha to stare at her in disbelief. She’d been with her girlfriend long enough to know when she was joking; Wanda didn’t know if it scared her more not to see any evidence of that in her or not. “Natalia, don’t…”

“Don’t do that, don’t pull away. I mean it!” There was no point in being on one knee when they were both sat on the ground so Natasha just shuffled closer, taking Wanda’s hand back and holding it in her own shaky ones. “I want to live in this house here, with you, and come back here every night to call this our home. I never want to think about having another Christmas without you right by my side or any other holiday that in all honesty, I think are stupid, but you love. I want to see your face light up when I surprise you and kill whatever makes you cry. Hell, I even like cuddling now when it means holding you. I want you to marry me.”

She didn’t know what to say, effectively stunned into silence at Natasha’s confession. In all the ways Wanda imagined a proposal as a little girl, it was never naked in a blanket on the floor of some American home in New York, being asked by a woman who she loved as much as she butt heads with. Far from her wildest dreams, but Wanda had long stopped having those. “Ask me.”

“What?” Pleased as she was Wanda didn’t yell or bolt from the room as she’s been known to do, her response wasn’t the enthusiastic yes Natasha hoped for.

“You said you want to marry me, so ask me.” Wanda stared at Natasha blankly, expectantly until the other woman got the hint. Her instinct was to roll her eyes, remark that Wanda couldn’t ever just take a gesture for what it was, no, she had to be difficult about it; she knew this about her and none of it made Natasha want her any less.

And so she straightened up, holding Wanda’s hand firmly now, and asked the question Wanda thought she’d never hear. “I’ve said it a thousand times today, but I’ll say it a thousand more if you ask me to: I love you. So much so that I’m asking you to marry me without buying you a ring because I couldn’t bear one more day without knowing you’ll be mine for the rest of our lives. We fight sometimes and we’re both so stubborn, I’m sure we’ll never stop having our disagreements, but you’ll also never stop being the only person I trust with everything I have. I’m not good with the words that actually matter and you know that so please don’t make me do this again; will you marry me, Wanda Maximoff?”

Wanda didn’t like crying, hated when it happened and even more so when Natasha was around to see it, but this time she’d caused it and Wanda was too overwhelmed with emotion to hold back her sob. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

She flung herself back into Natasha’s arms, a sweaty mess of tears and the smell of sex, but Nat caught her anyways, rubbing her back as Wanda cried. Unfortunately, Natasha hadn’t thought through how emotional Wanda tended to get; she’d barely bargained for her own stumbling before opening her mouth. “You’re too tired to be crying like this, you’ll pass out.”

“You’d take care of me,” Wanda mumbled, curling into Natasha’s lap as she tried to settle herself down. It took a while, longer because the brunette refused to quit kissing her new fiancee to properly catch her breath. When she finally did, her wide smile was still plastered on her face and Natasha found it contagious, a similar expression stuck on her own mouth. “That was quite an adorable proposal, Miss Romanoff.”

Natasha raised a brow, wiping the last remnants of tears from Wanda’s pink cheeks with a disgruntled huff, “If you tell anyone about that, I’ll make sure they can’t speak a word of it to anyone else.”

“Does that include-”

“That especially includes Sam. Not a word or I’m taking my proposal back.” Wanda laughed, not believing a single thing that came out of her grumpy wife-to-be’s mouth. Natasha was so protective of her steel-cut persona, so few people heard anything different and even fewer actually saw it. Wanda, on the other hand, loved spilling secrets to their friends and more than once, Natasha caught herself being the topic of conversation; they never let her live those moments down. “Not a single word, I mean it. I bet I can sell this house too.”

#wandanat #wandanat fanfiction #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #wandanat fic #wanda maximoff fic #natasha romanoff fic #wandanat smut #wandanat fluff #wanda maximoff smut #natasha romanoff smut #wanda maximoff fluff #natasha romanoff fluff #wandanat au #private hire au #marvel fanfic #motts writes.#maximotts

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yuyu1024 · 11 months ago

Text

One and only

Pairings: San x Y/N

Genre/tags: established relationship, mafia

Warning: fluff but still 🔞 smut/angst, unprotected sex, cursing, semi public, pet names, jealousy, clingy, mention of blood and death, blowjob/handjob [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 4.4k

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

Note: posted this during holidays🎄⭐️ but i deleted my acct bcoz of stupiditttyyyyy? 🙃 anyways... almost done reposting my one shots. I'll try to post my short series soon.

***

It's holiday season. Everyone you know are all busy preparing for the coming christmas. Your friends are busy buying gifts for their love ones and they are also excited planning all their trips or dates with their each own special someone. Whilst you on the other hand, you are not planning anything.

"Y/n, what are you going to do this christmas?" One of your friend asks

"I'll be visiting my parents on the 25th." You answer

"That's all?" She asks

"Do you want to come with us? My family are going on a staycation on this fancy hotel... I can ask them if I could bring you." The other friend suggested

"No... it's fine. I'll be at home. I deserve a break too from all the work I've been doing..." you answer

"I get it... you deserve it yes.. but... are you not sad you are not spending Christmas eve with someone...?" The first friend ask

"Even a date?" The other one adds. "You know... if you only accept the guys wanting to take you on a date or atleast get to know you... I'm sure you have a boyfriend now."

You laugh at how worried they are with you spending Christmas eve alone.

"I'm fine. I'm happy."

Being the "single one" in your friendship group is nothing new. It's not that you don't want to meet anyone or get to know someone but it's just that you are not actually single. None of them knows that you have been dating this guy for quite some time now.

You are not hiding him or your relationship because you are embarassed about him. You are just respecting his privacy and for safety reasons as well.

He is the son of the leader of the famous mafia in the country. Everybody knows their family. They fear them. Everyone thinks they are the most dangerous beings to exist. However little did they know, they only look mean as hell. But these men, all have hearts and kindess to help anyone in need. They just don't publicize the good things they do.

"Okay... whatever you say... just call us when you need someone to talk to when you feel alone."

"I'm fine girls... seriously... and enjoy your vacation. Don't mind me. Spend your time with your boyfriends and family... okay?"

"Okay." Both of them say at the same time.

"Great!"

Then after a few more minutes chatting with them your phone alarm buzzes. It's a reminder.

"Oh crap! I need to go now!" You say in a hurry. "I had to go to this shop my mother told me to go... I need to drop her gifts for her friend who's in the city for vacation."

"Okay... sure..." both your friend stands up and hugs you.

"Happy holidays! See you after more than a week." You say

"See you and stay safe! Be careful running in the snow okay? You are clumpsy." The first friend says

"I will."

"Bye!"

You wave goodbye one last time before running out of the coffee shop.

You are really in a hurry. It is true that you have to meet your mother's friend to give them the gift. You were supposed to meet the park near the hotel they're staying at. It's not that far from where you and your friends met so you just decided to walk from there.

Then while you are on the walk, you decides to text your lover to let him know where you will be at.

Y/N: I'll be at the park in front of Crescent Hotel. Meeting my mom's friend to give her present.

After sending the text, you put your phone in your sling bag and didn't checked if he read it or replied. You are in a hurry so it didn't crossed your mind.

"Y/n?" A motherly tone of voice calls your name as you just walk pass through the crowd to step foot in the vicinity of the park.

You turn around and see Mrs. Jung together with her son waving at you. Smiling, you carefuly run towards them and quickly hug Mrs. Jung. "Long time no see!"

"Indeed!" She hugs you back and pats your head. "Oh my gosh! You have grown... such a beautiful lady."

You shyly giggle as you can't accept the compliment very well. For you, you just look alright. Not as beautiful as your mother.

"It's been so long since you last came back..." you say

"Yeah. We didn't get the chance to come back the last two years. But we're here now." She says smiling

"By the way, this is mother's gift. She says sorry she can't give it to you personally. She's at the province now taking care of grandpa and grandma."

