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fairytaleendingss · 23 days ago

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Room for One More?

Chapter 8

Summary: You spend Christmas with your family and are joined by an unexpected guest.

CW: Discussion of family trauma (Sirius'; reader has a good family), allusions to sex.

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x fem!reader

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

Hey everyone! Sorry that this chapter is a little late. I was meaning to get it out closer to actual Christmas Day but things just got really busy. I still hope you enjoy nonetheless and that you all had a wonderful Christmas!

Christmas Eve had rolled around quicker than you expected and you suddenly found yourself scrambling to pack for your trip home for the holidays.

James had left the day prior for a vacation with his family and Remus had headed home earlier that morning. The only person left in the apartment was Sirius.

You found him sprawled out on the sofa as you lugged a heafty suitcase of gifts out into the living area. He looked over at you in amusement.

"Need some help with that?"

"Maybe," you responded, already out of breath just from the journey down the hall. "I still have to get it down the stairs yet. I'm not sure I thought this all the way through."

He chuckled deeply.

"Well, let me know when you're leaving and I'm happy to assist."

"Thanks Sirius."

You paused for a moment then, gazing at him thoughtfully. He was wearing a tight-fitting long-sleeved shirt and his hair was tied into a messy bun at the nape of his neck. He was watching some Lifetime Christmas movie absent-mindedly. You noticed that he didn't seem paricularly fesitive.

"So what are your plans for Christmas?" You asked him as you dragged your suitcase towards the door.

He shrugged, eyes still glued to the TV. "I don't have any, really."

You frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I don't really get on with my family anymore and usually I'd spend the holidays with James but as you know, he's in Australia for Christmas this year and I couldn't quite afford the airfair. I thought I'd just spend Christmas here."

Your frown deepened so much that you were sure it'd give you premanent forehead wrinkles. "So what? You're going to spend Christmas alone?"

"I suppose."

You bit the inside of your cheek as you assessed him. You hated the idea of just leaving him alone in the cold apartment during the holidays.

"Okay, get up," you told him after a moment.

He looked at you, perplexed. You just sighed and crossed your arms over your chest.

"You're coming home with me for Christmas."

He raised a brow. "I appreciate the gesture but I don't think-"

You rolled your eyes, cutting him off. "I'm not taking no for an answer. If you think there's any chance I'm just going to leave you here, then you're out of your mind. Now hurry up and grab your things!"

It was a couple of hours drive from the city to your hometown and you couldn't help but take notice of Sirius' nervous fidgeting the whole way there.

The sun was just starting to set when you arrived.

"Y/n! Darling!"

Your mother swung the door open, a giant smile painting her face at the sight of the two of you. She threw her arms out, embracing you in a warm, comforting hug.

"Hi Mum! Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas, sweetheart," she pulled back, glancing up over your shoulder. "And you must be Sirius!"

"Lovely to meet you," the boy greeted, uncharacteristically politely. He stuck his hand out towards her.

"Oh, don't be silly," your Mother exclaimed, bypassing the handshake and delving in for an equally enthusiastic hug. Sirius looked briefly surprised by the gesture, before leaning down and heitantly returning her affections.

"We're so excited to have you," she announced kindly.

"Is that y/n?" a voice called from through the threshold.

"Oh yes! Come in, you two. The family's all inside."

"Darling! So good to see you!" your Dad stated, getting up to embrace you as well. Sirius hung back as you were greeted by enthusiastic family members.

Once you'd said 'hello' to both parents, grandparents and your younger brother, you turned back to look at your roommate.

"Everyone, this is Sirius," you introduced. "He'll be joining us for the next few days."

"Oh my! You're a very handsome young man!" Your grandmother declared. Sirius let out a soft chuckle.

"Thank you. I'm flattered," he responded slickly. "You're quite lovely yourself."

You held back a laugh as your Nana's face flushed red. "Well, aren't you a smooth talker?"

"So are you y/n's boyfriend or something?" Your brother chimed in from where he was leaning against the kitchen counter, assessing Sirius through squinted eyes.

"Oh no, nothing like that," you were quick to assure. "Sirius and I are just friends. He's my roommate actually."

"Right..." your brother responded. He didn't seem convinced.

You were distracted by a sudden loud clap from your mother.

"On that note, why don't I show you to where you'll be staying?"

You and Sirius followed her up the stairs and down the hall.

"This is you."

She swung open the door to reveal your childhood bedroom. It was still adorned with the same brightly coloured wallpaper that you had growing up, and cluttered with long forgotten momentos of your adolescence.

Your eyes widened slightly as they fell on the queen bed postioned in the center of the space.

Being the gentleman he was, Sirius moved to carry your suitcases into the room while you pulled your Mum aside discreetely, looking around to make sure no one could hear you.

"Mum, there's a... uh, slight issue the bedding arrangements."

A look of feigned innocence crossed her face. "Sorry but there wasn't much I could do on such short notice. You're grandparents are staying in the guest room. So unless you think Sirius should take the couch, or share with your brother, he'll have to sleep in here with you."

You sighed thickly. There was a twinkle of mischief glimmering in he eye.

"I see what your doing here," you uttered, an unimpressed look gracing your features.

Your family had spent years trying to set you up with various different suiters during your holiday visits. Their intentions were good but for some reason they just couldn't stand the thought of you being single.

"I'm not doing anything!" your mother responded with mock offense. "It's simply out of convinience, that's all."

You rolled your eyes. "Right. Sure it is."

She shrugged. "But you know, if there was anything going on between the two of you-"

"Mum!" you scolded harshly.

"I'm just saying! He's very cute!"

You glanced back at the doorway behind you and rolled your eyes. However, you couldn't deny the facts. Sirius was a very attractive man.

"Anyway," your mother stated. "I'm going to get a start on dinner. I'll give you two a moment to settle in."

She sent you a glaringly conspicuous wink as she turned and headed back down the stairs.

You huffed loudly and ventured into the room. Sirius looked up as you entered, from where he'd been examining a set of porcelain figurines on the dresser.

"Everything okay? I heard a lot of whisper-shouting," he smirked.

"Yes. Yeah, it's just my Mum. She can be a bit overbearing at times."

"She seems nice," he murmered absently and suddenly you felt a terrible sinking feeling in your gut.

Sirius had been his usual, confident, charming self during the whole ordeal thusfar, but it didn't go unnoticed, the hint of discomfort that he was trying to mask. It dawned on you that he may not be used to such warm, welcoming family envionments.

You cleared your throat awkwardly. "Sorry, about the... um, sleeping situation."

He gave you a gentle smile. "I'm okay if you are- to share, I mean."

You felt your palms grow sweaty. God, his smile was deadly.

"Uh, y-yeah. That's fine."

"Great," he nodded. Then he glanced once more around the room, taking in it's eclectic design choices. "So this is where you grew up, huh?"

"Yes it is. Gorgeous, isn't it?" you remarked sarcastically, gesturing to the pink and blue striped wallpaper.

"So tell me," he teased. "How many boys did you sneak up here over the years?"

"Oh loads. Yeah, I was clearly very popular in highschool."

He barked out a laugh. "Of course. I'm sure all the guys were just lining up to spend some time under these lovely magenta bedsheets."

You chuckled, looking up to meet his eyes. He sent you a handsome grin, a dimple popping out in his left cheek and suddenly you felt a lot more at ease.

Maybe this situation wasn't so bad after all.

You awoke the next morning to the feeling of an arm splayed across your waist. You looked over at the boy beside you. He looked angelic, framed by the golden morning light that was peering through the gap in the curtains.

The previous night had gone extremely well, with Sirius charming your family in various ways over dinner. He'd chatted to your Dad and brother about shared music tastes and listened to your Nana's long-winded stories with unwavering interest. He even made sure to go back for seconds on every course of your mother's Christmas Eve menu. Overall, he'd been a perfect gentlemen.

As you gazed at the man, taking in his boyish, almost delicate features, he began to stir. He blinked up at you, gathering his bearings before a smirk overtook him.

"Merry Christmas sweetheart," he murmered, his voice deep and heavy like the strings of a bass guitar.

"Merry Christmas Sirius."

Your family was gathered in the living room when you made it down stairs, cups of hot chocolate in hand and ready to exchange gifts.

"Took you two long enough!" your father called from his armchair beside the fireplace.

"Yeah!" Your brother echoed. "What were you doing up there anyway?"

You rolled your eyes and slapped him gently on the shoulder as you came over to sit beside him on the floor. Sirius hung back awkwardly, not quite sure where he fit into the family dynamic, something that didn't go unnoticed by you... or your grandma.

"You can have a seat right here, hun." She patted the spot on the sofa beside her.

You couldn't help but chuckle as you watched Sirius follow her direction, squishing in to the tight seat between your grandparents. You raised a brow at him from across the room and he responded with an tight-lipped smile.

"Alright! I think it's time for gifts!" your Dad announced.

It took a while to get through all the boxes piled under the tree. By the end of the ordeal you had precured a mass of items including, several handmade bees wax candles from the shop down the road, a boldly detailed set of teacups, a new sunhat and a lovely pair of earrings from your mother.

Your gaze trailed back to Sirius every once in a while, taking note of the way he curiously watched on to see the reactions of your family as they opened their various gifts. It occured to you that Sirius had likely never experienced a pleasant Christmas morning such as this one before. Something in you felt very glad that you'd dragged him along this year.

"This one's for you, Sirius!" your mother chirrped after most of the presents under the tree had sucessfully been unwrapped. She held out a gift box towards him, over the sea of massacarred Christmas paper that now covered the floor.

Sirius eyes widened. "Really? Oh, you didn't have to get me anything."

Your mother chuckled warmly. "Well we couldn't leave you giftless during all of this, could we?"

Sirius smiled but seemed hesitant in taking the box.

"It's only something little," your mother informed.

Your brows furrowed as you watched Sirius take the gift. You hadn't been made aware that your family had gotten him anything. Especially on such short notice.

Sirius carefully removed the wrapping paper to find a large silver box hidden beneath it. Cautiously, he opened it up and you couldn't contain the snort of laughter that burst from you at the sight.

Sirius let out a throaty chuckle as he held up the ugliest Christmas jumper you'd ever seen. The rest of the room was quick to follow as they assessed the man's gift.

It was a frosty blue colour with a giant, smiling snow-man in the centre. There were snow-flakes of all shapes and sizes surrounding it, adorned cheaply with silver glitter that was bound to shed and get into every nook and cranny of the house.

"Wow. This is uh... well, it's definitely something," Sirius muttered as he analysed the woolen monstrosity.

"You could wear it today!" your grandmother suggested and you let out another chortle at the insinuation.

"Y-yeah. Yeah, I could."

With that, he hesitantly reached up and slipped the piece of fabric over his head. Everyone in the room began to cheer jokingly as he secured the item.

"How do I look?" he asked, throwing his arms out to show off his present. He looked directly over at you.

"Oh, it's super sexy," you teased.

"Knew it," he responded leaning back on the couch. For the first time since he arrived, it seemed that the playful glint in his eyes had returned. You could tell he was finally starting to feel more comfortable. "I reckon there'll be a queue for me outside the door once all the girls in town get a glimpse of me in this thing."

"Well, I think you look very handsome," you grandmother chimed in.

Another eruption of laughter filled the room.

The rest of the day went by smoothly. Your Aunt's family came over for Christmas Lunch and you got the chance to observe Sirius in caught up in an intense nerf gun fight with you younger cousins as you helped set the table.

You couldn't help but smile at the sight and the revelation that the man was surprisingly good with kids.

You spent the day laughing and drinking and unwrapping presents. All the while, Sirius never even thought about taking his new jumper off. In fact, he'd never tell a soul but secretly he found it very comfortable.

The day ended where it began, in the living room. With bellies full of Christmas ham, your family had spent the evening sipping brandy and remeniscing about your childhood in the english countryside.

