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spookysteddie · 4 months

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Always Comin’ Home to You

Gator Tillman x fem!reader

18+ MINOR DNI

dec: after a fight with his step-mother Gator comes home late, scaring you. His bruises tell you of the day he had and all he wants is to feel you.

cw: Swearing, abandonment, mental / physical abuse (Roy to Gator), domestic abuse (Roy to Karen), bruises, mention of death, implication of anxiety, murder, toxic religion themes, gator calls his step-mom a cunt, crying, fingering, daddy kink, dd/lg themes if you squint, Gator calls himself her God (what's the name for that?), unprotected penetrative sex, cream pie, promises. (let me know if I missed anything)

wc: 3.7k

a/n: I need Gator Tillman like I need to fucking breathe. This man is WOW. I just want to pet him and tell him he is, in fact, a winner and then suck him off. Anyway, I hope y'all like this heheh

...

Gator Tillman didn’t have a lot of good things in his life.

Between his mother leaving, his father being as asshole and everything in between, Gator was a little fucked up and very morally gray. Doing his daddy's dirty work in the hopes Roy will finally be proud of him.

Now, there was one good thing (or person) in his life, one human who brought out the best in him. One person who saw him for the person he was deep inside. The one who saw him as a winner.

You.

You were everything Gator could ever dream of, his perfect girl.

“Gator? Baby have you seen my sunglasses?” You pull some clothes out of the hamper, double (triple) checking that they weren’t in there. “Do you have them? Are they in your cruiser?!”

You hear Gators heavy footsteps before he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, “have ya checked on top of ya head?” You can hear the smugness in his voice and instantly you want to punch him.

You were an angel and subsequently the sweetest girl. Shit, you make Gator catch and release the spiders you find in the house because you ‘want someone to grant you the same kindness in life’. Whatever that means. But of course he does it, because the last thing he wants is to make you cry.

Well, that’s not true. He loves making you cry while your wrapped around his cock, fucking you so deep and hard that you can’t form a complete thought. Only then does he enjoy the tears streaming down your face.

But at the same time, you had a wicked attitude. One he liked to fuck outta you at every opportunity. And when you look up at him he knows it’s coming.

“Do they look like they’re on my fuckin’ head, Gator? Jesus Christ.” But he doesn't fail to notice you subtly check in the mirror to make sure they aren’t actually on your head. They aren’t, for the record.

Gator is not like his daddy. Does he have his fathers attitude? Absolutely. But he has never raised his hand to you outside of the bedroom, much to his fathers dislike. Claiming he’s watched his father beat on his step-mother and even though he hates her – only because she gave birth to his twin sisters, giving his father two more chances to fuck their futures up – he doesn’t think it’s right.

He balls his fists, nails digging into the center of his hand. He has too much shit to do today and, frankly, doesn’t have time for this shit. “Watch ya mouth bunny. Lucky my dad aint home to hear you take Christs name in vain.”

Gator is right. His daddy already doesn't like you, doesn’t think you’re Godly enough. He also seems to think you’re an idiot simply because Gator does everything for you, even down to tying your shoes. It’s something Gator likes doing, taking care of you as it helps ease his mind.

But at the same time Roy wonders how his son could catch and keep a girl like you. It’s emotional whiplash most of the time. Of course, Gator takes the brunt of his daddy's issues when it comes to you, never letting his daddy so much as look wrong in your direction.

You sigh, running your hands down your pink skirt, “look, can you please help me find them? You know my eyes don’t do well with the sun bouncing off the snow.”

His eyes soften, loving when you need his help, “I’m willin’ to bet they’re in the cruiser on the floor boards.”

Your face heats as you remember exactly why they’d be on the floor of the cruiser, your escapades from your little meeting at the police station last night. There was always that preliminary fuck before going back to Roys (cause God forbid Gator ever come stay at your place. His daddy needs him nice and close.) considering you don’t know how to keep your moans quiet. So, he tires you out, not so much that you can’t drive back to his place, but just enough to where you’re silent during round two and three and four.

The cold nips at your bare legs, winter just as brutal as every other year in this godforsaken state. You swear it never gets easier, winter, and the older you get the more you think about moving south. You think Gator would like the warmer weather, probably find the warmth soothing.

“Ah ha! Got ‘em!” Gator hands them to you with a huge smile on his face. He looks almost boy-like. It’s rare he has a genuine smile, especially when his daddy is around.

“Gator,” his step-mothers voice rings out from the porch, making you both jump. He doesn’t turn around, doesn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing his frustration. “Stop yellin’ cause your sisters are sleepin’!”

“Karen, they’re at the other end of this fuckin house and your scratchy ass voice is louder than me.”

You can see her huff, “I should call your father!”

He sighs, turning on his heel, “I don’t think that’ll be a good idea. Dad’s… a little busy today.” Gator knows exactly what his daddy is busy with, not that he’d ever tell you. Terrified that he would somehow put you in danger.

You know that there was shit his daddy made him do. Things that forced him to come home with black eyes, bloody lips and bruises on his knuckles and body. It hurt your heart every time he came home like that, telling you it was nothing while he winces as he takes off his clothes.

Karen seethes from the porch and you see her look from Gator to you and back. Gator, who notices everything, sees it and steps in front of you, pushing you behind him. “Don’t look at her like that, Karen.”

That seems to annoy her more, “she better not be here tonight. You hear me? Don’t need your sisters hearin the stuff you two get up to at night.”

“Not any worse than dads hands hittin’ your face while they sit at the kitchen table.” You cringe at his statement, seeing Roy hit Karen more times than you can count. “You don’t run this house. Or tell me what to do.” He spits on the ground and turns away, waiting till he hears the door slam to speak.

“I fuckin hate her. She’s sucha little bitch.”

You wrap your arms around his middle, breathing him in. “Can stay at mine tonight if you want. Don’t wanna get you in trouble,” you murmur into his shirt. “O-or we can spend a night apart. I know we haven’t done that inna while but just till this blows over an’ we know she didn’t say nothin’ to your father.”

You know you're rambling, but all you want is to make Gators life comfortable and safe. You know there is a small chance that Karen will call Roy, tell him what happened, maybe even lie (she’s done that before) and say you upset her. If that happens, Gator will get it good, possibly another broken arm or dislocated jaw. That’s the last thing you want. You can feel you chest ache, eyes burning at the idea of Roy hurtin’ him.

Gator pulls your face back from his chest, making you look up at him, “don’t you be worryin’ bout me now. Roy ain’t gonna do shit and I don’t sleep when you aren’t curled up next to me,” he kisses your forehead. “I’ll put some feelers out to see if that little bitch called him. Gotta meeting at 3 with him.”

You nod, your hand coming up to fix his jacket. In reality, you just need something to distract from the burning behind your eyes.

“Hey? I’m serious. I’ll be fine, okay?” He lets you go to reach into his pocket, pulling out some cash and handing it to you, “why don’t you go get your nails done or something, yeah?”

You know refusing to take the money wont go well, so you take it, putting it in the pocket of your jacket. “Thank you, daddy,” you whisper out, knowing you aren’t really supposed to say that outside of Gators locked bedroom door.

He lets it slide, the day has been stressful enough for you. “That’s my good bunny. Now, run along and I’ll meet you here at six okay?”

You tilt your head, “no station tonight?”

“Nah… Jerry is working and he’s got a starin’ problem when it comes to ya. Don’t feel like scoopin’ eyeballs out. Too messy.”

You shudder but kiss him goodbye before getting in your car. You have a very bad feeling his 3pm meeting isn’t going to go how he expects.

…

You were right.

You knew you were right the second you pulled up to his house at six on the dot and he wasn’t home. You reach for your phone, looking to see if maybe you’d missed a text, phone call, shit even an email from your boyfriend.

Nothing.

Even when you try to call him, you're met with a voicemail. You can feel the bile rise in the back of your throat, fear making your skin itch. Was this it? Was this the time Roy sends him out there to do his dirty work and he doesn’t make it home?

He could be anywhere right now. Not only that, if he was dead, no one would do shit for him. No funeral, no service, nothing. His dad would go on and wipe his hands clean of his “loser” son, probably more than happy that the ties of his first wife are gone for good.

Oh God, what if he was dying, the cold freezing the blood onto his skin, frostbite settling in. He could be so scared, praying to the God he doesn’t believe in that you come find him. His clothes are probably wet too, sticking to him thanks to the sn-

A knock on your window makes you jump, a yelp falling from your lips. You look over, seeing the blue of his jacket in your peripheral and the sight makes you gasp. You’re quick to shut off the car, jumping out and getting a closer look at him.

He looks… awful. His right eye is nearly swollen shut, dry blood sticking to his split brow. There is a bruise on the other side of his face and under his left eyes, clearly he got hit in the nose.

“Baby…” this time you can't stop the tears from falling. “Baby what happened?”

He lets out a long, deep sigh, his hands resting on your cheeks. “Fuckin’ cunt called dad. Said I needed a lesson in respect. S’how I got the bruise on my left eye.” He wipes the tear that falls from your eye, his touch soft and kind, “sent me to do some shit across state lines. Guy beat the fuck outta me. He ain’t alive no more though.”

You sniffle, “is it just your face?”

He shakes his head but doesn’t say more. He knows you’ll see the rest once he gets you inside. Well … “we-I can’t let you sleep here tonight, Gator.”

He shakes his head, “it’s fine. Dad said so himself. Come on.”

And so he drags you inside, Karen looking like the cat that caught the canary as she watches you help Gator walk. You make a mental note to never forget this, never forget how she treats her step-son.

You push open Gators bedroom door, making sure to shut it silently and lock it before settling Gator on the bed. “Let’s get ya into some comfy clothes, yeah?”

You crouch down in front of him, making quick work of untying his boots.

“Baby, I can do this. I’m the one who's supposed to help you.”

That only makes more tears burn your eyes. You hated that he never let anyone help him, hated that he always had to be strong, couldn’t ever cry, nothing. You hated Roy for making him like this and you hated his mother for leaving and not saving her only son from a life of pain.

“Stop. Just-just let me help you, Gator please.” You pull at the laces to loosen them and make it easier to slide off his boot, your vision blurry from the tears in your eyes.

His boot comes off easy and you make sure you keep your hold on it so it doesn’t make any noise on the floor. Same with the second one.

You stand, unclipping his thigh holster and setting it on the nightstand where he likes it. Incase of emergencies. Next is his belt, coming off with ease. He stops you when you get to his pants, making you look up at him. He hates the silver shining along your waterline.

“I love you, little bunny.” He says it so quietly that you almost miss it.

“I love you too.” Your voice cracks as you say.

You work on his pants, popping open the buttons with ease. Next you pull his shirt out of his pants and pull it over his head. By the time his shirt hits the floor, you’ve gotten a full look at his bare torso. A bruise is forming along his ribs, it’s really red and slightly turning purple.

“Jeez baby,” your hands gently touch his skin and he hisses a little. “S-sorry.”

He says nothing as he helps you pull off his pants, leaving him in just his boxers.

“Stay here,” you tell him as you collect his dirty clothes and go into his attached bathroom. You sigh as you grab a face cloth, turning the water on so it heats up. It, of course, takes forever for the water to warm. Nothing like shit water heating thanks to the frigid winter. But once it does you wet the cloth and grab the first aid kit and go back to him.

You’ve done this before, cleaned him up, you’ve even stitched him up. You’d like to thank the internet for telling you how to do that and you’ve gotten good over the last two years.

“S’is gonna hurt. Luckily it looks like you don’t need stitches. Just don’t move while I work okay?”

He nods, “yes, baby. Ya don’t have to do this. I know you don’t like blood.” This was true, you didn’t like blood at all, barely even being able to handle papercuts. But for some reason, when it comes to him, you can manage to push it aside. Cuts can get infected and when they’re on his face it means it could go to the brain faster.

You carefully dab the wet rag around his split eyebrow, gently clearing off the blood and making sure that you don’t resplit the cut open. “I think it split from the swellin’ but I don’t think it needs stitches.”

He nods slightly, “good. I was hoping it’d close on its own.”

You put some wound cleaner on it before you bandage it. He might have a scar there unless he leaves it alone. But knowing Gator, it’ll open again. You clean up around his face and causing a hiss to leave his lips once you touch his cheek and eye. You apologize, applying some cream that makes bruises heal faster to his face and ribs.

“That’s everything.” You force a small smile at him, tossing the wet cloth into the hamper and putting the first aid kit away. You get undressed, needing skin to skin contact. Then, you climb into bed, snuggling up to him, resting your head on the safe side of his chest.

The silence stretches, Gators arm around your shoulders, his thumb moving softly.

“I thought you were dead in the snow,” the words tumble out of you before you can stop them.

He thumb stills for a heartbeat before resuming, “but m’not.”

“I’m sorry this is the life you were forced into. It is not fair.”

He kisses your head, breathing you in for a moment, “it’s not your fault, bunny. You didn’t do any of this. Shoulda kept my mouth shut when it came to Karen. Just… smile an’ wave.”

You shake your head, kissing his chest, “not how it’s supposed to be.”

Gator rolls over you, forcing you on your back. He bites back a pained groan. “My sweet bunny, listen to me. I am here. I am safe. S’gonna take a lot more to kill me.” He leans down, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss.

You let your hands slide into his hair, deepening the kiss. Honestly, you just need to feel him. He knows it and if he’s being honest, he needs to feel you too. He’ll never say it out loud, but as he laid in the snow, doing his best to get the fucker he was sent to kill off of him, he was scared.

Scared he would die and you’d spend the rest of you life wondering. He knew no one would fill you in and he knew his daddy wouldn’t have a service for him. You’d be alone, wondering what happened to him, praying to the god you don’t believe in that he’d come home again. So, he fought like hell and now, he really needs you. Needs to be inside you.

You pull back, breaking the kiss, “Gator, we can’t.”