"Oh, it's fine. I understand. Tell them I wish them a happy holiday and good health."

"I will."

Then her son, Wooyoung, standing next to her greeys you. "Happy holidays."

"Happy holidays." You smile back.

You two then hug and pat each other's back.

Wooyoung and you are classmates in highschool. You two became friends because of your parents. Before you two would always have sleepovers so you could both play and watch movies together. But since they migrated abroad, you two became a little distant. Still friends but not as close as before.

Plus one factor that might've affected that is before he flew away, he confessed his feelings for you. That he liked you. However, you told him that even you like him too back then being highschool and being in a long distance relationship is not ideal for the both of you. It's sad but it is true. Especially bot of you were so young back then.

"You still as pretty as I remember." He says to you

"Stop!" You hit him on his arm. "You still compliment me like the way you used to in highschool." You say.

"You know I'm just being honest." He says, warmly smiling

"I know." And then you notice that he looks mature that from what you remembered seeing him two years ago when they last visited. "You look different."

"Well it's his married aura now." Mrs. Jung explains

"M-married?" You gasp looking at them two back and forth. "You got married?"

Wooyoung is smiling ear to ear. "Yes." He answers then showing his ring. "I got married to the love of my life just almost a year ago."

"Oh my gosh! Congratulations!" You jump and hug him again. "I'm so happy for you!" You clap as you let him go. "Is she with you guys?"

"Unfortunately no... she can't travel because she's just a few months pregnant and she's in bed rest."

"Married and soon to be father!" You are estatic. "What a blessing!"

"Thank you!" Wooyoung is so proud and happy about her wife and their soon to be child.

The catch up with the Jung's is so light and warm. They all have good things to talk about that excites you. It's been a while since you saw them and you are so happy that everything is great with them. Especially after them losing the father figure in their family. You are glad they are doing well.

****

An two hours later, you are on your way to your apartment building, carrying a few things you bought from the groceries that you need at home when you decided to check on your phone.

SAN: I thought you're meeting your mom's friend. Who is the guy you are hugging?

SAN: You hugged him not once but twice!

SAN: why are you touching his arm.

SAN: why are you laughing so much :(

SAN: who is he?????

SAN: baby

SAN: baby...........

SAN: stop talking him.

SAN: baby!

SAN: :(

SAN: you are leaning on to him?????

SAN: are you cheating on me in public?

SAN: HE HUGGED YOU

SAN: AGAIN

SAN: WHAT. IS. THIS.

SAN: baby!!

SAN: ㅠ_ㅠ

You snort a laugh as you read how he whines in his texts. You could hear him say all these even just from the messages. He's so jealous.

Y/N: where are you?

(No reply)

Y/N: okay...

Y/N: If you don't reply...

Y/N: you're not welcome to come inside my apartment again.

Y/N: bye~~~

You proudly smile after you sent the text. Coz you know San will immediately rush to get to you after reading your text.

However, what you didn't expect is that minutes later when you're about to turn to the corner of your building and about to get to the steps to the entrance, you notice a tall figute standing. It's San.

"You're not going to invite me in your apartment anymore?" He says his brows arching and lookinh down at you.

He's wearing something casual and comfy. A beanie, black fitted shirt and a grey sweat pants.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, "And why are you wearing so little clothes! It's cold!" I rush to him

"You said you will not welcome me in! So I ran!" He is sweating and you can see heat coming out of his body.

"Ran from where?"

He pouts. "There." He points at the black car parked across the street.

"I see... so... you were following me?"

"No." He looks away

"I thought we've agreed about me having one bodyguard... camouflaged as a normal civilian in a distant... why are you following me now?"

"I promise. I was not supposed to follow you..."

"But?"

He looks down and takes the the two shopping bag you are holding. "I miss you... I was at the gym when I received your text that you were going to meet a family friend..."

"And...?"

"And... I thought I could pick you up... give you a ride home after..."

"But...?"

He sighs, giving up. "Fine. I'm sorry. But I do swear... I went out because I really do miss you."

"Then if you do miss me....why just let me know... visit me... we can hang out."

"Sorry."

You chuckle as you see him lower his head even more. He's so cute when he's like this. A total 180degrees opposite of his charisma when he's in his mafia mode.

"So... you want to come in and stay?" You ask tilting your head to the side, searching for his face. "But if you have plans or things to do with work... it's fine. Beside, I'll be leaving tomorrow to visits my--"

"You're leaving?"

"Yes. I did told you about my grandpa being sick right?"

"Oh. Right."

Both of you then start to walk in the building. You want him to get inside quick and get warm since he forgot to bring a jacket with him.

People who you walk pass as from the lobby to the elevator are all looking sus as they see San. They must be thinking how crazy he is walking around with such little clothes during winter season.

But knowing San, even though people give him looks and judgements he does not give a fuck.

"Would you like a hot milk? Maybe hot coco or..." you ask as you both reach your apartment door enterimgg your pin. "a warm jacket to bring when you leave? You still have a few clothes here with me... the ones you left..."

Then as soon as you enter and the door beeps signaling its locked and closed, San drops the two shopping bag on the floor and cages you in between his arms.

"I've missed you." He mumbles into your ears.

You close your eyes, lean your head on his shoulder and allow him to embrace you tightly. "Me too."

"I'm sorry I've been away this past few weeks..."

"It's okay."

"I wish I could've helped you decorate your place."

"You're so sweet." You whirl around to face your lover. "I know you are really not into Christmas really... it's fine. I don't want to force you to do it every year with me."

"No..." he pulls you in closer and places his hand at the back of your head. "It's important to you... so I have to... you know you are my everything. And I will do anything to make you happy."

"Aww..." you lay your head on his chest. "You're the sweetest tough guy that I know."

He tenses a little. "I should be the only sweet and tough guy you know!"

You laugh at his reaction. Your lover is a jealous type and he does not know or even tries to hide it. You sometimes like to tease him about it.

"Hmm... I don't think so..." you let go of him and take the two shopping bags from the floor and go straight to the kitchen. "I know a few..." you add before you start unpacking the groceries

"Baby..." he follows you to the kitchen.

"I have classmate and still friends with are tough guys. They are sweet and kind too."

"Who? What do they do? Are you talking to them? I need to know details about them!" He is sulking

While you on the other hand, just enjoying his reaction. "Also... Wooyoung..."

"Who??!?"

"Wooyoung..." you repeat. "He's the first guy whoever protected me... from the bad guys..."

He goes silent.

"He protected me to the bullies in highschool. He's a cool guy. And....sweet."

He is though. Wooyoung is such a good person and reliable.

"Is that the guy from earlier?"

You nod as you finish the rest of the unpacking. "We finally saw each other after two years..."

"You knew him before me?" He sounds a bit hurt

"Yes. I know him since highschool." You answer before you walk out of the kitchen and finally removing your coat and scarf revealing your knitted top. "He migrated abroad with his family..."

"Is he your ex?" His face suddenly changes. He's not sulky anymore. He's more on the really jealous San now.

You appoach your lover, who's standing in the middle of the room, take his hand and kiss his knuckles.

"No..." you suddenly reasurre him. "Don't get jealous okay? He's a friend."

"But you hugged him... three times." He pouts

"Because I was so happy to see him plus he told me good news." You put your hands around his waist and give him a quick smooch on his lips. "He got married and expecting his first baby..."

"Oh." San's lips slowly curves into a smile.

"So... now you're smiling."

"Well..." his cheekbones show his happiness

"Why are you getting jealous all the time huh? You know you're my only lover..."

"They are a lot of hunters in this world baby. And you are one heck of a prey." He lowers his head, leaving delicate kisses on your jaw. "If only I could tell the whole world you are my queen...my everything... then boys will not try to hit on you."

"It's okay... and I don't care about those boys... I have you. My Sannie. You are all I need and want in my life."