You'd never felt more embarassed in your life as when your grandfather recounted the tale of you falling head-first into the touching pool at the aquarium you visited on your 6th birthday.

You also noticed the way that Sirius laughed loudly at all the stories, soaking up the energy in the room as if he was trying to freeze the moment in time. You found yourself drawing closer and closer towards him on the couch during the night, gravitiating into the comfort of his contact.

Everyone was pretty tispy by the time 11:00pm rolled around and one by one, began heading off to bed. You, Sirius and your father were the last men standing as the clock approached midnight.

"Well, that's it!" your Dad sighed, glancing down at his watch. "Christmas is over for another year."

"What a shame," you sighed. You were propped up on the sofa beside Sirius who had an arm lazily thrown around your shoulders. Unconciously you found yourself nestling into his side. "I wish it could be Christmas all the time."

"That sounds awfully expensive," Sirius teased and your father chuckled in response.

"Well, I'm off to bed," you Dad announced, getting up from his seat and setting down his mug. "Do you two need anything before I go?"

You shook your head gently. "Nope. We're good I think."

"Well then," he came over to place a kiss on the top of your head. "I'll see you in the morning. Merry Christmas guys."

"Merry Christmas, Dad," you called after him at the same time as Sirius muttered a "Goodnight Sir," in his direction.

And then there were two.

The room was mostly dark, the only light coming from the twinkling Christmas lights that adorned the tree in the corner. Snow was falling steadily outside and the fire crackled in the fireplace on the opposite wall from where you sat. You could feel the alcohol buzzing through your veins.

"Did you have a nice time?" you asked Sirius, scooting away from him slightly to get a better look at his face.

"I had a lovely time. Did you?"

You nodded enthusiastically. "I always have a lovely time on Christmas."

Sirius chuckled. "I can see why."

His eyes darkened a bit and you could tell he was thinking about some distant memory, probably from childhood, that rattled around in the back of his brain.

Maybe it was the alcohol or just the comfortability of being in your childhood home, but you decided that tonight was the night to broach the subject.

"James told me that you don't get along with your family."

Sirius scoffed. "That's putting it lightly."

You frowned. "I'm sorry."

"S'not your fault," he murmered, gazing into the fire. "They're awful, rancid people. The lot of them."

"But you're close with your brother aren't you?"

Sirius sighed. "I am now. Took us a while to get there, though."

"Oh."

You sat back, biting the inside of your cheek as you looked up at him. He looked ethereal in the flickering fire-light. There was a moment of heavy silence between the two of you. One that clouded the room and settled like dust over the furiture.

You didn't want to push him to talk. Not if he wasn't ready. However, after a few long seconds, he began to speak again.

"I ran away at sixteen, you know?"

He turned to look at you, stormy eyes boring down into your own. They were full of so much emotion. All the pain and vulnerablility he was so good at masking was coming to the surface, brought forward on the tides of liquor.

"i just couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't take them. My parents- well, they were always mad at me about something. What classes I was taking, who I dated, who I was friends with. It just seemed at that point, like all they could do was yell at me."

"That sounds awful," you sympathised.

"It was," he continued. "And the worst part of it was how they pitted me and Regulus against each other, made us compete for their love and attention. Regulus and I didn't speak for years after I left."

"Where did you go?"

He huffed, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "James'."

A sort of fuzzy warmth erupted somewhere in your gut.

"That's nice. It's good that you had someone you trusted so much."

"James is my best mate in the world," Sirius explained. "And his family took me in like I was one of their own. If it wasn't for them... well, I don't know what I would've done."

"He's a wonderful person," you responded fondly. "We're very lucky to know him."

"That we are."

There was a pause and then:

"You're a wonderful person as well, you know? I also feel lucky to know you."

You felt an explosion of heat behind your cheeks, and you had to turn away from him quickly to hide your embarassement. Your heart was pounding in your chest and suddenly your throat was as dry as a desert.

"Come on, I think we should go to bed now.”

You stood abruptly from the couch, grabbing his hand in yours and tugging him up with you. The two of you tiptoed up the stairs, doing your best not to disturb any of your sleeping family.

"Wait! Hold on a second."

You stopped in the doorway of your room, coming face to face with the boy in front of you. He was standing very close, eyes alight with an emotion you couldn't quite describe.

He reached out and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. Then he gestured upwards. Following his direction, you looked up to notice a single strand of Mistletoe hanging from the doorframe. You could only guess who put it there.

Then you looked back at Sirius, who had a small smirk painted on his lips. Slowly he began to lean closer towards you.

"We have to do it," he murmered, your lips only centermetres apart. "It's bad luck if we don't."

Then, in an instant, he lunged forwards, pressing his lips to yours. Sparks errupted within you as you kissed him back.

Sirius moved his hands into your hair, lacing them in between thick strands. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into the doorway and pressing him up against the wall.

Suddenly, he was reaching towards the hem of your shirt, fingers dancing over the skin of your hip and sneaking up your side. You let him.

Before you knew it, that stupid Christmas Jumper was decorating the bedroom floor.

You grinned against his lips as Sirius pulled you down onto the bed.

Taglist:

@hisparentsgallerryy @navs-bhat @shushbruv @magicwithaknife @eeviee4 @notapoetjustscar @gugggu6gvai @robertsmithclone @ilovesugurugeto69 @taytayy178 @its-notkiee @bugworldsworld @switchingfandomslikecrazy @evangelquill, @delusional-4-fake-people, @ch4rlotte35, @insideoutjulie, @hiireadstuff

#marauders #james potter #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #sirius black #sirius black x reader #remus lupin #poly!marauders x reader #marauders au

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queenie-ofthe-void · 1 month ago

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A Very Hopper Holidays

Hopper POV || wc: 3.7k || tags: smoking, recreational drugs, grouchy old men dealing with their feelings, smart-ass Eddie Munson, meet-cute Steddie, Steve and Max siblings, El thinks Steve is cute (so does Eddie), emotionally available Wayne Munson gives the best advice, holiday fluff, found family

This is a companion piece to my fic The Babysitter Chronicles, but can be read separately!

Brief background: Wayne patched Steve up after his fight with Billy in s2

Hopper’s freezing his goddamn balls off out here, waiting on the front stoop in the dark, banging his fist on the door. There’s no answer, but the lights are all on and it’s dinnertime on Christmas Eve. So someone’s fucking home, and the sooner they answer the sooner he can leave.

“Dammit, Wayne. Open the door so I can give you a damn present, or next time I pick up your nephew maybe I throw him in jail for the night instead of bringing him home.”

Sure enough, the door flies open, but it’s not Wayne on the other side. The kid’s standing there, layered in enough flannel shirts and sweatpants to dress all of El’s shithead friends with some left over. Hopper watches as he drags the sleeve of an oversized black flannel across his red and dripping nose, shifting uncomfortably and eyes darting side to side.

“Munson,” Hopper crosses his arms, “where the hell’s your uncle?”

Even bundled up like a little kid, he still tries to make himself bigger, taller, meaner, like he always does when Hopper picks him up. “Not here.” The tone is flat, devoid of Munson’s usual snark as a particularly intense gust of wind slams the screen door open against the side of the trailer.

“It’s Christmas eve, what do you mean he’s not here?”

“He’s working.”

Hopper scoffs. “You’re telling me your uncle works Christmas eve?”

Munson scoffs back at him, a dramatic mockery of Hopper’s own tone. “We’re Jewish, asshole.”

Well, shit.

He doesn’t have time for the kid’s hardass act. All he wanted to do was drop off a simple thank you and also merry christmas but now probably happy hanukkah gift and be on his way to his own family. He can only hope El spares him a bit of holiday mercy for making her wait.

“Kid, can I just come in?” He takes another step up, only for Munson to block his path.

His eyes grate across Hopper’s jacket, noting the star on the chest. “No cops in the trailer.”

A low grumble forces its way up Hopper’s throat which breaks into a frustrated groan when another gust of wind scrapes the exposed skin on his cheeks. He stamps his feet on the stairs hoping it’ll keep the blood flow going to his toes as they start to tingle. Munson’s wrapped his hands up inside the sleeves of what’s most likely one of Wayne’s old jackets.

“Look,” Eddie starts, sniffling another drip back inside his nose, “if you could just–”

But Hopper cuts him off with a deranged laugh, head thrown back in dismay at this entire situation. “No, you look here. You’re going to listen to exactly what I have to say.”

Eddie’s taken a step back, and yeah, Hopper supposes he’s never seen the Chief of Police actually freak out before. But it’s been a long day of wellness checks and stove fires, and Eddie’s the only thing standing between him and a night of kid’s Christmas movies and spiked eggnog.

So he pushes forward, spurred on by the kid’s once-in-a-lifetime stunned silence. “Now it’s clear that Wayne’s working nights, probably earning holiday hours to pay for the radiator which is pretty obviously busted, given the ten to twenty shirts you’re wearing. Meaning you’re alone, in a tin box with a tiny space heater that’s so old it’s a fire hazard shoved into the corner of your room.” The Chief walks up the stairs, standing on the step just before the door so he’s towering over Eddie, who shrinks in on himself just a bit.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, Munson.” Hopper ticks off each gloved finger as his list of demands grows, Eddie’s growing wider in time. “You’re going to let me inside so I can piss and blow my nose, since I’ve been standing out here for too fucking long. You’re going to pack a bag, you’re going to call your uncle, and you’re going to tell him you’re staying with me for the night.”

Eddie stammers, mouth flapping around words he can’t find fast enough. It doesn’t matter, because Hopper’s on a roll now.

“Then,” he steamrolls Eddie again, pushing his way into the trailer, closing the door as Eddie stumbles backwards down onto the couch, “you’re going to eat my food, you’re going to watch our movies, you’re going to smile when we smile and laugh when we laugh because even if you’re Jewish you can still have a damn good fucking Christmas eve!”

He’s sick and tired of stupid teenage boys trying to be something they aren’t, like they’re manly or tough or strong for barely surviving on their own, practically raising themselves. And the best way Hopper can drill that into their thick skulls is to get them to shut the fuck up and feed them.

The silence lingers on the frost coating the inside of the windows and the crust of dried snot on Eddie’s sleeve. The kid’s avoiding eye contact, like Hopper will just leave if he’s ignored. But if Hopper can outlast guards in the POW camp, and a little girl who hates green beans, then he can sure as hell outlast Eddie goddamn Munson. So Hopper waits. And waits.

It pays off, like he knew it would. The kid gets up, storms towards one end of the trailer. Hopper slowly follows down the narrow hallway and sees Eddie viciously shoving rumpled clothes into a backpack, mumbling about pigs and asshole cops.

After all’s said and done, they’re pulling up to the cabin about twenty minutes later. The front door opens with a bang in greeting, causing Eddie to jump out of his skin. But when they step through the now open door into the warmth of the living room, there’s no one there to greet them.

Ah, so she’s a little upset.

El’s door is closed, like it’s not supposed to be. Light shines out from underneath, and he can hear soft voices inside. The whispers are abruptly hushed when he knocks on her door. “El, honey, I need you to open the door. Six inches, remember?” Hopper tries turning the handle but it doesn’t budge. Honestly he can’t help but wonder why he bothered to install a door with no lock when she’s got superpowers– that’s on him, he supposes.

He turns around to find Munson standing awkwardly in the middle of the living room. “Take your jacket off, put your shit down, and stay a while, will ya?” Hopper laughs at Eddie’s incredulous expression, eyebrows scrunched together and lips pursed tight.

“Ok,” Eddie drags the sound out in question as he sets his pack next to the couch, “who opened the fucking door?”

“Hey, language!" Hopper calls, Max’s voice echoing his own.

