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chelseeebe · 2 months ago

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(i only have) eyes for you

18+. mdni. smut. violence! horror themes throughout!! ghostface!eddie

day seven of spooky week and happy halloween freaks!!! i can’t believe i did it… seven days of consistent posting has taken genuine years off of my life lol. pls pretend they’re in college for this, i wrote it entirely that way and then decided they were going to be in steve’s house.. who knows

a/n: i listened to this song a lot while writing this because it is so creepy but so perfect for this fic! this was sorta kinda rushed but i’ve been working this entire week so finding the time to really delve into it the way i wanted to :,(

⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧

tap tap tap

the sound of something, or really someone rattles against your window, the faint sounds of someone whistling follow shortly after.

despite being wise to eddie’s tricks, the ominous tune makes your skin prickle, too spooked by the news of some masked murderer to think straight.

your window cracks open, the wooden frame scraping upwards loudly, a prolonged creak that signals that whatever it was, was now inside.

his cologne gives him away first, and then the lingering smell of weed that catches up to your nose soon after.

it was eddie, basking in the moonlight, just waiting for you to turn and see him.

“oh my fucking god,” you hiss, “you scared the shit out of me!” scowling as he pulls his limbs through the window.

he wastes no time in kicking off his shoes and practically diving across the room to land atop of you. his heaving chest pressed against yours, finding your frowning lips for a gentle kiss.

“‘m sorry sweetheart,” pouting his lips in an attempt to mock your worried tone, eddie found it endearing really, that you cared about him so.

“there’s a murderer out there, you know?” you scold.

“mhm, is there?”

“yes,” dropping the stern expression the second his hands find the hem of your shirt, delving underneath to grasp your waist, “and i’d really appreciate if you didn’t die.”

“i’m not gonna die,” he says entirely too confidently, “and neither are you.”

“what were you doing out there?”

“i had to.. do some business,” hoping you’d get the hint.

your upper lip snarls, having never liked the fact he dealt on the side. it was mostly a bit of weed to freshmen but the weekends were always busier. “oh,” you huff, running your hands along his sore shoulders.

“you asked,” eddie states plainly. it wasn’t as if he was entirely lying, because he had dropped off a gram for some useless kid.

he had just neglected to tell you what he and steve had done to the kid afterwards.

your eyes roll back, running your fingers up his neck and into his mane of hair, “i wish i hadn’t,” though judging by the fact that you hadn’t kicked him out, you can’t be too mad.

eddie hums, desperately trying to change the subject by trailing his hand further upwards, palming your boob with a soft groan.

“and what if i told you that i was the scary killer?” his knee shifts slightly, moving on top of yours to keep it pressed to the mattress. he’s got you trapped beneath his body, his large hands enveloping both of your wrists.

if you didn’t know eddie so well, you probably would’ve been much more afraid than you were. but you do know him, this had to be some stupid prank, something he’d thought up while high. so you do what he wants you to do and play into it. if he wants to pretend that he’s a weirdo then fine, you can play that game too.

“oh yeah?” you smirk, a feeble attempt to wriggle out of his grasp, “what’re you gonna do to me, mr ghostface?” rutting your hips up to meet his, sighing softly when you feel his hardened cock.

the fact that you’re even into this is simply abhorrent but you can already feel the wet patch growing in your panties, needly bucking your hips desperate for any friction to satiate the growing ache between your thighs.

he chuckles lowly, readjusting his grip on your wrists, leaving one hand pinning them both above your head, “well first..” his breath hot on your cheeks, “i’m going to fuck the shit out of you.” his pupils grow larger, darker somehow, “and then..” prodding his forefinger to your chest, slowly tracing down the length of your torso, “i might just gut you,” his eyes follow his finger all the way down.

you quiver under his touch, breathless. holy fuck. it’s disgusting. it is. but you can’t help yourself, practically panting with animalistic need. it’s not like he was actually going to kill you see, eddie was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a murderer.

“please,” you beg, squirming as his hand slips into the waistband of your jeans. he’s so cold, fingers like blocks of ice that make your skin prickle.

“you want that? hmm?”

you’re gasping at this point, pleading with him to just touch you. he had gotten what he’d wanted from this game so why couldn’t he hurry up? you’re literally jelly beneath him, malleable and just so eager to touch.

“gotta use your words baby.. i wanna hear you,” pausing his descent into your underwear, much to your dismay. legs springing apart as a sort of encouragement to get him to continue.

“yes.. yes i want that,” desperately panting underneath his sly smirk, he’s enjoying this far too much and you can’t help but to just give it to him. so desperate to please, even if it was borderline psychotic.

“good,” he breathes, curling his fingers around the waistband of your sodden underwear. his teeth emerging to graze upon your neck, making sure to leave splotches of violet and deep maroon so that everybody knew whose you really were.

your hips cant upward the second eddie’s fingers tease your hole, crying out for him to cut the shit and just touch you properly. he was a cruel man, unable to satisfy himself with any normal level of foreplay, no. for eddie, he needed to keep this charade up for as long as possible.

“you been thinkin’ ‘bout me?” using his other hand to control your chin, keeping your flickering gaze somewhat on his face, “waiting f’me all night.. i can feel it,” plunging his fingers into your sopping cunt, drawing a sharp hiss from your lips.

“think about you all the time,” you nod, whimpering against his mouth, keeping a strong grip on his neck.

eddie grins, the twinkle returning to his dark eye, letting the charade slip only slightly, “i know you do, and i know it because you never.. ever leave my mind,” his thumb beginning to swirl around your clit, letting go of your jaw to wrap his hands loosely around your neck instead.

“fuckk,” you shudder, canting your hips in response to his fingers gliding in and out of your hole, thumb performing laps around your clit and sensitive folds.

“you’re so beautiful like this,” he utters, dotting hungry kisses to your wetted lips, punctuating his longing words. “i just wanna keep you like this forever,” the hunger returning to his blown out pupils, fingers squeezing your throat.

he wouldn’t hurt you, not on purpose. but his grip was getting mighty tight, restricting your breath as your leg slides up between his. the twisting in your abdomen only worsens, dizzying as the pleasure intensifies.

squeezing out a garbled, “eds,” that makes him loosen his grip, flashing back to reality as you squeeze around his fingers, thrashing around underneath his body as your orgasm rocks your bones, the sweetest sounds fill the room.

“that’s it sweetheart,” eddie coos, sliding his hand from your shorts to grasp your hip, kissing over his previously made markings.

“i love you,” muttering breathlessly as you regain control of your limbs.

he breathes heavily into your neck, cocking his head up to meet your gaze, “i love you too,” beaming at your lovesick gaze, praying to god that you’d never find out about the horrific things he was truly doing tonight.

eddie’s idea of date night usually entails him being able to whisk you off somewhere dark and alone at some point during the night. so when you’d suggested a drive-in movie, he’d been positively over the moon.

he’d thought seeing a nightmare on elm street was a little on the nose considering the shit he’d been up to recently but you couldn’t know and besides, it meant you’d be curled into his shoulder for the majority of the movie anyway.

you sit now, with your face buried into his shoulder, both arms clinging tight to his.

not because of the movie though. no, this was because his right hand had crept underneath your skirt, pumping his fingers in and out of your soaked hole.

it wasn’t as if every other couple weren’t doing the exact same thing, it was an unspoken custom of the drive-in experience.

“wait,” you pant, “let me-,” letting go to reach down, pushing your seat further back. your fingers curl around something plastic, reemerging with the damning mask he’d shoved beneath the seat. “what the fuck is this?” you shriek, sitting straight up.

eddie’s blood runs cold, frozen as you flap the plastic mask in his face. it wasn’t even supposed to be in here, let alone for you to find so easily.

“oh my god,” he sighs, thinking on his toes, “it was for a prank,” grabbing the rubber from your fingers, “me and steve were gonna scare argyle and jonathan… it’s not what you think babe,” hoping that measly excuse would be enough to get you off of his back.

“a prank?” you hiss, “is that funny to you? pretending to be some psycho murderer?” funnily enough, he didn’t really have to pretend.

“no!” he frowns, pettily grabbing at the mask though you keep it out of reach, “that’s why we didn’t do it,” sounding completely desperate as he’s lying through his teeth, “sweetheart, i know what it looks like but i promise it’s not like that,” the guilt ripples through his chest, he didn’t want to lie to you but what choice did he have?

you frown, gripping the cracked plastic as if it could tell you the answer itself, “that’s not funny eddie,” lowering your clenched fist at last, “what if someone had seen you? what if someone else found this?”

you’re angry, it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. pupils dilated and your jaw clenched, he couldn’t bare to ever see you like this. god only knows how you’d react if you ever found out he was truly responsible for these killings.

“i’m sorry,” utterly exasperated, you couldn’t find out, not now, not ever. “i wasn’t thinking.. i’ve just been-,” his nostrils flare, hoping you could forget about this and quickly, “thinking about everyone dying, you know? i’m scared,” grabbing your hands to really accentuate his point.

“we’re all scared, eds,” his nickname allowing him to breathe at last, you’d never use eds when you were mad, never. “that doesn’t mean you should start pretending to kill people too, you’re so.. stupid,” said endearingly, far calmer than you were five minutes ago.

“i know.. i’m sorry baby,” squeezing your fingers together, “i love you, okay?”

your pout could solve wars, an immediate punch to his gut that had him instantly crawling on his knees for forgiveness. it’s no different now, jutting your bottom lip out with a slight quiver, vowing him to never make such a stupid mistake again.

eddie drives this time, rushing back from the large house they’d been at. he doesn’t even know the kids name, he just knows his spleen no longer resided within his gut.

this one was his idea, some kid that’d stiffed him for a couple grams a few months ago. stupid stuff really, but they’d needed to throw the cops off the scent.

“so,” steve begins, pulling eddie from his head, “you still wanna do this?”

he didn’t, not really. not while you were there.

“i don’t see any other way we can end this,” he sighs, turning onto the darkened street, “it has to end,” you were getting too wise, thumbing at the scratch marks on his arm or questioning why he was always out so late recently.

nothing would ever be worth losing you. not in a million years.

“alright,” steve pouts, enjoying this far more than he first let on, “what’re you gonna do about that sweet girlfriend of yours? i think we should spook her first, really up the stakes,” bouncing around the cab of the van.

“absolutely not, don’t even think about getting her involved with this shit,” baring his teeth, appalled that steve would ever even suggest something like that. you were all wide spoke about, filling up his thoughts even as he was driving a knife into the back of jason carver.

“whaat? you don’t even wanna scare her a little? make her squirm,” his smirk evident in his tone.

“i mean it steve,” eddie warns, flashing the boy a harsh glare, “if you touch her, i’ll kill you.”

the car goes silent for a moment until steve cackles, his grin shining through, “not if i kill you first.”

eddie’s blood runs cold, they could end this entire thing right now if that was what he wanted. his knuckles glow white, gripping the steering wheel as opposed to wrapping his hands around steve’s neck, “are you fucking serious?” spitting his words out, “because i’ll do it steve, i won’t fucking hesitate.”

steve pauses, trying to control his heaving breaths, “calm down loverboy, i’m not gonna hurt her,” sucking his teeth as if eddie were the crazed one here, like he hadn’t just been speaking complete sense.

“don’t even joke about that shit,” slapping his hand against the leather steering wheel, “fucking dumbass, i can’t believe you,” looking to steve with utter disbelief in his eye.

“chill out man,” steve calms, relaxing into the seat, “i’m not gonna do anything, wouldn’t wanna piss you off now, would i?”

eddie had thought the entire night through, every second meticulously planned so that you’d never end up in the crossfire. he just needed your willing cooperation and reassurance that his partner in crime wouldn’t lose his mind.

the last, he can’t promise.

steve had been more erratic than ever, obvious that letting go of this power wasn’t anything he wanted. eddie doesn’t know how he can live with the guilt, but then, steve didn’t look into your bright eyes each night and feel that same stab of betrayal he did.

he takes your hand now, leading you up the steep staircase and into the bathroom, under the guise of getting away from the noise, locking the door behind him as you stand at the sink, only slightly concerned.

“what’s this for?” dipping your chin when his hands meet your waist, pressing your back against the cold porcelain.

“i just wanted to.. get away,” eddie remarks, knowing that any minute now, all hell would break loose downstairs and he’d have to stab the shit out of people he called his friend.

“oh yeah? that’s all you wanted me in here for?” walking your fingers up his chest, settling on his shoulder.

“well,” letting his grin cock to the side, “what do you suggest we do in here?”

you hum, a sweet sound that makes his heart race, “i think we could start with a bit of kissing and then.. see where it goes,” weaving your fingers into his hair, bringing his face closer.

“i like the sound of that,” he coos, but the guilt is unimaginable, your oblivious smile soon to be wiped off your face and it’ll be all his fault.

your lips connect in a harmonious symphony, he can feel your smile radiating against his skin, your fingertips tracing light lines on his scalp, a motion that would usually soothe him has him anxious instead.

he so terribly wants to stay here for the duration of the night, or at least until steve had pushed his luck too far and ended up dead.

but that can’t happen, without eddie, this wouldn’t end.

you shift closer, pressing your body to his with a hum, hoping to turn this into something more that he just can’t give right now.

as if by magic, there’s a loud thud from downstairs, a blood curdling scream that echoes through the walls follows behind. your eyes full of pure dread meet his when you spring apart.

“what the fuck was that?” tightening your grip on the back of his neck.

“i.. don’t know,” a barefaced lie, “i’m gonna go and check it out, alright?” coming eye-to-eye with you, a plea of the highest order.

“what? are you fucking crazy?”

“stay here,” he orders, kindly slipping your bra strap back onto your shoulder, “lock the door after me and don’t come out.”

“no! don’t leave me in here,” true terror ringing through your words. he wishes he could tell you that you truly have nothing to worry about. not like the rest of them.

“you’ll be okay,” eddie soothes, grabbing your hand, “i promise,” his thumb tracing patterns onto your wrist.

“please come back quickly,” pleading with him not to go, your fingers shaking as they grasp his arm.

“i will,” pressing his forehead to yours, giving one last squeeze before he breaks apart, “promise,” slipping out of the door, only waiting to hear the quiet click of the lock before scuffling along to steve’s room.

his outfit had been stored in steve’s closet, the dark robe and rubbery mask that had now become dark and cracked. something about the fabric cascading over his skin had him more confident than anything, forgetting all about who was killing, unfazed by their distant screams.

he tiptoes down the stairs, careful not to bump into any stragglers, the knife poised in his hand when he hits the kitchen, fingers twitching around the handle ready to slash whoever came out first.

something squeals from behind the door, giving away their location immediately, some girl steve had tried to fuck, an obvious victim, someone quick and easy, someone you wouldn’t care about too much.

the knife plunges into her side, the dark red liquid spurting out and all over the linoleum floor, he’s sure steve’s dad wouldn’t care too much.

steve stomps through the kitchen, eyeing the scene before nodding to eddie, gesturing he follow him into the living room. it’s a silent affair, they could never know who was listening.

but eddie does as he’s told, walking in to find a barely-breathing tommy hagan, his hand reaching out pathetically as his eyelids flutter and his lungs fill with blood. eddie’s never liked him, he certainly wouldn’t be sad to see him go.

after the house is emptied, steve was to dress tommy in his robe and mask, plant the knife in his fist and call the police. they’d rehearsed it a thousand times, how steve would slash himself with his knife and eddie would scurry back up to the bathroom with you, waiting until the cops came to get you.

steve’s laugh echoes through the quiet house, maniacal as he drives his blade into tommy’s gut, his last attempts at protesting come out as squeaks before the couch turns a deep red and the sputtering comes to a sudden stop.

but eddie doesn’t want to play that game.

steve was too sporadic, untrustworthy and downright stupid, if he were to be honest. who’s to say he’d never turn on eddie? kill him or worse, you? eddie couldn’t trust him, the boy was out of it, drunk on the power it gave him.

so instead of doing anything they’d rehearsed, eddie forces the knife into steve’s chest, quickly taking it out to drive another jab into his throat, deafening his screams. steve’s eyes full of confusion, a lingering look of betrayal that makes his chest sting, if only for a second.

his body thuds as it hits the floor, a garbled sound full of air escape his throat, an anguished cry that vaguely resembles eddie.

he stares down at his accomplices twitching body, a sadness twinging his heart. steve would undoubtedly still be alive if he hadn’t been stupid enough to start joking about hurting you, all he’d had to do was keep his mouth shut and let the night play out.

but he hadn’t. desperate to make some edgy joke that now lead to him bleeding out on his living room floor.

eddie clears his throat, unwilling to dwell on his emotions for too long. he had to dress tommy and find the phone. there was too much at stake now to let steve ruin this from beyond the grave.

out of the corner of his eye he spots that same glittering top that he’d left locked in the bathroom. he can’t believe you’d been stupid enough to come out of there. why you couldn’t just listen to him for once was completely beyond him.

he bounds along behind you, esnuring that absolutely nobody was skulking around the grand house before clamping one hand over your mouth, the other snaking around your hip to bring you to the cold, wooden floor.

you scream against his palm, vibrating the skin with your pleas for help. eyes wide and watering as they meet the mask, he’s not surprised, for all you know, the knife in his hand was going straight into your side next.

he straddles your waist, keeping your pressed into the floor and not a problem for him, “shh.. sh-shut up,” he hushes, ensuring that the hall really was empty before he revealed his identity.

the thrashing stops, stilling as the cogs slowly turn and his voice becomes familiar, a blood-chilling flash of hurt overtakes your fearful eyes instead.

bile rises in his throat, sick to his stomach with the fact that he could do this to you, make you so scared of him.

“it’s me, it’s me sweetheart,” frantically trying to get you to calm down, to maybe not be so angry at him when this was all over. “promise not to scream and i’ll let go,” itching to take his gloved hand from your mouth, to prove his love.

you nod hopelessly, flashing him an expression that he really can’t place, somewhere between terror, disgust and relief.

he does as he promised, removing his hand from your mouth to slide the mask up, hoping that maybe seeing his face would help, would make you not hate him.

“baby.. it’s not- i can explain everything to you, i just need..” panting his words, scrambling for some kind of excuse to get you back to safety, “you have to listen to me, okay? you trust me, don’t you?”

your face says anything but, watching your bottom lip tremble makes him fume, so incredibly pissed off that he was capable of this.

“please,” eddie begs, pleads even, “i’d never.. ever hurt you, you know that, right?”