"Aww baby..." his hands goes lower, cupping your ass with both hands. "I love you..."

"I love you too."

He hums and then nuzzles his face with yours. "Maybe I should stay for the night..." he smiles, "What do you think?"

"I think you should..." you whisper before crashing your lips to his.

The sweet smooch gets deeper the moment he opened his mouth and allowed you to explore your tongue in there.

The sound of your kisses echoes all throughout the apartment. Kisses that are longing and hungry. Kisses that are in duet with his whiny moans.

"Fuck." He smiles and looks at you with endearing eyes. "Baby, you're driving me insane!"

"Do I?" You kiss him again. Teasing him by sucking his lower lip before letting him go.

"Maybe let's have dessert first before we have dinner." He pulls you up and you automatically wrapped your legs around his hips. "I'll cook later... don't worry."

"I love desserts." You say

"Perfect."

He carries you from the living room to your bedroom. He slowly puts you down in bed, sitting, before he goes down to his knees so you're eye to eye.

"May I undress you?"

"Please..." you kiss him on his cheek. "My Sannie."

A grin forms on his lips. He starts from pulling your knitted sweater off, revealing your black bra filled with your plump breasts. Then his hands goes from your behind to unzip your skirt. You helped him by getting up a little so he can pull it down in a go.

"Hmm." He bow down his head and lay his cheek on your thighs.

"You're so warm..." you murmur. You placed your hand on his bare face.

"I'm warm because of you." He raise his head to look at you. "I am alive because of you."

"San..." you call his name and kiss his forehead.

The way San say you are his everything and his life can sound exaggerated to others. However for him, he meant it. And people will understand why he says it like that if they know the full story how he and you met.

***

You two met more than two years ago. You were on your way home from your work at night. You decided to drop by a pharmacy to buy your first aid kit supplies because you've ran out. You are clumpsy and usually hurt yourself when cooking so you always need it refilled from time to time.

And then while you were on your walk, under the pouring rain, you heard noises from a dark alley just a few blocks away from the pharmacy. At first you wanted to just ignore it but then the moment you saw the guys guys wearing baggy clothes and masks, you made sure you made a sound that will startle them thinking someone is coming. It was effective coz they fled. You saw them ran and you panicked but luckily they didn't hear or saw you. As you were hiding from across the street.

You waited a few minutes before completely running across to check who got hurt.

When you got there, San was on the floor. He was beaten up, sitting and his back leaning on the wall. His eyes were closed and not answering you when you asled him if he's fine so what you did was dial the hotline, for help.

However, after a few rings San abruptly grabs your phone and ends the call.

"What are you doing?" You asked, panicking. "We need to call the ambulance... or the police..."

"No." San insisted. "I can't go to a hospital."

"Why not? You're bleeding!"

Blood was running down the concrete and straight to the drainage.

"It's not deep." He mumbled

"What the heck? You are bleeding! You might die!"

He smiled at you even his face was bruised and his one eye barely opening. "If you keep talking loud... they'll come back. And then we'll both die."

You covered your mouth and looked around.

"Just help me get up and go to my car."

"Are you sure?" You say quietly

"Yes. I can't go to the hospital nor the police right now." He grunted as he tries to get up slowly. You helped him immediately. "I have my first aid kit in my car."

"I have to... in my bag." You said as you try to carry his weight, his arm around you.

"Good girl." He said.

You helped him with his cut. You are not the bravest person in the world but back then you managed to clean his cut, staple it, covered it with bandage and even helped him get into his new set of clothes.

Yeah, the day you first met San you already saw him naked. You were stunmed when he asked you to undress him completely especially when you saw his length up close and personal. But you forced yourself to be focus that time. And hurray to that you managed to undress and dress him.

"I'm sorry... this is our first time meeting..." he said, grunting in pain.

"It's fine. Glad I could help." You said as you finally relax beside him at the backseat.

"You're wet."

"Excuse me?" Your eyes widened, making laugh

"I meant... your clothes."

"Oh." You blushed so bad. Embarassed.

"I have one extra shirt. It's big enough to be your dress... if you want to..."

You didn't answered him.

"I'll look away. Promise."

"Okay. I don't want to get sick."

You picked the extra black shirt from his luggage. You started to undress the second he looked away. The car is heavily tinted and the parking lot is closed so no one is around except you two and his car. So you felt a bit at ease undressing even you should not.

Long story short. After that night, San became obsessed with you.

He thanked you hundred of times and made sure to get to know you. He thought he was doing all of it because he's just thankful. That's it. But then even just a stranger, when you almost got into trouble because of his life, he learn how important you are to him.

Since then San kept you safe. You have guards 24/7 and always around you. And because of that almost incident, you can't publicy reveal your relationship.

***

"Your scent...I love how you smell..." he murmurs. "It's the same scent I smelled when we first met." He kisses your skin in between your thighs.

Slowly he peels the thights off you revealing your cold skin.

"You're wet." He smiles again. Then kisses your stomach sending chills all over your body.

"Because of you..." you say as you lay your back on the bed.

He climbs on top of you slowly as he kisses every inch of skin. "My one and only..." he hums

"Your one and only..." you say before closing your eyes and absorbing all the sparky kisses he's giving you.

He pauses when he reached your shoulder so he can slip off his shirt, exposing his buff yet lean body.

"Look at me." He says

You open your eyes, seeing his pecks, firm arms and tight abs. "You're so beautiful..." you mumble

He leans back down so he could kiss you again. He sucks your tongue before he insert his to your mouth. Exploring every bits of you.

"Oh San..." you moan his name as you switch places with him.

You are now on top. Lips still attached to his whilst you unhook your bra and throw it on the floor.

You take his hand and make sure he gets a handful of you. "Damn..." he snarls looking down and admiring your bouncy breast.

"I love it when you touch me." You breathe as you watch him enjoy squishing your boobs while you move your hips, making sure your clothed wet core is rubbing over his still covered dick.

"You sound naughty..." he smirks, reaching for another kiss.

"Only for you." You kiss back.

Everything is going smoothly and steamy between you two. You continue to make out and enjoy every bits of moment you can have. Not until San's phone rings.

"Oh for fuck's sake." He throws his head back, frustrated.

"Answer it. It might be important..." you say as you stop kissing and licking his peck.

"I'll make it quick." He says before he picks up the call. "Yes?" His voice changes in seconds. Firm and husky.

You don't mind him working like being on meetings or doing phone calls when you are together. You understand his job. All that matters to you is, he's with you.

***

The call have now passed 15minutes. You are starting to get bored. You know the call is important. It sounds important. However, you are as horny as fuck. You two have been making out and teasing each others kinks since earlier so your naughty hat is on.

You smile to yourself as an idea hits you. "I love you..." you whisper, which he can only hear.

His glances down at you quickly, smiling, before he continued listening to the person across the line.

The smile is not enough for you as a reaction. You get up on your knees and kneel between his legs. He is watching you. You already got his attention just by showing him again your figure.

"I love you..." you whisper again. But this time it sounded more alluring.

You bend down to reach the waistband of his sweatpants and pull it down, just enough to let his length free. He is hard as a rock.

"Baby..." he whispers his phone is away from his face.

"I'm entertaining myself as I wait." You answer.

"Ah, yes I'm still here. Sorry." He says to the person he's talking too.

Lowering your head, you open your mouth and let your tongue touch the tip of his length. You could feel his body tenses as you do it more.

"Ahm... yeah. I get it." His voice breaks for a bit there. He cleared his throat and then grabs your one wrist with his free hand. "Maybe... we should wait." He says

He is referring to you but I guess his answer matches the topic they are talking about. But as you being a tiny bit naughty tonight, you shake your head and continued to tease him.

Giving him little kisses and licks at the beginning before fully sucking him hard and whole.

You watch him as pleasure him. He's working so hard not the break and moan your name like the usual.