Eddie startles, head whipping between Hopper’s no-doubt exasperated expression and El’s still-closed bedroom door. He drags his hands down his face and sighs as her mimicry sends the girls into a fit of giggles. He hasn’t decided yet if Max is a good influence on El, even if Hopper knows it’s not himself she’s mocking.

He hears the creak of the bathroom door opening as Steve walks back into the living room. Hopper can’t help but turn to watch the show, the two boys coming face to face.

Munson’s oversized black and red flannel covers the ripped sleeves of whatever tattered, black band t-shirt he’s wearing. Which would be on par with what he normally looks like, except it’s contrasted against bright blue, wool pajama pants with little white snowflakes on them. When Hopper first spotted them at the trailer, a teasing smirk on his face, Munson only rolled his eyes and argued they were the warmest clean pair he had.

Harrington, on the other hand, has lived his entire life in locker rooms and an empty house. Which means that he once again forgot to bring a shirt to change into after his shower. It's not normally a problem-- except when El catches him, a blush lighting up her face like a goddamn Christmas tree, accompanied by incessant giggles that make Hopper want to drown himself.

What is a problem is Munson’s shameless gawking, mouth wide enough to catch a whole swarm of flies. His blush puts El's to shame, red blotches burst across his neck like hives. Hopper can practically see the steam rolling out of the guy’s ears, hearts popping out of his eyes as he just stares and stares his fill, completely unaware that Hopper’s still standing less than five feet from him.

Thankfully, so far Steve is none the wiser. He’s got a cotton swab in his ear, head tipped down as he double-knots his Tigersharks swim team sweatpants. Hopper notices they hang baggy and loose around his hips. Another shitty reminder of how much weight the kid’s lost since getting kicked off the team because of his ‘incident’ with Hargrove. He wonders about the last time the kid ate a decent meal, and pushes down the rising anger at the most realistic answer, which is not recent enough for his liking. Hopper has the same gnawing concern when he looks back at Munson, dark circles under his eyes, skinny as a bean-pole.

He’s got to stop taking in strays.

“Harrington, we’ve talked about this.” Hop tries to keep the frustration out of his voice, but if he has to watch El swoon over the kid’s wet hair and bare chest again he’s gonna blow a gasket. “Put a damn shirt on.”

“Oh, yeah sorry, Hop.” Which is the exact moment Steve decides to turn his head. They both catch Munson giving Steve a once over, who then chokes on his own spit when he notices Steve looking back at him. Hopper knows Harrington’s trying to turn over a new leaf, but he also knows the kind of people Richard and Helen Harrington are. So he’s a little surprised when, instead of having to stop a potential hate crime, he notices a similar blush bloom across Steve’s chest– or maybe it’s the heat from the shower.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Muson’s screech is so high it could set dogs howling. Steve flinches at the outburst, and Hopper hopes this little interaction doesn’t trigger another migraine for the kid. He was barely pushing through when Hop picked him up yesterday, but seems to be feeling better today.

“Munson, I need you to tone it down,” Hopper argues. It goes unnoticed.

Steve’s sputtering. He runs a nervous hand through his hair and of-fucking-course Munson gasps, swoons just like El. Harrington’s free hand fumbles for a shirt hem that isn’t there. He realizes he’s half naked and turns into a deer in headlights, hands frantically moving over his chest like he doesn’t know how to hide himself. Unfortunately the unintentional groping sends Munson into a coughing fit.

“Me? What the hell are you doing here, Munson?”

Munson scoffs, crossing his arms as he backs himself into the wall behind him. “The high and mighty Chief of Police here basically kidnapped me. Forced me to pack a bag and tossed me into his truck.” Ah, there’s the Munson he expected. Except if it wasn’t for how many times Hopper’s hauled the kid in, he might not have noticed the nervous energy in Eddie’s twitchy fingers and shifty eyes. “He failed to mention–” he waves around at everything until Munson’s wild gesturing lands on a half-naked, sweats hung low, hair slicked back, barefoot Steve Harrington.

The squeal of El’s door opening behind him propels Hopper full-speed into the living room towards Steve’s duffle. He pulls out the first shirt he manages to find. It hits Steve in the face, and they both breathe a sigh of relief when he pulls it on.

“Aww,” El complains, before her eyes grow ten sizes too big when she catches Hopper glaring back at her.

“Who the hell is this guy?” Max asks. She makes her way toward the kitchen, dragging El with her to help pull out dishes and cups.

“Apparently another kidnapping victim.” Steve huffs, annoyed, before making his way over to the girls. “Munson, get over here and help me set the food out.”

Steve doesn’t even look up from where he’s pulling a large cast iron out of the oven, so he misses the absolutely priceless distress scrawled into Eddie’s bulging eyes and flapping hands. Looking back and forth between Harrington and Hopper, Eddie points to himself in confusion as if Steve hadn’t asked him by name. Hopper can only chuckle at the kid’s antics. He rolls his eyes and tilts his head toward the kitchen so Munson finally gets the jist, moving across the cabin in double-time.

It’s a more intense Christmas dinner than Hopper was hoping for, but after introductions and a full stomach, everyone’s relaxed a bit. El and Max curl up on the couch next to him, snuggled under the same blanket surrounded by bowls of popcorn and half eaten bags of candy. The boys, finally over whatever awkward tension laced between them earlier, are sitting rather comfortably next to each other, poking fun at the cliche holiday movies that Hopper secretly enjoys.

Well after the girls are tucked in and the boys have set up a mess of sleeping bags and blankets on the living room floor, Hopper moves quiet as a mouse across the trailer to Eddie’s duffle. After a quick search, he pulls a joint from a hidden zipper pocket hand-sewn inside the lining.

Kid must think he’s so smart, like he’s the first guy to ever sell drugs.

Hopper deserves a little treat after all the shit he’s been through this year. It’s been ages since he’s smoked, and with the boys here to help watch over the kids, he thinks he can allow himself time to relax for just a little bit. He’s earned it. Plus, it’s not his fault the damned kid decided to try to sneak his stash here. Hop’s not an idiot, even though the boys clearly thought so when they went out for some ‘fresh air’ earlier and came back looking a little less fresh than when they left.

So he brushes the snow off of his favorite lawn chair, wraps himself up in a tattered old blanket, and lights up in the cold, winter air.

Hop loved smoking in high school, so he takes a long inhale, reveling in the burn heating his chest. Unfortunately, Hopper hasn’t been a teenager in a long, long time. His coughing fit is loud enough to wake his non-existent neighbors. But when he can finally breathe fresh air again, there’s no noise to be heard from inside.

He goes slower this time, tugging on little puffs as he watches the snow fall between the pine trees. It’s quiet, a good quiet, filled with the rustling of rabbits in the brush and bugs singing in the night. Even the joint is absolute shit, like most of Munson’s wares. It’s still enough for him to relax, to appreciate what unfortunate circumstances have gifted him, and keep him from dwelling on what he’s lost.

Less than an hour’s passed when a pair of headlights shine down the drive. Wayne steps out of his beat-up truck, in only slightly better condition than Eddie’s van, and makes his way over. Without a word, Hopper gets up and grabs another folding chair propped against the end-railing and sets it next to his own.

The joint’s gone by now, but Hopper pulls out a pack of smokes and offers one to Wayne, who silently takes it with just a slight nod of his head in thanks. Out of the corner of his eye, Hopper notices Wayne’s worn-down work boots have a gash at the front, exposing the hard steel underneath the suede. He’s wearing a large, thick flannel that looks exactly like the one Eddie was wearing when Hopper found him, and it’s just as oversized on the old man.

There’s almost nothing similar between Wayne and his nephew. Wayne’s always been a quiet one. A guy who’d make his way to the back of a crowded room, who kept his head down when he knew what was good for him. And Eddie is– is really just something else. Loud, obnoxious, brash, a kid with a well-crafted personality faker than government coverup. Almost one of a kind, if Hopper didn’t happen to know another boy just like him.

Wayne clears his throat, stubs out the bud with his boot in a little pile of snow. “Got a note from my foreman saying you kidnapped my boy.” His tone is gruff, but Hopper catches the small uptick to the man’s chapped lips.

He doesn’t say anything when Hopper heads inside. It takes him a minute to find the wrapped bottle and two glasses. While he meanders around, he checks that the boys are still both snoring away and the girls are sound asleep amidst a pile of stuffed animals.

When he closes the front door behind him, Jim hands the bottle to Wayne and sets the two glasses into the snow between them. Wayne hums in thought, turning the bottle over in his hand. “Macallen single?”

Jim actually croaks, chest light and filled with laughter when he clocks the mirth in Wayne’s teasing eyes. Maybe him and Eddie aren’t so different after all, both having a shithead sense of humor.

“Just Johnny.” Jim wipes a hand down his face like that’ll hide the sincerity in his smile. “You helped patch up my kid, Wayne. You didn’t save the goddamn world.”

The light in Wayne’s eyes dims only slightly. Instead of unwrapping the bottle, he unscrews the lid off the top, ripping the paper off with it, and pours them both half a glass. They silently cheers, even though the air between them has shifted slightly.

“Thought that boy was a Harrington, not a Hopper.” It should sting, but it doesn’t, because Wayne’s not that type of man. It’s a genuine question, one that Jim’s not sure how to answer. So he keeps silent, hoping Wayne will cave and move on like his kid does when things stay too quiet. But Wayne sits, and sits, and his own gut finally starts to roil. Ah, so that's what it feels like.

“Apparently I’m good at picking up strays.” Jim’s attempt at a joke falls flat between them. He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “Although, I think I got to Harrington a little too late.”

Wayne takes a decent sip from his glass, smacking his lips together. He peers out into the dark, just beyond the porch railing. But Jim can tell he’s not looking at the woods in front of them or the starry sky overhead. Wayne’s looking at something that’s long behind him.

“Ya know, Harrington didn’t look much different than my boy did when he showed up lookin’ like a dropped sack of peaches. Just a little thing he was; no hair, clothes that didn’t fit. Hell, I’d almost been able to see his ribs if it weren't for the bruises.” Wayne’s looking down at his feet now, scuffing the snow off the bottom of his boots. He downs his glass in one go before pouring himself another.

“I beat myself up for too long for not doing something sooner. My own nephew, my own brother, livin’ only two towns over, and I had no idea it was that bad. Told m’self over and over that I should’ve known, should’ve helped sooner.” Wayne heaves a heavy sigh before looking up at Jim again. There’s guilt in the crinkles around his eyes, but it’s quickly replaced with resolve. “You might not’ve always been there for the Harrington kid, but that don’t mean he don’t need you now. Maybe more than ever, by the look of him. And if he’s got you watchin’ out for him, maybe he’ll turn out more Hopper than Harrington afterall.”

Jim can’t take the intense eye contact anymore and firmly looks away, finishing his glass and extending it out to Wayne for a refill. It’s quiet, Wayne’s patience sitting on his shoulders like the world’s most uncomfortable blanket. But even blankets that are scratchy as hell can still be warm.

After a while, the silence releases enough tension that he can sit back again, and the two men slowly sip their whiskey and watch dawn break through the trees. Wayne grabs the bottle as he moves to stand and pats Jim’s shoulder a little too hard. The man’s stronger than he looks.

“Why don’t you bring Eddie back yourself a little bit later, give me a chance to fix that radiator. Plus, being around Harrington might be good for him,” he chuckles to himself, hopping into his truck. “Maybe show the boy not every kid who don’t wear all black ain’t a damn conformist suburban yuppie.” Jim laughs, Wayne’s mockery a spot on impression.

All’s still quiet in the cabin, each kid right where he left them. He’s not sure if it’s the joint, the two whiskeys, Wayne’s advice, or just a combination of everything, but there’s a heat behind his eyes he hasn’t had to deal with in a long time. He’s not typically a crier– happy or sad. The only time he’s cried since Sarah was in the elevator shaft, El collapsed in his arms just after closing the gate. And even then, it was only a few stray tears.