“i.. i trust you,” the words squeaked rather than spoken, accompanied by salty streams falling down your cheeks.

he nods, daring to lift his mask. maybe eye contact would make you comfortable, “i’m gonna take you back to the bathroom.. okay? wait for me.. i’ll be five minutes, yeah?” running his knuckles over your mascara stained cheek, “and then i’ll tell you everything,” his tone reeking of desperation.

much to his surprise, and utter delight, you lean into his hand, nodding with your pitiful trembling lip, “okay.. okay,” so innocent, totally unassuming about what he was going to admit to.

eddie clambers off of your body, offering his hand out and praying to whichever god would listen to make sure you wouldn’t run.

you don’t, of course you don’t. taking his hand as you climb up off of the floor, shoulders slumped over as you allow him to move you down the hallway, a gentle hand resting on your waist as you go.

“five minutes baby.. i’ll be back,” he reassures for the hundredth time, “promise me you’ll stay here this time?”

you nod, grabbing his hand just to feel his skin on yours, “i love you,” so sickly sweet he almost forgets what he had to do. but he had to do this for you, or he’d never hear that again.

“i love you too,” with full sincerity, letting the door shut between you as he continues his mission, sprinting back to the living room to get tommy in his clothes and shake any hints of evidence off of himself.

tommy’s heavier than he once anticipated, his lifeless body proving hard to contort into different clothes.

but he does it, dropping the knife on the couch next to his body, giving steve one last sympathetic glance before barrelling down the hallway to the bathroom, pummelling his fist against the door.

he hopes you’ll understand, you had to. everything he did, he did it with you in mind.

his fist pummels against the wood, relief washing over his body when he hears the tiny click that lets him inside and confirms that you didn’t hate him. you trusted him, completely, just as he thought.

eddie’s quick to lock it again, even while knowing the killer was inside of the room with you, the other strewn dead across the floor in a pool of his own blood.

before he can even breath long enough to curate his explanation, the echoing sound of shouting and footsteps fill the house, the cops forcing their way inside and discovering the scene.

the bathroom door splinters, eddie’s arms shielding you from the crossfire of wood. it’s the police, flashlights pointing right at your horrified faces, sharing concerned glances between one another.

“we’ve got two confirmed alive,” one of them squawks into his radio, a fuzzy crackle coming back.

“eddie? eddie munson? we’d like to speak to you about your friend, steve harrington.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson one shot #ghostface!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #chelseeebespookyweek #Spotify

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lovebugism · 1 year ago

Note

fictober idea (if ure up for smut): eddie & reader go to a haunted house. eddie, obviously, gets a boner bc hes a weirdo. reader notices & begs to touch him right here, right now even tho theyve never done anything in public before. so, eddie finds a place to *kinda* hide & reader gets him off, but ofc, eddie cant let reader go without cumming as well.

thanks for requesting :D — eddie gets turned on protecting you at a haunted house, and you obv have to reward him for it (smut 18+, 1.5k)

fictober leftovers (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Eddie’s been called a freak his whole life. He knew he was different since he could understand what being different meant, and if that made him a weirdo, then so be it. But now he thinks everyone might’ve been right about him. He’s a complete, utter, and total freak.

He walks with you through a haunted house, surrounded by creepy masks and fake blood and your screams, and he’s hard. His dick’s as stiff as a rock and throbbing with a distant ache when most people are scared out of their minds.

It’s all your fault, honestly. You’re clinging to him with an ironclad grip and using him as a shield every time something jumps out at you. Eddie can’t even be scared with you because all he can think about is how masculine he feels protecting you like this. Metalhead freaks like him never get to feel this way — all manly and muscly and brave.

And even though it’s hard to walk while adjusting his pants every five steps, Eddie thinks he’s hiding it pretty well. Well, he was, anyway. Until your ass brushes against his lap, and you clock him immediately.

Trapped in a secluded area of the haunted house, lit up red and blaring the Halloween theme song, you spin around to face him. “Are you hard?” you ask him over the music, face twisted in confusion. You’re not weirded out by it exactly, just genuinely puzzled.

Eddie freezes, chocolate eyes wide. He plays coy despite being caught red-handed. “No.”

You shoot him a deadpanned look, brows raised as you peer at him through your lashes.

He caves. “…Yes.”

“Does scary shit turn you on?” you wonder, laughing softly.

“No!” he responds with a dramatic drawl, sounding more offended than he should be. He is standing rock-hard in the middle of a haunted house, after all. He shifts his weight on his feet and stammers for an answer. “I just… I like being able to protect you and… everything.”

“Aw…” you hum, melting into a puddle at his feet. “That’s kinda sweet, actually.”

Eddie’s visibly surprised by your response. He was prepared to get made fun of at best — slapped and dumped entirely at worst. But here you are, all but admiring how much of a freak your boyfriend is.

“Wait, really?”

You shrug. “Yeah. Especially considering last Halloween, the guy I was dating left me behind at a haunted house.”

“Pussy…” Eddie grumbles under his breath.

“Exactly,” you giggle. “So this is definitely an upgrade.”

Your palms smooth up his chest and over his shoulders. Your fingers entwine behind his neck, halfway embracing him in the middle of the haunt. His hands settle warm and wide on your sides. He squeezes you gently there and lets out a sigh of relief.

“I’m just glad you don’t think I’m a total freak,” he confesses with a forced chuckle.

“Oh, I definitely think you’re a freak,” you retort in a monotone, then flash him a sickly sweet smile. “I’m just too obsessed with you to care.”

Eddie nods and tries not to smile too wide when you lean in to kiss him. “Noted,” he murmurs.

You do a whole lot more than just kiss him, though. You open his mouth with your own and lick inside with a confident tongue. You take the breath from his lungs with little effort, leaving him more breathless than he has been all night.

“Wanna suck you off,” you murmur, slurred and muffled against his mouth.

He jerks away from you on instinct. He couldn’t hide his shock if he tried. “Huh?” he wonders in a tone that borders on cartoonish. His soft features twist in confusion.

“I need your cock in my mouth like I need to breathe,” you confess with an unabashed groan.

Maybe he wasn’t the freak after all. Maybe this whole time, it was you.

“Well, that’sa tad bit dramatic, but—” You cut off his teasing by fussing with the buckle of his belt. His eyes widen in shock, but he doesn’t try to stop you. “Whoa. Okay. This is… This is great and everything, babe, but there’s— there’s people around. Someone could walk in.”

You look to your left, then to your right. There’s no one here but you and Eddie in this small square room, filled with a fiery red like the warmth swirling in your belly. You blink at him with doe eyes and shrug innocently. “I don’t see anyone.”

Eddie breathes out a laugh, one mixed with amusement and disbelief. “I just don’t wanna us to get caught, babe,” he tells you, smoothing wide palms up and down your arms. “Don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Do you want a blowjob or not?”

“Well, yeah, but I—”

“Good,” you hum with a smile before sinking to your knees in front of him.

Eddie’s too stunned to stop you. He doesn’t want to stop you.

Bathed in a sinful neon red, you unbutton his pants and free his half-hard cock from the confines of his jeans. You tug at the hem of his underwear until his heavy balls hang over the plaid fabric.

“Shit,” he mutters when you press a sweet kiss to his weeping tip. He bites back a moan when you swirl your tongue around the bulbous strawberry head. “Shit— you’re so fucking hot.”

You worship his cock like it’s not just some random Tuesday in the middle of a haunted house. You don’t mean to, really, but he’s making such pretty noises for you — little puffs of tiny breaths and small whines he tries desperately to hide from you.

His thighs twitch every time you run your tongue over the veins on the underside of him, going slow to feel the rapid pulse there. His fingers crawl in your hair, palms settling on your temples — not pushing you or pulling you away, just holding you as you suck gently at his aching cock.

His pink lips are parted, airing out little moans of ecstasy. His chocolate eyes are dark and glazed over in a honeyed look. His hair hangs over his face, wild and desperate to be pulled.

You let his tip linger in your mouth, drool pooling around him and soaking his twitching cock. The feeling makes him moan — a deep, hearty sound that stems from his chest.

When his lolling head drops back, you take him in your fist. You don’t bother to work him up to a rapid pace. Using the lubrication of your spit, you jerk him with an expert hand and lick away the pearly beads of pre-cum he leaks for you.

“Ah, shit,” he groans, eyes rolled back before he squeezes them shut. “Oh, fuck, babe—”

You’re already opening your mouth for his cum before he can warn you it’s coming. You know him too well. You notice all the telltale signs before you think he does — the whimpers, the shaking thighs, the rambled moans, the way his balls draw slightly upward. You’re ready to accept his warm, salty loads the second he gives them to you.

Eddie cups your warm cheek with a ringed hand. He tries to tell you he’s cumming, but his whines get in the way. He grunts quietly, tilting his head backward and holding tightly to you as cum pulses weakly from his slit.

The tang dribbles over your tongue and mouth. You take it all with ease. You make a big show of it, too — lolling your tongue out of your mouth and letting his cum drip onto the softening pudge of his head. Eddie’s whole body twitches when you take his sensitive cock in your mouth again to swallow it down, like a goddamn lightning strike up his spine.

“How’d I—” His voice is hoarse, so he has to stop and clear his throat. You smile, lips swollen and spit-slick, as you tuck his soft cock back into his jeans and button them again. His eyes are half-lidded and darkened when you rise to full height. “How’d I get so fucking lucky with you, huh?”

You make a vague I don’t know sound and shrug your shoulders with an innocent grin. You lean into his palm when he puts his ringed hands on your jaw.

“Jesus fucking christ— you’re so pretty, baby— fuck.”

He’s just rambling now, still a bit dazed from his orgasm. He kisses you harder than anyone’s ever been kissed before, stealing the air from your lungs with ease. It’s like he’s amazed by his own adoration for you — the sheer intensity of it — the way it makes him stupid enough to let you suck his cock in a poorly hidden spot of a haunted house.

You don’t get caught, though.

Not really, anyway.

There’s a security camera in front of the door you leave from. You make sure to give it a little wave on your way out.

Eddie holds your hand the entire way back to his van, opening the door for you like a total gentleman. It’s not the passenger side door, though, but rather the one in the very back.

“What are you doing?” you wonder, all innocent like you still don’t have the taste of his cum in your mouth.

Eddie just grins at you, lopsided and pink and boyish. “Gotta return the favor, don’t I?”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti #event: fictober!

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tongue-like-a-razor · 1 year ago

Text

Ex Appeal

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x F!Reader

Summary: Jake Seresin gets a frightful visitor on Halloween.

CW: Angst, fluff, suggestive themes, alludes to past cheating

WC: 3500+

This fic was written for @roosterforme’s Rocktober challenge! Inspired by the song Poison by Alice Cooper.

Masterlist

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Jake says with a look of disgust – as much of it as he can muster. You, after all, have been his greatest source of misery as of late.

You give him a dirty look – your specialty – and barge into his home as though you own the place and Jake’s just a goddamn doorman. “I need to lay low for a bit.”

Jake narrows his eyes as he turns to face you. He keeps the door open because he’s still hoping you’re going to leave any minute. “Lay low?” he asks mockingly. “What’d you do? Commit murder?” He wouldn’t be surprised.

You peek around his arm to glance out at the street. “Someone’s looking for me.”

Jake watches you impassively. “Is it the police?” Then, after a moment, he adds, “Is there a reward?”

You roll your eyes. “You’re the only one in this neighbourhood that I trust,” you say, pushing on the door that Jake is obstinately keeping open.

Jake nods. “Shame that trust doesn’t go both ways,” he comments contemptuously.

You eye him irritably. “Close the door.”

“Tell me why you’re here.”

“I just did.”

Jake shakes his head. “You could not have been more vague.”

You sigh. “Close the door and I’ll tell you.”

Jake exhales warily and shuts the front door. He surveys your outfit. “What are you wearing?”

You glance down at your ensemble: a black, form-fitting body suit and fishnet stockings. You’re also sporting knee-high boots and you’ve got what looks like six extra arms coming out of your back. You look back up at him with an annoyed expression on your face. “It’s Halloween,” you snap defensively.

Jake grimaces. “Yeah, I know.” He gestures to a cauldron full of candy sitting near the front door. “There’s gonna be a fuck-tonne of children coming through here trick-or-treating in like half an hour and you’re dressed like a gothic porn star.”

Instead of being offended, you lift your eyebrows in surprise. “You’re handing out candy?”

Jake sighs and places his hands on his hips, fixing you with a stern look. “Yeah, I’m handing out candy. That’s what adults do on Halloween.”

You stare at him as a smile materializes on your face. “Is that your costume?” you ask facetiously, gesturing at his checkered polo shirt. “Adult?”

Jake squares his jaw to mask the fact that he found your joke humorous, but you seem to notice the shift in his features because your own grin broadens. “My mom got me this shirt,” he says.

“Ah,” you respond. “A fellow adult.”

Jake tears his gaze away from you, focusing instead on the shiny, pointed toes of your stilettos. “Why’re you here?” he asks again, this time a lot less peevishly and a lot more grimly.

You bend down to unzip your boots. “I’m a spider,” you say. “Black widow.”

Jake glances up to meet your gaze as you straighten up. He nods. “Suits you.”

You give him a flat look. “I was at the bus stop and some dude started harassing me.”

Jake’s eyes trail down your scantily glad body. “You don’t say,” he remarks sarcastically.

Your jaw drops in outrage. “Are you victim blaming?”

Jake chuckles and shakes his head. “It was a joke.”

You cringe. “It was in poor taste.”

Jake closes his eyes and lets out a tired sigh. He’s had about enough of your attitude. “You wanna talk about poor taste?” he asks. “Where’s that lovely boyfriend of yours?”

You watch him sourly. “We’re not together anymore, if you must know,” you reply.

Truth be told, Jake probably didn’t need to know. But, now that he does, it’s only fitting that he respond with, “Shocking.”

You give him the finger. As if he were the one who’d been dating two people at the same time.

There’s a knock on the door. “Fuck,” he mutters, giving you a moody look. “Hide,” he says. “Unless you’d rather traumatize a bunch of eight-year-olds.”

You grimace at him. “You think eight-year-olds haven’t seen worse?”

Jake scans the low-cut neckline of your costume. He can’t think of anything more erotic if he tried. But, if he’s being honest, it’s not the outfit so much as your insane body that’s the culprit. He reaches out to grab your hand and pull you aside, making sure you’re tucked safely behind the door before opening it.

He smiles down at the two little kids on his porch when they yell, “TRICK-OR-TREAT!” at the top of their lungs.

“Well, well, well,” he says cheerily, bending down to grab a handful of candy out of his cauldron. “Who do we have here?” He puts the candy into one of their bags. “Are you a mermaid?”

The girl nods happily.

Jake wows in amazement. “You’re the prettiest mermaid I’ve ever seen!” He bends down to grab another handful of candy and drops it into the second child’s bag. “And you must be Iron Man!” he exclaims. “That’s one cool costume, bud. You look great!”

When Jake finally closes the door and looks at you, he sees that you’ve got your arms folded over your chest and a giant smirk on your face.

“What?” he asks darkly.

Your smile widens. “That was cute.”

Jake takes a step from the door and looks away from you. He’s not about to get sucked back into your web of lies, no pun intended. “You wanna hand some out?” he asks.

“I thought you don’t want me traumatizing the children,” you respond sarcastically, stepping out of the corner toward him.

Jake glances at you with a small smile. “I can give you some clothes, if you like.”

You wiggle your eyebrows. “Adult clothes?”

Jake rolls his eyes. “Come on, before more kids show up.”

He makes his way into his bedroom and grabs a pair of jogging pants and t-shirt and brings them back out for you. “Bathroom’s down the hall,” he says.

“I remember,” you respond, but you’ve already started to remove your bodysuit.

Jake turns away in alarm and holds out the clothes for you. “Do you?”

“Come on, it’s not like you haven’t seen it all before,” you say. “Shoot, I’m not wearing any underwear.”

Jake groans. “Are you for fucking real?”

“You got a pair of boxers?”

Jake swallows uncomfortably. “Hold this,” he instructs, keeping a hand over his eyes as he hands you the crumpled clothes and starts back for his bedroom.

“You know what? I’ll just go commando.”

Jake takes a deep, cleansing breath and turns back toward you. He keeps his eyes closed and holds a hand out so as not to bump into anything as he walks. Of course, as luck would have it, he stumbles into you.

“What the fuck, dude?” you exclaim as his hands cling to your naked body, steadying you so you don’t fall over.

Jake squeezes his eyes tightly so that they don’t open inadvertently. “Sorry, sorry!” he winces, finally stabilizing both himself and you. He feels the softness of your skin underneath his palms as his hands do a final sweep along your back before he lifts them away from your body with a grimace. He’s bracing himself for a punch in the face.

“Are you a dumbass? Open your eyes!” you screech. “You’ve seen me naked how many times?!”

“Twelve,” he responds, a little hoarsely. All he can think about is how smooth your skin felt in his hands not a moment ago and it’s driving him a little mad.

“It was a rhetorical question,” you say pointedly. “You counted?”

“Are you decent yet?” he asks, clearing his throat.

“I’m never decent,” you mutter under your breath and Jake can’t help but smirk. “But if you’re asking whether or not I’m dressed. Then, yes, I am.”

Jake releases a heavy sigh and opens his eyes cautiously.

You scowl at him. “What, you think I’m tricking you?”

“Well, you aren’t treating me.”

You stare at him coolly. “You’re such a delight. Can’t imagine why we ever broke up.”

“Need a reminder?” he calls as you make your way back into the front hall. “It’s because you cheated on me!”

You’re standing at the front door with your arms crossed. “I didn’t cheat, for the last time,” you retort. “We weren’t exclusive.”

Jake presses his lips into a thin line. “I was exclusive.”

You shake your head in frustration. “Let’s just agree to disagree.”

“Fine.”

“Great.”

There’s another knock on the door. You sigh irritably and reach for the doorknob.

“Hello!” you exclaim enthusiastically the moment the door is open.

The mob of children on Jake’s doorstep all look up at you with exuberant grins and yell their opening line in a loud, messy chorus.

You react with an animated gasp. “Oh my goodness! You guys are a frightful bunch!”

The kids laugh. Indeed, they’re dressed as zombies, ghosts, and vampires, and, when you comment on their appearance, they growl and make scary faces at you. Jake smiles at them and then at you as you distribute the candy from the cauldron excitedly.

Once the door is closed, however, you drop the act, giving him an icy look as you settle yourself on the little bench near the door.

Jake fights the urge to sit next to you and maybe get a little lost in the smell of your perfume. He still gets a whiff of it from time to time when he walks by his closet. Which reminds him –

“I have your sweater,” he says awkwardly.

You glance up at him coldly. “Well, why didn’t you give it to me? It’d probably look better than this.” You tug on the hem of the t-shirt he gave you.