You know he likes what you are doing. He is leaking and his length is twitching at every swirl of your tongue around it.

"Can we talk about this some other day?" He snaps. "I just need to fuck my girlfriend now or I'll explode." He was silent for three seconds and then, "good." Then he ends the call and throws his phone on the floor.

"Who is that?" You got worried by him saying he'll fuck you instead of continueing the business call.

"It's Seonghwa. And don't worry about him." He grabs you by your hair pulls you a bit closer. "Focus on sucking my dick... and make me cum."

A grin spreads across your lips. "What will be my reward... if I make you..." you then teasingly lick from bottom to tip. "Cum?"

He grabs you by your jaw and kisses the corner of your lips. "I'll fuck you 'till sunrise and make sure you can't walk... meaning you will need my help for you to visit your parents..."

You giggle, excited and challenged. "Okay... challenge accepted."

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allllium · 11 months ago

Text

Christmas Eve

~ I have multiple things I'm currently writing but it might take a bit before they're posted. Between being sick and now having an ear infection I want to do literally nothing

~ Fluff, WC: 1,456

~ Matt and Reader celebrate their first Christmas together ~

You and Matt didn't get together until after Christmas of last year, meaning this is your first Christmas as a couple. Before, being friends meant Christmas never had this kind of pressure to give the perfect gifts.

But now it's different. You've been worrying all month about finding the perfect gift for Matt. It's hard to shop for someone who keeps insisting all he needs is you. As sweet as that is, you already know he has something for you. You refuse to give him something in return.

“Foggy, I'm serious. I've been everywhere in Hell's Kitchen. I can't find anything.” Today is Christmas Eve, and you still haven't found anything good enough to give Matt

“I've had his gift picked out for months.” Foggy shrugs from across you.

“Of course you have, and I should have one too, but now that we're dating it feels like there's all this dumb pressure.”

“Matt will love whatever you give him. You don't even have to get him anything. Just spend the day naked, and he'll be more than happy.”

“I hate you. You are zero help.”

“You're putting too much pressure on it. Nothing has changed just because you're dating now.”

“What did you get, Marci?”

“Some of her favorite perfume and a necklace.”

“Ugh, she'll love that.”

“I know. She's easy to shop for.” He finishes off the rest of his sandwich and wipes his hands on his pants. “I have a meeting with a client. Are you good?”

“Yeah, I'm good. I'll figure it out. Bye Fog.” He nods at you and walks back to the office.

On the way back to Matt's apartment, you walk by a little store having a Christmas Eve sale. The best part is they have an adorable daredevil stuffie in the window.

It's exactly what you would've gotten him in the previous years. It's perfect.

“What did you get?” Matt asks the second you walk in the door. Smelling the paper bag it came in.

You walk over to him on the couch, placing the bag on the counter, and sitting in his lap. “I can't tell you it's for Christmas.”

“I thought I said you didn't have to get me anything.” He gives you one of those beautiful smiles he has. It's unfair how he always looks this good. He hasn't changed out of his work clothes, now just sitting in his dress pants and shirt.

“And I thought I said if you get me something, I'm getting something for you.” You run your hand softly through his hair, enjoying his touch after a day apart.

“I don't want you to spend money on me.”

You roll your eyes at him. “If you keep saying that I'm gonna spend all of my money on you until I go bankrupt, and then I'll be homeless.”

“You wouldn't dare.”

“You wanna bet?”

“Fine, you can spend as much money as you want on me.” He looks so cute when he pouts.

“That's what I thought.” You lean down to kiss him for the first time since you got home. “Hi, Matty.”

“Hi, sweetheart.”

“How was work?” You turn your head to lay on his shoulder.

“It was good. It's a lot slower close to Christmas.”

“Hm, good. Y’know, Foggy suggested I spend tomorrow naked as your Christmas present, but you definitely wouldn't like that.” You giggle as his face turns up in fake disgust.

“Oh no, that would be terrible. I wouldn't enjoy that at all.”

“Yeah, that's what I thought.”

“Or maybe that's my gift to you.”

“Oh no, can't both be naked. What would we do all day?” You ask in fake concern. He leans up to kiss you again, but you pull away. “I have to go wrap your present.”

“No, do you have to do that right now?” He pouts.

“Yes, I do. You're adorable when you pout.” When you go to stand, he follows you with an arm around your waist.

“Can't it wait?”

“No, it can't. Christmas is tomorrow. Matthew let me go.” You use his real name to display your seriousness, although it's not as effective when you're laughing.

“You don't have to wrap. I can't see it anyway.”

“Matt!” You laugh. “I'm wrapping it, and you can't stop me. So why don't you stay here and order us some dinner? Okay?”

“Fine, I'll just stay here all alone.” He plops back on the couch as you shake your head at him.

“Have I ever told you how dramatic you are?”

“All the time.”

“Yeah, I'll be right back.” You go into the bedroom to wrap Matt's present in leftover wrapping paper. Matt has no idea people have made anything daredevil-related.

“See, that took me like two minutes.” You announce to Matt as you walk back into the living room.

“That was way too long.” You move to sit with him once again.

“Why are you so clingy today?”

“No reason, it must be the Christmas spirit.”

“Hmm, yeah, this Christmas does have a lot of spirit.”

“The first Christmas after we met, I was gonna ask you out.” You turn to look at him in disbelief.

“What? Why didn't you?”

“I was nervous, and you didn't show any signs of liking me.”

“No signs of liking you!? Matt, you could hear my heart.”

“I could, but I assumed it sped up like that because you were anxious about meeting a new person.”

“And you thought I was like that for two years?”

“I didn't want to ruin anything!” He defends. “Hey, why didn't you do anything!?”

“Because I didn't want to ruin anything!?”

“Exactly!” You both laugh at the direction this conversation has taken.

“Well, we're together now, so it was all worth it.” You point out.

“Yes, it was.” He smiles and pulls you closer. Your head lays on his chest.

“Wait a minute, Matt, I told Karen I liked you multiple times while you could hear?”

“Maybe it was a different Matt.”

“Matt, what the fuck?” You laugh again.

“I liked you. I just didn't believe you liked me the same amount.”

“You liked me?”

“Yes, I liked you, now I love you.”

“You're lucky you're so sweet 'cause sometimes you have no common sense.” He plants a kiss on your forehead.

“You have just as much common sense as me.”

“Uh oh.”

You wake up the next morning to the smell of peppermint and the faint sound of Christmas music filling the apartment.

“Morning, sweetheart.” He comes into the room with a mug of hot chocolate. He hands the mug to you as he sits next to you on the bed.

“Good morning, baby. What's all this for?”

“Well, it's our first Christmas together. I figured it should be a little special.” As you listen to him, your heart warms.

“Thank you, Matty. You're amazing y'know.”

“I do, thanks to you.”

“Hm, good. So what do you have planned?” You sit up in bed.

“I think first we should open our gifts, then we'll hang out with everyone.”

“Sounds good. You're going to love what I got you.”

“You're gonna love mine too.” He grabs your hands and pulls you out of bed.

You both make your way to the tiny Christmas tree sitting in the corner. Only two presents under it.

“Here you go, honey.” Matt hands you a small square box wrapped in red paper. “I had Karen wrap it.”

“I can tell. Karen also wraps presents perfectly.” When you pull the paper off the box, there's a black jewelry box. When you open the black box, there is a silver bracelet. “Matt, this is beautiful!”

“Look at the side.” You pull the bracelet out of the box and look at the side. On each side, there is an engraving. One side says ‘my heart,’ and the other is in braille. “It says my name.”

“Holy shit Matt this is amazing!” You throw yourself onto him in a tight hug.

“I'm glad you like it.” He has a giant smile at your reaction.

“I don't want you to spend money on me.” You mock his words from last night. “This must have cost so much.”

“I know a guy, don't worry.”