Now he’s unspooling wads of toilet paper to blow his damn nose in, crying like a kid who got coal in their stocking. Except this isn’t like when he thought he’d lost El, or when he’d held Sarah’s hand when she took her last breath. Jim Hopper’s happier than he’s been in a long, long time. And after the shit awful year he’s had– that they’ve all had– he lets himself revel in the joy of having a family again.

Gorgeous graphics provided by @steddiecameraroll-graphics

And as always, thank you to @carolperkinsexgirlfriend for telling me "I think your calling might be writing well-meaning, grumpy old men" and also, "you just understand the spirit of The Old Man", but mostly just thank you for being an amazing beta reader <3

#I loved writing this!!!!! So much fun to channel Grouchy Old Man energy #This is full of excessive holiday fluff #Couldn't wait until the 24th to post this I got WAY to excited to share it #please believe me when I say this can be read separate from the fic itself. don't let that deprive you of Hopper having Feelings #jim hopper #hopper pov #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson #max mayfield #el hopper #steddie #holiday fic #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things s2

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memorabxlia · 1 month ago

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First Christmas ━ 민규

genre: fluff summary: Mingyu’s determined to make his baby’s first Christmas unforgettable warnings: est relationship, mentions parenthood, mentions christmas traditions pairing: nonidol!mingyu x fem!reader wc: 1.8k a/n: FIRST FIC FOR THE EVENT LET’S GOOO!!! I know we’re starting off a little shaky but trust me there are more to come!!! enjoy lovelies!! ♡︎♡︎ nets: @blossomnet @k-labels @k-films

The house is quiet, filled only with the gentle hum of holiday music as you open the box of decorations you and Mingyu bought earlier in the week. It’s your first Christmas as a family of three, and even though your baby is too young to remember, there’s something about this holiday that feels new, magical, and deeply significant. This isn’t just another December 25th—it’s the start of a lifetime of Christmases together.

You glance over at Mingyu, who’s unfolding a tangled string of Christmas lights with the determination of a man on a mission. He’s been excited about decorating since the start of September, brainstorming ideas for the tree, the garland, even the perfect place to hang stockings. You watch, smiling, as he wrangles the lights into submission, his enthusiasm contagious.

“Mingyu, you know the baby isn’t going to remember all of this, right?” you tease, holding up a sparkling ornament shaped like a star.

He looks up with a mischievous grin. “I know, but we will,” he says, glancing over at the baby, lying in a soft blanket on the floor, gazing up at the lights in wide-eyed wonder. “And besides, look at them—they’re already enchanted.”

You can’t help but smile. Your child’s tiny hands reach up toward the glimmering lights, their eyes fixed on the sparkling colors. It’s a small moment, but you feel its weight in your heart. Mingyu settles beside you on the floor, passing you ornaments, and together you marvel at how much has changed in a single year.

“Okay, you win,” you whisper, nudging him playfully. “Let’s make this the best Christmas they’ll never remember.”

He grins, handing you a tiny reindeer ornament. “This one should go up high—so it catches the light, don’t you think?”

Laughing, you find a place on the tree for each ornament he hands you. Every now and then, Mingyu leans down to make silly faces at the baby, who giggles with delight. It’s a simple, perfect scene, one that feels like something out of a holiday movie. The two of you move in an easy rhythm, hanging ornaments and sharing soft laughter as you create a cozy holiday home for your growing family.

When the tree is fully decorated, Mingyu drags a stepladder over to string lights around the room. You watch as he hums to himself, casting quick glances at the baby to see their reaction to each new twinkle of lights. The room fills with a warm glow, transforming the space into something magical, and you realize that these are the memories you’ll treasure forever.

Later that evening, you settle into the couch together, the baby nestled between you, gazing up at the lights with sleepy eyes. Mingyu wraps his arm around your shoulders, and you sit in comfortable silence, watching the twinkling lights as a sense of contentment fills the room.

But even as you sit there, Mingyu’s eyes dart toward the small pile of gifts already collecting in the corner. You can see the gears turning in his mind, his excitement building for the next part of the holiday preparations.

“Mingyu,” you murmur, sensing his thoughts, “don’t tell me you’re already thinking about more gifts.”

He looks at you sheepishly, giving a little shrug. “I just want it to be special,” he whispers, eyes bright with an enthusiasm that you know won’t be easy to contain.

And as you share a smile, you realize this is just the beginning of the adventure he’s about to embark on, driven by the desire to make this Christmas unforgettable.

The next morning, you wake to find Mingyu already up, browsing on his phone with a look of intense concentration. You tiptoe up behind him and peek over his shoulder to see him scrolling through an online store, where dozens of stuffed animals fill the screen, each one cuter than the last.

“Oh no,” you sigh, trying to stifle a laugh. “I thought we agreed that one or two gifts would be enough.”

Mingyu turns to you, his eyes sparkling with childlike enthusiasm. “But look at this one!” He shows you a picture of a plush penguin with a tiny scarf. “Don’t you think they’d love it?”

You raise an eyebrow, barely able to hold back your smile. “Mingyu, they’re not even going to remember this Christmas. How many stuffed animals does a six-month-old really need?”

He gives a soft, playful pout. “They may not remember, but we will. Besides, I want them to have the best holiday possible, even if they’re too little to know it yet.”

You sigh—not because you’re frustrated, but because you understand him completely. This is a first for both of you: not just the baby’s first Christmas, but your first chance to pour all your love and excitement into a holiday that now feels infinitely more meaningful. Mingyu, ever the sentimental one, is fully immersed in making it magical.

“All right,” you concede, folding your arms with a soft smile. “But let’s at least set a limit, or else this room is going to look like a stuffed animal zoo by Christmas Eve.”

He laughs, holding up his hands as if surrendering. “Deal. A ‘reasonable’ number of stuffies. I’ll keep it in check. Maybe.”

But as the days go by, you quickly realize that Mingyu’s idea of “reasonable” might be different than yours. Every time you pass a shop or holiday market, he pauses, eyes catching on every tiny bear, bunny, and penguin plush. Each one seems to call out to him, whispering, “Pick me!” You can’t help but laugh at his determination.

By mid-December, a steadily growing collection of plush animals takes shape in the living room. It starts with a reindeer and a tiny polar bear. Then, one day, you come home to find a delicate penguin perched beside the baby’s crib, and you just shake your head, knowing Mingyu was responsible.

One evening, as you’re tidying up, you catch him slipping a few more toys into a closet, his face guilty but delighted.

“Mingyu,” you say, hands on your hips, “we’re going to need an intervention soon.”

He laughs, closing the closet door with a soft click. “I just…can’t help it. This is our baby’s first Christmas,” he murmurs, his voice soft with wonder. “It feels like every gift is a little piece of love I can leave behind for them.”

You sigh, leaning into his shoulder. “Just promise me we’re stopping after this one last round.”

He smiles down at you with a gleam in his eye, one that suggests he might still have a few surprises up his sleeve.

And as Christmas Eve approaches, you start to suspect that “one last round” might have been a bit too optimistic.

Christmas Eve arrives, filling the house with warmth and holiday magic. The tree glows softly, filling the room with a gentle light, and there’s a quiet excitement in the air—a feeling that something wonderful is about to happen, even though you know your baby is too young to understand.

Mingyu has been particularly animated all day, flitting in and out of rooms, fiddling with last-minute decorations, and casting frequent glances toward the closet where he’s stashed the “reasonable” collection of gifts. You recognize that look: it’s the look of a man who’s done something just slightly mischievous and can barely contain his excitement.

After dinner, with the baby settled in your lap, you finally turn to him, arching an eyebrow. “All right, Mingyu. Are you going to show me what you’ve been hiding, or are we playing Christmas hide-and-seek?”

He grins, looking almost boyish as he rubs the back of his neck. “Promise you won’t be mad?”

“Depends,” you reply, trying to suppress a laugh. “If that closet is as full as I think it is, we might need to have a talk about what ‘reasonable’ really means.”

With a slightly guilty smile, Mingyu stands up and heads to the closet, beckoning you to follow. When he opens the door, you can’t help but gasp. The closet is packed—absolutely packed—with an assortment of plush animals, rattles, soft blankets, and toys in all shapes and sizes. There’s a mountain of bears, penguins, reindeer, and rabbits, all piled together in a chaotic but undeniably adorable heap.

“Mingyu!” you exclaim, trying to sound stern but failing to keep the laughter out of your voice. “How on earth did you manage to buy all of this without me noticing?”

He shrugs, a sheepish smile creeping across his face. “I…may have hidden a few things. But look! Can you imagine how cute they’ll look under the tree tomorrow morning?”

You cover your mouth, laughing at the thought. There’s something undeniably charming about the sight of this plush avalanche, each toy a little piece of his love. Seeing him now—eyes bright with excitement, utterly captivated by the holiday spirit—you can’t bring yourself to be upset. After all, this is Mingyu. He loves with his whole heart, and he always has a special way of showing it.

Together, you arrange the gifts under the tree, making small piles and positioning each plush animal with care. Mingyu takes his time, stepping back occasionally to admire his handiwork like a proud artist. When the baby wakes from a nap, you bring them over to show them the magical sight. They stare wide-eyed at the colors and shapes, their tiny fingers reaching out to touch a soft reindeer that Mingyu holds up. Their laughter fills the room, and Mingyu’s face lights up as if he’s witnessing pure magic.

“See?” he whispers. “They love it already.”

You watch him, warmth filling your chest. This isn’t just about the gifts; it’s about creating a home full of joy and love, where your child can grow up surrounded by warmth and care.

The next morning dawns softly, golden light streaming through the windows. You wake to the smell of coffee and the sight of Mingyu in the living room, arranging the presents with care. When the baby wakes, the three of you gather around the tree, sharing the wonder of Christmas morning.

One by one, you unwrap each gift. The baby giggles at the crinkling sound of wrapping paper, reaching out to touch each plush animal Mingyu hands them. Each gift is a reflection of his thoughtfulness and love, and the warmth of the morning fills you both with a quiet joy that words can’t describe.

Finally, you sit among the sea of toys, savoring the stillness. Mingyu reaches for your hand, a soft smile on his face.

“This,” he says quietly, “is the best Christmas gift I could ever ask for.”

You smile back, squeezing his hand. “And next year, there will be even more moments like this.”

As the day winds down, you and Mingyu sit together, wrapped in a blanket, talking about the future and dreaming of all the Christmases still to come.

Outside, snow begins to fall again, blanketing the world in quiet softness. And as the clock ticks closer to midnight, you close your eyes, content in the knowledge that this is only the beginning.

❥﹒ seventeen taglist: @amarecerasus

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kumkaniudaku · 1 month ago

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From Terrence, With Love

Summary: Terry goes out of his way for Patrice's Christmas gift.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: None.

Previous: TBT

MASTERLIST

"What about this one?"

Terry paused his web search through pages of office accessories to look up at his mother-in-law as she pushed a stroller toward his spot in a winding line. Rosalyn held out her phone for him to examine what she thought was a perfect armchair selection, hoping that her seemingly endless pursuit could finally reach a conclusion.

He scanned the olive green item with a careful eye before ultimately shaking his head. "I like it, but she's into oranges and yellows for her creative spaces. That's too muted."

"Oh Lord, Terry. I love how dedicated you are to this, but I'll be doggone if this ain't takin' years off my life. You trynna get rid of me?"

"No, ma'am," he chuckled as he stepped forward to make space for her beside him. "I just want it to be perfect. She's been wanting a little spot just for her, and I want her to love it, you know?"

"That's very thoughtful. It's driving me and my baby crazy, but thoughtful nonetheless. Ain't that right, Nyla Bee?"