“We can. Please baby.” Gator doesn’t beg, he didn’t need to when it came to you. Always more than willing to do what he says and give him what he wants. His begging makes you give in.

His hands push your underwear aside, feeling how ready you already are for him. Always ready, always wanting and only for him.

You pull him in for a kiss while his fingers find your clit with ease, swallowing your moans. He always knows exactly how you like it, fingers moving in swift circles and just the right amount of pressure.

“So fucking pretty when you’re at my mercy,” he pushes two fingers inside you, the stretch making your brain go fuzzy. “Looked so fucking pretty in your little skirt and frilly socks. My little angel.”

The way Gator is cooing at you, his fingers crooked up to touch the one spot that drives you nuts and you can feel yourself slipping into that headspace you both love. You’re trying so hard to be logical, knowing he’s hurt and can hurt himself further.

“Thank you, daddy. Bought it because I thought you’d like it.” Your voice is getting small, breathy.

He grins, kissing down your neck, “I love it. Love everything you wear. Look so pretty in your pastels.” His thumb finds your clit, a soft moan falling from your lips. It’s embarrasing how quickly you are to coming around his fingers.

“P-please. Gator please.”

He smirks, “use your words, sweet girl. Tell me what you want.”

You can feel your body heat up from both the coil inside you winding tighter and the embarrassment of having to say what you want. “I-I need to cum. So bad.”

The second the words are in the air, Gator pulls his hands away, leaving your orgasm to fade away. “NO! No, no, no, no please!”

He sucks a mark into your neck, his tongue licking over the spot to sooth it.

“Need ya to cum on my cock, baby.”

Before your brain can catch up, he’s sliding inside you. The stretch is something you haven't gotten used to in the last two years. It feels like he's splitting you in half, his cock filling you completely.

“OH! Oh my god.” You're already panting, squeezing him so hard he’s fighting to not bust prematurely.

Gator drops to his forearms and pumps his hips, getting right in your face. He’s so close you can smell the fruity scent from the vape he was no doubt huffing on before coming to see you.

“S’right baby, I am your God and I love when ya pray to me.”

You can’t help the way your cunt clenches, a moan falling from your lips that is just slightly too loud for either of your comforts. At the moment, you don’t care. You know Roy already got his fill of kicking Gatos' ass. He’s not going to worry about it tonight.

“Daddy, please. I’m so close.”

His hips are snapping hard, cock hitting your cervix with every thrust. He feels like he’s inside your throat and you can’t tell if his grunts are from pain, pleasure, or both.

“Not yet. Almost there. D-don’t cum yet.”

Your nails sink into his biceps, hips starting to stutter.

“Please! Fuck! Oh god…”

He smirks, eyes meeting yours, “yeah? I know how bad ya need it. How bad ya need me to fill this pretty, little cunt up. Breed an own ya f’ever? Hm?” His eyes are black and he looks absolutely feral. Primal.

His hand snakes down the front of your body, finding your clit with ease. You gasp, thighs starting to shake. You knew you weren’t going to last but you needed his permission. You craved his praise and being in his good graces. You’d let him do anything to you, that’s how much you trust him.

“Yes! Yes! Whatever you want. Anything.” You don’t even know what you’re saying at this point, too cock drunk to think of anything besides him and what he’s doing to you.

He laughs, seeing your eyes glazed over and tears of pleasure lining your eyes, “cum for me bunny. Do it.”

It’s all you need to fall into bliss.

His hand covers your mouth knowing how loud you’re about to be. His face drops into your neck as he cums with you, both of your moans muffled by each other's bodies. His cum fills you, leaking out as he brings you both down.

His hand slowly leaves your mouth, head lifting to look at you.

“I love you. I fuckin’ love you so fuckin’ much.” He leaves little kisses all over your face, trying to bring you back to him. “You hear me? M’never leavin’ you.”

You take a shuddering inhale, trying to form a coherent thought, “P-promise?”

You hold your pinky up to him, hands shaking while adrenalin continues to run through your veins. He giggles, hooking his pinky with yours, “promise. I’ll always come home to you. I will always fall asleep next to you.”

He looks down, flipping your hand over and checking out your nails, “I can’t wait for these pretty, red claws to be wrapped around my cock.”

Your chest lightens as you both laugh together.

#gator tillman fargo #Gator Tillman #fargo season 5 #fargo fanfic #Gator Tillman x reader #gator tillman x fem!reader #gator tillman smut #gator tillman fic #gator tillman imagine #gator tillman x y/n #joe keery #joe keery fargo

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allfearstofallto · 2 months

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I did it :)

Degrees of Lewdity LI Transformations - Headcanons

All Male LI x Fem! PC Reader

Ft: (Corrupt, pure) Sydney, Whitney, Kylar, Robin

TW: 18+ MDNI, deviancy, wolf tf, harpy tf, bull tf, knotting, unprotected sex, Dub-Con, cumming inside, breeding

Angel! Sydney who's pure as the day he was born. Strawberry blonde hair that seems to shimmer in the light, hazel eyes that only pass forgiving stares. Wings whiter than freshly fallen snow and a golden halo, reflecting an almost blinding light off his glasses. Sweet pure Sydney isn't just the talk of the temple, his unshaken virtue is the talk of the entire town. Though he'll humbly insist that he can't cast blessings, but people still beg him to pray for them which he'll do regardless, he's too kind not to.

Fallen! Sydney who's lost that light in his eyes, dark hair draped over his shoulder. The blinding light of his halo is now changed to an inky black over his head, until one day he comes back with a fresh set of horns sprouting from his forehead. White wings look like they're dipped in oil, their color slowly sinks and becomes dark. You wonder if he seems happier this way, his insatiable lust making him palm himself through his shorts while looking at you, grinding himself against his hand while wordlessly mumbling what he wants to do to you.

Wolfboy! Whitney who doesn't let anyone mention the ears or fluffy tail he sprouted. Who insists that he only likes going into the woods because it's an easy place to smoke without being bothered. His new assets means that his already firm grip as he pounds into you, is now met with the painful feeling of claws digging into your hips, sharp teeth at your neck, threatening to bite. When he cums inside your already trembling cunt, he bullies that big knot of his inside. The swell of it filling your abused pussy up, knocks the air from your lungs.

Harpy! Robin who always had such a lovely singing voice, but when he sprouts colorful wings and a feathered tail his voice seems to get brighter. He sings you to sleep while stroking your hair, hands gentle as he's careful of his abnormally long claws. His love making is more passionate now, a pretty voice singing out as the claws dig into the bedsheets below you, those wings of his flapping as he fills you with cum, then nuzzles against your chest. He sleeps with a defensive arm around you, making sure you're full of his seed, but more importantly safe.

Bullboy! Kylar who's desperate, begging for your touch. He needs to be milked, so badly it hurts and only you can do it for him. His cock, abnormally large, balls heavy and filled to the brim. You'll stroke his cock as he stands stiffly, moaning out loudly while praising you with words of love and admiration. He cums while practically convulsing from your hands, your fingers slick with his precum. His balls tense, bovine tail wagging as cum drips down your arms, a seemingly never ending stream leaving the twitching head.

#degrees of lewdity sydney #degrees of lewdity #degrees of Lewdity Headcanons #degrees of Lewdity kylar #degrees of Lewdity robin #degrees of Lewdity whitney #whitney the bully #syndey the faithful #kylar the loner #robin the orphan #smut #mdni

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mrsnancywheeler · 2 months

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the river (6) // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: the Capitol has taken you away from Finnick, the life you've been trying to build together and now he has to fight to get every part of you back

previous chapter

masterlist

7.1k words

warnings: hurt/comfort, smut, angst, fluff, arguments, a wedding, pnv, unprotected sex, f receiving fingering, he doesn't pull out, cursing, allusions to trafficking, paranoia, violence, mentions of death, suicidal ideation, self-hate, dount, mentions of pregnancy but she's not pregnant, distrust, brainwashing, mentions of Snow, unedited, no use of y/n

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You looked so beautiful, so angelic, so unspeakably alluring standing in front of him in your borrowed dress. Never had he felt more excited than when he'd realized this was in fact the day you would become not just his wife in spirit, but legally, Mrs. Odair. The way you'd so delicately smiled up at him made him feel like his grin was more like that of a mad man, and maybe he was. Madly in love, madly obsessed, madly in need to spend the rest of his life with you. He needed the revolution to be over so he could have a billion kids that looked just like you, that laughed like you did, and smiled like you did. How soft your fingers felt when they brushed his lips with salt water was addicting just as it was when his fingers did the same to your lips. He felt blindly dazed by your smile as you recited the vows, Finnick barely remembered that there were cameras around.

Your genuine happiness was something he had come to miss, yet here it was once again. The feeling that made all the rough times worth weathering the storm, how unequivocally enamored of you he was with each smile and sweet word. Your sugary repetition of what the officiant said eventually waned, Coin had insisted on less flowery vows to keep the event concise, but that was okay because he'd spilled his heart before. It also helped that now he wasn't sure he'd be able to form any coherent proclamations of love when looking at you put him into a stupor.

“I, Finnick Odair, take you as my wife from this day forward. Together or apart, we will always be united. One life, one purpose, one destiny.” He'd never get sick of the way you were looking at him right now, like that same girl from the market that he'd approached all those years ago who was joyously stunned that Finnick Odair would even talk to her.

“You may kiss the bride." The officiant announced and Finnick had never been more pleased for his lips to touch yours. The salty and peachy taste that lingered on your lips that he adored, compounded with the sound of the children's choir beginning to sing, a confirmation that his official voyage with you had really begun. Ever so slowly he pulled away to gaze at you further.

“Hi." You whispered softly through your perfect smile.

“We're married." He whispered back, the giddy smile almost hurt, but he couldn't make himself stop. “Like actually married."

You nodded with a light laugh, "Yeah, we are!” The words left you so breathily before you'd kissed him once again and he wanted to drown in your lips. His mind seemed to echo the same words over and over again, a never ending stream. She's actually my wife. She's so happy and pretty and my wife. My wife. The way you danced and laughed was exhilarating, this was the you that the Capitol had chipped away at making a glorious appearance. You could have another breakdown tomorrow, but right now you shone brighter than the sun and it was all that mattered. It wasn't home, there was no sea breeze in the air, there had been no net to cover you both, or sending the couple off in a boat at the end for farewells. It wasn't even the spring time wedding you'd once whispered about on late nights, but it seemingly was exactly what you both needed.

Your feet had only stopped moving once the cake was rolled out, glorious in its waves of blue frosting. It truly left him amazed in the attention to detail of each sea creature so delicately placed. “Oh, it's perfect." You muttered, squeezing his hand.

Finnick nodded in agreement, “It's amazing." It was the closest to home as either of you could get, he ached to be able to know he'd be carrying you over the threshold of a tiny cottage by the sea, but he couldn't until this was all over. Until they'd won. So the cake would have to be sufficient enough and in the joy, it was. Especially when you so carefully fed him a bite of it, blue staining his teeth as he took the bite. Before the blue and green had just as equally begun to stain your lips when he did the same, and it made him feel so young again. A kid who'd eaten too many colored sweets.

Eventually the propo had to come to an end and with it, the fun and dancing. But his happiness didn't subside, even if it was no traditional reception of dancing all night, at least he could carry you through the door of the compartment and be with you for eternity.

“Hello, Mrs. Odair." He'd whispered after carefully placing you on the floor of the shared room.

“Hello, Mr. Odair." You responded absentmindedly, eyes so loving as your fingers played with his hair.

“We're actually married, officially married, forever and ever and ever."

“Yeah." You glowed, all of you was so bright. “Don't get cold feet on me now."

"Never.” He affirmed, kissing you again.

"Good because I'm rather attached.” He smirked and quickly pulled you back into his lips. Slowly, but surely your lips attacked him more feverishly, with more passion. It had been so long, but it was a feeling he missed so much, until your fingers had slidden down to the buttons of his jacket, where some sort of panic permeated his happiness. He longed for you more than he'd even let himself ponder, but he couldn't risk it when you were still at risk of a meltdown at any turn. So reluctantly he pulled away.

“Angel, what are you doing?"

He missed the cooling feeling of your skin the moment you pulled contact away and hated how embarrassed you suddenly looked. “I'm sorry, I should have asked, Finnick. If you don't want to, I won't.”

His hands reached out to assure you otherwise and caress the side of your head. “No, no, sweet girl, that's not it. You're all good."

For a moment you seemed relieved before the confusion seemed to settle back in. “Then what's wrong?” Finnick sighed, how could he tell you he was terrified that you'd have a mid-thrust mental breakdown that threw you into some kind of terrified hysteria? He sat down on the bed, preparing himself for the hole he was digging himself into. At the very least, talking to you about it now was leagues better than going along until you cracked.

“Honey, I just don't think it's a good idea."

“Oh, okay." Shit. He always ruined everything. You'd been so open and happy all day only for your voice to slightly break with a speck of insecurity. You were so sweet with the way you'd move on to pretend it didn't upset you somewhat and find something else to do.

“Not because I don't want you, trust me I do." The words tumbled out of his mouth as fast as he could form them to try and reassure you.

“If you want to, then what's stopping us? I do too."

"Honey, come here.” He patted down on the bed and you sat, carefully he grabbed your hands, hoping his warmth would provide some sort of comfort. “I just think maybe we should wait until you're feeling like there's less of a chance that you'll get scared when we're in the middle of something.

"I'm not gonna get scared, Finn, I want this.”

"You're not right now, but say you get hit with those thoughts that say I want you dead, which I don't, and I'm on top of you. That'd be scary for you.”

"I haven't had an episode for a couple weeks.” Your head turned to stare at the wall in front of you.

"You haven't had a major one and I'm so proud of you for that, but you've had some small ones. I don't want one getting bigger because of the circumstances.” Your hands pulled away from his, covering your face where stray tears must have begun to fall. “Hey, no, don't cry. I'm just trying to look out for you."