“Well, now my gift isn't as good in comparison.” You hand him the box containing the stuffie.

“Is this me?” He asks in surprise as he rips open the paper.

“Yes, it is. It's Daredevil merch.”

“They make this stuff?”

“Yes.” You laugh at his shock

“Thank you, sweetheart, this is so cute.”

“Yeah, and it looks just like you.” You joke. The little stuffed devil looks nothing like Matt.

“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Matt.” You lean your head on his shoulder, still admiring your bracelet.

#matt murdock my beloved #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock imagines #matt murdock one shot #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fic #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock reader insert #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murderdock x female reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x gender neutral reader #no y/n

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mischievouslittlecreature · 5 months ago

Text

Part 21: The Shadow of the Abattoir

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Summary: A letter is delivered to Arrow House, and with it comes promises of death and destruction.

Word Count: 4,403

Notes: Warnings for references to violence and sexual content.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 2: Black Hand

With perhaps a bit more relish than was necessary–though in her defense, the hat had truly offended her–Lucy tossed the aforementioned article of clothing into the fire, purring happily to herself as she watched the fine black fabric shrivel and char.

In all fairness, if Tommy really had liked the hat that much, she wouldn’t have been on such a warpath to destroy it. But she could tell he didn’t really care for it either, and as his lover she felt it was her responsibility to save him from any truly terrible fashion choices he attempted to make.

“Bye, bye, you terrible, terrible hat,” she smiled to herself as the fire popped, flames consuming the bowler hat quickly. Tommy rolled his eyes, chuckling fondly and pressing a kiss to her temple when he walked by on the way to his desk.

“Happy now?”

“Mhm. Very. Thank you.”

He shot her that fond, I would do anything for you, look that made her go all mushy inside. Curling up in one of the armchairs by the fire with a cup of tea clutched in her hands, she watched him stand over his desk, flicking through the newspaper and looking far too handsome for his own good. She bit her lip, reminding herself to behave.

She had plans for him, of course. But they could wait until after Charlie had gone to bed.

Frances came in with the post and a few questions about the arrangements for tomorrow. She was a lovely woman who’d replaced Mary as the housekeeper almost a year ago. Lucy adored her. She was sweet and incredibly good with Charlie. They could rest easy with her looking after him while they were away.

While Frances spoke with Tommy, Lucy let her gaze sweep lazily across the room. Next to the fireplace, a huge Christmas tree had been erected, adorned with red ribbons and candles. She and Tommy weren’t exactly religious, but they’d figured that for Charlie, they ought to at least indulge in a little bit of tradition. She eyed the small mountain of presents under the tree, most of them for Charlie, but she’d noticed many with her name scrawled on them in Tommy’s looping handwriting, and knew that there were a good share of gifts with Tommy’s name on them; some that she’d bought for Charlie to give to his father, and some that were specifically from her.

Not too bad of a haul this year, if she did say so herself.

Lucy flashed a grateful smile Frances’s way as the housekeeper departed the room, eyes tracking back to Tommy as the door swung shut behind her. He was flicking through the mail, expression uninterested until he came to one specific envelope. His face shifted as he tossed the other mail onto the desk, ripping open what to her looked to be but a nondescript, plain white envelope.

“What is it?” Lucy asked, straightening up and setting her teacup down hastily when he opened it and she saw the look on his face as he took in the contents of the letter. At the way his expression collapsed into a look of horror and mild terror, she shot up out of her seat, rushing across the room to his desk. Already, she could see things happening behind Tommy’s eyes, his mind adjusting and working with whatever horrid new information had just been thrown at him.

She hurried around to his side of the desk to stand next to him, head craning to examine the open letter he’d dropped onto its wooden surface.

Scrawled on one side, in tight, meticulous cursive, it read:

Merry Christmas to you and your family.

From Luca Changretta & family.

On the other side, taking up the entire page, framed with a thick, black border, was the imprint of a single, ink black hand.

“Holy fuck,” she took a staggering step back, as if the black hand printed upon the letter might somehow be contagious. “Holy fuck. That’s…”

“A black hand,” Tommy finished for her, voice sounding like it was very far away. “The Sicilian Mafia.”

“Luca Changretta is Vincente Changretta’s last living son, right?”

“That’s right,” he still sounded like he was only half there, mind racing with thoughts and developing strategies as he examined the new situation from every possible angle. “Everyone will have been sent one.”

“That means that they know where everyone lives.”

He nodded, slowly, staring at the far wall, still processing. Lucy decided to just shut her mouth and let him think.

“Vendetta…” he whispered, more to himself than to her. Then, louder, “you remember what I told you about vendetta?”

Vendetta. An eye for an eye. Vengeance, usually in retaliation for the death of a family member, extracted in the form of complete and total destruction of the family or organization that had inflicted said death.

No one would be safe. Not even those who did not know anything about what had transpired with Tommy, her, Arthur, John, and Vincente Changretta.

“Yes,” she said, quietly, looking around the room, suddenly feeling lost. “I’m assuming it doesn’t matter to them that Vincente’s death was in retaliation for them killing Grace, right?”

“No,” Tommy shook his head. “No, it doesn’t matter,” he was still staring at the wall. “They’ll be coming for us all.”

She shivered, swallowing hard and turning away to face the windows, rubbing a hand across her forehead and wetting her lips.

A year. They’d had a year of mostly peace. The sudden prospect of conflict had her feeling as though she were adrift at sea, panicky with the realization that she was not quite sure where to begin in how to handle the situation now developing in front of them.

“Fuck,” she whispered under her breath. “Tommy…”

When she turned back to him, it was to find him standing with his hands braced widely on the desk, jaw clenched while his blue eyes just stared at nothing on the far wall. Tentatively, she put a hand on his shoulder, and he seemed to rouse a bit beneath her touch, sighing and then pulling himself back up to his full height.

“You…you have to tell me what to do,” she whispered. He looked at her, and he must have seen a little of the mounting panic on her face, because he took hold of her hands, resting them on his chest and squeezing.

“I need you to go get Charlie. Bring him in here with us. Make sure your revolver is loaded and with you at all times. Keep a couple knives with you too, just in case.”

She nodded, already feeling calmer at the authoritative tone in his voice as he took control of the situation. He leaned forward, kissing her forehead.

“Be ready. They could come for us at any time.”

Nodding, she moved to go to the door. Tommy reached around to yank closed the curtains, plunging the office into dimness.

“What will you do?”

“I need to call Moss,” he said, lighting a cigarette and reaching for the phone. “Get as much information on Luca Changretta and his men as possible.”

“He might be able to find out if they’re already in England.”

He nodded. “I’ll have him check.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back with Charlie,” she said, and stepped out of the room, heart pounding in her throat.

∗ ∗ ∗

Lucy raised an eyebrow as she watched Tommy pour a glass of whiskey from the crystal decanter on his desk. The action itself wasn’t necessarily odd. What was odd was his plucking it up along with the plate carrying a pastry and a carrot, and taking them over to where Charlie was sitting in a chair next to the fireplace.

Perhaps Santa was in need of something a little stronger than a glass of milk, this year.

She smiled to herself, sitting up slightly in her chair to watch as Charlie gingerly took the plate from Tommy, hopping out of his seat and following his father’s gentle instructions to set the plate down by the grate guarding the fireplace for Santa to find. Tommy knelt down next to him, and Lucy had to smother a laugh when he leaned over, nudging the glass of whiskey to join the plate.

Her heart squeezed happily at the sight of Tommy wrapping Charlie up in a big hug, the little boy looping his arms around his father’s neck while Tommy wished him a merry Christmas.

They’d decided to do what they could to make things seem as normal as possible for the boy. So they wouldn’t scare him.

Slipping out of her chair, she knelt down, smiling when Charlie turned to her and hugged her too.

“Good night, sweetheart,” she squeezed him back, giving him a kiss to the forehead. “Merry Christmas.”