Raspy giggles and loud shrieks from the 16-month-old sitting in her reserved seat made both adults smile. A combination of watered-down juice and cinnamon roll crumbs coated her cherub cheeks in a way that would make her mother shake with frustration if she were present. Though her grandmothers found the sight adorable, Terry knew the consequences coming if Patrice ever found out how much junk he'd allowed Nyla to consume in only a few short hours.

Terry lifted Nyla from her seat and used a large hand to dust off her face to the best of his ability before peppering her cheek with soft kisses. She leaned into her daddy's affection, using all her might to hug his head.

He laughed before giving her a final kiss with a loud 'mwuah' to boot. "We gotta get you a nap before we get home, little one." He turned to Rosalyn. "Treece call while y'all were away?"

"You know she did, but don't worry, we didn't give you up. Dee got her off the phone by asking if she had a minute to talk about the church bake sale."

"Mama doesn't go to church."

"Exactly."

Terry laughed. "Telling a fib here and there is her hidden superpower. "Where is she anyway?"

"She stopped into that little children's boutique downstairs when she saw they had a sale going on."

"Another one of her superpowers. There's not a discount on this Earth that she won't find."

"A woman that speaks my language!"

A swell of chatter at the front of the line pulled Rosalyn and Terry's attention away from their conversation to crane their necks for answers. After nearly an hour of waiting, the guest of honor had arrived.

Her long, greying sister locs swung in a low ponytail against her multicolored caftan as she waved enthusiastically at the crowd of fans eager to have a 90-second conversation with her. Terry couldn't say he was familiar with Sarraya Wylie's work, but he slept next to her biggest fan every night. Each of her novels had a place on Patrice's bookshelf, all with worn pages that had seen numerous turns in their lifetime. From stories of hidden Black civilizations in distant lands to essays about the importance of Afro-Futurism in literature, she'd been a staple in his wife's love of science fiction.

So, when he heard from an online community group that she'd been in town causing traffic near the mall as part of her most recent book tour, Terry jumped at the opportunity to schedule time away and spend any money necessary to have her write a personal message to love of his life as part of an elaborate Christmas gift.

He schemed and planned, telling little lies about his whereabouts for the afternoon and roping others into his tales. Her mother and his mother agreed to tag along as alibis and babysitters in one while he sent Patrice on her way to enjoy brunch and a movie with her girls. He figured if all else failed and his plan fell through, at least she'd be tipsy and full when he got home.

Rosalyn hummed in approval of Sarraya. "Never thought I'd see her in person after all the money I've spent on her. Pretty lady."

"And that dress is fabulous. I think I could make one at home if I get close enough to see the pattern."

Diedra admired the author's outfit from afar as she approached the others with her phone in the air to snap a picture.

Terry rolled his eyes and gently pushed her wrists to lower the device. "Ma, that's weird. You can't take pictures of strangers."

"Terrence, I am grown," she advised, cutting her eyes toward him. "Plus, I can't see the damn thing from here anyway."

"Language in front of the baby, Mama."

Noticing her mistake, DeeDee mouthed a sorry at her son before poking at Nyla's belly.

"Maman's sorry for saying bad words that you don't understand, Pumpkin. Don't repeat any of this at home. Wait until you're at least 16."

"Or never. Maman's gonna get you in trouble with your mommy," Terrence corrected, his voice inflections changing into silly baby talk.

Though generally playful and kind with her baby girl, Patrice was strict about what influenced Nylah's development. If anything penetrated the wall of carefully selected baby books and enrichment activities, there would be hell to pay, and Terry wasn't interested in footing the bill.

DeeDee kissed her teeth while Rosalyn chuckled in the background. "You hear that, Ros? They start getting a little older and want to tell you what to do. Crazy, ain't it?"

"He acts just like Patrice. My mama ain't been gone but a few months, and the Lord already sent me another one."

"We just care about y'all. You rather we leave you out in the cold?"

"I'm just sayin' that you only just started raisin' babies," DeeDee answered as she stuffed a clothing bag into the stroller's undercarriage. "I raised you plus two more. I'll be alright."

"Tell him again."

"I will be alright. But I'll always love you, my sweet boy."

His mother's way of cleaning up verbal messes with sweet words made Terry grin and shake his head. A few hours with the two women responsible for his current life had taught him two things: he and Patrice hadn't been able to hide a single thing from them, and if Nyla inherited even a fraction of their personalities, he was in for a treat come her pre-teen years.

As they stood in a line that moved at a snail's pace, Diedra and Rosalyn detailed all the times they'd noticed the beginning of love between their children and had spirited discussions about who would pay for the eventual wedding and contingency plans should an accident arise. Terry listened with a mixture of shock and amusement, laughing at each new revelation and Nyla's need to feel included with her mix of real words and toddler babble.

"So you knew about the whole graduation thing," Terry asked his mother as they inched forward.

"We had an idea because both of you wear your emotions all over your face," DeeDee laughed. "You couldn't let go of her. She couldn't stop smiling at you. I was prepared to physically separate y'all."

"Then here Dee comes callin' me and Leon talkin' about a baby fund and makin' you propose. It was a whole thing," Rosalyn laughed.

Terry shook his head and adjusted Nyla in his arms, getting a good look at her furrowed brow as she toyed with the buttons on her father's jacket. Perseverant and singularly focused like her mother.

"Nah, you didn't have to worry about that. Treece had already told me she wasn't saying yes to any proposal and wasn't having a single one of my kids before she graduated. You know how she is."

"Mhmm. Good for her. Miles better than the other options you had rollin' through my kitchen every other year."

Rosalyn's eyebrows rose in amusement. "Oh yeah? I gotta hear this."

"Mom!"

"What?" Diedra playfully elbowed Rosalyn, knowing full well that she was annoying her oldest child. She persisted with a sneaky smile. "I'm just saying I've never seen so many beautiful yet…simple young ladies in my life. What was the last one's name? Monique? Gorgeous girl. Empty head."

Simple was the tip of the iceberg. A desire to escape the pain of losing Patrice and the folly of youth sent Terry down a winding road of pretty and vapid women. Every few months, he'd try to replicate the exciting bond he shared with his first love, only to find that she was, indeed, one of a kind. And no matter how he'd try to coach Alexandria, Constance, or Monet into the mold that Patrice had left behind, they never quite fit the bill. There were plenty of Donners and Blitzens. There was only one Rudolph.

"Monique was not her name, but none of that matters. My baby is a scholar, and that's my favorite thing about her. That's why I'm standing in line with all these strange kids now."

Diedra and Rosalyn let Terry's comment pass without a response as they shuffled forward in line. For close to an hour, fanboys and girls alike filed up to the small black table to participate in the same sequence of events: quick hello, incoherent personal story, photo, repeat.

Terry watched each interaction as he split his attention between his ladies and the action around them. He noticed every chat forcibly cut short by nearby security and every time Sarraya subtly rolled her eyes at an overzealous reader telling her about the "hidden" themes in work she poured over alone. He saw her begin to get agitated at the hour mark and ask for a break that was never granted. As time crept by and his accomplices took off in search of rest for weary feet and more interesting surroundings, he wondered how much longer he could entertain a toddler inside a bland bookstore.

Against his better judgment, he gave in to the device demon and handed over his cell phone for animated Christmas videos to stretch the last bits of peace Nyla would allow.

"Mommy!" Her voice penetrated Terry's thoughts as he rubbed his aching temples.

He sighed before answering. "Not yet, baby. We should be home soon. I don't know why I'm sayin' that to you. It's not true, and you don't know what soon means."

Nyla remained undeterred, continuing to chant for her mother until Terry opened his eyes to get a good look at what was causing the disturbance. In her hand, Patrice's smiling face took up his phone's entire screen as an incoming call caused the device to buzz against the drink tray attached to her stroller. He rushed to answer, hoping that she couldn't hear the commotion in the immediate area.

"Hey, TJ," Patrice greeted, the words becoming muffled in the background noise pumping through her receiver. "You busy?"

Her soft and small voice was a welcomed relief from the chaos and a clear sign of what she'd been up to in her afternoon absence. Terry smiled and matched her energy.

"Never too busy for you, baby. Everything okay?"

"Yeah. I just called to say I miss you and I love you. Do you still love me even though I'm gone?"

"Of course, baby. I love you all the time. Mean it," He answered, trying to bite back his smile and remain sincere. "Treece, you been drinkin'? Be honest with me."

A long pause and a sniffle preceded her answer. "A little."

A lot.

On too many occasions, Terry found himself on the other end of a slurred phone call with Patrice, trying to decipher what was driving her into tearful confessions about nothing or full-on lyric screaming with her two friends as hype women. Today, she was fighting an emotional rollercoaster and the desire to sob in a restaurant bathroom.

"Oh, don't cry, baby. You're too pretty to cry off all the makeup you worked so hard on."

"Okay," Patrice answered, the pout still evident in her tone. "Why are you at the mall?"

The sugar-sweet moment quickly took a wrong turn into blinding anxiety as Terry searched his brain for an answer. For all his careful preparation, turning off his location had seeped through the cracks. A lie would suffice. She was tipsy enough to believe him. But he hated lying to Patrice, especially after all the lying he'd done to shake free for the afternoon. He scrambled for an answer.

"Uh, I stopped by to grab some lunch. Had to get away from the boys because I didn't wanna get hungry and mean."

Patrice squealed at his mention of being near the food court, completely ignoring Terry's tale's shakiness in search of her own wish fulfillment.

"Ohmygosh! Babe, can you get a picture of Sarraya if you walk by the bookstore? I heard she was there and I really need to see her. Please, please, please."

Terry chuckled at her excitement running head-on into his surprise and fought every urge to spill the beans. "I'll do what I can, okay? You be safe for me. Tell Vicky and Phee to bring you back home in one piece, or we gon' have a problem."

"Boy, ain't nobody worried about you!"

"At all. You just big."

"Don't be worried about me. Be worried about my wife," He answered with a laugh just as an announcement from the front of the line caught his attention.

The sudden screech of a microphone startled Nyla into a short scream that snuck past the safety measures Terry had put in place. Patrice threw herself into a tizzy at the sound.

"Is that a baby? Have you talked to Ny? Do I need to check on her again?"

Patrice's inebriated panicking forced Terry back into stress-induced sweating and an uncharacteristic stutter. "She - she's okay. I gotta go, baby. I'll call you back. Love you."

Terry was sure he'd pay for hanging up so abruptly, but desperate times and a scared toddler required quick thinking. He rushed to lift Nyla from her seat and soothe her discomfort while craning his neck to hear the tail end of the announcement.

"Sorry for the inconvenience, everyone. She should be back in about an hour. Someone is coming through the line to hand out numbers. We'll honor them when things resume. Thanks for your patience."

"An hour," Terry questioned as a young woman with red tickets approached. "Yo, I don't have an hour. We've already been here for a long time. What can I do?"

She shrugged and tore a piece from her roll. "Nothing really, dude. She said she needed a break, and I just work here during the holidays. You want this or not?"

The frustration boiling inside every cavity of his chest threatened to send Terry into a tailspin. He forced back his misguided desire to escalate the situation and pulled the scrap of paper from the young woman's hands with a huff.

A look at solemn faces filing out of line gave him some hope that things might move faster when the time came while he considered his options. His fingers typed away at his phone screen, searching for the right mix of sob story and bribery to convince his conspirators to take Nyla and afford him another 60 grueling minutes of waiting, completely unaware of the tired woman and small entourage passing him by on the way to the back of the store.

"Bye-bye!" Nyla's farewell was enough to grab her father's attention, but it resonated over the mixture of sounds in the immediate area to make Sarraya stop in her tracks and search for the source. Nyla made her presence known with her newest waving skill and a smile featuring only a few teeth.

Sarraya waved back with equal enthusiasm. "No, this is hello, beautiful. Are you not the cutest little thing in the world?"