Jake doubts it; the fact that he could see your nipples through the fabric of his own shirt is even more of a turn on than your low-cut bodysuit had been. But he responds with, “Probably. But I’m not about to let you change again.”

You snort. “Fair.”

Jake wonders just how detrimental sitting next to you might be to his personal journey of recovery. He figures that you also would prefer that he stay as far away from you as possible. Ultimately, however, he decides that it’s his bench, after all, and that he’ll be sharing it with you and not the other way around. And, with regard to getting over you, well, he can try again tomorrow.

Jake makes his way over to the bench and you eye him cautiously as he approaches. Silently, you slide to make room for him. He gulps nervously and lowers himself onto the seat beside you.

“What were you doing at the bus stop, anyway?” he asks, staring down at his own clasped hands because he can’t handle looking at you when you’re sitting so close.

“Frank and I were on our way to a party,” you respond sullenly.

Jake glances up at you despite himself. “Thought you two broke up.”

You meet his gaze and promptly look away – apparently, you’re not too keen on engaging in eye contact at this proximity either. “We did,” you say curtly. “About an hour ago.”

Jake raises his eyebrows. “An hour ago?”

“We had a fight on the way. I hopped out of the car at a red light.”

Jake leaps out of his seat. “Are you crazy?” he exclaims. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?”

You give him an amused look. “Don’t you fly jets for a living?”

Jake gapes at you incredulously. “I trained for that,” he retorts.

You let out a small laugh. “You’re right,” you reply. “I should’ve practiced first.”

Jake draws a hand over his mouth. “Okay, so you got out of the car in the middle of traffic,” he says with a wince. “And he, what? Just let you go?”

You shrug. “Wouldn’t you?”

Jake raises his eyebrows. “In what you were wearing? I wouldn’t even let you go to the bathroom by yourself.”

You stare at him with a grin. “That’s a bit excessive.”

“Yeah?” he asks. “How many guys made passes at you before you finally decided that taking the bus home wasn’t the brightest idea?”

You lower your gaze without responding.

“As if that douchebag just left you,” Jake says angrily.

“Well, I wasn’t being very nice.”

“There’s a surprise.”

You eye him dangerously.

“You could’ve gotten hurt,” Jake says. “This isn’t the safest neighbourhood.”

You suck in your cheeks and nod. “Yeah, I was pretty freaked out actually,” you admit. “There was a group of guys following me and they kept making lewd comments. When I got to the bus stop, they sort of surrounded me…”

You trail off and Jake’s hands curls into fists of their own volition. “I could kill your boyfriend.”

“Ex,” you remind him.

“Whatever,” he says. After a moment, he asks, “Are you okay?”

You nod. “I pretended to call someone – you actually,” you say with a laugh. “I had a whole fake conversation with you on my way over. They lost interest in me after a little while and took off.”

He watches you solemnly. “You could’ve actually called me,” he says.

Your face turns skeptical. “Right. And you��d pick up?”

Probably not. “Of course,” he responds. Then he sighs and shakes his head. “Maybe I wouldn’t.”

“It’s fine,” you say. “I wouldn’t blame you.”

Jake sighs and sits back down beside you.

Several more groups of trick-or-treaters come and go and you and him take turns answering the door. Occasionally, both of you jump up at the same time and end up oohing and aahing in unison at the various costumes that grace Jake’s doorstep.

This activity does little to help quell the feelings he’s tried for months to repress. He remembers grudgingly the night he told you he was falling for you and you telling him that you weren’t ready for that kind of commitment. That’s when he found out that he wasn’t the only one you’d been seeing.

In your defense, it’s not something you had been actively hiding. In fact, you probably thought that Jake was also sleeping around, given his reputation. But Jake caught feelings like an idiot and was heartbroken when you finally showed your cards.

He spent nearly a year convincing himself that you’re absolute scum. Yet, here you are, looking cute as a button in his joggers and t-shirt, laughing giddily at the neighborhood children like you’re some kind of sweetheart. Like you could fool him now.

Jake slumps back down on the bench, trying to interact with you as little as possible. He can sense that you’re starting to win him over again, and he can’t have that happen. He will not be seduced.

You sit beside him with a grand sigh and lean your head back against the wall. “You get a lot of kids here,” you say lightly.

“Mm-hm,” he hums, bending forward to rest his arms on his legs.

“I’m getting hungry,” you say. “You?”

Jake closes his eyes. The last thing he needs is a fucking dinner date with you. “There are some leftovers in the fridge. You can go heat some up for yourself.”

You lay a hand on his back and Jake goes rigid. “You’re not going to eat?” you ask.

“Not hungry,” he manages to say.

Your hand slides unhurriedly down his spine, your fingers grazing him delicately. Jake brings a fist to his mouth to suppress a moan. “I’ll wait, then,” you say softly. Then, before Jake can gather the strength to remove himself from the situation, you lean your body into his and rest your head on his shoulder.

Jake sits very still, trying to decide how best to navigate this turn of events.

“Do you ever miss me?” you murmur faintly.

Jake turns his head to look down at your face while his heart springs into his throat to constrict his breathing. “What are you doing?” he asks huskily.

Your eyes stare deeply into his. “I’m just wondering,” you whisper.

Jake sighs and rubs his forehead. “You just broke up with Frank.”

Your eyes start to fill with tears. “I miss you.”

“Fuck,” Jake mutters and straightens his back. His head drops like a deadweight against the drywall in behind.

You’re displaced in the process but, once he’s situated, you slowly move closer, until your head is resting over his chest.

Jake grits his teeth but wraps his arm around you and, in response, you lay your arm over his abdomen. He can feel your fingers twist into the fabric of his shirt. He tightens his embrace around your shoulders and curses some more, in silence this time. What is it about you that he just can’t resist?

You lift your head off his chest so you can be face to face with him. Jake tries very hard not to lock eyes with you because that would likely be the end of him. “Jake,” you say in a wispy sort of tone and Jake instantly loses that fight. He meets your gaze, and your eyes entrance him. “I want you to kiss me,” you breathe.

Jake can almost taste the citrus of your perfume; it hangs over you like a veil. He can already hear your melodic moans; he knows what you sound like when he touches you. He can feel the rise and fall of your chest, the ardent urging of your hands as they slip underneath his shirt.

But what he can’t do is kiss you.

Your lips… your lips are all he can think about. He wants you more than anything in the world but you’re not here the same way he’s here; you’re just passing through while he’s here to stay.

You come impossibly close, aching for just a split second of contact. “Don’t you want to?” you whisper.

Jake can hardly stand being this close to you. “Why are you doing this?” he asks in a low, uneven voice.

You gulp and the tip of your nose brushes his. “I want to be with you, Jake,” you whimper, your fingers digging persistently into his ribs. Your travelling hands ignite a chain of pyrotechnics under his skin that sort of set his entire chest ablaze. “Don’t you want that?”

If only you knew how much. He shakes his head, cupping your cheek in his hand. “How can that be? When you’ve only been single for an hour?”

Your eyes start to sparkle. “You don’t believe me?”

He’ll never believe a word you say. But that doesn’t make him want you any less. He catches the tears that stream down your face with his thumb.

“I never got over you, Jake,” you say, clasping your hand over his on your cheek. “I think about you all the time.”

Jake leans his head into yours and grips your hand in his. If you’re telling the truth, he sympathizes. But, more likely than not, every word coming out of your mouth is fiction.

You push him away and sit up straight, wiping at your tears. “I never meant to hurt you,” you say. “I made a mistake. I realized that the moment you left. And I was too proud to go after you.”

Jake grimaces. “So, you dated Frank for ten months?”

You shrug. “On and off. He cheated on me, so…” you trail off with a cynical laugh. “Got what I deserved.”

Jake furrows his brows. “You don’t deserve that.”

You glance up at him with renewed hope. “I don’t deserve you,” you say with a strangled sigh. “I know that. And you know that, obviously. Which is why you won’t kiss me.”

Jake shakes his head.

“I know that it’s long over, Jake. I’m not delusional,” you say, your eyes so penetrating it feels like they’re clawing right into his soul. “And, I swear, I did not come here for this. It’s just, seeing you again – and your fucking disgustingly adorable adult shirt – handing out candy like a well-adjusted member of society – it reminded me what I missed out on.”

Jake lifts his eyebrows. “A lame, costume-less, party-less Halloween?”

You smile. “It’s not lame. It’s perfect.”

Jake watches you wretchedly. You may look innocent sitting before him in his very own baggy joggers and t-shirt with your dizzyingly beautiful eyes. But you are a fucking black widow. With a venomous bite. And sweet lips that spew lies, webs of which he could never untangle. Poison on the tongue. Toxic to the bone. Fatal. “You’re perfect,” he says.

You gaze at him tenderly, waiting for your moment to strike. Jake is waiting too. There’s no use fighting it, he lost the moment he met you. And he’ll lose as many times as it will take to win you for good.

Hangman Tag List:

A/N: The rest of the list will be in the comments. Let me know if you don't want to be tagged anymore.

@atarmychick007

@callsign-sunshine

@shanimallina87

@wkndwlff

@thefandomimagines

@lunamoonbby

@xoxabs88xox

@Elenavampire21

@desert-fern

@averyhotchner

@Topguncultleader

@teacupsandtopgun

@lilyevanswhore

@sarcasm-n-insomnia

@avengers-fixation

@malindacath

@maddievevo

@widemiffyhappy

@dempy

@djs8891

@pono-pura-vida

@phoenix1388

@teaminator

@rascallyrascals

@kmc1989

@drakelover78

@hangmanscoming

@topgun-imagines

@thedroneranger

@joaquinwhorres

@abaker74

@untoldshortsofthefandoms

@lynnevanss

@birdy-bat-writes

@alexxavicry

@scenesofobx

@hallecarey1

@rrocky0ah

@ekeel2016

@imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog

@maeleeme

@mamachasesmayhem

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blkkizzat · 1 year ago

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☠︎︎ THRILLING GHOULS & SMOOTH CRIMINALS ☠︎︎

Halloween is my fav holiday and Horror is my fav movie genre so how could I not participate in a SPOOKY KINKTOBER!

update 9/15/24: im going to finish this list this year! just revamped the masterlist.

All inspired by my favorite horror villains!

song inspo: Thriller & Smooth Criminal cw: Blood play might be heavy in a few of these. Dubcon or Noncon in most of these but the reader will enjoy/consent by the end. Death but only of minor/NPC no name characters(ie, your fuckass bf, bitchy chem professor, next door neighbor, mailman, etc) and manipulation. schedule: gojo > geto > sukuna > nanami tag: will tag works #☾﹒✖☠𝘬𝘪𝘻𝘻𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘣𝘦𝘳

❝Girl, I can thrill you more than any Ghoul would ever dare try!❞

FreddyKruger!Sukuna

Kink Tags: Teratophilia, Size Difference, Virgin, Chasity Synopsis: Teens in town have been dying in their sleep from horrible dreams. Hard up virgin Y/N won't take sleeping pills to stop dreaming because she only gets relief in her wet dreams. What will happen when Sukuna (true form) enters them? wc: ?

Sadako!Geto

Kink Tags: Voyerism, Squirting, Overstimulation Synopsis: Camgirl!Reader hasn't been able to make herself squirt yet and is teased by her chat. She buys a new toy and downloads a random porn an anon user sent her "guaranteed to make you squirt" but is it just a normal porn? Or is there something more sinister on it? wc: ?

Werewolf!Toji

[Part 1 ღ Part 2] Kink Tags: Breeding, Dacryphilia, Aphrodisiac Synopsis: Catching him in a lie, you suspect your boyfriend Toji is cheating on you. Where does he keep disappearing to once a month that keeps him away for often days at a time. You're fed up. You've made up your mind this time to follow him but are you ready for what you discover? wc: 10.4k

❝You've been fucked struck by a Smooth Criminal!❞

Ghostface!Choso

[Part 1 ღ Part 2] Kink Tags: Clothed Male/Naked Female, Thigh Riding, Knife Play Synopsis: The university campus is being terrorized by a copycat Ghostface killer. As a popular sorority girl with a dumb jock bf, you are a prime choice to be his next victim especially given how he can't stop thinking about you. But you're no ordinary Sorority Girl bimbo, now are you? wc: 15.4k

Hannibal!Nanami

Kink Tags: Olfactophilia, Body Worship, Menophilia Synopsis: You're immensely grateful for your kind, empathetic and open-minded (not to mention very handsome) psychiatrist Nanami who has gotten you through some very rough patches in your life. However when you show up at his home office for unannounced session and discover him preparing dinner, are you whats next on the menu? wc: ?

InvisibleMan!Gojo

Kink Tags: Mirror Sex, Frottage, Stalker Synopsis: Fed up with his antics and him ignoring you, you breakup with your tech genius boyfriend Gojo. It's been a month and you've started to move on with your life but odd occurrences have been happening around you and you have the feeling you are being watched 24/7. You need a vacay and your friend Shoko offers up her lake cabin. Will you be safe there? Or will whoever is watching you have you right where they want you? wc: ?

BONUS: Free for all section of general Halloween themes if I finish all the rest or need to do a quick drabble to cure writer's block.

*OUT NOW* mlist: That's Not My JJK Man! - teaser

Incubus!Geto - coming soon

The Hills Have Eyes Choso P1 *new*

Why you can’t watch scary movies with JJK men - Drabble, 2k words

Trick or Treat Anthology or Halloween Fluff with JJK Men - Fic 10k

JJK Men Slutty Halloween Costumes - Ask thirst

©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.

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sugurouge · 3 months ago

Text

— call her my obsession : ghostface! ex boyfriend! endo yamato x f!reader

content warnings! DARK CONTENT, mask kink, slight stalking, hunter/prey, possessive topics, lovesick endo, lots of praise, marking, biting, public sex, pet names (doll, good little thing/ thing, darling, bunny, princess, sweetheart, he rambles), dubcon, yandere themes, slight strangling&asphyxiation, hair pulling, remnants of conditioning, toxic relationship, cunnilingus, rough sex, manhandling

summary: endo would do anything to please. even if you have scratched him out of your life months ago, he would never give up on the person he loves that easily. when will you learn that he lives to make you happy? maybe if he brings your wildest fantasies to life, you will let him in again. in the end, he is nothing but hopelessly devoted to you

wordcount: 2.8k | my kinktober masterlist

a/n: this is my piece for the tokyo station ghostface collab! i hope you will enjoy <3

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

by clicking read more you are agreeing to consume dark content. don't interact if you cannot differentiate fiction from reality.

It all began at a silly Halloween party. You showed up dressed provocatively, in a skin-tight black bodysuit and a laughable excuse for cat makeup, topped off with a pair of fake ears. It looked cheap, but in the best way possible, a pair of icy blues noted amused. His brave little bunny hiding in cat clothing.

Throughout the night, you felt his presence, like a chilling gust of wind that had shivers crawl up your spine. Yes, someone was watching you—someone hiding behind a rubber white mask. You saw many of said mask that night, but he stood out. The tight fitting black turtleneck, muscular build, gloved hands. Everything made him look too hot to be at this shabby party.

He knew you were watching him, lusting after him. You were probably halfway gone the moment he first touched you. Strong hands hovered over your hips as you swayed to the playlist's songs. Despite the booming of the music, your pathetic mewl rang through to his very core. The tremble of your glossy lips told him all about the dirty thoughts that were racing through your pretty mind.

Naughty little thing.

How dare you leave him alone on the dance floor after eyefucking him as much as he did you? You were an open book, playing hard to get like the princess you are as your heels carried you through the crowd. Yet, that longing gaze over your shoulder was all he needed to keep following you. He could almost smell your arousal. The thought of your wet pussy made him salivate, made him miss everything you two once had even more. Sharp canines dig into his bottom lip to keep him grounded.

He had to focus; he couldn’t lose you now.

Not when you finally made it outside the abandoned house, moonlight casting you in an ethereal glow, making you look like an angel.

But where are you taking him? Why are you so certain he’ll follow you?

With only one goal in mind, your feet follow the pathway until you reach the edge of a little forest. You can’t help the curiosity that screams at you to just give all this a try. Those scenes in horror movies that make you unconsciously press your thighs together, make you bite your nails until your old company pointed out your adorable reactions. It was embarrassing back then, realising that such twisted scenes turn you on, and even more so, the wish to be chased for once. You never expected this to actually happen.

So this is all your own fault. Because of your stupid social media and movie obsession. What kind of idiot would actually want to play catch in the woods with fucking Ghostface? With a stranger of all things. Your ancestors would be so disappointed.

The forest looms ahead, dark and foreboding, each shadow seeming to stretch out, eager to swallow you whole. Your breath quickens, heart pounding in your chest as you venture deeper. The moonlight barely pierces the dense canopy above, casting eerie patterns on the forest floor.

It all seemed like child’s play, until actual fear settles in your bones. Until your heels make your escape harder, getting stuck in the dirt or caught on roots again and again. The game has turned dangerous, as adrenaline surges through you. The echo of your pursuer's footsteps grow louder, closer.

He teases you with the cracking of branches beneath his heavy footwear, he must have an easy time stalking behind. “Sweetheart, where are you bringing me?” His raspy voice rings through the trees, as clear as if he were to stand right behind you—looming above your smaller frame like a starved wolf. Your mind races, torn between the intoxicating excitement and the creeping terror as a whimper seems like your pathetic answer to his question. You have fantasised about this moment, but reality is far more intense. The fear is real, and so is the man chasing you. “I thought you wanted to play with me as much as I wanna play with you, bunny~”

How dare you try to get away from him?

Maniacal laughter echoes through the woods as Endo watches you stumble through the dark, refusing to speak with him, you seem unable to think. Are you really that scared? "Stop trying to run from me," he warns, impatience starting to lace his voice. "You were such a good little thing, got me all riled up. Now let me catch my reward."

The forest seems to close in around you, shadows dancing and whispering secrets as you desperately search for a way forward. But the footsteps of your pursuer only grow louder, the sound of leaves crunching underfoot mixing with your staggered breaths. Endo revels in the chase, the joy of witnessing your fear, and the promise of what comes next.

"I want the woods to hear your pretty moans, all for me," he nearly moans the words as he tears off the Ghostface mask to see better. His crazy blue eyes lock onto you, the moonlight illuminating his face, twisted with a mix of lust and madness all for you to see.

You stumble upon the initial scare, heart pounding wildly in your chest. How? Why? Out of all the people in the world. “No backsies~” Endo warns, as you lose sight of him in the trees. Anyone, anyone but him. You hide behind a tree, eyes heavy from the tears you were fighting back now spilling free. The forest, once a place of curiosity for your dark fantasies, feels like a trap. And Endo is closing in on you.