“I make everything so difficult, I'm sorry."

“No you don't, it's all okay."

Quiet sniffles filled the room before you laid your hands back down on your lap to look at him. “Finnick, I get you're worried about me and I love that about you. But I could freak out waking up in the middle of the night or when we're just cuddling. I want this, I want you, and if the worst happens then it happens and we cross that bridge, but I'm really sick of letting it control me.” He wanted you too, he'd felt guilty for any fantasies he'd had of you, but he had missed every part of you beyond belief.

“I just don't want to do anything you might not be able to handle, I'd need you to constantly communicate with me, so I know you're okay."

“I will, I promise."

You were so ethereal, he hated that it made parts of him throb when his brain had already found another dilemma. “I don't think they've got birth control here, or at least we don't have any."

“That's okay, I don't care." No, he couldn't do that to you. How could you handle being pregnant in the midst of everything else?

“It's not a good idea, angel."

“Why? We'll win the war soon and be back home." He wished it was that simple, but poor you having an episode would only complicate things.

“Honey, I just don't think you're ready right now."

“You're?" Fuck. Why the fuck would he say that.

“I meant to say we. We're not ready." Why was he so stupid? How could he manage to be trying to protect you so hard that he caused an episode instead? He'd have to brace himself for the mess he was causing.

“You’re lying to me. Why am I not ready?”

What he'd give for this blip to be over, to be at the point where there could just be children without all the worry about your health. "It's our wedding night, let's not argue. Let's go to bed, I'll read to you.”

But your walls were slightly raised and he could feel it as you stood up. "I wasn't trying to argue, I was trying to consummate the marriage. And instead of just saying you weren't feeling it right now and letting us move on, you said you thought I'd be a bad mom.”

"That's not what I said, don't put words in my mouth.” He said it too sharply and instantly regretted it.

“Then what are you saying, Finnick?” He despised the fact that he was only confusing you more when he was supposed to be letting you know what was real and what wasn't. The stress in your voice was evident as your arms protectively crossed around your body, foot tapping.

“That I don't think this is a good time for a baby, we should jump over a few more hurdles first." Finnick stood up, desperate to touch you, to soothe you. Trying to hide how mortified he was that regardless of all the talk he could still feel himself straining against his pants. “I just didn't say it right, I'm sorry, sweet girl."

"If you don't want to have sex that's fine, but stop trying to come up with excuses.”

"Angel, I do, I'm just…I've gotten so focused on trying not to set anything off that I've started planting the thoughts instead." He should be stronger, more able to read you so that he wasn't the one instigating the thoughts. Instead he was becoming overly paranoid himself, he hated the idea that he could need care when he was finally trying to care for his girl. “What I meant was, I think we should wait until the war is over for certain, so I'll just pull out." Slowly he approached you, hands softly urging your arms to uncross.

He could feel the way you began melting into his touch and it made him feel whole again. "Do you actually want to? I don't want you to feel like you have too because I'm in a mood.” Your eyes glistened with a sincerity that warmed his heart as your arms succumbed to his movements.

"Wanna make my sweet girl feel better, want to make it up to her.” He could basically hear your heart pounding and he loved that you still got somewhat flustered.

“You're absolutely sure though, right? This isn't just you-" His lips on yours cut off the further listings of any anxieties. Free hands searching for the zipper on the back of the dress as he quickly slid it down. He only pulled away long enough to make sure the dress had successfully become a pool at your ankles before his lips were on your chest. “Finnick?" Your voice snapped his head from his assault to look at you, who looked so sheepish to say anything at all. “Can that wait? I'm just… you know.”

With a smirk he raised his head, makitsure to stand fully back up as he looked at you. "You're just what, angel?”

"Finn, you know.” Your fingers messed with his jacket sleeves as you avoided his gaze.

Softly he pecked you on the lips,"Communication.” Another quick peck, "Need you to say it for me.”

"Finny, please don't be mean.” Fuck. Pulling out that nickname ever so sugary sweetly made him want to cave, to get straight onto taking care of you for life. “Already spent all that time arguing."

"Not being mean, angel, we just have to practice using our words.” You lifted his hand to your face, touching the heat of it to your face, which was oddly hot already considering how cold your hand was, per usual.

Your breath fanned across his hand as you quietly gave the confession, “Been aching for you all day, Finn."

“All day?" His hands moved to slowly unhook your bra, “Waited so well for me." The way you needed to just be coddled and taken care of was evident, he wanted nothing more than to love on you any way that he could. He let the bra fall to the wayside so his fingers could focus on how soaked your panties had become. “Can tell you've been waiting." It had been so long it was no wonder you were shy under his gaze. “Gonna make it better, show you how sorry I am." He could fall into the endless depths of your eyes that drew him in and fall forever with a smile on his face.

“I love you." The way you said it so tenderly made his heart skip a beat, he couldn't help but smile and place a small kiss on the tip of your nose.

“I love you, sweet girl.” Your fingers slipped up to continue the unbuttoning of his jacket which fell into a pile on the floor.

“Are you sure-"

“Yes, I'm sure." Finnick tried to back up this assurance through his eyes, hoping you could read through the depths of his soul. He slid his shirt off and you nodded, a signal that you had accepted what he said as truthful. Your fingers had settled on the button of his pants which you'd slowly undone as he stood there in utter awe of just you, all of you. He stepped out of his pants and boxers, leaving you on a nearly even playing ground. His fingers made their way to your hips, to the hem of your underwear to start pulling them down and the way your skin was so cold was startling. You'd always been freezing to the touch, but it made him feel guilty that you'd been stripped of any warmth besides his fingertips. “You're basically shivering, angel."

“You're burning up, so I'll be okay." It was true, the way your body temperatures aides the others had felt like another way you were made for each other. So slowly he'd pulled the panties off your body until they hit the floor as everything else had. Without another word your lips had crashed onto his which he used as an opportunity to slowly guide you towards the bed while you were lost in the feeling of his lips. He laid you down as your hand on the back of his neck dragged him down with you.

He took the opportunity to slide his fingers into your core and reveled in the feeling of you moaning into his mouth. A sound he hadn't heard in so long that it rang in his ears like music, a symphony that he could listen to for days. “You're so perfect." He muttered through the seconds you pulled away for air. You laughed breathlessly, shaking your head, “Yes you are." Finnick reiterated, thumb finding your clit causing another moan into his mouth the moment your lips had reattached to his. “Melodic to my ears angel, so perfect." Your hands tugged at his hair and he couldn't suppress the groan that came out.

"Love you so much, Finn.” The way you talked through the whimpers every time he added more pressure to your bundle of nerves made him an obsessive man. Your lips had become swollen from your prevalent addiction to his mouth, but you didn't seem to care, whining when he pulled his head just out of reach, trying to tug him back down.

He began thrusting his fingers in faster, mesmerized, as he always was and would be, by the way your face contorted with pleasure. “Love you too, angel, love my wife so much." In his daze of fascination you were able to pull his face back towards your own, fingers knotting in his hair.

Your voice was airy as you smiled softly through small whines,"Your wife.” He felt the clear heat your face exuded when he pressed his forehead to yours, it felt like your souls were one.

"My beautiful, perfect, gorgeous wife.” Your lips raised just enough to steal another peck from him as he kept rubbing harsh circles onto your clit. For a while he became enraptured just by your sounds, he didn't know how long had passed as he took in every small whimper to the loudest moans that you tried to cover.

“Oh my god, Finn!" You writhed slightly, a tell-tale sign of how near you were to release.

"You close, sweet girl? You gonna come for me?” He does his fingers up, as well as the intensity of his circles. Lips meeting yours once again as you nodded, eyes scrunching closed.

“So, so close." He began kissing at your neck, beguiled by the somehow lingering smell of the ocean on your skin.

"Come on, you can let go for me, sweet girl.” His kisses trailed down to your chest once again, utterly addicted to leaving the lingering feeling of his lips wherever he could. Upon your release the climactic end of the symphony blessed his ears and he was certain that if it was somehow possible, it had certainly made him harder. "So good for me." He slid his fingers out of you, the need to taste you winning when he brought them to his mouth.

“Need you inside, Finny, please." Your hands lead his face back close enough to kiss as you tried to catch your breath.

“You sure you're ready, angel?” You nodded eagerly, legs lifting to cross around his torso, pulling him closer.

“Yeah. Are you?" Your voice was so sugary sweet and addictive, every part of you was, if he died he was sure every part of you would consume his senses first.

“Yeah." His hand moved to softly caress your face, moving small strands of hair that had begun sticking to it away. Carefully he lined himself up with your entrance, stroking your cheek before he slowly pushed himself in. The sounds of both of your moans mixed in the air, intertwined as your bodies were. “Feel so good, angel. Fits so perfectly, you were made for me, we were made for each other." It was true, he wouldn't be complete without you. He'd gone his whole life needing nothing more than you, in every sense of the way, you fit one another flawlessly. He felt so sensitive that he was scared he might already be on his way to the climax, which he only dreaded because of how close he felt to you when he was in the warmth of your walls. That you were as close as you possibly could be, yet he still longed to be nearer.

“Faster, please?" It was nearly incoherent as you babbled through your whines, arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, as if you were still somehow trying to pull him in further. He happily obeyed your plea and sped up his ministrations, thrusting through his own climbing pleasure as he moaned. “Missed you so much, Finn. Can't live without you, you're-" Your own moans interrupted your train of thought and you took a moment to regain some type of verbal composure. “Only ever wanted you, only needed you. Meant to be." He was able to decipher your proclamations through the whines and over the sound of his own noises, it brought him ten times closer to feel so basked by your love.

“Not gonna let anyone hurt you ever again, I'm gonna take such good care of my wife. Promise." The security you both needed, that you both ached for and could only be guaranteed once the reign of Snow had toppled entirely. You looked ethereal, your face scrunched up with each noise you made, hair splayed out around you, eyes glazed over with adoration and pleasure. He was so hypnotized by the way love seemed to have filled every crevice of the room and whisped around that he barely even registered that he was at the very top of his climax. He'd let go at what felt so suddenly that he'd simply thrusted further inside of you as you moaned at your own release. It wasn't until the thrill had mostly passed that he remembered his own fears. “Shit, shit, shit.” He muttered as he pulled out of you completely.

You sat up almost instantaneously and he could feel the panic radiating off of you. "What, are you okay?”

You were so sweet. "Yeah, I'm fine, sweet girl. I just…" He trailed off, staring at you, wide-eyed, anxious to help at any indication something was wrong. For years, nearly a decade he had loved you, something that somehow seemed to be constantly, rapidly increasing. Besides all the troubles you'd both endured he knew there was nothing he would trade any of it for if he knew he could have you and now that life you both yearned for was just in grasp. Finnick had and would dedicate every second he could to sustaining that dream and keeping you afloat, and if he could do that, he could do the same if you did get pregnant. He sighed and leaned closer to you, “Nevermind, angel, just didn't pull out, but it's okay. We're so close to freedom I can taste it and I want a family with you so bad. Finally going to be able to have our perfect little family and perfect little life." He crawled into the bed near you, kissing your face.

“You really want a family with me?" Your eyes were wide with an adorable hope, like you hadn't really accepted that he really wanted to be with you. He scoffed like the doubt was ridiculous.

“Of course I want a family with you, my sweet girl, I married you." He pulled you as close as he could get you, foreheads pressed together once again, making his heart buzz with contentment.

You smiled before looking for reassurance once again, which he was happy to deal out. “And you're gonna stay with me, right? Never gonna be a part or split up again?"

With all the sincerity possible he caresses your face again, “Never gonna leave you again, I promise, angel." You were blissfully pleased with his answer and kissed him once again.

But maybe Snow was right, even if it was unintentional, Finnick Odair was a liar and he in some ways resented himself for it. Yet it felt like there was nothing else for him to do when weeks later he found out about the squad Coin was putting together and he was absolutely certain that regardless of the shared training, the promises, he had to be on that squad, and you absolutely could not be.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Finnick couldn't remember the last time he'd be physically ill, but since you entered the arena, he'd spent every day fighting the nausea. The Capitol's medicine certainly helped, but when he got feverish he barely wanted to take the concoctions. No if you died, he'd let himself die of fever to be with you. This was all his fault for ever even breathing in your direction, for caring, and now he'd have to suffer for it. What kept him going was how he had to be presentable and therefore healthy enough to get you sponsors, to rally for you. So he downed the medicine and copious amounts of caffeine to try and stay awake, he couldn't risk missing anything regardless of the alliances supposed to keep watch when you slept, he knew how fickle those could be. He rallied harder than he ever had to keep the public opinion on your side, you were sweet, delicate, a hopeless romantic, trying to stay alive for love, so pure, naive, a princess being forced to slay the dragon. Per usual people gobbled up any word that fell from his mouth and the sponsors came when called.

Then the rain started and he prayed that the arena would flood, you could swim, you'd survive that way, but it didn't flood. Raindrops just pattered down as the temperature dropped and then in what seemed like a matter of minutes, a few days into the rain, you were sick. Never had he been so grateful to have withheld the money for gifts beforehand because now he could get you what you needed to stay alive. Your lips were turning blue and he felt like he was tripping over himself in anxiety to send it to you. The sound of the rain echoed in his ears as he desperately waited for the blanket to arrive. For you to be warm, to stay alive. That night was the first one he had let himself cry, where death felt so imminent that he was plotting ways to go with you.

You persisted, you were like that. He felt his spirits rise as you continued on, so smart, so resourceful. His stomach wasn't in complete knots until suddenly your facade was slipping. What the fuck were you doing? What the fuck were you saying?

“Seems there's a lot about you I don't know then.” Conway stood and stared at you, Finnick could feel the illusion cracking through the screen. It was never going to continue forever, but this was too soon.