He smiled sweetly at them both, then took Frances’s hand to let her lead him from the room and up the stairs to bed. Tommy remained kneeled on the floor, playing with his knuckles. Without Charlie there to provide motivation for them to keep up the facade that everything was alright, a dark cloud of foreboding seemed to pass over the room.

Finally, with a grunt, Tommy leaned over, snagging the whiskey glass on the floor by the plate Charlie had dropped off, and stood. Lucy snatched up the plate, taking a bite of the pastry. Tommy’s steps boomed across the floor before cutting off with a large sigh, leather creaking a little when he sank into one of the chairs in front of his desk. Lucy watched him closely, licking a few crumbs off her fingers. He had his head tipped back, glass of whiskey dangling from one hand, and despite the clear stress and worry in his eyes, his lap looked very inviting.

She shook her head, setting the plate down, trying to get her hormones in check no matter how difficult he made it sometimes.

Slinking around to him, she settled herself carefully across his lap, arm wrapping around his neck. Her weight sinking into him seemed to help pull him from whatever thoughts had been swirling around in his head, the hand not still clutching his glass of whiskey wrapping around her waist.

With a hum, she dropped her face into his neck, snuggling into his warm body.

“I suppose this all sort of puts a damper on the Christmas Eve blow job I had planned, doesn’t it?”

His brows raised, and she was close enough to see the way that his pupils dilated slightly, tongue darting out to wet his lips. The warmth of his hand coming to rest on her thigh was nice, and did nothing to help in regards to the wrestling match she was currently engaged in with her need for him.

“Mm,” his hum vibrated in his chest, buzzing pleasantly against her. He touched her cheek, small smile pulling at the edges of his lips. “Well…maybe…”

He was cut off by the approaching roar of an engine outside, and both of them went still, smiles falling right off their faces, the brief moment of levity replaced by deep-seated dread. In one quick movement, Lucy jumped off of his lap to her feet. Tommy stood from the chair, setting his glass down on the desk and hurrying around it to peer out the closed drapes covering the window.

Yanking out her keys, Lucy went for the door, stepping out into a sitting room. A moment later she heard Tommy’s hasty footfalls behind her, his longer stride meaning that he caught up to her quickly, taking the key she already had in her hand and held out to him. The locks on the cabinet in the sitting room clicked, creaking in minor complaint as they were shoved open. Nestled inside, carefully organized, were rows of guns of various sizes and firepower. Tommy grabbed two Mauser C96s with stock from the cupboard, handing one to her, closing up the doors again while she returned to the office, pulling the gun from its wooden holster stock and fitting it together to a click. She checked it while Tommy joined her a moment later, fitting his own gun together.

It was not lost on her how, when he turned to again peer out the window at the approaching car, he positioned himself in a way that was shielding her.

Headlights splashed yellow light across the window, and he jerked back, lowering the drapes until the light had passed by. The car outside had stopped moving but hadn’t shut off, just idling near the front door. Tommy peaked out again. Lucy stretched up onto her toes, trying in vain to see over one of his broad shoulders.

Tommy suddenly relaxed, pulling away from the window. “It’s Ada.”

Lucy blinked, her mind so soaked with sudden adrenaline that it took her a second to process his words. The tension in her shoulders drained, grip loosening slightly on the gun. “Oh.”

Tommy hummed, taking her gun from her and setting it down along with his onto the desk. She let out a heaving sigh, leaning forward until her forehead bumped into the center of his chest. He wrapped a soothing arm around her, rubbing her back as she took a deep breath.

“Alright?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she nodded, raising her head, giving her hands a little shake to try to dispel the lingering adrenaline. Tommy kissed the side of her head, then went to the decanter of whiskey, pouring a fresh glass and handing it to her. “Thanks.”

He nodded, prepping another one for Ada. Lucy took a generous gulp from her glass, the burn of the whiskey helping to settle the nerves the shot of adrenaline had left her with.

Ada looked more or less the same from the last time she’d seen her. Her hair was done a little fancier, her clothes more expensive, but under all that it was the same Ada.

She rolled her eyes fondly when Tommy didn’t even start with a greeting, instead instantly jumping into rattling off about the letter. But he hugged her warmly with one arm, and Lucy smiled when Ada went to embrace her next, giving the woman who had become something like a sister to her a hug.

“Hello, Ada.”

“Hi, Lucy,” she pulled back, moving about with her bag of presents towards the tree while Tommy continued to tell her everything he had already told Lucy regarding what information they’d been able to collect on Luca Changretta over the past few hours, as well as his orders and plans for a family meeting after Christmas.

He gave Ada a gun to take with her before she left, and after another parting hug, she was out the door, heading to Polly’s. Lucy huffed. She wouldn’t want to have had that job. Out of all of them, Polly was the one who’d held the most wrath in her heart towards Tommy regarding the arrests and almost-hangings. Ada might have to knock her out and drag her to Charlie’s yard by the hair.

Once she was gone and her car pulled off down the drive, Tommy rubbed at his eyes. “I need to call John and Arthur.”

Lucy nodded. She was a little surprised that he hadn’t already. If she didn’t know any better, she’s say he was procrastinating. Going to him, she wrapped her arms around his ribs in a hug.

“If they’ve gotten the letters too, then they’ll know how serious things are. They may be stubborn, but they care about their wives and their children. They’ll do what they need to to keep them safe.”

He nodded, hugging her back. Pulling away just enough to angle her head up and kiss him, she felt him relax a little under her arms, humming against her lips. He touched her cheek after they parted, taking hold of a stray red curl that had fallen there and rubbing it between his fingers.

“I’m sorry that this has fucked up our Christmas.”

“Oh, love, no…” she cupped either side of his face, leaning her forehead against his. “It’s alright. We’ll be fine.”

He pecked her again, giving a slight squeeze to her waist before reaching for the phone. When she pulled away and moved to take a step back, he caught at her arm.

“Stay,” he requested quietly. Feeling her face soften, Lucy nodded, lingering close to his side as he lifted the receiver to his ear, asking to be put through to John’s house. She listened as it rang, over and over again, until finally Tommy cursed and slammed it down. With a frown, she touched his shoulder.

“It’s late. Maybe they’re already asleep.”

“Maybe,” he didn’t sound wholly convinced, but he picked up the phone again, this time asking the operator to put him through to Arthur’s. This time, someone did pick up, and Lucy breathed a sigh of relief at the rumble of Arthur’s voice on the other line, and not Linda’s.

Tommy was quick and to the point with his instructions, hanging up the phone soon as he was done.

“Okay,” she said, nodding to herself. “That’s done. What’s next?”

∗ ∗ ∗

She was curled in his lap, watching lazily as Tommy scribbled down notes. Her face rested in his neck, eyes blinking slow and sleepy. He’d pulled her into his arms almost as soon as he sat down. Even though he’d been mostly silent, just brooding and strategizing, she could recognize the silent desire to keep her close. Probably out of both protectiveness and the need for comfort.

That was all fine with her; his lap was very comfortable, his chest warm. And he smelled good.

Unable to help herself, she turned her face to press a quick, light peck to one of his sharp, freckled cheekbones, nuzzling him like a cat. His hand petted the back of her head before falling to rest on her thigh.

“You’re distracting me,” he hummed, a trace of amusement under the gruffness of his stress-strained voice. Lucy tucked her face back into his neck, smiling to herself as she watched him, his stern blue eyes never leaving the page he was staring at, blinking behind the lenses of his glasses as he spoke.

“Sorry.”

He just pecked the top of her head with a small chuckle, and carried on working.

She sighed, eyes drifting closed of their own accord. It had been a long day and she was tired. It was unlikely they’d be sleeping much, if at all, tonight, and tomorrow would be equally as long. She needed to catch some rest when she could.