It’s an eerie atmosphere as silence holds your body still like a ghostly embrace. You are too scared to speak, move, or look. You should really be on the lookout for your surroundings, but your eyes remain tightly shut, tears seemingly unending as they ruin your makeup and taint your cheeks.

The stillness is unbearable.

Until Endo reaches you. His strong frame overwhelms you in an instant. Somewhere along the way he rid himself of the constricting sweater, freeing his heated skin to let his signature tattoos greet you. The sudden proximity of his body wraps a blanket of intense, nearly unbearable heat, around you. It battles the stark contrast of the chill that clings to your body. His hand grasps into your hair recklessly, yanking you back until you have no choice but to stumble into his broad chest. The tattoos that snake along his arms are suddenly around your neck, his fingers pressing into the delicate skin to successfully constrict your breath.

Endo hums cheerfully, much unlike the given situation, his sugary voice vibrates against your ear as he whispers, "Found ya!" The sweetness of his words contradicts sharply with the crude actions that follow as he presses you against a tree, his teeth bruise your shoulder before he nibbles along your neck.

His canines break your skin with ease as his nails dig into your hips, to perfectly hold you in place. You feel your body break beneath his strength, effortlessly being handled like Endo's favourite toy when he arches you into the tree, your ass out for his cock to rut against while he abuses your skin, littering it with love bites. "Fuck me, you smell so good, pretty thing," he murmurs while shamelessly inhaling your scent, just as sweet as he remembers. “I’ve missed you so much, you can’t imagine…”

Deep, raspy moans of your name and filthy mumbles are a haunting symphony of his deep love.

He can no longer contain his excitement. The need to have you, to feel you, to taste you again reigns over him. Endo's large hands run along your outer thighs before moving to the insides to let his fingertips tease your overly sensitive skin. Greedily, he cups your pussy in his palm, his fingers brushing against your clit through the fabric. Oh, he loves how much you leak because of him. He has no other choice but to rub in just how much your body reacts to him.

You fulfil Endo. The pathetic cry that escapes your lips? Heavenly. The plea of his name? Delicious. And the nimble fingers trying to push against his strong hand? "Fuck, you’re so cute," Endo whispers in a most lovesick way possible.

But enough playing around. Enough hiding from him. Endo focuses back onto the task ahead, onto the flimsy bodysuit you’re wearing. Which is, by the way, so easy to tear, to conquer what he needs, just like that: His fingertips dig into the fabric between your thighs and the harsh ripping sounds have you jolt awake, have you pull away from his grasp like a spoiled brat—he hates brats.

"Stop putting up a fight," he murmurs, "You asked for this." The sharp sting in your scalp is a brutal reminder of your place as Endo yanks your hair once more, pulling you back into his grasp. Your head rests on his shoulder, his crazed gaze locking onto your widened eyes, fear evident in your pretty pupils. Two fingers pump deeply into your cunt, scissoring your walls to prepare you for his own twisted desires. "Look at you, clinging to my fingers like a cockhungry little monster," he chuckles, relishing in his own words and your ashamed reaction as you struggle to maintain eye contact.

"Why don’t your pretty lips beg for me as well?" he whispers into your ear before his teeth graze your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine. "Beg for me to fuck you out in the open. Beg for me, come on, pretty girl, I need you to tell me how desperate you are for me right this fucking moment." His eyes widen with excitement, a manic grin spreading across his face, making him appear almost unhinged—yet, to you, insanely hot?

His maniacal love brings back memories you repressed. No matter how sick his affliction was, it filled you like nothing else. And now that he’s back, Endo will make sure he never messes that up again.

This is all you wanted, isn’t it? The hunt, the chase, the inevitable claim of the prize. You nod quickly, lips pressed tightly together before they part again, though you can’t stop grinding against him like an animal in heat. "Please, fuck me, take me, I’m all yours, you won, I really, really wanna—" Your pleas are cut off by a high-pitched moan as he thrusts a third finger into you. Your eyes roll back from the intense stimulation, but a sharp spank to your arse drags you back to reality.

"Didn’t say it was enough—go on," Endo urges, his eyes searching your face, desperate for praise. "Can’t think of anything but getting fucked by you tonight. Please, please, please, I need you!" Of course you do. And he needs you just as badly. He knows you so well, knows exactly how to make your sharp tongue forget how to form words, how to make you chant his name like a prayer. The sounds falling from your lips fuel his madness, his eyes frantically searching yours for every scrap of affection you can offer him in this obscene display.

Your back meets the rough bark of a tree as Endo lifts your legs effortlessly, placing them on his shoulders as he kneels before you like a man devoting himself to his goddess. You barely have time to catch your breath before his mouth is on your pussy, his head buried between your thighs as he laps at your folds with fervour. His tongue, hot and insistent, drags along your puffy lips before pushing against your throbbing flesh, circling your clit with maddening precision. His groans vibrate through your body, and you clench your thighs around his head, your fingers tangling in his hair and tugging violently at the roots—just the way he loves it. He savours the shivers running down his spine, the tightening in his gut, the aching weight in his trousers.

"Fuck, you’re driving me insane, doll," he moans into your pussy, his teeth grazing your clit until you jerk, too sensitive yet craving more. You could never get enough of him. Why did you even bother breaking up with him?

"‘M so close, can’t take more, Ya-Yamato~" You gasp, but he won’t let you falter now. You can take more—just a little more of his love. The pain you cause by pulling his hair only spurs him on, driving him further into his frenzy. Until you’re trembling against him, your legs shaking around his head under the relentless patterns of his tongue circling your clit. Your increased volume drives Endo to the brink of madness.

"God, bunny, you taste so fucking good," he mutters into your folds, the vibrations of his words adding to the overwhelming pleasure. Your moans are like music to him, a symphony he could listen to endlessly. His fingers slide back into you, curling to reach that perfect, gummy spot inside while he devours your slick like a man starved. He pushes you harder against the tree, his free hand roaming your thighs, tearing your bodysuit further apart for easy access to everything he craves.

This is his reward, his obsession—his twisted love made flesh. And you, trembling and whimpering under his touch, are exactly where you belong.

You’re rutting against his face, pulling him deeper into your pussy, thighs squeezing around him, muffling his groans as your moans echo through the dead forest. Just as the crest of your release approaches, he suddenly pulls away, and your feet land on the ground. His palm meets your puffy cunt with a sharp, stinging slap, pushing you over the edge with a burst of pain. You tumble into his strong chest, fully engulfed in Endo, surrounded and protected by him as you come undone in the palm of his hand.

"Good little thing, playing so well with me tonight," he murmurs, his voice a mix of praise and possessiveness. "You deserve to be fucked until your legs give out, leaving a trail for all the perverts to lick up on your way home." He inhales your scent deeply, arms holding you steady as you teeter on the edge of consciousness. You’re halfway gone, lost in the aftermath of your release, so it’s no surprise you don’t register the sound of his zip being undone.

Endo manoeuvres you like his personal plaything, turning you around with a practised ease. A flat hand between your shoulder blades pushes you forward, but he doesn’t let you fall. He’ll always hold his princess up. His biceps flex as he snakes an arm around your waist, positioning you perfectly to slide his needy cock inside you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, drowning himself in your scent as he thrusts deeply, each push driving you forward in his embrace. Your body jerks with the impact, on the verge of giving out.

"You wanted this," he reminds you, his breath staggered, drawing out each word as he battles his own exhaustion. "You know I’ll make any of your wishes come true, no matter how fucked up." Another harsh thrust nearly drives you into the tree, but Endo pulls you back, refusing to let you drift too far from him. He will always hold you as close as possible. "I’d do anything for you," he rambles, his voice thick with devotion. His brows furrow in concentration as he leans back, his eyes raking over your subdued form.

His hands grip your upper arms, his thighs spreading you open as his hips bounce against the soft flesh of your arse. He’s so close—so fucking close. Mumbled adorations spill from his lips, "My perfect girl," and hushed "I love you"s pouring into your fucked-out mind. He doesn’t mind your muted responses; not when your walls clamp around his cock with every word of praise. His beloved is tired, after all. "Gonna cum inside ya, fuck, I’m so close," he groans, his breath ragged, moans raspy. The heat of his breath and the drops of sweat the only sensations grounding you while he fucks you with growing desperation.

Endo's movements slow down for him to only grind into you once his neediness makes a return. "Let me hear it again, pretty thing, tell me." His voice is a desperate pant, needing your words to anchor him. Perfectly conditioned, you remember what makes him fall apart in the palm of your hand. No matter the bile biting your throat upon the messy memories you hold for him, you give him what he needs. "I-I love you, Yamato, I love you, can you cum for me, please?" you pant, your voice trembling.

His eyes roll back, a near-maniacal grin spreading across his face as his head falls back to gaze at the bright moonlight above. "Don’t have to ask me twice, doll," he promises, and with a final thrust, he finally lets go, freeing himself from the pent-up need that consumed him.

dividers by @/cafekitsune

#endo smut #wind breaker smut #endo x reader smut #endo yamato smut #about.endo #cw dubcon #cw stalking #cw marking #cw public sex #─ .✦ winter's words #cw yandere #cw asphyxiation #cw hair pulling #cw conditioning #cw manhandling

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thollandneedy · 2 months ago

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Masked- Peter Parker

A/N: Since y'all enjoyed so much the Ned's sister prompt... (last halloween themed fic btw)

Summary: Peter hooks up with someone on a Halloween party, but he didn't know that it was Ned's sister

Warnings: Language, teasing, mentions of alcohol, sexual content (p in v; fem!receiving, and praise kink)

Don’t forget to share, like, comment and leave your ideas here

Bellah’s Masterlist 🪻

The sound of classic Halloween songs blared from the speakers scattered around Ned's house, while the wind blew the orange leaves into his yard. The boy in the Zorro costume cursed to himself every time he saw the leaves falling, as it would be another chore to do the next morning, since his parents were out of the house. With hurried steps, he ran to the door to open it for the guests of his not-so-secret party (since his younger sister had told the whole school that there would be a party at her house on the thirty-first).

Unlike Ned, Y/n was considered popular in Midtown because of her charisma and, above all, her beauty. Like her brother, she had inherited good genes and had a mental capacity to envy. The girl was only a year younger than Ned, and yet he made a point of treating her like a child. After many fights and discussions to find a theme that met his sister's “aesthetic pinterest” requirements, Ned agreed to have a masquerade costume party where everyone had to wear personalized masks for their characters to “encourage creativity” in his words.

Although it wasn't much talked about, everyone knew that Ned and his family were well-off, and that consequently their house was big enough to easily house more than 100 people without them all bumping into each other. Ned looks back one more time before opening the door, already leaving a jar of sweets at the entrance for the guests to pick up as soon as they arrive at the house. The dark-haired man opens the door, only to find Peter standing there, while other cars are already parking so as not to have any problems, but late in the day with a lack of space on the street.

“What's up, man?” Ned smiles when he finds his best friend, Peter Parker, dressed as the Phantom of the Opera. “I liked the costume, but I thought you'd come as Zorro with me.”

Peter wasn't one to talk about liking musicals, but one of the few ones he really admired was “The Phantom of the Opera”, which became one of his secret passions after his aunt took him to see it on Broadway a few years ago. Parker didn't have his face completely hidden as it should have been, but it was what he had for that day, and he was going to use that to his advantage rather than spend more time making an artwork that would probably look terrible.

“That one was on sale.” The student says quietly, then laughs and enters the house as soon as the door closes behind him.

The house was decorated with mainly purple and blue neon lights, while the windows bore handprints smeared with fake blood. On some walls you could see some mystical beings pasted on, while some projected ghosts were flying over the kitchen ceiling. Cobwebs were used on furniture, themed food was displayed on the kitchen worktop, and the rest of the decoration was based on cushions, candles and decorative utensils.

“Let me think about who did all the decorating.” Peter looks around, admiring Ned's sister's creativity.

“Don't even tell me about it.” Ned rolls his eyes. “I told Y/n to keep it simple, but you know how she is about parties. It always has to be her way, or she'll freak out.” Ned comments, taking a seat among the decorative pumpkin cushions in the living room.

The sound of the doorbell ringing catches the boys' attention, while Leeds spares no effort to call out his sister's name so that she can welcome the guests. The girl doesn't answer, causing her older brother to curse to himself and shout once more:

“Y/N. COME DOWN HERE AND WELCOME THE GUESTS ALREADY.”

“I'M FINISHING MY HAIR, YOU SELFISH PRICK. I DON'T HURRY YOU WHEN YOU'RE TAKING TOO LONG TO GET READY TO GO OUT WITH BETTY” The girl shouts, opening the door to her room and then slamming it shut.

“Son of a bitch.” Ned puts one of his hands to his face, getting up from the sofa to greet his sister's guests, while Peter reacts with a low laugh. “Make yourself at home, Pete. My sister will be down soon, and you talk to her.”

(...)

The sound of the conversations seemed to overpower the loud music, and apparently Y/n's idea was working. The girl had the masks in mind so that there would be no differentiation between groups of friends, allowing everyone to express themselves as they saw fit, and to be able to talk to people outside their group of friends without feeling threatened. Y/n was sitting at the kitchen table, her two hands resting on the side of her body as she chatted with some friends. Her white dress hugged her hips, while her loose hair only enhanced her beauty.

From afar, it was possible to see the house full. Some were in the living room playing “Just Dance”, while others were in the kitchen drinking and some in the games room using the pool table for their drinks bets. Fortunately, it wasn't as rowdy as university parties, but Ned was certainly a lot more worried about someone using his motel room. The student was sitting in the living room, watching his colleagues from the robotics class sweating in their costumes as they danced to 'Timber', and doing extremely badly. Peter, on the other hand, was chatting to some girls in his class.

Peter Parker never stopped being a nerd, but he also never stopped being extremely attractive. Many girls liked Peter, while the boys didn't know whether to try to befriend Parker in order to benefit from the girls, or just swear at him so that he would lose their confidence.

“I didn't know you were in a couple.” One of the girls dressed as Doroty commented to the brunette.

“I'm not.” Peter commented, grimacing and looking around in search of a twin of his costume.

“That girl is wearing the Christine Daaé costume,” another girl pointed out, causing the brunette to turn quickly to face her.

She was beautiful, delicate and her eyes were mesmerizing. Her legs were exposed, while her feet wore low heels in the same pearly color as her dress. The girl also had little sparkly star-shaped clips in her curly babylined hair. Her mask was white with lace around it, making her eyes stand out even more

It was sexy, tempting, intriguing.

“Do you know who it is? Her mask doesn't let me identify who it is.” The brunette commented, still watching the girl who was laughing at other people's conversations with her apparent friends.

“Go and ask.” The other girl dressed as Glinda comments, watching as Peter says goodbye and heads in the direction of his character's romantic partner.

Peter approaches with slow steps, adjusting his mask and cape, trying not to look strange as he approaches her, but before he can say anything, the girl calls out to him with a smile on her face, waving one of her hands at him.

“Hi, Peter.” The girl calls out.

“Hi.” He replies awkwardly. “I like your costume.” He points to the white dress, along with the corset that makes her breasts look higher.

“And I like yours.” She replied, realizing that he hadn't recognized her.

Y/n was no different from her classmates, and the other girls in the other classes. Y/n would never tell her brother about the little crush she had on her brother's best friend, but she always watched from afar. Taking advantage of the fact that she was wearing a mask, she thought she could use this to her advantage. Because if he didn't recognize her, maybe she could try something more like the way she daydreamed when she had her imaginary scenarios before bed. She was his best friend's sister, and if he knew that, he would never try anything.

“Are you friends with Ned's sister?” The girl asked, getting off the workbench and approaching the brunette, who came closer to her ear so she could speak.

“I know her, but I don't talk to her that much. Whenever I come here to study with Ned or play video games, she's doing something. Or at school in the drama club, or book club, or at the mall with her friends, or even sleeping in her four-poster. Anyway, it's very difficult for us to meet other than at school.” The boy says loudly into the girl's ear, who agrees with a smile on her face as she feels him close to her.

“Have you and Ned been friends for a long time?” The girl stands on her tiptoes to comment in the costume designer's ear.

“We have been for quite a while, actually. Since they were 12, and you? Are you friends with his sister?” Peter asks, leaving Y/n against the wall at his question.

She didn't want to lie to Peter, because if he found out about this little lie, he might look at her with different eyes. The girl just nodded, turning quickly to the side, where some drinks were positioned on the counter decorated with cobwebs and toy spiders. The girl faced the table, picked up a red cup, and looked at Peter as if to ask if he wanted a drink. Peter doesn't usually drink, but he would, just to be able to keep up with the mysterious girl.

“What do you recommend?” He moves closer, standing with his shoulders side by side with hers.

“What do you like?” The girl asks, opening the clear bottle of vodka.

“Girls dressed as Christine Daaé.” He tucks a piece of Y/n's loose hair behind her ear, causing the girl to let out a low laugh and nod. “And you?”

Y/n stares at him, making a point of penetrating him with her eyes, as if he could be restrained alive by intention alone. The younger girl approaches, raising her head to answer him as he narrows his gaze:

“Boys with attitude… and tequila sunrise” Y/n comments, drawing a silly laugh from Peter.

At that moment, not even the people passing by could make the tension disappear from the air, and only those who could feel the heat of desire take over their bodies were attracted. Peter wasn't the type to do things quickly, as he liked to pay attention to detail, but it was a party and not a play for him to declare himself. The girl looked at the table with several bottles on it, stared at them for a few seconds, and then turned her gaze to Peter once more, waiting for him to do something other than talk. Fortunately, the brunette slid one of his fingers down the younger girl's exposed arm, reaching her free hand and saying:

“Do you want to go somewhere else?”

(...)

The music and side conversations were no longer loud, and there was a certain peace wherever they were going. Y/n had her hands intertwined with Peter's, guiding him into a room that was being used as an office. It was large, with dark wooden shelves and a glass table in the center behind a large window that mirrored the moonlight. Y/n and Ned's parents were realtors in New York, but the bad part was that they also owned an agency, which meant that every month they had to travel out of state to resolve or improve an issue in the company.

Y/n closed the white door behind her, allowing Peter to step away from her and look at the books on the shelves, and some paintings too. Y/n was easily charmed by Peter's knowledge, as he was good at everything he did and knew a bit about everything. The brunette gently touched the base of the books, pulling them out to read their titles. The girl didn't hurry, she just followed him, putting her hands on his shoulders and kissing his neck without pulling him away, but Peter wasn't there to look at books.