You tried to be quick on your feet, to throw together words to save yourself. “I’m not saying that I want to, just that sometimes you have to do what it takes to survive. Even if it's difficult -”

Conway interrupted your attempted safe and in that moment Finnick's stomach dropped. “Untrue?" Fuck. Fuck him. Fuck himself and Conway and fuck your slip of tounge. The stress had clearly gotten to you and was messing with how articulate you usually could be with your words.

“Yeah, I guess."

Finnick couldn't help but start muttering out loud, “No, no, no, no, don't say that. Angel, please.” He felt like he was going to cry again, you were on the edge of a cliff and the rocks were cracking.

“I'm sorry if that upsets you, I'm just doing what it takes to get home." Of course you were, you were doing what you had to, like every victor had, but you shouldn't have said it. It definitely didn't help that the frustration was evident in your voice. There must have been a brick of lead in the bottom of his stomach. Now he could never be home with you. Conway knew, there was no way he didn't.

“It’s okay, I understand.” No he didn't. “It's just hard to come to terms with, when you remember that this is all designed to bring that out in us. To see the other side, not through rose colored glasses.” Then he kissed you and Finnick knew the tides had turned. You needed to catch on, you could not be the prey, not now. Say you have to pee and run. Dart to wherever you can and hide.

Yet you didn't, you stuck by his side, and didn't follow when he and the male tribute from 7 went off alone for a second as you all ate. Finnick felt numb as the two discussed how they would get rid of you and the girl from 7, eyes red and stinging as he stared at the screen. He was helpless, he could only hope you could get his telepathic message that you were in danger. You didn't and your death warrant had been signed.

He saw how disenchanted Conway was by you when you killed the girl from 2. How dare he be disgusted when you were doing exactly what you had too in order to survive. Finnick was screaming at you through the television when Conway led you away. Stay. Stay by the girl from 7, let her take out the threat of Conway. Don't go with him. It was so hard to watch, but he persisted because he had to make sure you were alive. Finnick despised the way Conway was luring you in, he didn't care if it was hypocritical, you needed to survive, to come back home to him. When Conway's lips crashed into yours as he pulled the knives, your only protection, out of your hands Finnick felt like he'd lost all grip on reality. He threw a glass at the screen which shattered with a resounding crash, bubbly liquid cascading across the room, but he didn't care. Not when you were being led straight to your death, a ticket to a train that kept you forever away from him on this Earth.

You appeared so innocent and trusting, but with a glance Finnick could tell how scared you were, that you knew something was no longer quite right. Then the foot tapping started and if Finnick's stomach could get heavier then it did, too obvious. Any chances of you being able to play the role of the naive ingenue were long gone because Conway knew what it meant too. Then you did as Finnick had begged you to do long before, you ran. Predator and prey. You ran, he chased. Conway's long legs gave him an advantage as he sprinted after you, calling your name out in the tense air. You tried to hurtle yourself upon the closest tree and Conway had pulled you down in seconds.

This was it, the end. Finnick could feel his eyes welling with tears as his yells intertwined with your screams of begging Conway to let you go. He didn't know when he did it, but the coffee table had been toppled over on the floor, objects scattered across the carpet. Conway spewed on and on about how he knew you didn't love him, your heart was clearly owned by another, and how he was getting back at you now. You fought like hell, trying to squirm your way out of his arms until a knife was firmly plunged in your side. The scream you let out was so gut wrenching that let himself crumple onto the floor. Knees pulled up to his chest, face wet with a steady stream of tears, he was so helpless, so broken to not be able to save you.

You, however, made the tides change when your hands, now covered in defensive wounds, sharply forced themselves into Conway's eye. He screamed, trying to cover it, and you'd instantly darted up. Suddenly there was light at the end of the tunnel again, you were so smart, you'd halted him long enough to grab the spear. Finnick held his breath until the cannon went off, you'd overcome it, and he hated that he'd doubted you would.

Regardless of the fact that there were two tributes left, part of the weight on his chest lifted. He knew the feeling of how adrenaline pushed through the body to get you through every kill to the victory when one was in the arena and he could see it in you. His eyes stayed glued to the screen and he felt like he was stuck to the floor. Fingers knotting into the carpet as he anxiously watched. Time passed agonizingly slow, it hadn't been long, but each second you were still in there was hell. A hell that burned his chest just as yours must have been was the girl from 7 was holding you under the water. Just hold your breath, don't panic, just keep holding it as long as you can. You were an excellent swimmer, you could do this. Your body flailed about, trying to break free, but the other girl was firm in her hold. He'd sink into the bathtub himself, go overfill it and drag his head under, force the instincts to hold his breath wouldn't kick in.

Oh how the Capitol would mourn but love the tragedy of every single lover dead. The story they would tell of how heart wrenching it was. A story that wouldn't be told because you'd found the spear and quickly thrusted it upwards. A cannon echoed. You'd won. You'd come back to him. He'd be yours. You'd be his. You'd be each other's. Tears of relief, of happiness racked through his body. Fate had granted you both more time, he would forever be indebted for it. He shot up from the floor, staring at you, “I'm gonna be with you so soon, angel, right with you. Never gonna leave." He'd do whatever he could to be with you as soon as possible, to hold you once again, it was exhilarating to know the work had not been in vain. He'd have to comfort you, console you, but it would all be worth it just to be with you once again. He couldn't even dream of ever leaving your side when he had you so securely back, the one person he loved more than life itself.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Finnick thought he'd had plenty of preparation for how you might respond when you found out that he'd convinced Coin you weren't mentally stable enough yet to be on the squad. He'd done it to protect you, to make sure you were safe, but he needed to be involved. It felt like a no-brainer that he had to help really take the Capitol down, take Snow down. Your emotions made his skin bristle with cold, you were stormy, hurt, betrayed. Which he hadn't done, he responded, he'd done it to save you.

“How could you do that to me?" Your voice shook as you wiped away the tears creeping up in your waterline.

“Angel, I can't let you go out there and die. I'm just keeping you safe." He tried to get closer, if he could just touch you that could reassure you of his pure, loving intentions.

“You think I'm gonna be safe when you die out there and I'm stuck completely alone?"

“I won't die." His eyes were pleading and yours were full of a white hot rage he'd never had directed at him on full blast before.

“I went through all the same training as you, I am my own person, you don't get to make decisions for me.”

“I don't want to control you, I want to keep you safe." How could you not understand? He sighed and took a step closer, which you countered. "Honey, I don't doubt that you're getting better, but this is war and if something happens that makes you go off…” Like him dying, like you being out there with him when his soul left the binds of the planet. “You could be a danger to yourself."

“I’ll be a danger to myself here too."

“There are doctors here who can take care of you, sweet girl. Please, I love you and need you here." Finnick tried to ignore the pressure of tears building up.

“All they'll do is sedate me and I'll never recover. I have to go with you, Finnick, you can't let me rot away alone." You got closer, hands finding his face. He adored the feeling but he couldn't savor it when your eyes were digging into his, bargaining with the depths of his soul. Which would not bend, it couldn't fold to you, no matter how much he wanted to be attached to you for every waking and sleeping moment. You must have sensed this incoming rejection when your face became stony and your grip began to slip away.

He tried to pull your hands back towards him, to keep contact, “It's just a couple of weeks, then we'll be free. We can go home together, live our lives, and have our perfect family. Just one more thing I've got to do."

You fully pulled away and he grieved the loss of contact. "You're punishing me, for leaving you in the arena, you're trying to get back at me for it.”

He shook his head as quickly as he could, "No, I'm not. You were just trying to follow the plan, I don't have any grudge over that, sweet girl. You did what you had too.”

"Like how you're doing what you have too, now?” The air felt stagnant in the silence of the beat as you stared at each other. You stepped closer again, hands grabbing his arms, pleading. “I know I was terrible, that I'm terrible, but please don't punish me for it. Please, Finn, don't do this to me." His head ached, his heart ached, everything ached.

“You're not a terrible person, I love you, and you can't go."

“You promised me-" You choked for a second on the tears in your throat, “You promised you wouldn't leave me." He thought about how you'd done the same and hated himself for thinking it. That was the thinking you already assumed he had and that's what he had to fight against.

“I know and I'm sorry, honey. It won't be long." Once again you pulled your body away from his, you looked so betrayed that it felt like he'd been stabbed in the stomach. “I promise."

He felt like he watched something frightening click in your brain, “You promised last time too." Your voice was low before your hands started moving rapidly around while you spoke. “This is you trying to get into my head, they were right, but you're in my head instead. You're trying to psychologically get to me, oh my god, I get it now."

“No, no, no, no, no, no, honey, no. That's not real." Another step forward and you stumbled slightly as you quickly went backwards.

“Yes, you've been toying with me this whole time. That's why you keep pulling shit like this, you're trying to break me.” He was always digging himself into much deeper holes.

"Angel, I'm not. I'm trying to keep you safe. I swear, the stuff you're thinking, that's not true.” Your arms crossed around your chest. “This is why you can't go, this is dangerous."

“I'm not crazy!" You looked at the ground, shaking your head as the tears began falling.

He stepped closer, “Nobody's saying that, you're not crazy. I know that. You just need some more time."

“If I needed more time, why wouldn't you stay?" You pointed at him, “You are a fucking liar and I wish you'd just have killed me instead of playing mind games on me."

You moved around so frantically that he had no choice but to grab you and he wanted to die himself when you flinched and shrunk into yourself. “I don't want you dead. I'm keeping you safe, I know I lied, I didn't mean to and I am so, so sorry.” His own dam protecting him from tears had broken and he began to cry. "I will come back so we can be together forever because I love you, that's what's real. When I'm gone and you're confused, know for a fact that I love you.”

“You can't go. If you go, I have this horrible feeling something bad will happen. Please, Finn, just stay with me.” The way his chest squeezed with guilt was nearly unbearable.

"I have to go.” He whispered and the way you completely broke down made him wish he'd never gotten close enough to be the one who hurt you like this. He caught you before you hit the ground and held you close. "We have time, I've got you, sweet girl. It's okay.” He soothed, rubbing the top of your head, rocking you back and forth to try and call you down.

When it was finally time for him to, the doctors did have to sedate you. It left him with echoes in his ears of how pleaded with him and how you cried. The thought of how much he would really be betraying you if he died kept him going. Every step of the journey was thoughts of you, echoes of you. Wondering if you were still sedated and how he'd make it up to you when you could finally be together again. Free from the reign of the Capitol and together. At least you were safe in District 13, you'd be upset, but protected until the world was ready to stop reigning terror on the two of you. That was until Coin sent in the replacement members for the squad and Finnick was sure he would absolutely lose it when you and Peeta walked off the craft, straight into another set of trials and tribulations determined to tear apart his happiness.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you all so much for reading and all the fun discussions we've been having about all the details, I love you all so much. as always likes, reblogs, comments, feedback is all very very appreciated. love you all so so much 💋

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phoward89 · 2 months

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Based on this ask

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1:

It was an apple. A stupid apple that you swiped. Thinking that you'd be able to get away with it too. And you would've too, if it wasn't for some tall peacekeeper with a platinum blonde buzz cut spotting you.

Of course, he spotted you.

Because the universe hates you, left you alone to fend for yourself godforsaken District 8. Oh, gods, why, fucking why did you listen to your late brother's girlfriend and apply for a district transfer (when word that 8 was in desperate need for factory workers after a pox epidemic)? District 8 was even more depressing than 12.

At least 12 had foliage, woods and meadows. Lakes, streams, and creaks. Ways to naturally gather food. Fresh air.

District 8 had multiple textile factories that produced smog, run down tenant buildings, block and brick buildings crowding everything, and more cement than grass. The winters were cold and harsh, the snow and ice more then what 12 ever received. The river in the district had a large bridge over it, was more or less a landmark then a place to swim and fish. The water was most likely polluted from the textile factories.

All in all, 8 was miserable. And you were all alone in the district, working at a factory that made peacekeeper uniforms for a wage that was half of what you made back in 12 as an assistant in the apothecary. You lived in a small, crappy, worn down one room apartment that made your old wooden shack back in the Seam of District 12 look like the Taj Mahal.

Damn Ashlie for hooking up with a man so quickly after arriving in 8; for leaving you alone so that she could move in with the idiot.

Why would you expect to get away with stealing an apple? Not with your luck.

No…

You should've known better.

So, instead of begging to be let go for your crime, you just let the peacekeeper take you to his superior. You knew what awaited you, what your punishment would be. The angelic looking peacekeeper, dressed in blue fatigues and a coat that made his crystal blue eyes pop, had to know the fate he was taking you to. He looked to be a grunt, but you knew that peacekeepers (no matter their age) were just an extension of the Capitol’s cold, cruel, heartless rule.

So, no, unlike other thieves you didn't try to plead your way out of it. You just let yourself be led to the slaughter.

Coriolanus hated being a peacekeeper in 8. Damn that secretary in the Capitol’s PK recruitment office for refusing his bribe. If it wasn't for that stupid bitch, he'd be in 12 right now. He’d be with Lucy Gray.

But it turns out that he wasn't meant to be sent to 12 or to be with Lucy Gray. But what he was meant for was to be tortured by the presence of Sejanus Plinth. Stupid idiot willingly signed up for 20 years in the Peacekeepers; had his rich father get him stationed in the same district Coriolanus was sent to.

District 8.

Sejanus wanted to become a medic after his PK training while Coriolanus just wanted to find a way back to the Capitol. Which meant that he needed to impress his superiors and take the officer’s evaluation exam as soon as he's eligible for it.

Private Plinth wanted to make a difference while Private Snow wanted to impress everyone; rise in the ranks in order to get sent back home to the Capitol.

So, during his day off, Coriolanus wandered the streets- looking for any opportunity to exploit; to make himself look impeccable in the eyes of the higher ups on PK Base-D8.

Sejanus was making friends with the locals, which caused Coriolanus’ skin to crawl. Why would somebody willingly befriend the filthy district scum while on their day off? Then Coriolanus remembered that Sejanus might've been raised in the Capitol with more wealth then he knew what to do with, but he was District. He was from 2 and that would always make him less, make him a dirty dog.