With renewed energy, the author pushed her way past the large men flanking her to meet the only person who had excited her all day. Her approach and Nyla's enthusiastic wiggling finally earned Terry's attention just as Sarraya was close enough to speak.

"What's her name?" she asked with a thick Philadelphia accent, her knees bent to get eye-level with Nyla.

Terry smiled. "This is Nyla Naomi. Say hi, baby."

Nyla didn't need the prompting. Ever the people person, she greeted and babbled for all to see, garnering a heartfelt chorus of 'oohs' and 'ahhs.' Sarraya seemed to melt at the excited greeting as she spoke back to Nyla as if she were old enough to carry a conversation.

"And what brings you here to see me? Can you read already? I can tell you're so smart!"

"She does love your books during storytime with her mama. We like to mix up the baby books with some more complex stuff every once in a while. Between Two Worlds is her favorite. The one where Malachi and Toriah try to communicate between Earth and the New World, right?"

Maybe Terry had been listening to Patrice read more than he thought. His recollection of her third book's plot made Sarraya look up at him with a smile.

"Wow, a house full of fans. That's a first for me."

"All thanks to my wife," he chuckled as Nyla attempted to play peekaboo with her new friend. "She has your whole collection. Been a fan since our senior year of high school and now she's passing it down."

Sarraya beamed at the information. "That is incredible. I'm glad to have you here today. May I?"

Terry happily granted her request to hold Nyla, carefully transferring her between adults until she was comfortably in Sarraya's arms. When she was safe, Nyla gingerly laid her head on Sarraya's shoulder and popped her thumb into her mouth to self-soothe. Sarraya instantly hugged her tighter and pretended to cry.

"This is the best thing to happen to me in weeks. She makes me miss when my babies were little."

"It's an amazing experience, right? She's our first."

"You all are incredibly blessed." She smiled down at Nyla before dancing her fingers across her small belly to induce giggles. "I'd love to say hi to mom. It's the least I could do for all this trouble."

"Are you sure? I don't wanna hold you up from your break."

"Oh, nonsense. Y'all are the first folks I've met all day who look like me and haven't tried to tell me what I meant with my words. Please, allow me to say thank you."

Fifteen minutes of photos, videos, and a heartfelt message neatly written in script inside the book's front cover quickly became the most extravagant 'thank you' Terry had ever received. One day, when she was old enough, he'd tell Nyla about how her mere existence secured a gift for her mother. For now, she'd have to live with a forbidden taste of tart frozen yogurt from Terry, a flurry of kisses on her sticky face, and another talking stuffed animal for her services.

By Christmas morning weeks later, Nyla was less interested in meeting a renowned artist and more concerned with the shrill music emanating from the brand new mini grand piano her Aunt Zorah had purchased.

Heaps upon heaps of toys, clothes, and the like covered their living room floor to celebrate her first real Christmas and the family's first opportunity to see the day through the eyes of a small child. Junior sat on the floor beside her, comically rapping the ABCs into a small mic while Nyla plunked away at the keys to back him up. Both sets of grandparents searched for the perfect recording angle to grab sentimental momentos to show friends and coworkers in the new year. Her aunts and Imani happily put together outfits and folded clothes to help with the clean-up process.

Terry and Patrice worked together in the kitchen to prepare for Christmas breakfast as they watched controlled chaos unfold in the next room. Terry tore his eyes away from the family to glance at Patrice, who leaned against the counter in a pajama set that matched his and Nyla's. She smiled at nothing in particular.

He slowly wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her in for a kiss on the temple. "Sneak away with me right quick. I wanna show you something."

An excited squeeze to her sides made Patrice turn in Terry's arms to get a better look at his smiling face. "I thought we were waiting until tonight for gifts together."

"I'm callin' an audible."

"You act like I know what that means."

"C'mon, girl," he chuckled, lacing their fingers together to lead them out of the kitchen. "It'll be quick. Promise."

With all eyes on the superstar of the family, Patrice and Terry snuck past the commotion and down the hallway to their second spare bedroom. Terry's gentle instruction to close and cover her eyes was surprisingly met with no pushback and an excited wiggle from Patrice. No amount of carefully planned theatrics could hide the fact that she'd snooped long and hard to discover a secret Terry wasn't trying to hide. He was always a few steps ahead of his exceptionally nosey lover.

Patrice allowed Terry to gently push her into the room while she danced on her tiptoes. She listened for the soft click of the door closing and Terry's deep voice relaying directions.

"You peekin'," He asked, a smile evident in his voice as he tapped her backside on his way to the other side of the room.

"No, but I'm about to. Hurry!"

Terry gripped her from behind and rested his chin on her shoulder. "Let me give you my speech first. Act like we've been doin' this for a while." He listened to Patrice groan in impatient agony while he chuckled in her ear, purposefully drawing out the moment to get her back for sneaking behind his back. "I have always loved how much you love words and books. That's where we met. That's where I've seen you the happiest. And now, this is where I hope you'll wanna take your breaks and share the gift of reading with our little girl. Go ahead and look at your library, baby."

Patrice voiced her excitement through a quiet squeal just as she lowered her hand to get a look at her new surroundings. Three floor-to-ceiling bookcases teaming with her favorite souvenirs and enough room to add more pressed against walls covered in beautiful wallpaper made the room look like a photo from Architectural Digest. She could tell where her mother-in-law had spent time arranging the pillows and blanket in her new reading chair and that some combination of her mother and Terry had chosen the perfect orange tone as a nod to her favorite color.

A gallery wall above the guest day bed featured the faces of all her favorite people, with her husband and daughter from Nyla's first birthday party beaming in the center. A new record player and all her favorite records rested on a small console table fashioned into a bar to satisfy her craving for a secret cocktail or two on the weekends. She regarded it all with childlike wonder, bouncing from section to section as Terry watched from her armchair with a proud smile.

"This is amazing, baby. Thank you so much," she finally complimented while bracing herself on his shoulders to settle in his lap. Terry's warm hand took a slow journey up the side of her thigh to rest on her backside with a gentle grip as she spoke against his mouth. "I promise to let you in here at least twice a week. Three times if you ask nice."

"Mm, you just like to see me beg."

"No, baby, I love to see you beg. I hope I got that for Christmas, too."

Slow kisses, equally sweet and sensual, preceded another trickle of information. Terry pulled away first to speak. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"You know you can," she answered between small pecks to the corner of his mouth while she cradled his head, unwilling to part with his affection.

"This isn't the real gift." Patrice paused her worship to give Terry's wide grin a skeptical eyebrow raise. "I got you something else."

He watched the slow shift from confusion to joy as he dramatically lifted the carefully hidden collector's edition hardcover book from beneath their shared seat.

"Honey," she cooed, her jaw dropping to make room for a loud gasp while she examined the front cover. "You got it! Did I tell you how much I wanted her new book or was this a guess?"

"You might've said something over the phone once, but we don't have to rehash that. Take a look at the inside."

Eager fingers pried open fresh pages and an untouched book spine, introducing her to a handwritten message in beautiful cursive that she read aloud.

"Patrice - thank you for keeping the transformative power of literature alive with the next generation. I'm sorry we didn't get the chance to meet, but Nyla told me so much about you. Until next time, I pray The Creator becomes a new staple in your library. From Sarraya, Nyla, and Terrence with love."

"I'll save the video for tonight so we can cry together," Terry spoke before kissing Patrice's cheek. "She loved Ny. I think they have a coffee date scheduled for next week. I don't know if we're invited."

Patrice laughed while flipping through the pages. "I'm gonna crash it, I don't care. They'll understand."

Terry chuckled and squeezed tighter.

"Everything to your liking? I wanna make sure you're happy."

His usual search for praise and approval came with puppy-dog eyes that scanned Patrice's face for any sign of discontent. He found none - only the beginnings of a tearful smile conveying more than words ever could.

"You make me happy, Pooh. Sometimes, I don't do a worthwhile job of letting you know how much I appreciate you. Not for what you do, but for just being Terrence."

"You do. And I love you the same. Always," he answered. His hold on her waist kept Patrice steady long enough for a short, tender kiss before her jittering in his lap was too much to tame. He used his thumb to swipe the bottom of her lip clean and smiled. "I know you can't wait to show Imani. Go ahead. Make sure you brag on me a little. It feels good."

"Oh my God, finally! Moanie, girl, Sarraya, and I are besties! Look what my man got me!"

While Patrice rushed to talk a mile a minute about her favorite gift to date, Terry carefully reset the pillows in her chair to return her sanctuary to mint condition. He took a long look around the room, smiling at the work he'd accomplished until he stopped short at the door for a final once-over.

His fingers flipped the switch as he mumbled an affirmation to himself. "Yeah, that's definitely enough for three visits a week. I don't know what the hell she talkin' about."

-------

Comment if you'd like to be tagged!

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @onherereading @becauseimswagman1 @thiccc-c @hrlzy @urfavblackbimbo @blackburnbook @ashanti-notthesinger @xo-goldengirl @ariiijestertheklown @blyffe @tvchi @wabi-sabi1090 @blackmoonchilee @flydotty @aldrigmer444 @ash-ketchumzzz

#aaron pierre #terry richmond #terry richmond x oc #rebel ridge #ficmas

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hotvintagepoll · 9 months ago

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Propaganda

Vyjayanthimala (Madhumati, Amrapali, Sangam, Devdas)—Strong contender for /the/ OG queen of Indian cinema for over 2 straight decades. Her Filmfare Lifetime Achievement Award came not a moment too soon with 62 movies under her belt. Singer, dancer, actor, and also has the most expressive set of eyes known to man

Audrey Hepburn (My Fair Lady, Sabrina, Roman Holiday)—Growing up, Audrey Hepburn desperately wanting to be a professional ballerina, but she was starved during WWII and couldn't pursue her dream due to the effects of malnourishment. After she was cast in Roman Holiday, she skyrocketed to fame, and appeared in classics like My Fair Lady and Breakfast at Tiffany's. She's gorgeous, and mixes humor and class in all of her performances. After the majority of her acting career came to close, she became a UNICEF ambassador.

This is round 6 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Vyjayanthimala:

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Audrey Hepburn:

"She may be a wispy, thin little thing, but when you see that girl, you know you're really in the presence of something. In that league there's only ever been Garbo, and the other Hepburn, and maybe Bergman. It's a rare quality, but boy, do you know when you've found it." - Billy Wilder

Raised money for the resistance in nazi occupied Hungary. Became a humanitarian after retiring. Two very sexy things to do!

where to begin......... i wont her so bad. i literally dont know what to say.

My dude. The big doe eyes, the cheekbones, the voice. The flawless way she carried herself. She was never in a movie where she wasn't drop dead gorgeous. Oh, also the fact she raised funds against the Nazis doing BALLET and she won the Presidential Medal of Freedom for her humanitarian work.

"It’s as if she dropped out of the sky into the ’50s, half wood-nymph, half princess, and then disappeared in her golden coach, wearing her glass slippers and leaving no footprints." - Molly Haskell

"All I want for Christmas is to make another movie with Audrey Hepburn." - Cary Grant

I know people nowadays are probably sick of seeing her with all the beauty and fashion merch around that depicts her and/or Marilyn Monroe but she is considered a classic Hollywood beauty for a reason. Ironically in her day she was more of the alternative beauty when compared to many of her contemporaries. She always came off with such elegance and grace, and she was so charming. Apparently she was a delight to work with considering how many of her co-stars had wonderful things to say about her. Outside of her beauty and acting ability she was immensely kind. She helped raise funds for the Dutch resistance during WWII by putting on underground dance performances as well as volunteering at hospitals and other small things to help the resistance. During her Hollywood career and later years she worked with UNICEF a lot. Just an all around beautiful person both inside and out.

youtube

No one could wear clothes in this era like she could. She was every major designer's favorite star and as such her films are time capsules of high fashion at the time. But beyond that, she had such an elegance in her screen presence that belied a broad range of ability. From a naive princess, to a confused widow, to a loving and mischievous daughter, she could play it all.