The boy turned to the clean, innocent image that Y/n was passing by, putting his hands on her waist and finally pressing his lips to hers. The kiss began slowly, increasing in intensity as their tongues caught fire and their hands roamed their bodies. Parker moaned softly against the younger girl's lips, holding onto her waist tighter and tighter, waiting for the slightest sign that he could lose himself completely in the mysterious girl's body. Y/n, for his part, ran his nails down the buttons of his white shirt, slowly unbuttoning them.

And that was the last straw

“Can I touch you?” Peter asked breathlessly.

“Please.” Y/n asked in a low grunt, causing the boy to hold her in his lap, placing her on the glass table.

Peter put his weight on Y/n, lifting the rest of the dress that fell down her legs, to finally reach her smooth thighs. The girl tilted her head back, as if asking him to go deeper. Peter could feel his pants getting tighter and tighter, while his fingers seemed to search for a treasure in the middle of Y/n's legs, leaving him completely kneeling for her. He quickly removed his mask, throwing it on the floor and enjoying the wet core that was already waiting for him. Peter held Y/n's thighs tightly, pulling her closer to his mouth, which couldn't seem to take the pleasure. His tongue slid between her clitoris and her entrance, painting her orgasm in an explosion of guarded feelings. The girl held tightly to Parker's hair, which was now messy.

“Fuck, you taste amazing,” Peter said against her wet pussy.

“Keep going, please.” The girl pleaded desperately, having her request granted as soon as she felt the student's tongue enter her pussy. “That's fucking it!”

Peter stood up, noticing that Y/n's legs already seemed to be shaking. In a moment of anguish and desire, he held her from behind, allowing her to taste him. They both moaned in satisfaction, allowing the younger girl to touch Peter's penis, which marked his pants. Y/n bent down, trying to unbutton Peter's pants, quickly unzipping them and placing the black fabric on the floor. When the girl tried to put her feet on the carpet and kneel down, Peter stopped her with a kiss and denied her with his head, saying:

“I want you.” He said with swollen lips. “Do you want me?”

Y/n doesn't respond, but his body does. His hair stood on end, and his legs spread wider so that he could fit in. Quickly taking off his underpants and throwing them to a forgotten side of the room, Peter pumped his penis a few times, and you could see the glow that his tip exuded from his over-excitement. The brunette kept his hands strong, biting his lip to control the loud moans that begged to come out. Y/n just watched, putting her hands behind her corset to untie her belly, which was compressed by the garment. They both stared at each other for a moment, appreciating their bodies from top to bottom, exuding their desire through their sin-subdued gazes.

“Shit. The condom is in my wallet pocket that was left in the car.” Peter remembers, cursing under his breath for having forgotten the fact.

“I take birth control. It's fine.” She says, knowing that Peter would be trustworthy enough to use the privilege of using a contraceptive.

“Really?” Parker questions her to make sure of what she was saying.

“Yes.” She shakes her head energetically.

Peter moves closer to Y/n, already feeling that his legs would collapse just from her touch. Y/n bites her lower lip at the image of the boy entering her sensitive spot, absorbing all of her thickness to the point where the girl in the white dress puts her own hand over her mouth to cover the loud moan that escapes her pink lips. Peter holds her by the waist, while the girl's body is practically leaning over the table, giving the brunette room to reach the bottom of the woman's pussy. They can both feel their sweaty skins coming into contact, and the sound of them slapping together as the movement increases.

“Peter.” The girl moans.

“Do you like it? Tell me how you like it.” The brunette asked, furrowing his brows as he moaned lowly, waiting for an answer.

“I've wanted you for so long. You have no idea.” Y/n moans louder, feeling the tip of Peter's penis hit her G-spot.

“We should have done this before then, princess. You fit me so well.” He grunts, increasing his speed and feeling his legs tremble with each thrust.

“You wouldn't notice me.” She comments impatiently and slyly.

“It's impossible for me not to notice someone like you, angel.” He stretches his hand out to one of the woman's breasts, making her place one of her hands on top of his, indirectly asking him to squeeze them. “I'm going to come like this, princess.”

“Me too. Please don't stop.”

Y/n moved her hips, searching for more pleasure, following the movements of the older man who, in a few seconds, hugged her tightly, putting his member in much deeper than before, ejaculating his hot liquid at the same time as his partner dug her pink nails into his shirt, screaming into his shoulder with her legs wrapped around his hips. Their legs tremble and their mouths return to a calm, wet kiss, catching their breath and slowly pulling their faces apart until their eyes penetrate each other once more, even interpreted in such a dirty way that it could be considered a crime.

“Are you all right?” Peter asks, running one of his hands through Y/n's messy hair.

“Yeah, and you?“ Y/n asks.”Shit, my friends must be looking for me.”

“Sure, mine too.” Peter agrees, slowly withdrawing his member from Y/n's vagina, and looking for the rest of her clothes while the girl re-ties her corset. “I still don't know your name.” Peter comments.

“And would it be important to know?” Y/n smiles softly, watching him only in the moonlight.

“Not really.” Peter comments, finishing putting on his pants, which were lying on the floor. “I wasn't surprised you chose Phantom of the Opera, by the way.” Peter commented, pointing with his chin at the girl's outfit that had come down from the table.

“And why not?” Y/n fixes her hair, tilting her head to one side as soon as Peter asks.

“Because I was the one who left the flowers in your dressing room after you finished your performance, Y/n. By the way, great idea to reuse the costume. You look hot in it.” Peter buttons up his white blouse.

Y/n stops for a second, realizing that she wasn't as cunning as she thought she was. The girl opens her mouth to try to say something, but realizes it was all a game. Peter walks over to her, finishing buttoning his last button. The brunette bends down to pick up his mask and then puts it on, still watching Y/n's perplexed face.

“Why didn't you tell me you knew who I was?”

“Isn't that what masks were for?” Peter gives a sideways smile, kissing the top of Y/n's head gently.

The boy turns around, opening the door and leaving the room.

“ Motherfucker” Y/n curses him, smiling at his incredulity.

#tom holland #tom holland x fem #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker oneshot #mcu peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #mcu!peter x reader #peter parker fanfiction

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andvys · 1 year ago

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I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 9

Warnings: none. just pure fluff and only a sprinkle of angst. no Steve in this one, he will be back in part ten! It's not proofread very well so if you find any mistakes, just ignore it pleaseee

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Your friends surprise you on Christmas night.

Word count: 5.6k

series masterlist

Halloween used to be your favorite holiday, Christmas used to be your second favorite.

Now you can’t stand either of them.

Both days remind you of him.

Halloween reminds you of the heartbreak and the pain.

Christmas reminds you of the happiness and the joy you used to feel when he was still yours.

You used to celebrate it, but now it’s just a day filled with painful memories.

You’re home alone, your mom was supposed to have the day off but an emergency call forced her back to the hospital. Now you sit in the lonesome living room with a box of Christmas cookies on the table. The room smells like pine from the christmas tree, the TV is on, the light of it illuminates the darkness in the room.

You pull the soft blanket higher and lean your head on the pillows behind you. You stare blankly at the screen. It’s been three days since you shared your last day with Steve, you haven’t seen or heard from him ever since. He let go, just like you asked him to.

There is still so much pain but the numbness overweighs it all right now. Minutes and days have passed yet you feel like nothing is moving forward. You are stuck in a vicious loop of self doubt and hopelessness.

A knock on the door pulls you out of your thoughts and startles you a little, you sit up and push the blanket off of you. A second knock sounds through the house. Rolling your eyes, you get up from the sofa and leave the living room. You hear voices on the other side of the door and you instantly know who it is.

You open the door and just as you had suspected, you find your friends standing on your porch. Chrissy, Heather and Eddie. You can’t help but feel surprised to see the three of them together.

He is holding a brown bag, you can already smell the fast food. Heather is holding another bag that you can’t help but take a peek into, you see the Christmas themed wrapping paper right away.

Chrissy and Heather greet you as excitedly as always.

“Hey sweetheart,” Eddie grins, waving his fingers at you.

A smile tugs at your lips, you furrow your brows as you look at them.

“Hi, what are you guys doing here?”

You haven’t seen Heather and Chrissy since the night at the dance, they have been busy with Christmas preparations. Eddie was working on Wayne’s car with him and busy writing songs with Jeff and you were busy trying to get over some things. You open the door further and step to the side to let them in.

“To spend Christmas with you,” Heather smiles and moves past you.

Chrissy walks in next, looking at you with a bright smile on her face as she whispers hi again.

“Hi,” you giggle.

“We brought the best Christmas food,” Eddie jokes as he hands you the bag of fast food. He closes the door after he steps inside.

“Benny’s burgers are the best,” you say as you look into the bag. “Aren’t you guys supposed to be with your families?”

“My mom invited a bunch of people over, including the Carver’s,” Chrissy mumbles with a disgusted look on her face, “I sneaked out, she won’t even notice I’m gone.”

“Jason Carver is at your house?” Eddie asks, looking just as disgusted as Chrissy does.

“Yeah,” she rolls her eyes.

“I spent Christmas eve with my parents, they told me to spend the day with you,” Heather shrugs and then gives you a stern look, “and why did we have to find out that you’re alone tonight, through him?” She asks, nudging her chin towards Eddie.

“Wait what?”

Eddie chuckles, he wraps his arm around your shoulder and looks down at you, “I ran into your mom this morning, she told me that she was called in for work so I called your girls and here we are.”

Your eyes soften as they lock with his.

You and Eddie have been friends for almost two months now and while you had been spending a lot of time together, there haven’t been any occasions where your friends had joined your hangouts. He had briefly talked to them a few times but that’s all. To know that he had put in the effort into making your night better, calling your friends up to come here, warms your heart.

“You’re the best,” you whisper, “but what about Wayne?”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about him, he was called in for work, like your mom.”

Chrissy looks between you and Eddie, a slight frown appears on her face, one that only Heather seems to notice.

“Uh let’s eat!” She says and grabs the bag out of your hands after placing the one with the presents on the ground.

You and Eddie look away from each other. He clears his throat and you turn to look at your friends, Chrissy isn’t smiling anymore, if anything, she looks annoyed, “I’m gonna get some plates,” she says and walks into the kitchen.

“Are we gonna eat in the living room?” Heather asks.

You nod at her and go after Chrissy.

“Are you okay, Chris?” You ask as you step into the kitchen.

“Yeah!” She says as she reaches for the plates in the cupboard, she turns back around with a smile on her face, “why wouldn’t I be?”

You can see the forced smile, the look in her eyes that is anything but happy.

You shrug, “I don’t know, you seem tense,” you say as you open the fridge to get some drinks.

She hesitates for a moment, she stares at the back of your head and shifts on her feet.

“I– it’s just, Jason.”

It’s a lie. You know it is. Heather and Chrissy might have spared you all the details about their love lives because they knew how much you were struggling yourself. Despite you telling them that you are always there for them, they still wanted to protect you from any kind of negativity. Which you hate. You want to be there for them, just like they are always there for you.

“What about him?” You ask and turn around to face her after closing the fridge, “did he do something?”

She shakes her head, “no, he’s just very persistent but it’s nothing new,” she sighs and looks down, “he’s trying to get me to go on a date with him.”

You roll your eyes at her words, you hate Jason Carver. You hate the way he thinks that he can have anything and everything.

“I’ll never understand how some guys won’t take no for an answer,” you mumble, “I could kick his ass for you.”

She giggles, shaking her head.

“Or we could find you a boyfriend who will kick his ass.”

You watch her closely and you can see the way her eyes flash with something unrecognizable. Her smile falls but only for a second, if you weren’t watching her so closely, you wouldn’t have noticed it.

“Are you guys coming?” Heather asks.

“Yeah.”

You nudge your head towards the doorway, “come on.”

As you walk back into the living room, you sense the awkwardness right away. You notice the smug look on Heather’s face and the blush on Eddie’s cheeks. You furrow your brows as you look between them, wondering what she had said to him to make him look so embarrassed.

You look down and place the drinks on the table.

“Well, that’s gonna be the best Christmas dinner ever.”

“This is our turkey and mashed potatoes,” Heather jokes.

Chrissy puts the plates on the table before she sits down on the armchair, crossing her leg over the other.

Eddie scoots closer to the edge, already looking at you. You smile and sit down beside him.

“What did you do after the dance?” Heather asks, looking between you and Eddie, the smug smile still present. She places the burger and fries on the plate, giving you the first one.

You and Eddie glance at each other.

“We went to the diner,” you say as you reach for the plate, muttering a small ‘thank you’.

“Yeah and then we had a movie night and got high together,” Eddie chuckles.

“And what did you do, Heather?” You ask, “when I left, you were with Billy.”

Eddie scrunches his face up in disgust, “Hargrove?” He asks with a judgmental look on his face.

Heather glares at him, “he can be nice.”

Chrissy snorts, “yeah, when he wants something.”

“Maybe he has a soft spot for Heather,” you smirk, wiggling your brows at your best friend.

She rolls her eyes, though the blush on her cheek isn’t hard to miss.

“I still don’t like him,” Chrissy mumbles.

“You don’t like any of the guys we date, Chris.” You joke.

“Yeah, maybe because you choose to date the shittiest guys,” she retorts with a sassy tone.

You raise your brows in surprise while Eddie chuckles, his dark eyes flashing with amusement when he turns to look at you.

“She’s right, Hargrove and Harrington aren’t really the best guys around.”

“There aren’t any best guys around in the first place,” Chrissy mumbles in annoyance before she looks at Eddie, “no offense.”

“None taken,” he chuckles.

You agree with her partly. There are still some good guys around but there are also too many bad ones – Steve might not be a bad person but he sure wasn’t the best boyfriend. You wouldn’t call him a shitty one though – but maybe that’s because you still love him.

You wonder where he is tonight.

Is he with his family?

Is he with her family?

Is he still with her or did he break things off with her after your night together?

Is he – no. Stop it, just stop thinking about him, you tell yourself. You force your mind to think about something else, about someone else.

“I got the best guy around,” you smile and lean your head on Eddie’s shoulder.

Chrissy sighs, her blue eyes are filled with annoyance but only Eddie seems to notice.

You look at Heather, she is furrowing her brows at something Eddie said, she looks confused but she still laughs. You had always been nervous about this. About your friends not getting along with Eddie. You are aware of how he feels about people who are popular and about the things people say about him at school, hell, you remember the way he was so nervous the first few times you spoke to him, he tried to mask it with humor and confidence but you saw right through him. You know that he had been nervous about meeting your friends – two popular cheerleaders who associate with guys like Billy Hargrove and Jason Carver. You were scared that they would hate each other but clearly, you shouldn’t have worried that much, besides, Eddie is not your boyfriend. He is just a friend.

Now as you look at Heather and Eddie, you can’t help but notice the resemblance. They kind of look alike. Her hair is just as dark, long and curly as his. Pale skin. Dark eyes and pouty lips. They look like siblings.

You can feel his eyes on you and you can also feel Chrissy’s eyes on you.

You wonder what she is thinking about. Ever since your breakup with Steve, she has been fiercely protective over you and she gets mad at any guy who even looks your way.

It’s cute. But you are not looking for new relationships any time soon so there is nothing for her to worry about, right?

After your ‘christmas dinner’, you all exchange gifts. Eddie promises to give you his present later. By the blush on his cheeks, you can tell that he is too shy to give it to you now, in front of your friends.

He takes it upon himself to use your polaroid camera to take pictures of you and your friends, not wanting to sit there awkwardly and stare at you as you unwrap the present you got from Chrissy.

He smiles when you squeal in excitement at the new book collection, your eyes light up and you throw your arms around her.

“Psst.”

Eddie lowers the camera after taking a picture of you. He looks over at Heather, who scoots closer to him.

“I see you’re having fun,” she teases with yet another smirk on her face.

Eddie shakes his head and looks down. Something he never thought would happen is him getting along with your friends. He was incredibly nervous when he called them today, he did it for you. He wanted you to have a nice day, a day filled with new memories instead of old ones that will always take you back to someone who hurt you.

Eddie shouldn’t have worried that much. Chrissy and Heather are nice. They didn’t throw him any judgmental looks nor did they snap at him the way other girls from the cheer squad would do. They are nice and they accept him – as your friend.

“Yeah, I’m taking pictures of my friend.”

Heather snorts.

You push all your presents to the side and take a look at all the pictures Eddie took of you with your friends. A small frown appears on your face and you look up at him, “we need a picture together too.”

“You want one?” Eddie asks, smiling.

“Yes!”

“I can take one of you guys,” Heather says with a smug look on her face as she sends yet another smirk at Eddie. You don’t see it and you don’t see the way he huffs as he shakes his head.

You walk towards him. He hands the polaroid camera to Heather.

You and Eddie smile at each other, he holds his arm up and you curl under his arm, placing your hand on his back.

The mischief in Heather’s eyes should be enough of a warning to Eddie but when she tells you both to take a few steps back, he just knows.

“Take another step back,” she says, gesturing you to go back further.

“Just take the picture, Heather!” You say.

“I’m trying to get the best position.”

And the best position is in the doorway.

“Oopsie,” Heather giggles, “look up.”

Mistletoe.

Chrissy rolls her eyes as she looks at you and Eddie. She turns away and begins to gather all the wrapping paper.

You giggle and Eddie snorts, “seriously?” He asks.

Before you can even react, Eddie wraps both arms around you and picks you up, he presses his lips against your cheek, kissing you loudly which only makes you giggle even louder. You wrap your arms around his neck and close your eyes with a smile on your face.

You are not surprised by Eddie’s actions, he was always very affectionate with you. Eddie’s embrace always made you feel safe and secure.

Steve’s embrace felt different, you always loved having his arm around you, you loved it when he hugged you tightly and kissed the top of your head but while you felt at home, he always felt like he wasn’t there. Like his mind was elsewhere. Like he couldn’t relax the way you did when he held you. But as relaxed as you felt, you couldn’t help but worry and tense up a little whenever you noticed his absence.

It’s different with Eddie. He is here and he feels relaxed and it all just feels natural but maybe that’s just because he is a friend. He doesn’t have to worry about the things that Steve worried about and you don’t have to worry about where his head is at. You are friends and your love is platonic – maybe this is what should have been between you and Steve. Platonic love. Maybe things would have been better.

Heather takes the picture and laughs at the two of you.

Eddie lowers you back on the ground. A strand of his hair gets caught in your eyelash and you both giggle. He pulls it away carefully. Neither of you notice the flash going off as Heather takes another picture of the two of you.

Neither of you notice the look on Chrissy’s face as she stares at you, she frowns and her eyes are filled with sadness. Heather turns around with a smile on her face, one that quickly falls when she sees the look on her face. Guilt rushes through her, she knows how she feels.

“Can we go?” Chrissy asks her and pleads with her eyes.