Sejanus could mingle with his fellow district scum all he wanted, but Coriolanus wasn't going to. No, he was better than the locals here. Had no need to befriend rats.

Coriolanus was walking in the marketplace, which in his opinion was pathetic compared to the shopping area in the Capitol's downtown, when he spotted you. He thought that you were the prettiest girl he's set eyes on (including Lucy Gray) despite you being district. So, he decided to follow you.

And right when he was about to approach you, he saw you steal an apple. Coriolanus knew by how thin you are that you're probably hungry, maybe even starving (he's no stranger to hunger; him and hunger are old friends), but he couldn't let it slide. Catching you in the act of thievery while on his day off will get him looked at favorably by his superiors. It'll be an opportunity to make a great impression.

So, Coriolanus went over to you and grabbed your arm. You looked up at him with wide eyes, realizing that you got caught. And Coriolanus couldn't help, but think that you had beautiful eyes.

But he'd worry about gazing into them later, like after he's done turning you in.

Reaching into the pocket of your coat, which was thin and worn with patches on it, he dryly said, “Did you forget to pay for your apple, pretty thief?”

You didn't say a word, just gnawed on your bottom lip as he held the apple in his hands- inspecting it. It was red, but not very large. In fact, Coriolanus felt that the apple was of poor quality. You must've been desperate to snatch such a small piece of fruit.

The fruit merchant, whose back was turned when you took the apple, turned around just in time to see the platinum peacekeeper put the apple back onto the large pile it was taken from before escorting you off.

In District 12 there's a whipping post where people are tied to for floggings, but District 8 didn't have one of those. No, in District 8 a thief was made to strip (naked) and kneel in the snow while being whipped for their crime.

It was a very humiliating, degrading, and painful experience.

After your lashing was done, the peacekeeper that did it just laughed and tossed his whip on the blood stained snow next to you. You could hear the hushed pity filled whispers of the people around you as you lay on the snow, crying and in pain from your ordeal.

Your body hurts so bad. A hot pain is seering thru you as blood rolls down your back from all the open wounds left from the lashes. Your blood drips on the snow and all you can think of is how are you going to get up; get home? You can barely move and nobody's going to move an inch or lift a finger to help you.

You've been whipped for being a thief, you're poison to the citizens of 8. They'll never look at you the same way again. You were dumb enough to get caught; that means you're a liability.

“Come on, get up, darling.” You heard the peacekeeper, who had turned you in, say while crouching next to you. He helped you sit up, causing you to let out a blood curdling scream of pain.

His icy blue eyes flickered with what you thought was a mix of concern and guilt as he quickly draped his coat over you. The heavy roughness of the wool painfully scratches your open wounds, causing you to let out another painful cry.

You could feel the eyes of the district onlookers piercing into you as the peacekeeper picked you up bridal style; carrying you away from the crimson stained Snow and your pile of clothes. The crowd parts, like the parting of the seas, when the tall, platinum blonde peacekeeper walked towards the exit of the main square, where punishments were given out.

“Where am I taking you?” He asked, holding you close to him as your bleeding back stained his coat.

“Third building on 16th Street.” You told him, voice shaking from the pain.

“Stop whining, I'll get you home and cleaned up soon enough.”

“Should I be thanking you? It's your fault I got whipped so badly.”

“Well, maybe if you didn’t steal we wouldn’t of had this issue, now would we?” The pretty boy peacekeeper condescendingly asked while continuing to carry you home. “Don't do this again; I won't always be available to take care of you afterwards.”

What the hell?!...

Is he serious? What is he, a delusional sadist? He's the reason your back’s torn to shreds, he's the one that turned you in, but now he wants to take care of you. Even has the nerve to tell you not to get whipped again, because he might be too busy to help you.

What the hell’s wrong with this angelic looking devil of a man?

Coriolanus noticed how you looked at him with puzzlement in your beautiful eyes. He also noticed how pain was etched on your face. It sent a small pang of guilt into his chest, but he also felt something else. Just like the night he killed Bobbin in the arena, he felt powerful. Yes, he felt powerful that it was him that caused you pain. That by doing his job as a peacekeeper he was able to hold your fate in his hands. He also felt powerful knowing that he's the one that’s helping you; that’ll clean your wounds and bandage you up.

And the feeling of having power over you was euphoric to him. So, he decided to make you his girl in order to keep that power; that feeling he gets when exerting that power over you.

“You'll be safe with me, darling. I'll take care of you.” Coriolanus promised, only to add in. “What's your name, my pretty girl?”

His pretty girl? Is he for real right now? Oh boy… Only you would have a peacekeeper staking his claim on you after getting you whipped for thievery. If only your older brother was alive right now, he'd be laughing his ass off at your shitty luck.

“Y/N Halvir.” You simply answered, silently praying that your apartment would appear soon.

“I'm Coriolanus Snow, but you can call me Coryo since you're my girl now.” Coryo smiled at you. A smile that was too wide, showed off too many pearly white teeth, and seemed to be wicked.

You're his girl now, all because he caught you stealing an apple? Talk about a strange turn of events…

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gallifreyanhotfive · 4 months

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Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know, Part 4

While trying to figure out how Jenny was the Fifth Doctor's daughter, the Nine suggested he might be her father or her mother.

The Nun once shot and imprisoned the Tenth Doctor on her TARDIS, using a psychic shroud to take on his appearance temporarily before "regenerating" into her own body.

The Eighth Doctor has traveled with both a Cyberman and an Ice Warrior before (albeit not at the same time).

Jasper and Stewart are a pair of Fledershrews (a type of bat) that took residence in the TARDIS. The Doctor considered them to be good friends.

The Doctor had at least one grandfather and seven grandmothers.

Horses can be cyber-converted.

The Seventh Doctor took Ace back in time to kill the would-be dictator as well, but they were also unable to go through with it.

At the same time the Fifteenth Doctor and Ruby were dealing with goblins (24/12/2023), the Seventh Doctor and Ace were in a Los Angeles toyshop.

Wilfred Mott enlisted while he was still underage.

Orlando Bloom stars in Indiana Jones movie remakes.

Sam Jones knew what the Doctor's name is.

By some accounts, the Doctor removed his name from time, meaning only they and the Master (as well as anyone they later told) remembered it.

Ian Chesterton was taught how to ride a horse by Alexander the Great.

The TARDIS once dematerialized with a Nazi (played by David Tennant) half in, half out, leading to his incredibly gruesome death.

On Harmony, an idyllic planet, the locals harvested any visitors for food as the other animals had all died out.

Sometimes, the Doctor has worked to actively change history, like the time the Second Doctor tried to save Horatio Nelson from dying in the Battle of Trafalgar.

As the First Doctor regenerated into the Second, the TARDIS also somewhat regenerated, shrinking around fifteen centimeters.

River Song has eleven siblings such as Brooke, Stream, Lake, Creek, H-One, H-Two, O, etc. All of them are clones created by Madame Kovarian from River's DNA.

Speaking of River, she's been married to both Bernice Summerfield and Jack Harkness before.

Amy Pond was once mutated into an almost butterfly-like creature.

The Master does not like David Attenborough.

At one point, the most wanted criminal in the galaxy was the Master, and the Rani was second most wanted.

Snow White and the Seven Keys to Doomsday was a Gallifreyan bedtime story the Eleventh Doctor recalled enjoying.

In this story, Rassilon would ask the Matrix daily: "Matrix, Matrix that sees over all, who has the power to make Gallifrey fall?" The Matrix would always respond with: "Only you, oh Rassilon. Only you, through the Eye of Harmony have that power." One day, the Matrix added: "Snowana the Fair, using the Keys of Doomsday, she has the power to destroy all of Gallifrey." Rassilon was greatly angered by this and banished Snowana to the wastelands, expecting her to die, but instead, she grew into Snow White. Selendor had created a great weapon that could be used to destroy cities and fashioned seven keys to it, one for each sin of the Time Lords. He gave one key to Snow White expecting her to get some revenge, but she instead ran away and created a force field around her and the keys. Selendor died of grief for his lost keys

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28

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notapradagurl7 · 6 months

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Back To You.

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @planetblaque @wide-nose-and-wonderful @soft-persephone @henneseyhoe @hxneyclouds

Pairing: Franklin Saint x Black chruchgoer! / Plus Size Fem!Reader.

Word Count: 3,499k.

Warning: cheating, dirty talk, spanking, exhibition kink, soft Franklin, dominant reader, oral, (male receiving) a submissive Franklin, praise, begging, raw sex, (wrap it up) size kink.

Summary: After ending the relationship with Franklin on the same night he murdered Kevin, he got out of jail, he realized that he had gained control of everything except for the fact that he needed you back. Upon returning, he discovered that you had become a committed churchgoer and were torn between him and your boyfriend who was a youth pastor. However, Franklin wasted no time in proving you're still his.

—————

The night remains etched in your memory, as if it happened just yesterday. The streets of Los Angeles South Central were lit up by red and blue sirens. Tears welled up in your eyes, streaming down your cheeks and mixing with the taste of salt, as you helplessly watched Franklin being taken away from you by police officer Wright. As you stood outside, a brisk and cold wind brushed against your skin. The ink black-sky shimmered with myriad shiny stars. The bright orange glow from the streetlights illuminated the neighborhood.

Amidst this heart-wrenching scene, you tightly hugged his mother, finding solace as she wept, her tears leaving stains on your gray tee shirt and shorts. You stared intensely at the police car as it drove away, its dark blue color reflecting in your deep brown eyes. You longed for this to just be a bad dream, but it was all too real.

You were aware that you had mentioned waiting for him until he came back, but you couldn't sustain the commitment. Instead, you resorted to sending him a couple of letters to update him on your life.

However, he always seemed to have an uncanny ability to find out everything. He was too intelligent to be oblivious, wasn't he?

Franklin softly pushed the brown double doors and they shut loudly behind him. all eyes were drawn to Franklin, causing a collective gasp among the church attendees. Even the choir halted their singing. Franklin gracefully maneuvered through the group of black women, who instinctively made way for him, as if he were Moses walking through the Red Sea that God parted for him.

Franklin's gaze fixed on you as he noticed your conversation with a tall young man, with his smooth brown skin and deep brown eyes. The brown-skinned male with you was clad in a deep blue blazer and matching dress pants, sleek black slim-heeled loafers. It was evident that he was around your age, as his radiant smile met your presence. Unexpectedly, the young man tenderly pecked your knuckles, his actions not going unnoticed by Franklin's watchful eyes.

As Franklin's intense gaze met his, the young man returned the fearful stare. Franklin recalled his name, having conversed with Jermone about him before. He was none other than Xavier.

He carefully observed your attire as you wore a maroon cream colored blazer and a matching pencil skirt, which accentuated your curves. Additionally, your raven box braids were tied up in a ponytail. The church folk were astounded, their eyes grew wider, and the whole church fell into a hushed silence, as if witnessing Satan's unexpected entry into heaven, without seeking God's approval.

Amidst the embrace of walnut wood pews, adorned with plush red cushions, you spun around on your heels, gazing upon the majestic sight before you. Your brown eyes fixated on the man stepping toward you with a sly grin curled upon on his beautiful face, Below your jet-black heels, the brown hardwood floors. A pair of sturdy brown doors beckoned towards the outside world, while the four snow-white walls enclosed this sacred sanctuary.

He was standing before you, and it was hard to grasp the fact; that he was still so handsome. His rich dark skin was beautiful, and his lips remained full and tempting, inviting a gentle nibble. The divine touch of The Creator was evident in Franklin's form, leaving you silently speechless.

He had not changed out of his deep blue collared tee shirt paired with sleek black pants, crisp white Adidas shoes, and black socks.

“F-Franklin?…” you spoke softly in confusion, your gaze lingering on his.

You approached him, encircling his slender waist tightly with your arms, experiencing the comforting touch of his embrace against your skin. In response, Franklin reciprocated with a gentle smile and replicated the same gesture. embodying a familiar warmth you thought you would never feel again.

“Hey Y/N, I've missed you," Franklin whispered, his voice filled with genuine emotion, as he pulled you closer into his embrace. Resting his chin atop your head.

"I missed you too, Franklin and how are you?" you asked in delighted tone, your voice slightly muffled against his chest.

Franklin chuckled softly, his warm breath tickling the top of your head and moved his head to take a look at you, "I've been good, handlin’ business as usual.” he grinned, his eyes sparkling with a mischievous glimmer.

Xavier cleared his throat as he watched the two of you from across the room, a small frown formed on his lips. He could sense the magnetic connection between you and Franklin, and it made him uneasy.

But Xavier knew better than to interfere, he strolled casually over to join the pastor near the red cushioned pews.

“Is there someplace else we can talk?” Franklin asked softly, aware of the number of eyes on the both of you.

“Of course, we can talk at my place..” you suggested, your voice filled with both anticipation and uncertainty.

As you both exited the church, a leisurely stroll ensued down the sidewalk. Paying no mind to the eyes following both of you, your steps instinctively veered right on the concrete pathway to your door, guiding you up the solid concrete steps. The rhythmic click of your shoes resonated on the chilly surface as you halted in front of your cherished home.

Retrieving your keys from within your black tote purse, you deftly inserted them into the keyhole and turned them with a slight jingle. your free hand rotated the brass doorknob and gingerly pushed the door ajar, granting both of you passage into the warmth and comfort of your home.

"Make yourself at home Frankie," you added, shattering the stillness as your voice resonated. you closed the door behind you with a gentle click. enveloping the room in a comforting embrace.

He smiled to himself at the nickname you'd called him from when he was younger. As he stepped into your house, a wave of familiarity washed over him. The warm chocolate brown and toffee decor greeted him, instantly making him feel at home.