“If you’re tired, you could go up to bed. Or lay on the couch, if you’d rather…” Tommy started, hand stroking her thigh.

She shook her head, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Comfortable here.”

His lips brushed her cheek. “Alright, then.”

Lucy was just starting to doze when Frances came in, and while she did not open her eyes or initially pay all that much attention to the conversation, she could practically feel it under Tommy’s skin as he battled to control his temper. Dropping one hand from where it was still locked around his neck, she rubbed his chest absentmindedly in a way that she hoped to be calming.

Frances was still talking. Something about the chef asking questions. “He says it’s about preparation, sir.”

There was something about that. About the way it was phrased. Alarm bells went off, suddenly and sharply, in her head. Tommy’s muscles stiffened against her, no doubt because he was feeling the same thing that she was. He started to ask Frances more questions about the chef.

He was new. He joined only about two months ago. Lucy remembered. He was also foreign.

“He’s Italian, sir,” Frances said. Lucy’s eyes snapped open.

“Oh,” Tommy murmured, lips parted as he processed. He looked to Lucy, saw that her eyes were open and watching him. “When he joined us, you had background checks done on him?”

“Of course. They were all clean,” she was always careful. Especially when it came to anyone that they hired to work in the house.

“He’s the best chef we’ve ever had in the house,” Frances supplied, answering all Tommy’s questions with no hesitation. She paused for a moment, then added, “the only problem has been his assistant.”

Both Tommy and Lucy’s heads whipped around to her. “What assistant?” they both asked at the same time. The hand Tommy had on Lucy’s thigh tightened protectively as Frances explained that the chef had brought a sous chef with him.

Fuck. The chef had never mentioned bringing someone else with him during his interviews or when they brought him into the house.

Tommy dismissed Frances for the evening, and gave Lucy a light tap on the thigh to indicate that he wanted to stand. She jumped off of his lap.

“Get me the chef’s employee file.”

“Yeah,” she went to the records, flipping through the files they kept on each employee until she found the right one, handing it over to him. “I never ran any background checks on a sous chef. I didn’t even know he’d brought one.”

Tommy didn’t say anything as he took the file from her, flipping it open. She peered over his shoulder, biting her lip and wringing her hands together. He sorted through the papers, a couple of them menus from the chef’s previous locations of employment. He raised one up to the light.

“San Marcos,” he said.

“Sabini used to own it. I asked you about it when I ran the checks on him. Because he’d never directly interacted with Sabini we decided it wasn’t an issue,” she tapped the note she’d made in the margin of the menu about it. “For all appearances, he looked to just be a normal employee there.”

“The assistant might not have been just a normal employee, though.”

“Sabini’s never exactly warmed to us. It wouldn’t take much for him to decide to help Changretta,” she bit her lip, looking down at the menu. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think–”

“Not your fault,” he shook his head. “I didn't think it would be an issue either,” looking over the papers in the file, he huffed.

“I’m going to have to go down to the kitchens. You stay up here–”

“Absolutely not.”

“Love, please,” he rubbed at his eyes.

“If the assistant is with the Changrettas, it’s possible others in the kitchen are too. I’m not about to let you be butchered and hung up on one of our own bloody meat hooks.”

He looked at her for a long time, and she sighed, reaching out, resting her hands on his forearms.

“Vendetta is here, Tom. It’s happening. Which means as much as you may hate it, you may have to trust me to do one of the jobs you initially hired me for, but have barely let me actually do recently.”

His hands slid to cradle her elbows, frown deepening. “It’s not an issue of trust, Luce…”

“I know,” she leaned closer to him, foreheads resting against each other. Tommy’s jaw ticked, and she squeezed his arms. She knew why he didn’t send her out to kill people nearly as often as he probably should have; instead getting his brothers or another hired gun of theirs to carry out the bulk of assassinations.

It was part of what he had initially hired her to do when he brought her on. But that was before he fell in love–or at least, according to him, before he was aware that he’d fallen in love. And especially over the past year, the amount of killings he’d asked her to do were close to zero.

She understood. After what happened to Grace, neither of them had been all too eager to leave the other’s side. He’d become protective. Even more than he’d already been.

“It’ll be okay,” she said hoarsely. “You’re not gonna lose me.”

He closed his eyes, looking as if he were in pain. Lucy squeezed him again, demanding his attention.

“At the very least, you can’t ask me to just sit up here and hope that you come back from the kitchens in one piece. I can’t do that, Tommy,” she swallowed hard around a sudden lump of anxiousness in her throat. “I can’t just sit around here, doing nothing and feeling useless when you could be down there getting your head smashed in or worse–” sudden horrid memories, of that time he’d gone to kill Father John Hughes by himself and came back to her half dead, skull fractured and blood oozing from his ears, clinging to her as he danced on the line between life and death, as they waited helplessly for Ada to pull the car up to the hospital, hoping that it wouldn’t be too late–

“Alright, alright,” Tommy’s voice dropped, soothing as he took note of her panicked features. His hands grasped her face, guiding it to look up at him, his eyes open and staring at her sternly. He drew in a deep breath. “Alright,” he said, with more conviction, bending to her requests. She sagged a little in relief. The sternness in his eyes sharpened. “But you stay close to me.”

“Of course.”

He examined her face for another moment, then nodded. His arm hooked around her shoulders, pulling her close to kiss her forehead before letting her go. “You have your knives?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

She followed him out the door, weaving through the halls and assorted rooms of the mansion.

“Thank you,” she whispered, truly grateful. Tommy looked over his shoulder at her, and while he said nothing, his eyes softened a fraction, understanding.

They both knew that the absolute bitch fit he would throw if he were asked to stay put while she placed herself into potential danger alone would be truly fantastic. One for the ages. They’d write about it in the history books.

They got to the stairs leading down to the servant’s quarters and the kitchens, both of them staring in quiet dread at the darkness that the stairs led down to.

Tommy moved first, hand resting on the wooden handrail, shoes thunking against the wood with every step down. Lucy took a deep breath, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear, and followed him in his descent down into the darkness.

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#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #peaky blinders #my ocs #lucy winters #lucy winters x tommy shelby #love me where i'm most ruined #lily writes #my fanfiction

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whoisshel · 1 year ago

Text

One Month Later

(i made this gif! pretty proud of it tbh, never made one from a tv show before)

pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

word count: 2002

tw: swearing

previous part

It’s been a month since the battle against the Demogorgon (you have learned that’s what the boy’s call the monster) and you still wake up from nightmares a few times a week. You can still see the Demogorgon with its face wide open, showing off its layers of sharp teeth, running at you. In some dreams you kill it, but in others it gets to you first, and in the worst ones it kills all your family and friends. You try to hide it, but sometimes it’s your mom or Eddie that have to wake you up.

Your mom has been a big help for the past month; you’re happy to finally have the mom you've always wanted. Your dad still chooses to do work over anything else though. Eddie’s been a big help too, but you can tell that, even though he doesn’t push you, he'd like it if you would talk about what happened. He knows you too well to know it wasn’t just a car accident that wakes you up screaming; especially since you woke up the same way the day before the accident.

It’s Christmas day now, and you were just finishing up eating with your mom while your dad took phone calls in his office.

“Hey mom, after we finish up eating, I’m going to head over to Nancy’s to drop the gifts off then go to Eddie’s; that okay with you?” You asked, cutting up a piece of turkey and taking a bite.

Pam took a sip of wine to help wash down her bite before replying, “Yeah, just be careful and make sure to call me once you make it to Eddie’s.”

You thanked your mom enthusiastically, you then picked up your plate that now only had scraps on it and placed it in the kitchen sink. You quickly walked over to the door, grabbed the bag of gifts, and yelled goodbye over your shoulder. You walked across your yard into the Wheelers’, taking notice of Jonathan’s car parked out front. As soon as you walked up to the front door, Jonathan and Will walked out.