Heather nods.

“Wait what?” You ask as you pull away from Eddie to walk towards her, “you want to go already?”

Chrissy nods. She puts her hand on her neck and forces a smile on her face, “y-yeah, I don’t want to get into trouble with my mom.”

“Oh, right,” you mumble.

You understand it but you know that there is more, something that she doesn’t want to tell you, something that she doesn’t want you to know. You aren’t the only one who noticed it. Eddie noticed it too. Her glances at you, the sad and longing look in her eyes.

You pull her into a hug, she instantly wraps her arms around you.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

You pull away from her to hug Heather, as well.

When they both walk away, Chrissy turns around, she looks at you and for a moment she hesitates. She halts in her tracks and her lips part, the uncertainty in her eyes makes you question her. What is going on with her? You know she wants to say something, you know she wants to talk to you but something always pulls her back. Tonight, it’s the warning look in Heather’s eyes, it’s not a mean look, not at all. But when Chrissy turns to look at Heather, there is a knowing look in both their eyes and that’s when you know for certain, they are hiding something.

Chrissy’s shoulder slump and she turns back to you with a forced smile, “bye.”

You smile weakly, the weird feeling in your chest returns – it’s the same feeling you always got when you felt that Steve was hiding something from you.

“Bye,” you whisper.

You hate it when people keep things from you. It makes you feel left out. Heather and Chrissy are your best friends, you have never kept secrets from each other, never.

But now Chrissy is keeping something from you and Heather is hiding her secret from you.

Does it have something to do with you?

What do they not want you to know?

“Y/n?”

Eddie’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts. You turn around to see him holding two presents in his hands, a smile pulling at his lips.

The frown on your face melts into a smile, “more presents?”

His dark eyes flash with excitement, he hands you the presents. You grin and bite your lip as you sit down on the couch.

“Which one should I do first?”

He shrugs, “the small one!”

“Okay,” you giggle. You place the bigger present on the table and begin to unwrap the small one. You throw the wrapping paper on the table and stare at the little box. You glance at Eddie through your lashes.

“Open it!”

His excitement makes you smile even more.

You open the box and he watches the way your eyes light up as you reach for the rings.

“Oh my god! They almost look like yours!”

Eddie chuckles, he sits down next to you, “that’s why I got them for you, I know how much you like them.”

“I love them!”

You put one on your pointer finger, another one on your middle finger and you leave the one with the black stone for your left hand, putting it on your ring finger. You wiggle your fingers as you stare at the rings, “they fit perfectly.”

“Give me your hand!” You say as you turn your body towards him. He reaches his hand out to you with a chuckle. You hold your hand up next to his and smile, “look, we’re twinning.”

Eddie leans closer and grabs your hand, “your hand is so tiny,” he says. He presses his palm against yours, smiling at the difference.

“You just have a really big hand,” you chuckle.

You keep your palm pressed against his and look up to see him looking at you. He smiles when your eyes lock. His eyes roam your face and you can’t help but smile at him too.

“You have another one,” he whispers, nudging his head towards the other present.

You blink.

“Yeah,” you whisper and pull your hand away from his. You reach for the present and eye it, wondering what it’s in there. You tear the paper off quickly. You eye the leather with big eyes, “are you kidding me?”

Eddie chuckles at your reaction.

You raise the leather jacket to get a better look at it, “how? Eddie, it's the one I told you about!” You gasp and jump up to put the jacket on.

“Figured it would be a nice present,” he smiles, happily.

“It’s the best!” You squeal and look down at it with, “you shouldn’t have–”

“I wanted to,” Eddie interrupts you and stares at you with a fond smile on his face, “look at you, you’re turning into me.”

You snort at his words. Though, he is right, kind of. After your breakup with Steve, you have slowly pulled away from the things you used to love or thought you loved. You started exploring, a little. New clothes, new colors, new music. Things that Eddie loves, you found a liking towards as well.

You throw your arms around him and hug him tightly.

“Thank you,” you whisper into his neck, “thank you for everything.”

Eddie had been more than a shoulder to lean on, in the past few months. He had been more than just a friend. He is a best friend, not like Chrissy and Heather are though. He is different somehow.

He hugs you tightly, “you’re welcome, sweetheart. I’m glad you like your presents.”

You know that he must’ve used most of his savings to get you the presents, it makes you feel guilty.

You pull back and smile, “I got you something too.”

His brown eyes flash with excitement and curiosity. You pat his shoulder and get up, reaching for his hand, “come on, it’s in my room.”

A playful smirk tugs at his lips and he wiggles his brows suggestively, “oh? A striptease?”

“Shut up!” You laugh and shake your hand as you pull him out of the living room.

He chuckles.

You run up the stairs, holding onto the railing.

“Slow down, cheerleader!”

“Can’t! I’m too excited.”

You rush into your room and turn on the light. You drop his hand and walk towards the present you have left on your dresser.

Eddie eyes you, loving the excitement on your face. He sits down on the bed. You turn around and walk back to him, handing him the present.

He eyes it, he can feel the thin paper, thinking that it’s an envelope, he sends you a teasing look, “is that a love letter?” He winks.

“Yeah,” you joke, “I know it doesn’t look like much but–”

“Hush,” Eddie says, waving you off. He looks down and tears the red paper off. When he sees the tickets, he freezes for a moment. He stares at them for a long minute before he takes them into his hand, he slowly lifts them up.

His eyes are wide and filled with shock, his lips part.

“No fucking way,” he whispers. His heart jumps in his chest as he stares at the Metallica tickets. “You didn’t!”

You clap your hands together and smile, nodding at him.

“You got me concert tickets?” He gasps. He gets up and stares at you with wide eyes. “Metallica concert tickets?”

You giggle at the shocked look on his face.

“Y/n!”

Suddenly, he jumps at you, he picks you up and spins you around, making you squeal again.

“Eddie!” You giggle.

He places you back on the ground and you both stumble forward a little, both laughing. He takes your hands in his, smiling brighter than ever. The happiness and the excitement radiates off of him. “I can’t believe you got me tickets, sweetheart!”

“I had to! They’re coming to Indianapolis! You can take Jeff or Gareth o-or Wayne, of course!”

“Are you kidding?” He asks, squeezing your hand, “I’m taking you, dumbass!”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course!”

Eddie pulls you into another hug, he squeezes you tightly. “Best present ever, sweetheart.”

“I’m glad you’re happy.”

“I am happy,” he whispers.

You didn’t think that your night would go this way, that it would bring you more than the numbness that you have been feeling the past few days. You are thankful for your friends who are always there to make things better.

You are thankful for him.

For the first time, you speak about the night with Steve. You didn’t tell Heather and Chrissy about it. You feel safe telling him about it. Eddie never judged you, as much as he always disliked Steve, he never judged you about anything that had to do with him.

He doesn’t judge you for getting drunk with him, for partying with him, for hugging him and letting him hold you, one last time.

He was the one who pushed you to talk to him, he didn’t expect this but he can’t say that he is surprised. He would have done the same thing if he was in your place.

You love Steve, you always will.

A love like this will never fade away. It makes him sad to see you suffering but letting him go, is for the better. He thinks that you need this. To be by yourself and focus on things that bring you joy, things that won’t hurt you. He can see that you are ready to move on from the past.

The music is playing, you somehow convinced Eddie to listen to The Smiths. Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now is playing. Eddie won’t admit it but he likes the song. You are holding your hand up and stare at the rings he got you. While Eddie thinks about the concert that he will go to soon, you think about what he said, a few days back.

The song stops playing and for a moment, the room is silent.

“Eddie?”

“Yes?”

“I think I’m ready.”

“Ready for what, sweetheart?”

“I’m ready to try new things, I’m ready for a fresh start.”

“What do you say?”

He reads your eyes. There is longing for something more, uncertainty and fear of the future but also excitement.

“I say that ‘85 will be your year, baby,” he smiles.

“Hmm, I say, it will be our year. ‘Cause you and I, we are both snatching that diploma and getting out of here. Got it?”

He chuckles, “got it, ma’am.”

“To ‘85!” You say, holding up your pinky to him.

His eyes flash with amusement, “you’re supposed to drink to it but sure, to ‘85.”

He hooks his pinky around yours and taps your nose with his other hand.

You both laugh and lay your heads back on the carpet. A weird feeling rushes through you, it’s not a bad one. It’s one that tells you that everything will be okay.

“You know what we should do?” You say after a moment of silence.

“What?”

You sit up and you quickly take your jacket off. He stares at you, confused. You jump up and replace the leather jacket with a flannel. You put your hand on your hips and look around for a moment, searching for something.

“What are you looking for?” He chuckles.

“Ah.”

You walk towards your dresser and open the top drawer. Eddie watches as you rummage through the drawer until you finally find what you were looking for. A black hat and a scarf, you throw it at Eddie, “put it on!”

The hat hits him in the chest, it falls to his lap and he looks down, still confused.

“What are we gonna do?”

“We’re gonna have some fun!” You say as you put your own hat on, wrapping a red scarf around your neck and putting on some gloves.

“I hate hats and scarfs,” he frowns as he already wraps the scarf around his neck.

“I know you do, Eddie.”

You walk back to him and reach for the hat, forcing it on his head.

“You’re a menace, sweetheart.”

“Because I don’t want you to catch a cold?”

“Why would I catch a cold?”

“We’re gonna have a snowball fight!” You say, excitedly as you reach for his hands and pull him up. “And then we’re gonna drink hot cocoa and watch some Christmas horror movie.”

You pull him out of your room, “and you can stay over if you want.”

He gasps playfully, “I get to sleep in the queen’s bed?” He asks as he puts his hand on his chest, “a peasant in a queen’s bed? What will the kingdom say about this?”

“Shut up, dork.”

You rush down the stairs and you both put your shoes on hastily before you leave the house. The snow is falling, it’s cold but the air is nice and the silence is welcoming. It’s dark out but the Christmas lights on your porch gleam brightly in the snow.

Eddie doesn’t even waste a second before he hits your back with a snowball.

“Hey!” You laugh as you turn around, “we didn’t even start–”

He throws another one at you but you duck this time and reach for the snow, you form the snow into a ball and throw it at him but he ducks just the way you did. You walk backwards, your boots sink into the snow, making it harder for you to escape him quickly.

Eddie laughs wickedly as he runs towards you with a snowball.

You giggle and turn around, running through the snow in your yard.

“Run little rabbit!” He says with a deep voice.

You lean down and gather some snow, “you’re not playing fair, Eddie!”

He laughs and halts in his tracks, letting you run off.

You turn around and hold the snowball up. He is standing in the snow, smirking at you, waiting for you to hit him first now. Instead of throwing it at him, you run off.

“Oh you wanna play catch?” He chuckles as he watches you run behind the house. He follows you, running after you through the snow, “I hope you know that I hate running!”

He hears your giggle but he can’t see you. He looks around, ducking to see if you are hiding behind the bushes or the trees but you are nowhere to be seen.

“You’re mean–”

The cold snow hits him on his cheek, it was a soft throw but it caught him off guard.

“Oops!”

Eddie snorts, he turns towards you, finally, he sees you behind the big oak tree. He chuckles as he wipes the snow off his cheek, he runs towards you and you squeal in surprise, running into the other direction.

You are both laughing as you run through the snow like little kids. As much as he hates running, he is still faster than you, it doesn’t take him long to catch up with you, when he does, he grabs your waist and pulls you back, picking you up again which only makes you squeal again.

“Got ya!” He whispers in your air and spins you around until he trips on a tree branch under the snow, making you both fall down. His back hits the snow and yours hits his chest but it only makes you laugh harder.

“That’s your definition of a snowball fight, sweetheart?”

You roll off of him, laying down on the snow beside him.

“You started it,” you laugh.

“It was your idea!”

You giggle, you grab some snow and throw it on his chest.

“See! You’re a little menace!” He laughs and does the same to you, making you giggle louder.

You go back and forth that way until you both get tired of it.

He gets up first and reaches for your hands, pulling you up after dusting the snow off of his clothes.

It starts snowing harder than before, large snowflakes fall from the sky and a smile tugs at your lips as you tilt your head up to look at the falling snow.

You forget everything for a moment and he can tell by the look on your face. You look at peace and the smile on your face is genuine, for a moment, you look happy and Eddie can’t help but smile as he watches you.

Neither of you notice how intimate this moment looks. How you stand there chest to chest as you look up and he looks down at you.

You and Eddie are just friends but to an outsider it looks more than that.

To Steve, it looks more than that.

Whatever had dragged him here, quickly forces him to leave again when he sees you with him. When he sees you standing on the same spot where he had kissed you for the very first time – now you stand there with him, with another man.

And despite what happened between the two of you a few nights ago, despite the heartbreak he had already felt, he feels it yet again.

You let him go but can he let you go?

next part

Don't yell at me about the Eddie x reader in this one! This is still a Steve fic!

Tagging friends & mutuals!

@mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedcorpses @corrodedseraphine @screammunson @hellfire--cult @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @sherrylyn628 @nemesis729 @somethingvicked @take-everything-you-can @taintedcigs

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things angst

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pseudonymjones · 2 months ago

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This week, my daughter and I watched Follow That Bird, the 1985 Sesame Street movie. (I hadn’t watched it since I was her age but I know I enjoyed it enough back then to dress as Big Bird the subsequent Halloween.) The premise is Big Bird gets placed in a foster family he hates and decides to walk from Illinois back to Sesame Street (in NYC) and all his friends do a road trip to try and help him get home. Bert and Ernie fly a biplane, The Count drives this wild vampire-themed hot rod, and Cookie Monster eats a Volkswagen Beetle over the course of the film. It’s good.

Anyway it opens with Oscar singing The Grouch Anthem (attached), and imho this deserves to be remembered alongside all the other great Muppet songs of the era. It’s been in my head all week, so I’m sharing it with you.

#follow that bird #oscar the grouch

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yoonguurt · 1 year ago

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Summary: Christmas this, Christmas that. The “Most wonderful time of the year” is not how Y/N would describe it. Sure, it used to be a magical time full of happiness and love, but she let that belief go years ago. Christmas is all about how much money you spend on someone and making yourself look good to outsiders. Snow is wet and everything is cold during this time of year, makes everything gross. Her best friend is tired of having The Grinch as a roommate, especially when he remembers what it was like when she loved Christmas. This year, he finally decides that it’s time to bring the magic back into her life. Maybe that magic will bring a little love with it.

Pairing: Bang Chan x fem!reader

Word Count:9,603

Genre/themes/au: fluff, smut, a tiny bit of angst; friends to lovers, roommates to lovers; it's a Christmas fic, yall.

Warnings: parental abandonment, masturbation(f), unprotected sex(NO! BAD!), fingering, oral (f rec), daddy kink (it just kind of happened ok), allusion to a hand kink but I didn't really act on it. I think that's it, but let me know if i missed something. My work is 18+ minors are not tolerated here. Be gone, child.

Walking through the front door, the sound of Christmas music and the blinking of festive lights hits your senses immediately. ‘God dammit, Chris. It's literally the 1st.’ You love having your best friend as a roommate, you really do, but his holiday spirit is not something you enjoy at this moment.

When he goes all out for New Year's? All good. Valentine's Day? Fuck yeah, let's it chocolate. Halloween? Yes bitch, let's get spooky. But Christmas? It's a no from you. That's where you draw the line.

His voice floats through your ears as he sings along to whatever annoying song is on. ‘At least it's not All I Want For Christmas is You.’ The beautiful tone of his soft singing almost brings you out of your grumpy mood. Almost. You love his voice, it does things to you. It makes you happy and relaxed. It also turns you on, but he doesn't need to know that. If it weren't for the fact that he's so into this damn holiday, everything would be perfect.

“You're letting the heat out. And stop looking so mad, you knew this was coming.” His words draw you from your thoughts and you squint your eyes at him in a glare. By the bright smile on his face, he obviously doesn't care about your death stare. You toss your backpack aside, kicking your shoes off with a sigh. It’s been a long day of classes and assignments and you really just want to sit on the couch and watch true crime.

Chris has a pep in his step as he walks to the couch, throwing himself down on the cushions and opening his arms wide. He knows what you want, of course he knows. He tilts his head toward the spot beside him, a soft smile replacing the beaming one he had when you walked in. Your feet shuffle across the carpet as you make your way to him, promptly plopping down next to him and letting him wrap his arms around you.

Chris is your person. He may not have been in your life from the start, but the 2 years he has been has solidified his place for years to come. He's your best friend, sometimes you think he may even be your soulmate, but you don't have the courage to tell him just how deep in you are for him.

You met Chris in freshman year of college, having shared the first class of the semester together. You had taken the seat next to you, immediately giving you the beautiful smile he seems to almost always have. Now, you are in no way a shy person, not even close, but being the focus of his wide smile never fails to bring a blush to your cheeks. It's been like that since day one, you're just better at hiding it now.

One class turned into three that semester and the two of you clicked immediately. He's a bit more outgoing than you are, but not by a whole lot. He just has an aura of comfort and it reeled you in and you haven't been able to get rid of him sense, not that you want to, anyway. You're down bad.

At the beginning of sophomore year, the two of you opted for getting an apartment together rather than staying in the dorms. It just made more sense that way. You got to live off campus with your best friend, and you had someone to split the rent with.

The sound of a movie beginning to play on the tv jolted you from your thoughts. Eyes flicking up to the screen, a groan immediately left your throat without much thought. A hand rubbing up and down your back reminded you of the comforting presence beside you. “A Christmas movie? Really, Chris?” You can feel his mood shift and you’re filled with a small amount of guilt. You know he loves Christmas, he loves holidays in general, but Christmas always puts him in a particular cheery mood. But he also knows how much you detest the holiday. But then again, he has always been willing to do things he hates just because it’s something you want to do.

The weight of his arm disappears from your body and your head snaps up to face him. ‘Great. I’ve finally pushed him into anger.’ You know that he isn’t angry with you, but the little voice in your head can’t help but override your rationality. The two of you sit in silence for a while, both of you focusing on the images flickering across the tv screen. You’re not as much focusing on the movie as just having a place for your eyes to land. You can tell that Chris is in thought, he’s unusually quiet. There is a tension in the air, thick with guilt and worry.

By the time the movie is, what you assume, half way through, Chris reaches forward to press the pause button on the remote. The scene stops in the middle of a conversation and the looks on the characters’ faces brings a small snort from your nose. It’s always been a game between the two of you. Someone pauses a movie or show randomly, trying to find the best funny face someone on screen is making. You turn to the man beside you, ready to talk about the game, only to see how serious his face is.