The air was filled with the aroma of vanilla and rosemary, lingering from the extinguished candles. The brown couch sat proudly, facing a sleek television, inviting him to relax and unwind. under the brown hardwood floors and carpeted rug.

The walls were adorned with a soothing toffee hue, a snapshot of the two of you, captured in the innocence of youth and the bliss of love, before that fateful night that changed everything.

“I got the letters you sent to me while I was in the pen, you wrote how you missed me and wished I would've stayed with you that night…” Franklin mentioned softly, his eyes locked on you.

You knew it was already too late when you assured him that things would be fine - you couldn't stop yourself from begging him to stay, because any slight deviation and he would be out of your grasp. Unable to endure the waiting any longer, you missed him. Franklin wanted to keep you away from his drug trade.

Although you weren't entirely innocent, you were aware of his involvement in drug dealing and his retention of Leon as a protector.

You took a seat on the armrest of the couch and faced him, “Why didn’t you stay with me Franklin? I know you did what you needed to done but I could've helped you or protected you…” you pleaded with a shaky voice, your hand resting on your chest.

You took a seat on the armrest of the couch and faced him, your face softened upon gazing at his beautiful face. Fuck, he was so handsome.

"Franklin, why didn’t you stay with me? I understand you had your reasons, but I could have helped or protected you..." you implored, your voice quivering with emotion, your hand instinctively finding solace on your chest.

“I’m the one who’s supposed to protect you Y/N, I didn’t want you in this shit, if Kevin would've listened to me then maybe things would've been different. But I can't change what happened," Franklin sighed, his voice heavy with regret.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to his words. The pain and regret in his voice were palpable, and it tore at your heart.

Franklin hesitated briefly, inhaling unsteadily, before locking his gaze upon you. He moved nearer to where you were perched on the armrest, raising his index finger to lift your chin.

His deep brown eyes met yours, using the pads of his thumbs to softly brush away the tears that almost trickled down your face. "I hate to see you cry like this, especially when it's because of me," he whispered, his voice filled with genuine remorse.

He cradled your face softly, feeling immense sadness as he witnessed your tears, observing how the shiny streaks of tears marked your beautiful brown complexion.

You looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of deception. But all you saw was raw vulnerability and love. It was a risk, but you couldn't deny the pull you felt towards him.

"I still have a boyfriend, Franklin," you admitted, your voice trembling a bit with uncertainty. "He's a youth pastor at the church."

Franklin's thumbs swiped over your cheeks, his eyes pleading with you. "Y/N, I know I messed up. I know I hurt you. But I can be the man you deserve. Just give me a chance."

You took a deep breath, feeling torn between the two men in your life. But deep down, you knew that your heart still belonged to Franklin. He was a part of you, and no matter how hard you tried to move on, you couldn't deny the love you still felt for him.

“We both know that I'm the one you want to be with, not that church boy..” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion.

You let out a small sigh, your voice filled with a mix of frustration and affection.

"Franklin, Fine, I'll give you a chance. But you better not fuck this up again, or I swear I'll kick your ass."

Franklin chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh, trust me, Y/N, I've learned my lesson. And if I do, you have my permission to kick my ass all the way to Timbuktu."

You feel a sense of relief wash over you, As you moved closer to kiss him, your lips effortlessly moved over his full lips, which felt gentle, moist, and comforting, as you gently nibbled on his lower lip. The room was filled with the gentle smack of your lips meeting his.

He tasted the sweet mango flavor of your lip gloss, a low moan escaped his lips. You playfully nibbled on his teeth once more. weight of the past seemed to fade away, replaced by a glimmer of lust.

“I missed you so much..” you whispered, your voice barely audible against the hushed ambiance of the room. Before kissing your forehead, Franklin sank into the plush, brown suede couch, his arms casually draped over the headrest.

"I'm here now, come closer," he invited, his voice taking on a seductive tone. It had a low, husky rasp that sent shivers down your spine. His hands skillfully unbuckled his sleek black belt, his teeth gently biting his bottom lip in anticipation.

You sauntered over to the couch, a mischievous grin playing on your lips. Standing before him, you watched as his pants and boxers slid down his legs. His dick sprung free from the deep blue fabric and stood at attention, his sheer length made your cheeks grow hot, “Aww, you're so big..” you cooed, you pecked the tip of his dick. You heard him say 'fuck' under his breath.

His discarded pants landed softly on the rug, while his hands swiftly removed his shirt, throwing it across the room.

Meanwhile, you unbuttoned your shirt slowly, savoring the anticipation. The sound of the buttons coming undone mingled with the soft rustle of fabric as you unzipped your skirt. Your clothes gracefully cascaded onto the carpet, joining his in a heap of liberation.

“Aww, did you get this big for me?” you cooed amusingly, your tongue grazing your fully glossed lips.

Your hand stroked his length with the veins of his dick protruding against your fingerprints, Franklin threw his head back onto the plush cushion as his hands instinctively gripped the headrest of the soft couch, “Y-yes I-it’s all for you. I promise..” he moaned raspily, He thrusts his hips into your hand. In desperate need of friction.

You watched his glossy precum seep from his slit, and your tongue eagerly tasted it that flowed, eliciting a moan of pleasure from you.

“Good boy, you taste so good just like I remember..” you praised, cradling his face in your hand.

His hips buckled forward in your hand, his moans escaped in raspy breaths and a flurry of ‘fuck’ spilled from his lips. Your tongue flicked along the tip of his manhood as your other fingers gently caressed and played with his balls, causing a trickle of saliva to cascade down to his wetted balls.

"you look so pretty like this.."

With deliberate movements, you circled your index and middle fingers between his wet balls, eliciting a hitched gasp from his lips. "Please, fuck me baby," he pleaded, his voice filled with need. Your gaze met his, witnessing his face scrunched up in pleasure and the tightening of his balls between your fingers.

“I want to hear you beg for it baby..” you mumbled, taking him in your mouth. Your head bopped up and down on his length gradually, moaning around him.

“Please fuck me..” he moaned again, his lips quivered in response.

“Again..” you urged on, stroking his length faster with your spit sticking to your palm.

“Baby girl, I want you to fuck me… please!” he groaned, his brows knitted together in pleasure.

Franklin desired friction and sought to feel your walls around him, his dick slick with your saliva. He encouraged you with hoarse cries to intensify your suction, as your cheeks formed a hollow around his penis.

Franklin craved you like a drug, he watched your saliva trickle and coat his dick. His gravelly moans urged you to suck harder, you moaned around him. Just as his dick reached the back of your throat, a prolonged, breathless moan escaped him, his hand pushed your head deeper. “Just like that, oh fuckk..” he groaned again.

The pinnacle of pleasure drew near for him, evident in the way his face scrunching up. As his warm ropes of cum erupted onto your tongue, you instinctively swallowed every ounce. The intoxicating sound of his whispered praises enveloped you, heating your skin and electrifying your thighs as you pressed them together.

You pulled away from his dick with a wet pop, You made him struggle for breath, his chest rising and falling as you gasped for air. you took a seat onto the couch, you chuckled at Franklin, “You’re such a nasty woman..” He chuckled with a grin, pecking your lips twice.

You were lying comfortably on the couch, while Franklin turned around as he hovered over you, gently pulled off your mismatched pink underwear and playfully tossed them across the living room, as your back reclined against the soft cushions. He unhooked your black bra, causing your full breasts to sag gently, while his tongue glided over his full lips.

"You're so beautiful Frankie," You whispered to him gently, while your thumb caressed his cheek tenderly, his lips planted a warm kiss on your palm.

Franklin showered your knuckles with affectionate kisses, savoring each gentle touch of his full lips as he adoringly locked eyes with you.

“Not as beautiful as you..” he whispered, his voice filled with adoration.

“oh f-fuck..Frankie..” you moaned lowly, your hand resting on the nape of his neck, feeling more of his warm mouth around your nipple. He watched you break apart in pleasure underneath him and put back together in bliss.

Franklin's hands gently cupped your breasts, bringing them closer together. Leaning down, he delicately flicked his tongue against your nipple, causing it to respond eagerly.

He enveloped your areola in his mouth, suckling it with care. Simultaneously, his other hand massaged your other breast, leaving a trail of saliva on your now-sensitive nipple. Overwhelmed with pleasure, “Oh shit, Franklin…” you kneed lowly.

Your hand rested on the back of his neck as his warm mouth continued to rub between your sensitive peaks. As he observed your body shaking, he reveled in the joy of bringing you both pleasure and contentment.

“You're still mine?” you asked playfully, a smirk curled up.

“All yours, gorgeous..” he replied with a grin, there he goes again. Showing off his handsomeness.

He tenderly pushed his dick between your labial folds, causing you to let out a soft gasp of pleasure. Franklin filled you completely, and you instinctively held onto his shoulders for stability. Sensing your reaction, he paused, his concerned gaze fixed upon you.

"Are you okay?" he asked gently. You nodded, your voice barely a whisper. "Y-yes..." you whimpered. In response, he lovingly kissed your tears away and your lips twice, expressing his affection.

He resumed thrusting with an intense desire, fully immersing himself in the moment. Leaning closer, he observed your face scrunched up, as your essence enveloped his member, saturating the cushions beneath your thighs. Your fleshly walls embraced him tightly, providing a perfect fit. "Does he fuck you like this?" he whispered hoarsely, his thumb pinched your sensitive nub, now coated with your arousal. He moaned again, overwhelmed by the warmth of your pussy.

He swiftly turned you over and spanked your ass, admiring the jiggle as he firmly held your asscheek in his hand. “Would it turn you on if he saw getting fucked like this?” he asked, watching himself fuck you deeper, you gasped in response. Meanwhile, he continued thrusting into you from behind and planted tender kisses along your back.

"Does he?"

Your hands cradled his face, drawing him nearer. "Oh god, no he doesn't.." you whined, mentally consumed with thoughts of him filling you completely with his essence. Franklin desired to fuck you so profoundly that Xavier would fade from your mind.

He intensified his movements as your loud moans echoed, resembling as if you were dying. ”I know he doesn't..” he groaned lowly, He threw his head back.

Your stomach was tied in knots with your nails clawed at his back once his tip kissed your cervix over and over again, “I-i’m so close..” you whined, your mouth went ajar before you could utter a peep. Your essence gushed around his dick completely, “that’s my girl..” he spoke with pride.

He gradually withdrew from you as both of you stood up from the current position, After painting your tummy white with his warm cum onto your stomach, Franklin wiped away the remnants of his essence using a moist green washcloth from the nearby closet. In a state of exhaustion, he panted heavily. He threw the washcloth in the hamper.

You were certain that you heard enchanting melodies from angels resonating in your ears, although your physical presence was in the living room with Franklin. You understood the need to inform Xavier, but for the present, you could savor this instant spent with Franklin.

"You're gonnna leave that church boy right?" he teased, his smile curled up.

He nestled his face affectionately in the curve of your neck while Franklin snuggled up to you. "Yeah, i just gotta find a way to tell him..." you whispered softly, your voice barely audible.

Both of you held each other tightly, wrapping your arms around each other, as he lovingly kissed your warm brown skin.

—————

#black!reader #black fanfic writer #18+ only #franklin saint #black!fem!reader #damson idris #snowfall fx #snowfall #Franklin Saint fic

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citruslullabies · 2 months

Note

For some reason I want to see Dogday x Reader angst, Basically the reader finds something that reminds them of their dead kid And yeah, they just get really emotional

Mother is feeding you all angst again

Trigger warnings: heavy mentions of death

Romantic/platonic: unspecified

Requested by: anonymous

Category: angst with fluff

Ship (romantic or platonic): Dogday x grieving parent!reader

Word count: 371

Tear-Stained Blankie

After you had saved Dogday and the others, you went home to your isolated cabin in the beautiful forest you adored. You were going through your old belongings while talking to Dogday, your speech faltering when you came across it.

Josie’s blanket. She used to never leave the house without it, not unless you coerced her into doing so if you were going out for dinner or something. Your shaky hands grabbed it before you could even think about it, hands delicately tracing the fabric and designs of Snow White. It was faded, but still so clearly there.. your fingers traced along the stains of juice and food.

You hadn't even realized that you were beginning to cry, leading to Dogday’s worry. He frowned and approached you, putting a hand on your shoulder. “Angel? What's wrong?” He asked tenderly, seeing the blanket and immediately realizing that this must have been the issue.

You still remembered it like it was yesterday. You still remembered how you let her go outside to play since you lived in the forest, it was only natural for your baby girl to want to climb the trees and have fun outside. But she didn't come home, the last time you had seen her alive was her telling you she'd be outside playing with her Blankie and you saying alright. But then you saw her pretty little face cold and pale a week later, in the river stream of the forest with her Blankie. You had got to keep it after investigations were made.

You sniffled and hugged her snow white blanket close and tight, despite it having been years ago you could still smell that awful river. No matter how many times you washed it and sprayed it with her hairspray so it'd smell like her. The smell never went away.

Dogday carefully pulled you close and rubbed your back, shushing you and frowning softly at the sight. “Angel.. angel, it's alright.. it'll be alright.” He spoke kindly, letting you sob into his fur as you were desperate for your little girl in your arms again.

He would wait until you were calm for you to tell him, for now, you just needed to let it all out.

Thank you for requesting!

#dogday #smiling critters #dogday x y/n #dogday x reader #poppy’s playtime x reader #dogday poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime

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prettypeppermint · 8 months

Text

crane's paradox.

for dr. j. crane.

The water dribbled down your back like tear tracks, shushing your steamed and tender skin. He moved the showerhead in methodical circles against your rosy shoulder blades, large hands pilfering at your kelpy locks.

He sat on a stool adjacent to the tub, loving you with water--a language of change.

Despite the serenity taking place behind you, the scene before you was one of demented horrors--every irrational terror rationalized before your eyes. The water was black and bottomless, ostensibly swallowing your naked body up--oxidizing your skin and fermenting your organs. Your legs twitched periodically, trying to feel for the confines of the tub but getting continuously tricked by a vast emptiness. Faces emerged from the depths, twisted and morphed into something barely human. They groped at your waist and chest, each hand a searing blaze against your flesh.