Look at that woman's neck. Don't you want to bite it?

#audrey hepburn #vyjayanthimala #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 6 #Youtube

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russo-woso · 1 month ago

Note

For a Christmas type of fic could u do kcc x reader where they have their first kiss on Christmas/Christmas Eve

First kisses || Kyra Cooney-Cross x reader

A/N Just a small fluffy one 🫶🏻

Summary You and Kyra share your first kiss on Christmas Eve

When Kyra had originally asked you on a date, you hadn’t expected her to say Christmas Eve.

You’d gone on a few dates now. They started off as friendly dates, just as friends.

But then the lingering touches started, her hand resting on yours on the table, Your legs brushing under neath.

You figured that the date on Christmas Eve was going to be similar to the ones you’d had before, dinner and maybe a movie at the cinema.

But when Kyra messaged you the day before, telling you to wear your big coat and fluffy socks, you somehow knew it wasn’t going to be inside.

After hours of debating what to wear, you finally decided, laying it out, ready for your date.

The day finally came, not only was it Christmas Eve but it was the day of your surprise date.

You were still puzzled on what Kyra had planned.

“Ky, where are we going? Please tell me.” You begged, looking at Kyra as she grinned.

You were on the way there, no satnav on or anything, Kyra clearly knowing the way or having memorised it.

“There’s no way I’m telling you now. I’ve done good so far not telling you.”

“Please…” you pleaded

“Nope. Anyway, we’re in five minutes away. You’re too impatient you are.” Kyra said, you playfully rolling your eyes, knowing she was right.

—

Just like Kyra said, within five minutes, you were parked and ready to go.

You got out the car, Kyra covering your eyes so you couldn’t see.

“Kyra! Is this really necessary?”

“Yes, it is. It’s a surprise.”

You couldn’t make out where you were.

You could faintly hear the tune of last Christmas playing but you mainly focused on not tripping over as Kyra led you to the mysterious place.

As you got closer, the sound of music and laughter became louder.

“Are you ready?” Kyra asked, you nodding desperately as she took her hands away from your eyes.

In front of you was winter wonderland. The lights were blinding as you looked around.

Fair ground rides were everywhere, food stalls selling the most delicious sounding foods were scattered around.

It was just like you imagined.

“I knew you wanted to come here. I kind of overheard your conversation to Steph about winter wonderland so I thought this would be nice.” Kyra explained, your heart melting as you pulled her into a hug.

“That’s so sweet of you, Ky. thank you.”

You had moved to England from Australia in the summer and had never really experienced a ‘proper’ Christmas, hence why you wanted to come here and experience the best Christmas landmark, winter wonderland.

“Everything’s on me tonight as well. My treat.” Kyra told you, you pressing your lips to her cheek as a thank you.

—

The rest of the night was incredible.

You went on the fair ground rides together, played a few games, had amazing food.

There was one thing left to do, the ferris wheel.

It took a bit of persuasion to get Kyra to go on the ferris wheel but all it took was a pleading smile from you for her to say yes.

You were nearing the top when you shivered slightly, the temperature dropping as the moon rose.

“Here, have my hat.” Kyra said, noticing you shivering.

She took her hat off, placing it on your head before placing a soft kiss to your cheek.

Your cheeks reddened, your eyes catching Kyra’s as you watching her own flicker down to your lips.

Small snowflakes fell around you both, the first fall of the year.

The snow glistened as it fell, you and Kyra still not looking away from each other.

Slowly but surely, you both began to lean in.

It felt like a lifetime before your lips finally met in a sweet but passionate kiss.

You both pulled away when it felt right, the two of you having rosy cheeks and smiles on your faces.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks.” Kyra admitted, a small chuckle leaving her lips.

“Me too. I really like you, Ky.”

“Will you be my girlfriend, Y/N?”

“Of course I will.”

You rested your head on Kyra’s shoulder, staring out at the city lights that lay before you both.

“Merry Christmas, Kyra.”

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso imagine #womens football #woso fanfics #kyra cooney cross x reader #kyra cooney cross fluff #kyra cooney cross

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sukunasbow · 1 year ago

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sfw hcs, nate archibald.

summary: nate and sfw hcs!

warnings: not yet proofread!

notes: sorry for the inactivity but i plan on this being my first comeback post aka i’m returning very soon! stay tuned for my halloween event 🤭

The original and best golden retriever boyfriend out there.

He’s so obsessed with you, literally worships the ground you walk on.

It took some time for the two of you to finally get together, as you were worried about Blair’s reaction, but she ended up being supportive, since you were happy.

He loves spoiling you but hates when you spoil him. He’ll buy you anything you want or ask for but as soon as you spend even a dollar on him, he’ll insist on paying you back or buying you something in return.

His favourite date with you isn’t some expensive restaurant, he just loves when he gets to come over to your house and order takeout while watching a movie.

That being said, he doesn’t mind going out to a fancy place if you ask. Of course, he insists on paying though.

Whenever he’s having family issues and needs to get away, he always goes to you for comfort and a place to stay until he’s back on his feet.

Speaking of family issues, even though he doesn’t always know how to voice his appreciation, you’re always there to step up and defend him against his father or anyone else whenever he can’t.

Your family adores him and constantly asks about him, he’s literally the most respectful boyfriend you could’ve asked for.

Nate definitely loves wearing couples costumes during Halloween or having a sleepover and wearing matching pyjamas during Christmas, even though he pretends it’s silly.

In conclusion, this man loves you so much and sees you as his lifetime partner, you’re just so special to him.

taglist: @emryb @l5byrinth @hayleysimp @edb954

#short and might suck cause i haven’t written in so long #have mercy yall #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #gossip girl x reader #gossip girl fanfiction #gossip girl imagine #nate archibald x reader #nate archibald fanfic #nate archibald fanfiction #nate archibald x you #chuck bass x reader #chuck bass fanfiction #blair waldorf x reader #serena van der woodsen x reader #gg x reader

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talesfromawannabewriter · 2 months ago

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Leathery Love

@things-arent-what-they-seem66 here's part one, hope you enjoy

and @lilacwriter07 enjoy your early Christmas present

Lilith: I'm leaving you Lucifer

After twenty years of marriage never did Lucifer ever imagine those words ever being uttered from the love of his life's lips. Especially not on the day of their wedding anniversary.

Lucifer: What?

Was all he could say to Lilith who looked both tired and disappointed with him as she sat at the table with her arms crossed. They were supposed to be eating a meal together, drinking some wine, then watching a movie. They were at home at Lilith's insistence from a few days ago. She said she wanted to spend the evening with just him. No one else was to see what she wished to do.

He just thought she wanted to try something new. Not break his fucking heart in private so no one can see him cry.

Lilith: I said I'm leaving you Lucifer, I want a divorce.

Lucifer felt his heart start to pace as his breathing slowly turned erratic.

Lucifer: But, but, but I, I don't...why Lily

Lilith bristled at the nickname for a moment before answering.

Lilith: Because I no longer wish to be in a relationship where I fell out of love with you years ago. I swore that when Charlie moved out, I would finally bring myself to get out of a place that has only brought me misery.

With that she stood up and headed upstairs. Lucifer was still reeling when about five minutes later she was coming back down with two bags full of her stuff. Her stuff. Lucifer's eyes widened at the sight of them. It meant,

Lucifer: Lilith please, I beg of you don't go! Please! Lilith

He ran to her when she got to the doors. She stared him down as he stood in front of her exit; however, Lucifer could only stare up with tears starting to stream out onto his pale cheeks.

Lucifer: Lilith...please my darling I'm sorry for whatever I did wrong.

Lucifer then proceeded to do something he'd never thought he'd do in his lifetime due to the man's humungous pride and ego.

Beg

He fell on his knees, clasped his hands together, and begged for her to change her mind. Never did Lucifer ever felt so pathetic in his entire existence. He thought that it would get Lilith to at least think about doing something other than divorce. However, the thirty-eight-year-old singer had already made up her mind a long time ago.

Lilith: I'm sorry Lucifer, but I don't think you were ever meant to be mine.

With that she stepped aside, threw open the doors of their large, grand home and walked out. Never to step inside her former home again. All while Lucifer kneeled on the ground in total despair. It was only when he heard a car engine turning on did, he turn around and saw Lilith pull out of the driveway with her purple convertible and proceed to drive away did he close the door behind him to let out the anguish sob that had built up in his throat.

(Two months later)

Lucifer felt like his life was slowly falling apart. Ever since Lilith left, she had been sending him papers and been talking through her lawyer to him. Lilith had been one the most shining aspects of his life. In the entirety of their marriage, he devoted to making her happy. Including to working hard to provide for the both of them. So that way she could work on her music career. He bought her anything she wished for; heck he'd buy her the greatest diamond in all the world to make her happy.

In the end he guessed it just wasn't enough. When she sent him the final paperwork to sign off on their divorce completely shut the once proud, strong man down. Lucifer hadn't been out of the house in weeks and had mostly been taking to moping around the house. Or just laying all day in his bed, not sleeping, just staring up the ceiling, wall, or even occasionally the tv in his room that he put on for white noise. He didn't even go to the office.

Which would have been worse if Lucifer wasn't the boss of his toy company. Even if lately, he's been having his brother/partner Mammon and his assistant Moxxine take care of his work for him. Speaking of family, his brothers, sisters, and even daughter had seen how bad his depression had been and wanted to help him. Especially his daughter Charlie, who went to her Uncle Ozzie and begged for her to find a way to make him feel better. Since him and Ozzie have been the closest out of all seven siblings. Oz had an idea, but he didn't know if it would work

Lucifer: A sex dungeon?!

Lucifer sat across from his brother in his living room while in his robe. Oz noticed he also had deep, dark bags underneath his eyes. His hair looked a bit oily, and he appeared to be growing some hair around his muzzle. However, despite his shaggy appearance his body was rigid, his stark blue eyes wide awake as he took in what his brother just suggested.

Ozzie: Hun, please I know this might seem a lot and too soon after...

Lucifer: I don't care about ugh her. Look Oz even if I wasn't hung up over losing my wife, I don't think it would be right to go to fucking prostitutes!

Ozzie: But that's the thing though I really think these girls or boys can help you, Luci!

Lucifer: How!? How in the hell can they help me!?

Ozzie: By helping you get over Lilith. If you're with one those bad guys down, there soon Lilith will be nothing more than a distant memory. Plus, I distinctly remembering you telling me about this one domniatrix porno you kept watching. You kept telling me how you wish you could be Lilith's naughty boy. Well now you can do that! Just you know not with her.

Lucifer: I told you about that. Since when?

Ozzie: Since that time at that barbeque back in July where you got drunk and confessed to me.

Lucifer must've been hard hammered drunk to have told his brother about that. Since usually Lucifer was extremely private when it came to what happened in his bedroom. The blond man opened his mouth to once again reject his brother's offer but then stopped to think about it. It had been so long since he'd been in the warmth of someone's arms in the bed. Even before Lilith left, she had been distant from him for quite some time.

It actually was the reason for Lucifer looking up on those sites in the first place. He knew no love would be with the person he'd be with; he still wanted to forget about his heartbreak. Even if it was for only one night. Taking a breath, he looked straight at his expecting brother and said,

Lucifer: Alright, I'll go.