“Hey, guys.” You said excitedly, with a big smile. “Glad I got here before you two left.”

“Hey Y/N.” The two brothers said in unison.

Digging around in your bag, you found the present that was for Will and handed it to him. “This one is for you, and this one's for you.” You pulled out another present setting it on the present that was already in Jonathan’s hands.

“Y/N, how many times do I have to tell you to stop giving us gifts?” Jonathan tried to sound stern, but the appreciative smile on his face gave him away.

You waved your hand nonchalantly, giving a humorous scoff, “You know I like to buy presents, so of course I’m getting you guys something. It’s Christmas for god’s sake.”

“Actually it’s for Jesus.” Will chimed in, earning a fist bump from you at his joke.

Jonathan rolled his eyes at their ridiculousness, “Fine, but nothing for my birthday.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“I’ll always accept gifts.” Will beamed up at you

Jonathan gave his brother a light shove on the shoulder, “Get in the car.”

“Bye, Will!” You called to Will as he ran to Jonathan’s car, Will yelled bye in return. You turned back to Jonathan, pulling him into a hug. “Bye Jonathan, I’ll see you later.”

“See ya, Y/N.” Jonathan pulled away from the hug, walking to his car.

You walked into the house and made your way to the living room where Nancy and Steve sat on the couch and Mr. Wheeler sat in his chair asleep.

“Hey, Nance.” You said, giving Nancy a smile. You then looked over to Steve, dropping the smile. “Sup, airhead.”

Steve dramatically threw his arms up. “After everything that happened, when are you going to stop hating me.”

“Um, how many years did you let Tommy and Carol bully me.”

“That's fair.” Steve nodded his hand in understanding.

“Well as fun as this has been, I just came here to drop off some gifts.” You said, taking out the gifts for Eddie and Wayne before handing the bag over to Nancy. “There’s one each for you two, and could you give the kid’s theirs.”

“Yeah, of course.” Nancy replied, knowing that she was who you were talking to, and not Steve who you wouldn’t trust to handle the task.

Steve looked up at you with big eyes and his eyebrows raised, a smile slowly gracing his face, “You got me a present?”

“Don’t get all mushy about it.” You rolled your eyes. “I’m leaving now.”

You walked over to Nancy giving her hug as they both said goodbye to each other. Steve said bye to you, but you just kept walking out the door and over to your car.

You pulled up to Eddie’s trailer, parking the car, you grabbed the presents and walked straight into the trailer.

“Knock knock.” You said, closing the door behind you. As soon as the door was shut, you could hear something falling to the ground and then the sound of someone running getting closer to you.

Before you could fully turn around, you felt yourself being lifted off the ground causing the presents to fall out of your hands. After a few spins, Eddie set you back down and reached over to give you an overdramatic kiss on the cheek. Eddie loosened his grip on your waist so you could turn around to face him, putting your arms around his shoulders. Reaching up on your toes, you gave your boyfriend a proper kiss on the lips.

Pulling back to look in your eyes, Eddie gave a soft, “Hi, how’s my favorite girl?”

“She’s good.” You said in the same soft tone, “She has to call her mother to let her know she made it, before your phone starts ringing off the hook.”

“Alright you go and do that, and I’ll make you some hot chocolate.”

Giving him another kiss, you then stepped back to go over to their phone. “Sounds delicious.”

Eddie slowly walked backwards to give you a wink, before turning back around towards the kitchen. You picked up the presents and went over to the phone and called your mom, going through all the same questions about how you made it safely, and you’ll drive safely back home tomorrow. Once you were done on the phone you walked over to the living room where Eddie and Wayne were sitting. You sat next to Eddie on the couch, setting the presents on the cushion next to you as Eddie handed you a mug of hot chocolate. After taking a couple sips, you set the mug on the table in front of the couch then handed Wayne his gift.

“I should’ve known you were going to get me something.” Wayne said, setting the gift on his lap so he could look over at you. “You didn’t have to.”

You just shrugged, becoming jittery in your seat and waving your hands at him. “Now open it.”

Wayne unwrapped the box and opened it to find a simple looking black watch with a gold rim; it was the first ever Hublot watch to be exact. Eddie leaned over you to get a better look at the watch then turned to face you with an impressed look.

“I noticed your watch was broke, so I thought this would be a good gift.” You explained, “I thought this one would be good cause all the other watches had so much unnecessary stuff going on.”

“It’s perfect, Y/N, thank you.” Wayne said as he put the watch on, setting it to the correct time.

“Yea!” You clapped your hands a couple times before pointing at the TV. “Now let’s watch the movie.”

“What about my gift?” Eddie whined.

“Shush, after the movie.”

“Fine.” Eddie grumbled, getting up to put the movie in. Since Eddie and you started dating last year, you both decided Black Christmas was the best Christmas movie. Wayne didn’t understand why the two wanted to watch a scary movie for Christmas, but he just went along with it.

Once the movie was finished, Eddie and you settled in Eddie’s room on his bed with your backs leaning against the wall behind it. Eddie had his arm across your shoulder and you were leaning into his side. Feeling like you made him wait long enough, you handed over Eddie’s gift which made him let out an exaggerated gasp as he quickly grabbed it like you would take it away any second. Eddie tore the wrapping paper like a toddler revealing a jean vest with a drawing of the band Dio on the back.

“Holy shit, this is awesome.” Eddie gasped, this time with a genuinely shocked gasp.

At Eddie’s reaction, you had a big smile on your face. “You like it?”

“Oh, I don’t just like it, I loooove it.” Eddie said, stretching out love to show how much he appreciated it. Before you could say anything else, Eddie rolled out of bed landing ungracefully on the ground with a thud. You leaned over to where he fell wondering what the hell he was doing. You then jumped back, startled, when Eddie suddenly jumped up and ran over to his closet. Eddie started throwing clothes out of the closet as he dug at the bottom looking for something. Eddie then pulled out a weirdly shaped, messily wrapped gift.

Walking back over to the bed, he sat down next to you and handed the box over. Once you were able to unwrap the many layers of wrapping paper, you saw two different gifts. On top was a small black box, opening it you saw a red and black marbled guitar pick with a hole poked in the top and a chain going through it.

“Did you make this?” You asked in awe of how sweet the gift is.

“Yeah, now my two favorite girls will always be together.” Pulling the necklace out of the box, he helped put it on you as you pulled your hair up. Once the necklace was on, he pulled out the second part of the gift which was a mixtape that had their names at the top connected by a plus sign. “And this has songs that remind me of us.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet and so very cheesy of you.”

Rolling his eyes, Eddie wrapped his arm back around your shoulders. “Don’t ruin the moment.”

“Thank you for the gifts, I love them.” You reached up to give him a kiss.

After settling down, the two sat together in silence for a moment just staring in front of you enjoying the peace together.

Eddie turned his head to look down at you, deciding to break the silence, “You know how last month I said something and you didn’t hear it, and I said it wasn’t important.”

“Yeah.” You said, confused at what he was getting at. You pulled your head back from its spot on his shoulder, so you could look over at him.

“Well, okay here I go.” Eddie said more to himself trying to compose himself. He looked directly into your eyes. “I love you.”

It took a few seconds, but it finally hit you what he just said and in retaliation you hit him across the chest. In shock, Eddie put his hand where you just hit him. “Ow, what hell was that for? If you didn’t want me to say I love you, you could’ve just told me you didn’t need to hit me.”

“No you doofus, you said it wasn’t important.” You scolded Eddie. Relaxing your face, you went from upset to sweet. “I love you too.”

“You do?” Eddie asked, a mix of shock and joy

“Of course, I love you.”

“I love you too.” You laid your head back on Eddie’s shoulder feeling the happiest and safest you had in awhile.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson x fem!reader #joe keery imagines #joe keery x reader #joseph quinn #joseph quinn imagines #joseph quinn x reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x reader #stranger things fanfic

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