The water rippled frantically as your every fiber trembled, frozen in a rock-solid state of shock. You couldn't blink.

The more he washed, the more blood trickled down the various valleys and edges of your form, swirling with the ridges of each tiny stream that eroded at your scalp, your back, your face. Ghosts of self-inflicted clawing stung your face.

Jonathan was wordless--a silent force of love. You didn't even realize he was there with you. You often felt alone, even in love. But feeling alone in fear was an entirely new feeling of dread.

"You were a bad girl today, angel.” The words barely permeated your foggy skull before you realized he was lifting you out of the water, “Bad girls need treatment so that they can be good again." He cradled your languid figure against his chest, drops of rose-tinted water leaking from your calves and the tips of your toes as they dangled across the nook of his elbow.

"I'm so very sorry it all turned out this way," he cooed, setting you down on the foot of his bed--the crisp snow hills of his duvet. He towered over you as he brought a towel to your locks and began drying them off with the touch of a feather. "But when you go exploring in forbidden places against my orders"--he makes his way down, patting each arm dry before wiping down your breasts--"you'll end up getting hurt."

Your eyes were forlorn and affixed on a faraway place, hallucinations still warping themselves into the tendrils of his hair and the wall behind him as he moved. He began dressing you in a set of white, lacy undergarments he had picked out for you prior. "And you know how much I detest seeing my angel hurt."

He slid the material up your legs and hoisted them over your hips with a trained dexterity. After clasping the brassiere between the place where your shoulder blades would kiss, he leaned down to press his tongue to the crest of your shoulder. Your skin was still radiating a firey warmth from the bath.

"But isn't something about it so thrilling? The thin membrane that separates fear and desire? The cerebrum keeps the left and right brain from ever touching, yet in doing so it maintains the unabridged function of the brain as one; they communicate through proximate isolation. Funny, isn't it? How that slim distance maintains the entire equilibrium--the entire function of the organ. Tell me, my love--would there be a Thisbe and Pyramus without the wall that separated their passion for each other? It's fascinating--the way in which the truest form of love prevails in the slimmest, most dire times of pain and fear. Oh, how I adore seeing you like this--at the mercy of my creation. So perfect--so effortlessly lovely and delicate even in this state of absolute terror.

"Let me love you--let me ease the pain out of you. Let me break the membrane that separates us, and we can join as one."

The last words grazed the chill of your earlobe as his breath teased at your pulse. You weren't sure when he'd wrapped his arms around you and locked you against his torso, but you began unraveling in his firmness. Your tensed muscles relaxed, and the visions began to subside. You saw them dissipating from the air; like mist having gone from an autumn morning before the leaves and birds awoke to notice the absence of the chill; like water swirling down the drain.

"I'm scared," you managed to croak. It came out dry and barely intelligible from hours of coaxed silence. He embedded shushes into the crown of your head.

This wasn't the work of the toxin; it was the hollow pit of desolation it left you with afterward.

"Jonathan, I'm scared," you repeated. The last consonant got lodged in your throat as a stifled cry scraped its way out before it. It was a foreign sort of comfort--crying into his skin and melting against his hold. "I'm so scared. What did you do to me?"

But Jonathan didn't do anything to you; it was you who snuck into his lab despite the rules he set for you. It was you who walked into an untimely experiment of torture on Scarecrow's most recent lab rat.

He pulled you into a kiss, the span of his fingers stretching around the entire back of your head. It was soft yet hungry, yearning yet kind. You seemed to be caught in all sorts of dichotomies today.

"You know I would never lay a finger on you," he muttered against your lower lip, "You're too soft--too delicate. As long as you're with me, I promise nothing will ever hurt you again.

"Now let me take care of you," he lulled, gently laying you back against the cool sheets, "Let Doctor treat you."

His lips gently ghosted the thin skin above your belly button before he looked up at you with an almost alienating, stoic countenance. "Say it."

Something went cold in the blue of his eyes--a shadow cast by a passing cloud.

"Please," you whispered, "Please fix me, Doctor."

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corroded-hellfire · 1 year

Text

Where The Heart Is, Part 3 - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Christmas is getting closer, and your and Eddie’s relationship only grows stronger as you prepare for and enjoy the festivities together. You can read part two here!

Note: Merry Christmas! I would just like to apologize for any more errors than normal because I tried to rush this to be done by Christmas lol.

Warnings: underage drinking, smut, oral m!receiving

Words: 17.4k

[Where the Heart Is masterlist]

Wayne has to know what’s going on. There’s no way he could not know, with the way the two of you are constantly touching one another, giggling at whispered words, and the ever-present grins that have never come off your faces. He’s not a dumb man, and he knows what’s going on in that small back bedroom in his trailer. He also knows that Eddie’s a smart kid and that there’s a box of condoms in the bedside table right where Wayne told him to keep it.

And though Wayne hasn’t known you long, he can tell you’re a smart kid, too. The way you make Eddie smile is all he ever wished for his nephew. Wayne’s a proud uncle and knows he brought the boy up right when he sees him open doors for you, compliment you until you’re red in the face, or makes sure that you know you’re welcome in their home and to help yourself to anything. Wayne likes you. And he can see that Eddie clearly more than likes you.

One evening before Wayne has to head out to work, you and Eddie come in the front door, shopping bags in hand - Eddie being the gentleman and carrying most of them, of course - both with rosy cheeks from the winter air, laughing as you have some silly debate.

Wayne swears he’s never seen so many Christmas decorations before as you and Eddie unload them from the bags. There’s candy cane striped garland, snowman salt and pepper shakers, nutcrackers dressed in toy soldier attire, angel candle holders, snowflakes hanging from strings to be hung in the window, and even a small porcelain nativity set that sits perfectly on the counter. Wayne’s sure he’s never seen a more beautiful decoration in his life as he admires the mini baby Jesus asleep on the fragile yellow painted hay. He knows that when he comes home from work, the trailer will be a winter wonderland.

But Wayne hadn’t even seen the ornaments that the two of you had purchased. There were baubles in bright reds, purples, and pinks. Little golden bells, smiling elves, even an adorable tiny kitten wearing a Santa hat that you just needed to buy. The ornaments would stay in the bag for now though, since you hadn’t gotten the tree yet.

Since the dark of night came so early in the winter, putting lights up outside would have to wait until tomorrow, so you two would actually be able to see what you’re doing.

It was the end of a fun, cold day that you’d spent with Eddie.

“Hot chocolate?” Eddie asks.

“Mm, yes please,” you hum. As Eddie prepares the drinks, you walk over to the window and look out at the dark evening. If the orange streetlights weren’t so bright, you’d be able to see the stars since there wasn’t a single cloud above.

The hot chocolate is hot and comforting as you sip it while in Eddie’s arms on the couch. He sips on his own, coming away with a chocolate mustache each time. There’s no television, no music, just the two of you sitting in a cozy bubble, enjoying your drinks and each other’s company. Once the drinks are finished however, you two enjoy each other's company in a different, more naked way.

In the morning, once you’d thoroughly wrecked each other once again, you take a shower - together, to save water Eddie claims. But you can’t fault him for his idea while the hot water streams down your back and Eddie leaves scorching kisses on your lips and neck.

Finally putting clothes on that you intend to keep on for a while, you bundle up to face the bitter air outside. There’s a light dusting of snow on the ground as you and Eddie head outside, arms full of light strands. You untangle the mess of extension cords while Eddie drags out the ladder from behind the trailer. It’s tall enough to get Eddie on the roof, which was the goal. Carefully holding the handle of the staple gun in his mouth, Eddie climbs up, a string of lights hoisted on his shoulder.

Eddie’s been on the roof of the trailer many times in his life. Once even resulting in a broken arm. So he knows the perfect spot to start hanging the lights. You watch him work as your fingers move through the tangled wires. Bundled up in his leather jacket, boots, black jeans, the red scarf you insisted on buying him, and his adorable black beanie, he’s just about the most precious thing you’ve ever seen. As he gets down on his knees, ready to staple the strand of lights into place, his tongue pokes out of his mouth in concentration. It makes you giggle softly to yourself.

Eddie continues with the strands along the roof and you start connecting the plugs to everything once the cord situation is handled. By the time you’re both done, lights are hanging off the top of the trailer, framing the front door, and wrapping around the railings on the porch steps. A triumphant smile comes to your lips as you look at the cozy trailer all festive. Eddie wraps his arm around your shoulders as he takes in the view, too.

“Can't tell ya the last time this place had Christmas lights on it,” Eddie says, eyes still roaming around.

“Why?” you ask.

Eddie shrugs.

“Never seemed to matter. Christmas was never a big thing for us. Wayne and I get each other a present, exchange them, then the rest of the day goes about the same as any other day.”

“No Christmas dinner?” you ask.

“Sometimes,” he says. “It depended on Wayne’s schedule. We’d eat fish if he was home.”

“Fish?” you ask, nose wrinkling.

“Mhmm,” he affirms. “My grandmother - my dad and Wayne’s mom - was very Italian. It’s an Italian tradition to have the Feast of Seven Fishes on Christmas Eve. But it became mine and Wayne’s tradition to take one of his catches from the lake and cook it up for Christmas dinner.”

“That’s sweet,” you tell him, snaking your arms around his middle.

“What about you?” he asks. “How do you decorate your apartment?”

“Can’t put up lights outside, unfortunately, but I always get a nice wreath for our door.”

“Like that one.” Eddie nods to the pine wreath woven with red ribbon that’s hanging on the front door of the trailer. Another one of your purchases yesterday.

“Yeah, usually something like that. Then we’d have the tree in the living room, but that’s about it. I’d put up lights in my room, though. I’d hang them all around, watching them blink and twinkle as I fell asleep.”

“What about your Christmas dinners?” he asks.

“When I was little, they were pretty perfect. Four of us around the table in our house in the cutest suburb. There’d be chicken and mashed potatoes, and I always insisted on biscuits. But after Dad died, sis left, it was just me and mom in the tiny apartment. Christmas dinners became meatloaf if I could scrounge up enough ingredients around the kitchen. If I couldn’t? Maybe canned soup if there was any.”

Eddie presses kisses to the top of your head and opens his mouth to speak, when he’s cut off by a shout from behind you.

“Looking to connect with someone, Munson?”

Over your shoulder, you see Max bundled up in a hoodie, coming your way.

“What?” Eddie asks her as she comes to stand behind you.

“The lights,” she says, nodding her head at them. “Gonna talk with someone?”

Your brow is pinched in confusion until you remember what Nancy told you about Will communicating through the lights when he was in the Upside Down.

“No, just being festive, brat,” Eddie says.

“Hey,” Max says to you, a small smile on her face.

“Nice to see you again,” you tell her.

“You too. You here for Christmas?”

“I’m here until school starts back up again in January.”

“Really? That’s awesome.” Max looks genuinely happy that you’ll be around, and it warms your heart. “I can always hang out with you when Van Halen over here has to work.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and drops his arm from your shoulders.

“That sounds great to me,” you say and Eddie scoffs.

“She’s a horrible influence,” Eddie says, gesturing to Max. The redhead doesn’t deny it, just shrugs her shoulders.

“I think I’ll be okay,” you tell your boyfriend, patting him on the shoulder.

Late that afternoon, Eddie drives the two of you up to the tree farm, where families stroll through the rows of pines, trying to find the one that’s just right for their home. Hand in hand with Eddie, the two of you take your time walking around the small space. The scent of pine is overloading your senses and you think you’ll be able to smell it for a month after you leave this place.

The perfect tree for the Munson home is found in the back corner. It’s tucked away, two bigger pines trying to hide it from view. But Eddie catches sight of it first. He tugs you in the direction and reluctantly drops your hand so he can move offending brushes out of the way. The tree is the perfect size for the trailer. It’s full, needles dark and green. An employee helps you both load the tree onto the top of Eddie’s van and tie it down for the drive. You give the rope one more tug for good measure before you slip into the passenger seat.

The first mini argument you and Eddie have starts when you’re trying to set the tree up in the living room.

“No, the water goes there.”

“Babe, can you hold this or what? It’s going to fall on me.”

“I already said that! Twice!”

“It goes like this. Yes, I’m positive.”

There’s a part of you that likes squabbling back and forth with Eddie like this. It makes it feel like a real relationship, where you feel comfortable enough to express your thoughts and opinions without fear the other person will just leave you high and dry. You know you can have these silly little arguments with Eddie, but at the end of the day, he’s still yours. It’s a beautiful feeling, you’re just not used to experiencing it.

It’s decided that no decorations will go on the tree until tomorrow. That would give Wayne the chance to see it in all its natural glory, plus it’s getting late and Eddie wants to get you in his room. Now.

When you wake in Eddie’s arms the next morning, you can hear Wayne is already home, moving around out in the living room. One look at Eddie’s adorable sleeping face you can’t bring yourself to wake him. Doing your best not to move him too much, you carefully lift Eddie’s arm and place it down on his chest. You slip off the bed and tug on a pair of your boyfriend’s sweatpants and a Black Sabbath sweatshirt. The bedroom door hinges squeak as you open it, so you carefully close it behind you so you don’t wake the sleepy boy.

Wayne greets you with a smile as he sees you come into the living room.

“Mornin’ doll,” he says. “What’s got you up so early?”

You shrug as you pad into the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water.

“Dunno,” you say. “You hungry? I could make pancakes.”

“Nah, you don’t have to do that,” Wayne says, waving a hand.

“I don’t mind,” you tell him with a smile. “I like to cook.”