#adamsapple #modern au #female adam #leathery love au #angst

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damiansgoodgirll · 2 months ago

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Hey 💜💜 wondering if you could write something where Damian and reader have been trying to have a baby for so long, and they've done all the treatments, but nothing ever worked, so they’ve stopped "trying". And then she ends up pregnant randomly, and her gift to him on Christmas is a positive test or a cute onesie or whatever, and it takes him a minute to actually believe her 💜💜

i love this request so much! working on it!

damian priest x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

‼️mention of infertility, pregnancy, pregnancy sickness, a little angst, mention of smut, fluff and comfort‼️

early christmas present

one year and a half.

one year and a half of you and damian trying to have a family together. one year and a half of you going from doctor to doctor, clinic to clinic and changing different treatments and yet nothing ever happened.

maybe it wasn’t meant to be. maybe you and damian weren’t fit to be parents and this was the sign. maybe it wasn’t meant for you to be a mother in this lifetime, no matter how much you wanted to be.

and you spent a year and a half blaming yourself. you reached to a point where you tried to break up with damian, saying how he deserved someone who could give him a family.

he thought you were crazy when you said that. he loved you so much and the idea of losing you was killing him, so, after a lot of therapy sessions, sleepless nights crying in each other’s arms, you came to the conclusion that it wasn’t really meant to be and that there was nothing you could do about it.

the idea of being infertile never crossed your mind so it was a big shock to you but as time passed by, you learned how to live with that and instead of focusing on the bad things, you took your life back.

a few people in the company knew or more - heard - about you and damian not being able to have kids and tried to suggest you many different options, from adoption to surrogacy but even if they seemed having good intentions, it pain you to know that your own problems became public domain.

you and damian lived your life. he promised to stay by your side and he did. he knew how much you wanted this and he was hurting at the idea of you feeling like it was your fault.

you found strength to take your mind off of that and focusing on different things. helping damian training, having dates like it was your first time together, spending much needed time in each other’s company. all the little things you loved that felt lost a year ago.

passionate nights with damian, him reminding you how much he loved you and appreciated you. you felt like yourself again and you got used of being just you and him, even if it meant for the rest of your life.

about a week ago you got sick. thinking it was just a normal cold, you let it go. but it got worse when the delicious smell of fresh bread and coffee became unbearable for you and got you nauseous every single morning.

“stomach issues again?” damian softly asked when he saw the disgust painted on your face.

“i think so…it smells so bad damian” you tried to joke when damian backed off so he could drink his coffee without making you feel worse.

“do you want me to make you something else? eggs? bacon? pancakes? anything you like?” he was so caring with you but the idea of eating made you even sicker.

“i feel like i could throw up the whole menu” you said making him laugh “i booked an appointment for today, i’m having a check up, maybe i got some virus or something…nothing too serious” you tried to remain calm but the idea of being sick for so long made you worry.

“i wish i could come with you but i promised rhea i would help her train…let me call her so i can come with you” he was about to pick up the phone but you stopped him.

“it’s not necessary damian, i promise” you smiled “she needs you, i’ll see you later on tonight” he knew that you wouldn’t have let him ditch rhea for a simple check up and he knew that no matter what he said, you wouldn’t let him come.

he nodded, moving the coffee away so he could properly kiss you before you left the house.

a couple of hours later and you were sitting in your car, watching the people passing by as you were trying to elaborate what the doctor just told you.

you weren’t sick - you were pregnant.

you were pretty sure it was impossible for you but all the tests the doctor ran turned positive.

how?

when?

your mind was racing and you couldn’t stop the million thoughts that were going through it.

sure, you and damian stopped having sex with condoms when you were trying to have a baby and when you learned that you couldn’t have kids you never really cared about safe sex anyway.

but how did it happen if you were infertile?

the doctor didn’t have a proper answer and he already scheduled some appointments to keep you checked, saying that it was almost a miracle.

right now, you were thinking about damian.

how were you going to tell him?

many ideas crossed your mind. from a mug with “best dad”, to a small t-shirt or maybe even a teddy bear.

you wanted to make this special for him too so when you crossed a shoe store on your drive back home, you decided to stop and get some inspiration. immediately your eyes fell upon a baby version of the black nike sneakers he had and you thought it was going to be an awesome gift.

your baby wasn’t even born and yet you were buying matching shoes for them and damian. while wrapping the box, the sale assistant smiled at you, unconsciously knowing that you had in mind.

you couldn’t contain your excitement and enthusiasm so you tried to speed back home.

too much surprise damian was already back and he was watching something show when you entered the front door.

his eyes immediately fell upon you, remembering you had the visit that morning.

“hey mi amor” he smiled “how are you? feeling better? what did the doctor say?” thousands of questions immediately echoed in the room, making you chuckle.

“one question at a time damian” you smiled sitting next to him on the couch “i’m feeling better, thanks, and the doctor gave me an explanation on why i keep getting sick, especially in the morning” you tried not to be so excited but it was hard.

“so?” damian was worried. he couldn’t understand why you were so happy and smiley.

instead of giving him an answer, you took the box right out of your bag and gave it to him “let say this is an early christmas present…and also the reason on why i’m always so sick” you watched him look between you and the box “come on, open it” you smiled.

damian carefully opened the small box and for a moment his heart stopped.

mini shoes? he wasn’t understanding.

and then it clicked.

“what? how? is this real?” his eyes moved between your now teary eyes and the little shoes he was holding in his hands “is it real?”

you nodded, not being able to find enough words.

“we’re gonna be parents?” he asked, now fully already knowing the answer.

“yes…” your voice broke a little but the joy filling the room was worth all of the tears you were shedding.

“this is the best gift i could ever ask for” he wrapped you in his arms and held you as you both cried of joy.

“i already booked the next appointments. the doctor wants to run some more tests and try to understand how i actually got pregnant…and we have an ultrasound appointment in a week too…we’re gonna see the baby soon” you cried onto damian’s shoulder.

“fuck, i love you so much mi amor” he quickly wiped off his tears before softly kiss your lips “and i can’t believe you got us matching shoes” he bursted out laughing.

“i can’t wait to get you matching clothes, matching pjs, matching socks, everything gonna be matching” you joked, making him even happier.

damian’s hand went over your belly “i can’t wait to meet you baby…” he softly spoke making your heart warm “you are already so loved…we love you so much, mama and papa…i can’t believe i’m saying this” he was still high on emotions and you couldn’t blame him.

maybe it really was a christmas miracle.

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lurochar · 7 months ago

Text

A Snow Day in Hell

Heeey, anyone else remember that ‘special feeling’ meme from years ago? No? Me either

–----------------------------------------------

Hell had frozen over.

Literally.

It was an extraordinarily and incredibly rare occurrence, according to Charlie, who, a literal native demon born of Hell, had only seen it snow once before in her lifetime.

It generally occurred once every few hundred years, perhaps add or minus a century here or there, Lucifer could not be bothered to keep track when Charlie had asked him how often it actually happened since the snow only stuck around for a day at the very most and was just a minor inconvenience.

You were honestly excited to witness such a unique experience and were dismayed to find that Alastor could care less about such a thing.

And so, you had to pester him and even promised him a favour (his proceeding and chilling smile sent immediate shivers down your spine) just to take a stroll with you around town (and would probably regret when he came to collect that favour).

“Of course, Darling! I have no important tasks to complete today. Why, I would be ever so honoured to escort you to town on such a… lovely day.”

You gave Alastor a skeptical look when he glanced outside with an expression that screamed the opposite of what he was saying.

He clearly hated snow.

“But, seeing my partner beg me in such a pitiful manner – well, how can I possibly say no to that?”

Maybe you should have just asked Charlie? She seemed just as excited as you to see the snowfall.

It took quite a bit of self control for Alastor to not let out a dark chuckle at your varying expressions. You may be his companion, but he was still a sadist through and through.

Maybe it was a bit soft when it came to you though. Just a little bit.

Besides, as irritating and cold as it was, a little snow, that would literally only last for a day, would never hurt anyone, right?

~00~

“It’ll be on any minute now!”

You covered your face with a pillow in pure embarrassment, unable to look at the screen of the TV as Charlie bounced in excitement.

How did she find out?

Ah damn, she already gathered the others to watch.

“W-why are you here?” You barely lifted your face enough to eye Alastor, seeing him sitting smugly in his usual chair. “It was you, wasn’t it?! You told Charlie, didn’t you!?”

“Well, of course I did!” Alastor’s grin was utterly demonic and he was obviously taking pleasure in your mortification. “Normally, I am completely against these awful picture box shows and was utterly baffled when you agreed to a… television interview, Darling, with me when you are completely aware of my distaste.”

“Uh, wait,” Angel Dust raised his arm, “you’re on TV, Smiles? How did they capture you on camera? How’d you not, ya know, blow up the whole network with that whole staticky thing you do? Why is Vox even letting this air?”

Everyone glanced over to Alastor, but he answered nothing.

You had no idea either.

“Oh, it’s on!” Charlie pointed with a wide grin and you slumped over, ready to just pack your bags and leave to save yourself the embarrassment.

On the TV, the scene was that of you and a tall figure that was distorted, blurry, and pixelated, yet was clearly Alastor from shape and colour alone. Honestly, you were surprised he was showing up even this much and not blowing out the camera like Angel Dust had pointed out.

It was a simple question, you were only stopped by the news reporter to ask what you thought of the unprecedented snowfall.

You had just been caught up in the moment, the idea of experiencing the whole once-in-a-lifetime thing with your partner.

So you had replied with something straight out of a Christmas romcom movie or something equally as cheesy. You really had no idea where it came from. Maybe the fact that Alastor had summoned an umbrella and was holding it over both of your heads?

It was mainly so he wouldn’t get snow in his ears, you would find out later.

“Isn’t this just amazing? Snow that falls only every few hundred years? It’s stunning, isn’t it?” Your face was beginning to turn red as you continued on without waiting for another question from the reporter. “Being in the snow with my lover like this immerses me in a special feeling. I love it.”

Oh fuck.

How the fuck could you say that with a straight face!?

It was clear that Alastor felt the shame for you, even through his blurry distorted figure, you could see his ears flatten against his head and his head completely turn away from the reporter like he wasn’t there to hear your cringey words.

“Oh my Satan, are you fucking serious?” The news reporter sneered at you. “I just asked you about some fucking frozen water. Not your version of a romantic date you’ll have in your shitty wet dreams.”

You blinked and the distorted Alastor slowly turned his head back towards the reporter.

“This is fucking Hell, not some Barbieland bulls–”

You couldn’t help it and a few of your more demonic features were showing before you could stop them and you grabbed the umbrella Alastor was still holding. “You asked me a question about snow and I answered and then you make fun of me for that!? So what if I want a romantic outing with my lover!?” You shoved the umbrella’s pole into the gut of the reporter and growl into the camera, hearing the cameraman cry out before it cuts out and the interview is over.

There was complete silence.

“W-well, maybe it wasn’t as bad as I thought it was.” You scratch your cheek, “J-just forget what I sa–”

“Oh, that was so romantic!” Charlie’s eyes were wide and sparkly, “I never knew snow could make you feel that way.” She gasped loudly, looking at Vaggie. “There’s still time! Come on, Vaggie! We need to go out in the snow to ‘immerse ourselves’ in that special feeling!”

Vaggie just throws you a grumpy look before sighing and following after Charlie.

Angel Dust is laughing his ass off, “Special feeling? Seriously, Dollface? Did that cold freeze your brain cells or somethin’? Well, at least ya showed that dick reporter who’s boss. Smiles, over there, did nothin’.”

“I don’t need him to do everything for me.” You muttered, glancing over at Husk and, for once, glad to see he’s too drunk to care and Niffty had lost interest as soon as she saw a cockroach.

You looked over to Alastor.

“Are you satisfied?” You asked with a sigh, “Watching me embarrass myself and then lose control on the news that’s aired all around Hell?”

Alastor’s grin widened. “Very much so, Darling. Not only have you provided me with great entertainment, but now you have also given me an excuse to go after the one who aired your follies. I do believe I should give my ‘old pal’ a visit quite soon.”

Yeah.

You really should have just asked Charlie earlier.

#alastor x reader #x reader #hazbin hotel x reader

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