“I’m not going to ask why you hate Christmas so much, I already know that.” The mention of the reason for your Grinch-like attitude makes you wince, though you try to hide it. That obviously doesn’t work because a warm hand finds its way back around your shoulders, giving a squeeze of reassurance. “But I am going to ask that you do me a favor.” Your heart races at his words. You give him a nod, letting him know that you’re listening. “Give me until Christmas Eve to change your opinion.”

That is not what you were expecting. You thought he’d ask you to keep your holly jolly hating thoughts to yourself. You had no idea how he even thought he could change your mind. Hating Christmas had been a part of you since before you met Chris. It wasn’t your whole personality, that would be awful, but it was well known amongst your friends that you and Christmas didn’t get along. Chris was one of the only people in your friend group that knew the exact reason. You love your friends and as much as you trust them, you don’t want to deal with the looks. You had worried about that when you told Chris, but he hadn’t looked at you like other people would have. Of course he hadn’t. He was Chris. He was perfect.

“What do you mean?” You mentally rolled your eyes at yourself, it felt like a dumb question. Your best friend’s gaze held no anger, and didn't make you feel stupid for asking. He just gave you a soft smile, his hand coming to push your hair behind your ear. “Give me 23 days to make Christmas a happy time for you again. Three weeks. We’ll do two small things a week, and one big thing on the weekend. Today is Friday, so the first big activity can be tomorrow. There are two more weekends between now and Christmas Eve. The last big thing will be on Christmas Eve. If your thoughts on the holiday aren’t changed by midnight on Christmas Day, I’ll tone down the holiday cheer next year. Deal?”

“Alright.” You can see that he senses the hesitancy in your voice, but he doesn't say anything. Just reaches his hand out towards you, waiting for you to take it in a handshake. ‘This is certainly going to be interesting.’ You have no idea what he could possibly have planned, but you're curious.

You slept in the next morning, which felt amazing. You honestly expected Chris to wake you up early for his big adventure, but you were damn glad he didn't. Taking your time in getting up, you finally crawl out of bed to brush your teeth before emerging from your room. Your first stop would be the kitchen, you need coffee. As soon as you hit the end of the hallway, a mug sat on the counter, still steaming. You couldn't help the smile that graced your lips at the sight.

Chris had made a habit of setting your coffee out for you before he went to the gym. It was a small thing, but it always made your heart skip. Now that he wasn't home, you could let yourself stew in your feelings. You aren't sure when your feelings for him had changed, you just knew that they had.

Maybe it was last month when he had stayed up all night taking care of you when you had the flu. Maybe it was last year when your boyfriend had broken up with you and he had made a blanket fort in the living room and watched Disney movies with you. Perhaps it was a month after starting school and you had to miss a week of class, only to come back to a set of notes he had taken for you. You couldn't be certain.

You bumble around the apartment, looking for things to do. You had to admit, even though you hate Christmas and anything to do with it, you were excited to see what Chris had planned. You doubted he could actually change your mind, but it was better to not tell him that.

Thinking back to your life before Chris, your thoughts landed on the reason you hate this goddamn holiday. Your father. Waking up on Christmas morning only to find him nowhere in sight and your mother in shambles. You were sixteen. He had left a note explaining that he had found a new life, one that didn't include you or your mother. Prick. That had solidified your hatred. You struggled to pick up the pieces of your mother’s broken heart, and after a while you had succeeded, but there was still a void.

She had eventually remarried once you had gone off to school, and while she was happy with the way her life turned out, you were still angry. Still hurt. Still hated Christmas. You love your stepfather dearly, but the memory of that shitty Christmas morning still reigns supreme.

The jingling of keys brought you out of your angry thoughts. The door opened and there was your best friend, the object of your unknown affections. He was still sweaty from his intense workout. ‘Fuck. He really is going to give me a heart attack one of these days.’ Your stomach was doing flips. He looked so good. Biting your lip, you admire him for a moment longer before calling out to him.

“Thanks for the coffee.” He turns to you, eyes wide, obviously startled. You suppress a giggle, knowing it would only make him pout at your amusement. “No need for thanks, pretty girl.” There goes your stomach again, your heart joining its waltz of emotion. Pet names aren't a new thing for him, it's something he's done for months now, but it still affects like it had the very first time.

“So, what's the big activity you have planned?” You watch as he kicks off his shoes, making sure to place them neatly on the shoe rack you keep next to the door. He tsks at you as he makes his way to stand in front of you. “Nope. Not a chance. It's a surprise.” An immediate pout comes across your face, causing a loud laugh from the man in front of you. Your pout only deepens. Before you realize what is happening, Chris reaches forward, squishing your cheeks in his hand and leaning closer. “No pouting. I'm gonna shower and we can go.” He lets go of your face and leans back, smirking a bit as he turns and walks down the hall. “Make sure to wear something warm!” His loud voice rings out through the apartment, and you sigh, getting up to go get dressed.

This is not what you expected. To be fair, you don't really know what you expected, but an ice skating rink wasn't it. Chris must be able to see the confusion on your face, because he laughs and reaches for your hand. “Ice skating is an important part of the holiday season.” This is news to you.

His hand doesn't leave yours as he pulls you towards the small building that houses the skate rentals. After a moment of waiting in line, you step up to the counter, pulling your wallet out to pay. “The hell do you think you're doing?” Chris has a serious face as he looks at you with furrowed brows. “Paying?” You didn't mean for your words to come out as a question. He shakes his head adamantly, gently pushing your arm back. ‘Should have known. Always has to pay.’ Every time he does this, your mind briefly wonders if you're on a date, but you always shake that thought away.

Stepping onto the ice is always a little scary. It's not like you've never gone ice skating, but you always feel a bit rusty after not going for a while. You watch as Chris glides around the rink once before making his way back to you. He's so graceful as he skates. It's like there's nothing he can't do. His arms reach out towards you as he comes closer, beckoning you to start moving in his direction.

Both of his hands clasp yours, pulling you into his chest. Despite the temperature, he's warm. He's always so damn warm. You pull your head back to look up at him, his eyes already focused on you. Getting lost in his eyes is so easy. It's like second nature. Your gazes stay locked for what feels like forever before you break the contact first, both visually and physically.

As you shuffle backwards on your skates, you notice Chris drop his arms to his side. You're looking at your feet so you don't notice the disappointment that crosses his face. You turn, slowly skating off, trying to get the hang of it again.

Chris joins you only a second later, giving you a slight nudge. “Wanna race?” He's wearing his signature smile, an eyebrow cocked. This is a bad idea. You know this is a bad idea. That doesn't stop you at all. “You're on!” You're moving forward before you finish the sentence.

“Are you ok?” Uninjured, yes. Mortified, also yes. Chris helps you off of the ice as you nod. You got too confident. He had been closing in on you almost immediately. Then, a child moved into your path. Down on your ass you went. “Need to step off the ice for a minute?” You give him an affirmative, you just need a little bit of a breather.

The two of you step off the ice, not even bothering to take your skates off, you don't plan to be off the ice long. Chris walks you to a bench, making sure you're sat and comfortable before he walks away. He doesn't speak before he leaves, leaving you confused. You watch his back as the distance between you greatens, watching him stop and a tiny stand at the edge of the area.

He comes back with two cups in his hands, handing one to you. “Hot chocolate?” He nods, giving you a big smile, and the butterflies fly away again. “Figured it'd help warm you up, since, y’know, you ate shit and now your ass is cold.” His tone is teasing and a smirk plays on his lips. You give him a playful shove, telling him to shut up and his laughter fills the air. “Gonna need a massage?” His eyebrows wiggle and you almost spit the drink out. Once you finish your drink, he grabs your hand again, leading you back to the ice. The next two hours are filled with laughter and teasing as you skate hand in hand.

You dream of ice skating with Chris. The holiday spirit creeps at the edge of your soul.

It's four days later that you come home to notice things are different. The tree is gone. You have a brief moment of giddiness, immediately feeling bad. You told yourself that you're going to try. It isn't fair to Chris if he goes through all of this trouble for you to refuse to try.

“Chris? Are you home?” You hear shuffling coming from the back half of the apartment. The Adonis of a man comes from his room, gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips, pulling a black muscle shirt over his head. You can see the ridges that adore his chest and stomach. It makes your mouth dry and your panties wet.

“Great, you're home. It's time for the first small activity.” You look around, trying to figure out what he has planned. It takes a bit, but you finally notice the Christmas tree messing put on top, not in, it's box. Your eyes flicking to your best friend, raising an eyebrow in question.

“Yepp. First up, we put the tree up and decorate it together.” You suppress a sigh. This used to be one of your favorite things to do for Christmas, second only to baking cookies. You give him a small smile and a nod and the way his face lights up makes every grievance you have about doing this fly out of the window.

Chris sets the tree up while you sort the decorations and untangle the lights. He had tangled them back up so you could get the “full experience.” Admittedly, that made you the tiniest bit happy. Just that he had thought of everything, even something as small as untangling lights. After he has the tree in its place, he steps away and grabs his phone, turning it to the radio station for the college. You give him a side eye and he laughs. “I may be off today, but I still support my team.” The radio station is Chris’ baby. He’s always loved music, he says it has helped him through his darkest times.

Of course Jisung is playing Christmas music right now, you suspect Chris had something to do with that since it isn’t a normal occurrence this early in the month. Footsteps coming your way clue you in that he has decided to make his way over to where you are. His arms come around you from behind, giving you a soft squeeze. He breathes a soft laugh into your ear as he watches you fight the strand of lights. “Here, let me help.” He rests his chin on your shoulder, his nimble fingers making quick work of the knots. You can’t help but focus on the way his hands move, god you want them inside of you.

The next hour or so is spent making sure every ornament is in the perfect place, not too close together, but not too far apart. The music, which has since switched from Christmas tunes, plays softly in the background. Every now and then, Jisung’s voice cuts through the speaker, usually to make some sort of joke or answer a question that was sent in. You’re distracted with making sure the tree is perfect that you don’t notice the way your roommate stands off to the side, watching you intently, a smile on his face and his eyes twinkling.

The rest of your week drags on. Your thoughts are muddled and all over the place. You’ve been happier than you normally are this time of year, and you know Chris’ plan is working. You can’t tell if it’s because of doing the activities you haven’t done in years, or if it’s because you're doing them with him. You think it may be the latter, though. Friday finally rolls around and after classes and your shift at the campus bookstore, you’re absolutely beat. You trudge through your front door, set on getting a shower and going to bed.

Chris should still be at the radio station, he tends to work later on Fridays. It occurs to you that some self care may be in order, you could definitely use a good orgasm to make you feel better. With your mind made up, you grab your pajamas and your waterproof vibrator, quickly making your way to the bathroom.

The steam from the hot water fills the room and it instantly makes you relax just a little. Your shoulders are loosening up more every second you spend undressing. The stream of water hits your skin and an involuntary sigh escapes your lips. You stand under the falling water for a few moments, letting the warmth seep into your skin. Almost absent mindedly, you reach for your vibrator, clicking it to the lowest setting.You run your free hand down your body, stopping at your breast to fondle and pinch your nipple. You let a soft gasp and you bring the toy to your clit, just barely grazing it, teasing yourself.

The more tension that escapes you, the more you indulge yourself. You replace your vibrator with the shower head, the pressure hitting just the right spot. You slide the toy through your folds, down to your entrance, sliding it into your pussy slowly. The sound you make is louder this time, and you aren’t worried about the noise. It’s just you in the apartment and you need this. You fuck yourself faster, making sure to keep the pressure on your clit as you change the angle of your hand so the tip of the vibrator hits your sweet spot.

Your orgasm is approaching faster than you thought it would, but you’re absolutely fine with it. Clicking the vibration setting up one notch, you throw your head back against the tile of the shower wall. You release a drawn out moan, your hips bucking slightly into the toy, chasing your high. Right as the dam is about to break, you click the setting button to the highest setting. You crash head first into your orgasm. Whimpers and whines fall from your mouth as you ride out your high, biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning out your best friend’s name.

The next day comes earlier than you thought it would, mostly because you’re woken up to a loud voice. “Good morning, pretty girl! Rise and shine.” ‘Choke, you happy bastard.’ You feel bad for your immediate thought, but as you roll over and take a look at your clock, you feel slightly less bad. “Christopher. It is 8am. What the actual fuck?” The only response you get is a smile and the feeling of blankets being ripped off of you. You fix your gaze on him, giving him the harshest death glare you can manage at this time of day, which doesn’t appear to bother him a bit. “Up, woman. We have things to do. If I don’t hear the sink running in 5 minutes, I’m dragging you out of bed myself.” ‘This is going to be a long fucking day.’

Your hands are on the handle of the shopping cart while Chris holds on to the basket. He directs the cart himself, you’re essentially just there for appearances, you guess. He stopped to get you a coffee, a peace offering, which you had accepted. But that doesn’t mean your mood has drastically improved. He looks great, he always does, but today he’s glowing more than usual. ‘Stupid, beautiful, perfect man. How are you this chipper this early? You barely sleep.’

You watch as he grabs drinks and snacks, still having no idea what is going on. He had refused to tell you anything on the drive to the supermarket, didn’t want to”ruin the holiday spirit surprise”, whatever that means. Once he deems there are enough items in the cart, he directs the two of you to the checkout counter. You don’t even bother pulling out your wallet, knowing it wouldn’t do any good. Chris pays, oblivious to the way the cashier is making googly eyes at him.

After loading everything into the car, he opens the door for you, giving you a peck on the forehead. That causes you to duck your head to hide the blush that forms across your cheeks. You watch as he jogs around to the trunk, opening it and digging around for a second before he closes it and makes his way to the driver’s door. He turns to you as he’s buckling his belt, his voice soft. “Take yourself a nap, pretty. We have a bit of a drive ahead of us.” You give him a look, one which he ignores. ‘Where the hell is this crazy man taking me?’ You doze off before you can even think of a possible answer.

“Y/n. Wake up. We’re here.” The gentle swaying of your body coaxes you awake, your eyes automatically squinting to avoid the sun. Chris is already out of the car, already holding your door open. He takes your hand and helps you out of the car, pausing to let you stretch. He silently takes your hand, tugging gently, urging you to follow him. Your nose meets his back as he stops suddenly. You let out a tiny huff, rubbing your nose while he apologizes. “I’m sorry! I just forgot something!” He takes your hands away from your face to inspect you, making sure your nose isn’t bleeding, and presses a soft kiss to the tip. “Can you close your eyes for me? Please?” You do as he says without hesitation. “Good girl.” You shiver.

When you finally come to a stop, you guess that you must be inside somewhere. You can’t feel the sun on your skin, and the temperature has dropped slightly. You hear him shuffling around and as much as you want to see what’s going on, you keep your eyes closed. When he finally comes back to you, he grabs both of your hands and pulls you a little further forward. He drops your hands, and you feel him behind you, wrapping you up in his warmth. “Open.” You slowly lift your eyelids, both confused and in awe by what you see.

You’re in a barn, a blanket thrown across the ground. Pillows lay on the blanket, surrounded by the snacks and drinks you had gotten at the store. Everything is facing a wall, where a large projector screen hangs, the title screen for A Christmas Story paused on the screen. You hate cheesy Christmas movies, even when you liked Christmas. A Christmas Story is different, you could watch it all year round. Tears prick the corner of your eyes. No one has ever gone through such great lengths for you. “Chris…” Your voice breaks off and your best friend pulls you back into his chest and sets his chin on your shoulder. “Come on, let’s lay down. I brought an extra blanket to cover up with. I know how easily you get cold. There’s also more pillows in case the ground gets too hard.” You quickly spin around in his arms, latching your hands around his shoulders in a tight hug. “Thank you.” You feel him place a soft kiss on your hair.

Feeling happy and content, you press play.

“What has you in such a good mood?” You direct your attention to Hyunjin. He’s looking at you like you’re some sort of impostor. “What do you mean? I’m just in a good mood.” He scrunches his face like he’s just smelled something awful. “Y/n, it’s December. Today marks exactly two weeks until Christmas. In the two years I have known you, you have never just been in a good mood for no reason this close to Christmas.”

He’s right. You know that he’s right. You aren’t usually in an outright bad mood, but you certainly aren’t in a good mood for no reason. “Maybe I’m just having a good day.’ Your words come out in a mumble, you know they don’t sound convincing. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain Aussie, would it?” You knew you shouldn’t have told Hyunjin about your feelings for Chris. In your defense, you didn’t tell him. He just seemed to read your mind and then you couldn’t deny it.

“Shut up.” You’re grumbling now, not liking that you’ve been so easily read. You can see the smug grin on Hyunjin’s face. He knows he’s hit the nail on the head and you just want to smack him. “We made a deal. He’s trying to get me over the Christmas hate. I’m not saying it’s working,” It is. “I’ve just been having alot of fun. You watch your friend’s eyes widen before the cocky smile is back on his face. “You guys are so gonna fuck.” That one finally earns him the smack.

It’s Thursday by the time you realize you haven’t had your small adventure this week, and you're surprised how sad you are about it. You’ve been pouting for two days because there has been no holiday fun. That thought alone makes you want to vomit. You definitely did not expect this. You? Wanting to do Christmasy stuff? Yuck.

The bookstore is quiet, which isn’t unusual, but it gives your thoughts too much power. Is it time to let go? You assume it is, but you aren’t sure if you’re fully ready. It sounds dumb, but if you stay angry, you focus on that instead of the hurt. It’s starting to fade, though. Finally. You’ve thought for years that if you just pretended that Christmas didn’t exist, you’d move on. But, you guess you were going about it the wrong way. Maybe you do need to embrace the season.

The bell above the door rings, signaling that someone has entered the store. You face the door, seeing your best friend walking in, stomping the snow off of his shoes. You give him a wave, a bright smile on your face, getting larger the closer he gets to you. “You don’t have much longer, right?” You shake your head, tilting it slightly to the side. He reads you like a book. “It’s time for our second mini adventure.” Your heart feels lighter.

There’s flour everywhere. It’s in your hair, it’s in his hair, it’s on the ceiling. The kitchen is a mess.

As soon as you had gotten home, Chris led you to the kitchen, where an array of cookie cutters were laid out on the counter. You didn’t even try to hide your smile. “Welcome to Bang’s Bakery.” You let out a snort at his customer service voice, his giggle filling the air around you. “We got snowmen, gingerbread men, Santa. You name it, we got it.” You immediately drift toward the metal shaped like a snowman, while Chris grabs the Santa cutter.

The first batch of cookies turned out…not the greatest. You had gotten lost in a dance party, letting them stay in the oven for too long. The second batch was better, but had almost zero flavor. The third batch is where things took a turn.

You had spilled the flour while trying to pour it into a measuring cup, a cloud coming from the plop it made on the counter. Chris let out a howl of laughter as he noticed your face covered in the remnants of the cloud. This just wouldn’t stand. No way. You hadn’t even taken a millisecond to think before reaching into the bag. A puff of flour hit Chris directly in the face. That shut him up. Briefly. He recovered quickly, a sly smile coming to his face. ‘Oh god, what have I done?’

He was on you before you knew it, fighting you for the bag of flour. There was no way you were going down without a full fight. You had snatched your arms back, turning to make a run for it. The flour stuck again. There was a white patch on the floor, which had somehow gotten mixed with some form of liquid. Your feet slid out from under you, causing you to hit the floor. The bag flew into the air, turned upside down and covered both you and Chris.

He slid to the floor beside you, both of you in hysterics. Your sides were hurting from laughing so hard. “Y’ok?” His question came out in between him trying to catch his breath. You couldn’t even answer, too lost in the joy you’re feeling. He goes silent all of a sudden, his hands coming to cup your face to get your attention. You stare at each other, neither of you speaking. His eyes dart between yours and your lips. Just as you both lean in, his phone rings, You jump apart as he gets up to answer. “Bin needs me at the station. I’m gonna shower and head out.” You give him a stiff nod and he turns to walk down the hallway.

The weekend brings rain. Rain brings this weekend’s activity inside. Chris won’t tell you what he had originally planned, all he told you was that he had to make due with what he had. That explained absolutely nothing.

A Christmas movie marathon. That was the backup plan. There was a slight disagreement on whether or not Die Hard is a Christmas movie, ‘it is’, but Chris disagrees. ‘He’s wrong.’ After that minor setback, the marathon is in full swing. The two of you are cuddled up under a blanket and you each have a mug of hot chocolate while Home Alone plays on the screen. Neither of you have brought up what happened after the flour fight, you aren’t even sure how you approach the subject.

You somehow move from cuddling side by side to you laying on his chest. You aren’t complaining, it feels right. It feels like this is where you are supposed to be. Your eyes start to get heavy when Chris starts to play with your hair. Your nose is filled with his cologne and your heart is full of love.

Time seems to both speed up and slow down the closer you get to Christmas. Four days. That’s all you have left. It feels good to not be dreading the day. You feel more light and carefree than you have in years. Chris had texted you earlier today, giving you strict instructions.

Cutie with a booty: lay a sheet down on the living room floor and make sure to wear comfy clothes that aren’t super important to you. No, I won’t tell you what we’re doing. Don't even ask.

So here you were, sitting on the floor in an old shirt from highschool and some ripped sweats you’ve been meaning to throw away, waiting for Chris to get home. Just as you’re about to call and ask where he is, you hear a key enter the lock. Chris comes in with shopping bags full of stuff, though you can’t tell what it is. “I hope you have your crafty cap on!” You look at him like he just spoke gibberish.”My fucking what?” The man snorts so hard that he almost drops the bags.

He sets all of the bags down on the sheet, plopping himself down afterwards. He reaches over, grabbing the bags and dumping the contents onto the sheet. Glue stick, cotton balls, glitter. All kinds of arts and crafts supplies, along with two plain red stockings. “We’re decorating stockings for each other. And no, you can not draw a penis on my stocking.” ‘Damn, He got me.’ You’re immediately hit with what you want to put on his stocking, confident that he’ll love it.

The two of you work in silence, both concentrated on your art. Chris is using a lot of glitter and a lot of black marker and you honestly have no idea what he could be doing. Looking down at your creation, you cringe slightly. You are in no way an artist, but you’re hoping he’ll at least be able to tell what your vision is. You grab your phone, needing a reference picture. Chris looks at you briefly, a disapproving look on his face. “Calm down, I just need a reference picture.” His look changes to confused, but you just wave him off.

An hour later, both stockings are ready and hiding behind your backs. “I'll go first. This is about you enjoying Christmas, after all.” He reaches behind him, the stocking in his hands when they come back to the front of his body. He hands you the fabric and you observe it. Your name is written across the top in purple glitter, a heart on each side. In the center sits two penguins. They're facing each other, holding each other’s flippers. In between them is a pebble. You want to cry. You do cry.

“Chris. It's perfect.” He scoots toward you, his thumb coming to wipe away your tears. “Aww don't cry.” You let him know that it's a cry of happiness as you pull yourself together. It's your turn now and you turn slightly grabbing your gift. You extend your arms, watching him take in what you've made.

LIke him, you’ve written something across the top, but it isn’t his name. ‘RooBoo’ is written in blue glitter, with pink layering over the top. You’ve used the gold glitter to attempt to draw a kangaroo, though it doesn’t really look like one. Same goes for the koala. In between the two animals, the shape of Australia is drawn and shimmering in green and gold. You bite your lip anxiously, waiting for his reaction. Nothing happens. He just stares. You start to worry that he doesn’t understand what it’s supposed to be, or worse, doesn’t like it.

All at once, he surges forward. He buries his face in your neck and wraps his arms around your waist. He just stays like that, not moving, not saying anything. You bring your arms around him, rubbing his back. You can feel moisture on your neck and it’s only then that you notice his soft shudders. “Chris?” You try to pull back to get a look at him, but he tightens his grip so you can’t go anywhere. “You have no idea how much that means to me. Thank you so fucking much.” His voice is barely above a whisper, but you hear him anyway. You place a kiss on his forehead and you two stay that way for a while longer.

Christmas Eve. The last day of your little deal, you’re beyond ready to admit to Chris that he had won during week two, but you want to see what his final surprise is. Knowing him, he’s going all out for this one. He’s out all day, and you’re pacing around waiting for his return. Around 6:30pm, you get a call. It’s short and to the point. “Be ready in an hour, dress cute but warm. I won’t be home until it’s time to pick you up. See you then, pretty girl.” He doesn’t even give you a chance to answer, he just hangs up. How dare he only give you an hour, you have to shower, do your hair, pick an outfit, there’s no way you can do all of that in an hour.

You manage to do it in 50 minutes, which you are very proud of by the way. Your hair is down, nothing fancy, but you know that Chris likes it like this. Your outfit is simple, a red and striped sweater, jeans and a coat. It may not look like the warmest choice, but you know you’ll be warm enough. There’s a knock on the door, which you find odd. Opening the door slowly, a mess of brown curly hair comes into view. Chris stands at your shared door, a bouquet in his hand. His hair is in its natural state, your absolute favorite look on him. He’s absolutely breathtaking. All you can do is stare. “Are you ready to go, sweetheart?” ‘Oh. Oh, that’s a new one.” Your heart beats in triple time, your stomach is a roller coaster. A nod is literally all you can manage. Your brain is telling your feet to move, your feet are not listening.

You finally will yourself to move, with much help from Chris since he took you by your hand after putting the flowers in a vase with water. The elevator ride is tense, but not in a bad way. You want to latch yourself to his side and never leave. And like he tends to do, he somehow reads your mind, pulling you into him and placing a kiss on your forehead, this one lingering a little longer than usual. When the doors open, he doesn’t remove his arm from your shoulder as he takes a step. Through the glass door of the lobby, you can see snow lightly falling. It’s beautiful.

A slight breeze hits your face as you step outside. You swivel your head, looking for Chris’ car. “We’re not driving anywhere, pretty.” You look at him, confusion written on your face, causing him to giggle and tip his head toward the park not far from your apartment building. ‘Oh! A walk in the park!’ You smile at the thought of just walking hand in hand around the park in the snow. Though, you’re just happy to spend Christmas Eve with your best friend. A small pang of hurt rushes through you at the thought that he is still only your best friend. Maybe you’ll finally confess at midnight.

Just outside the entrance to the park, there is a horse drawn sleigh. There are people circling around it, and as much as you want to pet the horse, you don’t want to fight your way through a crowd. Chris seems to have a different idea, though. He pulls you directly to the sleigh, letting go of your hand long enough to tell the driver his name and show the man his ID. He takes your hand again, leading you to the side of the sleigh. “After you.” You stand there gawking at him for a moment, his smile never faltering. He helps you into the sleigh, lifting the blanket that’s placed on the seat so the two of you can slide under it.

The view of the park tonight is unlike anything you have ever seen. There are Christmas lights strung up through the trees. Soft instrumental versions of Christmas songs play through the speakers placed around. There are families playing in the snow, lovers dancing around the lake. The whole park is a magical place. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” His voice draws your attention to him, making eye contact. “Chris, this is amazing. Everything is so beautiful. How did you do this?” His smile widens at your words. “I cheated a little. There was an ad at the radio station. We were supposed to be the first to announce it. I called and booked the first ride before I read the ad.” Your laughter is the loudest sound in the park, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Of course he used the station.

He slings his arm around you when your head lands on his shoulder and brings you closer to him. You’re close to sitting in his lap at this point. “Chris.” “Y/n.” You speak at the same time and you both giggle. You playfully argue over who should go first, and Chris finally takes the spotlight.

“I said that I was spending this month trying to get you to like Christmas again, and I meant that. But that was a minor part of everything I’ve done. I wanted you to know what it’s like to be loved, genuinely loved, on Christmas. I know this time of year is hard for you, and understandably so, but I want you to know that you have someone who is here for you. You have someone who will never leave. You have someone that loves you more than words could ever explain. I love you, Y/n. I just wanted you to feel that love.”

You have no words. You have tears, but no words. You have tears, no words, and your lips on his.

You feel like you're floating. Are your feet on the ground? You don’t know. You can feel your hand in his, but you can’t feel your feet. And you aren’t bothered by it. Because you can feel his lips on yours. You walk through the doorway of your shared apartment, giving each other sweet kisses. It’s only when you’re fully inside with the door closed that the kisses deepen. Chris cups your face with both of his hands, one sliding up to run through your hair. You’re already in bliss. He pulls back slightly, his breath fanning across your lips. “Tell me how you want this to go, baby. We can stop here and have dinner, or we can go to my room.” You have never uttered a sentence out faster. “Your room, please. I think we’ve waited long enough, yeah?”

Before you realize what’s happening, he swoops you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style to his room, pressing his lips to yours the entire way. He doesn’t even bother closing the bedroom door behind himself, immediately moving to place you gently on his bed. You scoot yourself further up, beckoning him closer. He slowly crawls onto the bed to hover over you, his right handing coming back to your face as he leans down to kiss you again. His left hand makes a home on your hip, rubbing slow, soft circles with his thumb. There is no urgency in your shared kisses, only the need to be close and show each other the love that you feel.

You kiss until both of your lips are swollen and red and Chris finally pulls back, just to admire you. “You are beyond beautiful. I love you so much.” His words are quiet, like he’ll break the magic moment if he speaks any louder.

“I realize I haven’t told you how I feel yet.” You take a deep breath, preparing yourself to spill your feelings. “You are the kindest, most genuine person I have ever met. You go out of your way to make sure that everyone you care about is taken care of, even if that means not taking care of yourself.” You pause briefly, giving him a look. “We’ll talk about taking better care of you later.” He giggles as he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “When we met, I had no idea how important you would become to me, and now that I know, I never want to not have you here. And I’m not worried that I’ll have to deal with that. You have given me more hope and love than I ever thought possible and I am so fucking in love with you.”

The kiss you receive in response is softer than the others and you aren’t sure how that is possible. You can feel every ounce of care this man holds for you in the barely there kiss. It makes your head spin. Slowly, his lips travel from yours down to your neck, sucking softly at the skin. You arch into him, gasping at how good it feels just to have his lips on you. His kisses travel lower, stopping at the edge of your sweater. “Can I take this off of you, babygirl?” You clench around nothing at the pet name, and of course Chris notices. He notices everything about you.

You give him a nod and his hands slowly pull the sweater over your head, his eyes locked on yours as he removes it completely. Out of instinct, your hands move to cover yourself, but he grabs them before they make contact with your breasts. “Please don’t hide from me, my love. I want to see all of you. You’re so pretty.” Something churns inside of you at his compliments and you will yourself to keep your arms down. He trails his eyes down your chest, zeroing in on the fabric of your bra. He lifts his eyes back to yours, a silent question swirling in his brown irises. You give him a firm nod, not wanting him to sense any hesitation. You have no hesitation.

You reach around and unclasp your bra, bringing the straps down your shoulder until the garment falls onto your lap. “Fuck.” His voice is strained and you can hear the lust in his tone. But you can also hear the love. His hands rise to your chest, thumbs flicking over your nipples slowly. You let out a soft moan, biting your lip. His touch doesn’t linger for long, moving down to the top of your jeans. “Do you still want to keep going, baby? We don’t have to.” You love how he checks in with you before doing anything, it makes you feel so comfortable, like your comfort is more important than his desire. And you know that that is exactly how he feels.

“Chris, please.” The whine in your voice seems to do something to him because he groans as he begins to unbutton your jeans. While his hands are occupied removing you from the confines of your clothes, his lips press against your stomach. He takes his time with you and even though you’re soaked at this point, you don’t dare try to rush him. You can tell that he wants to worship you, and you intend to let him. His lips touch every new piece of skin that is revealed, not wanting to leave any part of you untouched. He leans back to take in the view of you. Your hair is slightly messy from his hands running through it. Your cheeks are flushed as you lay there in only your panties. You buck your hips up at him once and his hands immediately move to take the ruined fabric off.

Once you’re bare beneath him, you gain a little confidence, spreading your legs so he can see your core. He outright moans at the sight. You can see his cock straining against his jeans, it’s big, that much you can tell. Your hole clenches at the thought of taking him, and again he takes notice. “What dirty thoughts are you thinking to have you clenching like that, babygirl?” The name makes you clench again and he smirks. “Oh? Y’like that do you? Like when I call you babygirl?” You spread your legs further apart as give him a nod, another groan coming from the gorgeous man in front of you.

“Yes, Daddy.” You stiffen. You have no idea where that came from. Never have you called a man daddy in bed, but for some reason, it felt so right that it just slipped out. Chris growls at that and you know you’ve found a weak spot for him. “Look at my pretty baby, all wet for me. Daddy’s gonna take good care of you, babygirl.” He lowers himself to the floor, grabbing at your ankles and slowly pulling your core toward his face. “Still good, baby?” Another nod from you and he presses a kiss to your clit. The contact has you arching into him, your obvious pleasure making his tongue dart out of his mouth to taste you.

You try to keep your moans down as he devours you. You have a hand in his hair, not pulling, simply running your fingers through it. He alternates between circling your clit with his tongue and slipping the muscle inside of you, ending the pattern with a suck to your clit. The pleasure is overwhelming. It’s too much and it’s not enough. Your moans increase slightly in volume, until Chris stops his lovely attack on your pussy.

“Let me hear you, baby. I know you can do better than that. I heard you in the shower, you sounded so fucking beautiful. The best song I’ve ever heard.” You know you should be embarrassed, but you aren’t. His words only cause a new wave of arousal and a loud moan to escape you. “That’s it. There’s my good girl.” Another clench. Chris chooses this moment to slide a finger into you, curving it instantly, looking for the soft spot inside of you. He knows he’s found it when you buck your hips up and groan and he moves his face back down to lick at you more.

The combination of his tongue and fingers turn out to be deadly. You’re rapidly approaching your high. “Chris, please. I’m so close.” He picks up the pace of his fingers, pressing into your sweet spot on every thrust. Your moans flow out of you now, even if you wanted to stop them, you wouldn’t be able to. “There we go. Come on, babygirl. You can do it. Cum for me, cum for Daddy.” Your vision blurs, stars explode from your peripherals. Chris helps you ride out your orgasm before slowly pulling his fingers from you. “Can you open up for me, sweetheart?” Your mouth opens without you having to tell it to, and his fingers find their way onto your tongue. “Suck. See how good you taste.” You obey him without pause, moaning at the taste of yourself on his fingers.

He pulls his fingers from your mouth, moving them down to the button of his jeans, while the other hand reaches towards the nightstand for a condom. You reach out and grab his wrist, shaking your head. “Wanna feel you. All of you.” You can see his eyes glaze over with lust, but he still asks if you’re sure. You nod, you don’t think you’ve ever been so sure of something in your life. He moves with a little more haste as he kicks his pants off. “Holy shit.” You didn’t mean to say the words out loud, but one look at his cock has your mouth watering, but it also has you wondering if it’s going to fit. He has one hand slowly stroking himself, moving closer to your cunt, sliding himself through your folds. “Relax for me, love. All you have to do is relax and let me in.”

He pushes into you slowly, a deep, drawn out groan coming from his throat. A high pitched whine leaves you at the same time, a harmony of pleasure. Once he’s fully sheathed inside of you, he pauses, not moving. “Fuck, baby. You’re so tight. Fit me perfectly. Cunt was made for daddy’s cock, huh?” All you can do is nod and whine, and bring your legs to wrap around his waist. You manage to buck your hips slightly, trying to get him to move. He pulls his hips back slowly, pulling out until only the tip of his cock is resting inside of you. He shoves his cock back into you all at once, not too roughly, but making sure to hit deep.

Your body moves into a deep arch at his thrusts, all hitting the spongy part inside of you perfectly. You’re already working your way to another orgasm. “Feel so good, baby. So glad I get to have you like this. Love you so much.” His thrusts start to speed up and you can tell that he’s holding himself back, wanting you to finish one more time before he lets himself go. “I’m close, sweet girl. Think you can come for me one more time? Come with me this time?” Tears are pricking the edges of your eyes and you quickly nod. “So close. So close, Love you. So close.” Your words come out jumbled, but you think Chris understands. He speeds up a little more, the both of you moaning in time with each other. Chris leans down so his mouth is right next to your ear. “Now, baby. Come now. I love you. You can do it.” You cum with a cry of his name, your pussy clamping down on his cock sends him into his own orgasm, groaning as he fills you.

You’re both panting by the time you come down. Chris slowly pulls out slowly, watching his seed dribble out of your spent hole. His hand twitches like he wants to push it back inside of you, but he doesn’t. He turns and leaves, you can hear the faucet running in the bathroom. He comes back with a warm cloth, carefully cleaning you up and adding a kiss to your forehead. He helps you up, walking with you to the bathroom so you can pee. When you emerge from the bathroom, he’s standing by the door with a bottle of water. He really is perfect.

Once you get back to his room, he gives you a shirt of his to wear to bed. “Need me to go get underwear from your room?” His thoughtfulness makes you smile. “Nah. Don’t need ‘em.” He smirks at that, knowing that you mean that this will lead to morning sex and he’s all for it. He joins you on his bed again, pulling you into his arms. “So, it’s midnight. How are you feeling about Christmas?” You’re silent for a moment, thinking of what you want to say. Pulling back to look at him, you smile.

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year.”

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