Eddie opens his eyes to a cold, empty bed and frowns to himself. He thinks maybe you’ve gotten up to use the bathroom so he closes his eyes to wait for you. But when he hears your familiar giggle coming from out in the living room, he opens his eyes again and smiles to himself. He gets out of bed and is about to open the door to the hall when he remembers the only thing he’s wearing is his boxers. When he sees his Black Sabbath sweatshirt is no longer laying over his stereo, he rolls his eyes to himself, but there’s a fond smile on his lips as he thinks about you wearing it. Pulling on an old Hellfire shirt and a pair of sweatpants from his many piles of clothes around the room, he heads out into the hall and can tell by the buttery scent in the air that you’re in the kitchen.

“No, it’s true!” you’re saying as Eddie steps into the kitchen. You let out a squeal in surprise as Eddie swoops in, wrapping his arms around you from behind and hugging you close to his body. He places a big kiss on your cheek with a loud mwah!

“What’s true?” he asks you, sliding his hands down to your hips.

“Wayne doesn’t believe that you picked out the tree,” you say, gesturing to the Christmas tree in the corner with your batter-covered spatula.

“You usually come back with a sad looking thing,” Wayne says in his defense.

Eddie turns to his uncle who’s leaning against the other side of the counter. Even as he turns, your boyfriend manages to keep one hand on your hip.

“I have impeccable taste, thank you very much,” Eddie says.

“Before, I woulda said that was questionable,” Wayne says. “But you picked a winner as your girlfriend, so maybe you’re right.”

You beam in pride as Eddie turns back to you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“What’s the best girlfriend making, hmm?” he asks.

“Pancakes.” You reach up and wipe a bit of flour on the tip of Eddie’s nose. His tongue comes out of his mouth and tries to lick it off, but as talented as his tongue is, it’s just not long enough.

“You really are the best.” Eddie’s tempted to give your ass a playful smack, but he remembers his uncle is standing right behind him so he only kisses your shoulder before stepping back. He uses the sleeve of his sweatshirt to wipe his nose clean and walks around the corner to stand next to Wayne, giving you space in the kitchen.

“You kids got any plans today?” Wayne asks.

Nothing you need to know about, Eddie thinks to himself.

“Don’t think so,” is what Eddie says aloud. He looks at you to double check and you shake your head to say you don’t think so either.

“What’s up?” Eddie asks.

“Well, this lady at work, Abigail, has this booth at a Christmas fair. Was thinking it might be fun.”

“Aw, that sounds nice,” you say, using the spatula to stack the pancakes on a plate.

“A lady at work?” Eddie asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yep,” Wayne says, not looking at Eddie as he accepts a plateful of pancakes from you. “Thanks, darlin’.”

You slide a plate over the counter to Eddie, who blows you a kiss as he accepts them. Picking up the bottle of syrup and your own plate, you walk around and perch yourself on Eddie’s lap. He wraps an arm around your waist as he eats with one hand. It takes him a bit longer, but it’s worth it to hold on to you.

“These are delicious,” Wayne says between bites.

Eddie hums in agreement as she shoves half a pancake in his mouth at once.

The Christmas fair is in downtown Hawkins, and the entirety of Main Street is set up with booths, stalls, and tables selling an assortment of goodies. There are baked goods for sale, making the air smell sweet and delicious as you walk, fingers laced, with Eddie. Wayne walks on the other side of Eddie, his eyes scanning the owners of the booths as you pass, making you think Eddie might’ve been on the right track with his teasing before.

Wayne buys the three of you hot chocolate when the wind picks up and starts to whip around the street. Eddie’s bundled up in his leather jacket and you smile at seeing the red scarf you bought him around his neck again. You’d slipped your own jacket over Eddie’s Black Sabbath sweatshirt, having refused to take it off. Why would you want to when it kept you warm and smelled so strongly of your boyfriend?

You tug Eddie over to a few stalls, one selling handmade jewelry, one selling miniature figurines of animals, and another selling hand woven blankets and quilts. The talent showcased at each stop amazed you, unable to fathom how people could make such beautiful things with their bare hands.

The three of you are more than halfway down the street when Wayne says he’s spied the woman from work and you and Eddie follow him over to a booth where a friendly looking older woman with graying blonde hair looks over the table she’s behind, a beautiful assortment of ornaments spread out before her. Wayne clears his throat as you all approach and the woman looks up, a smile lighting her face when she sees Wayne. You and Eddie share a knowing look, sensing this crush isn’t one sided.

“Wayne, what are you doing here? I didn’t think this was your scene.”

Eddie’s uncle slips his hands into his pockets and gives a charming smile.

“Thought I’d come on by, bring the kids out for some Christmas fun,” he says. He’s silent for a moment, before apparently remembering you and Eddie are standing behind him. “Oh, this is my nephew and his girlfriend.”

She introduces herself as Abigail as you and Eddie shake her hand, introducing yourselves in return. As you look over the trinkets on the table, Eddie tugs on Wayne’s denim jacket and pulls him to the side.

“You’re not subtle,” Eddie whispers.

“What?” Wayne asks and Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Just ask her on a date.”

“Eddie, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Wayne says, shaking his head.

“Oh, come on,” Eddie whines, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’ve known you as long as you’ve known me, old man. You like her. Admit it.”

Wayne rolls his neck and Eddie smirks at the obvious nerves.

“Eddie…” Wayne trails off, not really knowing what to say. “Eddie, the more I get to spend time with Abigail, the more I can leave you two alone.”

Eddie’s face lights up and he nods.

“Come on,” Eddie says, hitting Wayne lightly on the chest. “I’ll be your wingman.”

“Good Lord,” Wayne mutters as they both step back up to the table.

“These are beautiful, Abigail,” Eddie says. He wraps an arm around your shoulders as he joins you in looking over the ornaments.

“Thank you, dear.”

“Oh, hey Wayne,” Eddie says, looking over his shoulder at his uncle. “Didn’t you say you wanted a new ornament to put on the tree?”

Wayne huffs out a sigh and you bite your lip to keep from laughing. You slip out from under Eddie’s arm and back up to where Wayne is standing. Abigail picks up an ornament to show Eddie and you let out a quiet giggle as he feigns interest.

“Tell me,” Wayne whispers to you. “How did Eddie manage to pick you up if this is how he is with women?”

This time you giggle louder and have to cover your mouth with your hand.

“I have no idea,” you whisper back.

Wayne steps up to the table, asking about the ornament Abigail is showing. Eddie politely backs away and comes over to you. He sends you a wink as he wraps his arm around your hips.

“See how I work my magic?” Eddie asks.

“Oh yes, Casanova,” you answer, leading him away from the booth. “Now come on, leave them alone.”

A few more stalls down, you come to a booth that’s selling custom painted clothing and accessories.

“Oh, look at these shoes,” you say, walking over to a pair of high top converse painted with symbols of New York City. There’s the Empire State Building, taxi cabs, the Statue of Liberty, and Broadway marquees. “They’re amazing.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees. “They remind me of the sneakers Robin wears.”

“Well, that’s perfect,” you say, nudging his arm. “What custom painting would she like on a pair? You can give them to her as her secret Santa.”

“Shit, you’re right.” Eddie’s brow furrows as he looks at the shoes, thinking of what he should have painted on them. His face quickly turns into a smirk and you don’t know if you should be worried or happy that he’s thought of something.

“Can I help you?” The woman who runs the stall comes up to you and Eddie. He inquires about getting a pair of the shoes painted, and when the woman tells him that she’s the artist and asks what he has in mind, he asks her for some paper and pencil. You stand over Eddie’s shoulder as he sketches. Quickly, you realize what the images are and you roll your eyes, in a loving manner, at your boyfriend. You hadn’t known Eddie was so good at drawing, though. You tell him as much when you’re done at that booth, the woman saying the shoes should be ready any day and Eddie would get a call.

“I didn’t know I was dating such an artist,” you say.

“Eh, I can doodle,” Eddie says as you walk farther down the street together.

“More than doodle, babe,” you say. “That was really good.”

Eddie’s cheeks are already flushed from the cold, but you think they get even redder at your words. The two of you come to the end of the fair, so you turn back around and head in the direction of where Wayne’s truck is parked. When you walk by Abigail’s table, Eddie’s uncle is no longer there, but he’s waiting for the two of you at his truck with a small package in his hands.

“Oh boy,” Eddie says as the two of you get closer. “What did she swindle you into buying?”

Wayne frowns and gives Eddie a huff.

“I don’t get swindled, boy. But I did see this and thought y’all might like it. If not, if I overstepped, just tell me and I’ll take it back.”

Both you and Eddie share a face of confusion as Wayne offers forward the package. Eddie takes it and starts to unwrap the layer and layers of tissue paper it’s rolled in. He pulls the ornament out by its red ribbon and holds it up for you both to see. It’s a wooden disc with a Christmas tree carved into it. The details are beautiful, from the star on the very top, down to the lights and ornaments adoring the branches, to the wrapped presents underneath. At the very bottom is the year 1986 carved in. To the left of the tree is your name, painted on in a delicate hand in red paint. Eddie’s painted name sits on the right of the tree, written in the same lovely handwriting.

“S’your first Christmas,” Wayne says with a shrug. “Something to remember it by.”

“Oh Wayne, this is beautiful!” You rush forward to throw your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug. He’s a little stiff at it at first, but eventually returns the affection. “Thank you so much. I love it.”

“Me too,” Eddie says, still staring at the ornament. He packs it back up in the tissue paper and pats Wayne on the shoulder as he walks by him to get in the van. It might’ve seemed cold to other people, but you were learning it’s just how these two were with one another. No flowery words or long embraces. There was teasing, small acts of kindness, and the occasional pat on the back or arm between this uncle and nephew.

You climb into the truck next to Eddie, and he immediately takes your hand in his own.

Once you get home, Wayne has to get some sleep before his night shift, so you and Eddie stay out of the house. Eddie makes sure your new ornament is safely in his room before the two of you get in Eddie’s van and drive.

It’s dark when the two of you get back, and Wayne’s already headed to work. The heat inside the trailer warms your bones and you let out a content sigh as you toe off your boots. You’re hanging up your jacket when Eddie comes back down the hall, your new Christmas ornament in his hands.

“What do you say?” he asks. “First one up on the tree?” When you nod with an excited grin, Eddie offers the decoration up to you. “You may do the honors.”

The tree is taller than you, but not so much that you’re unable to reach the top branches on your tiptoes. There’s a sturdy branch high up, protruding out a bit farther than all the rest. It’s the perfect spot, you decide, so you stretch your body up as high as you can reach and hang the red ribbon on it. Stepping back towards Eddie, you lean into his side to admire your handiwork. With the dark green background of the tree, the light brown wood and bright red paint stand out vibrantly.

“I love it,” you say.

Eddie wraps his arm around your neck and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“It means a lot, actually.” You sense that he isn’t don’t talking yet, so you look up at him as you wait for him to continue. “Wayne’s not a very sentimental guy, if you haven’t noticed. Bet he’s not mentioned my Aunt Laura to you since you’ve been here, right?”

“His wife you told me about? The one who died when you were little?”

“That’s her,” Eddie says with a nod. “He never talks about her. Or any of our family, really. He doesn’t buy souvenirs, he doesn’t save birthday cards, he doesn’t even have photos on the walls at all. So that,” Eddie says, nodding to the ornament, “says a lot. About you. About us.”

“He likes me?” you ask, though you were already kind of getting that feeling anyway.

Eddie turns to face you and takes both of your hands in his.

“More than he likes me, I think,” he tells you with a smirk. “But really. This is him basically saying you’re family so you’re stuck with us now. That he sees you sticking around for a long time.”

“Well, I wasn’t planning on going anywhere, so that’s good,” you say. Eddie leans in and presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Maybe he just wants you to keep cooking for us.”

You snort and swat Eddie on the chest.

“Come on, sweet talker,” you say. “Let’s get the rest of these ornaments up.”

Eddie has a mixtape of metal covers of Christmas songs - because of course he does - so he blares that as you break out the ornaments you bought at the store the other day. Eddie says he’ll take the higher branches, even though you can clearly reach most of them, and that you can take care of the shorter ones. Halfway through decorating, you realize you don’t know the last time you decorated a tree with someone. It’s usually you all on your own, putting the few ornaments you had on your small tree. But now, you look up as Eddie hangs a golden bauble on a high branch, tongue poking out in concentration, and you can’t help the well of emotion you feel. This tiny trailer you just stepped foot in for the first time the other day feels more welcoming and more like home than your own home of the last ten years or so.

Eddie takes notice of your misty eyes and comes over to cup your face in his hands.

“What’s wrong, beautiful?”

“Nothing,” you say with a watery smile. “This is just really nice.”

He leans in and presses a slow, soft kiss to your lips.

“Having fun?” he asks.

“I am. Just emotional.”

“Well,” Eddie says, pausing to peck a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Then it’s probably as good a time as any to bring out these.”

Eddie goes over to the hall closet and reaches for something on the top shelf. Brow pinched as you watch him, you wipe away a stray tear that decided to go rogue and slide down your cheek.

“Aha,” Eddie says, pulling an old shoe box out of the closet. He closes the door with his foot and makes his way back over to you. “Wayne may not be a sentimental guy, but I am. Enough to keep these, anyway.” He lifts the lid of the shoebox and there are a little over a dozen ornaments inside, most of them looking as old as Eddie.

“Who’s are they?” you ask quietly.

“Mine now, I guess,” Eddie says. “They’ve all got some kind of meaning.” He sits down on the floor and gestures for you to join him. Once you’re sitting next to him, he pulls out the first ornament. It’s a little toy soldier, plastic, with fading colors of red, blue, and green. “This was my mom’s. I don’t have a whole lot of good memories with her, but I remember her lifting me up so I could put this one on the highest branch of the tree. And this one.” Eddie takes out an Elvis ornament that makes both of you laugh. “This was Aunt Laura’s. She was in love with Elvis. Sometimes she’d sing me Elvis songs as a lullaby.”

“Which was your favorite?” you ask.

“I always liked Jailhouse Rock,” he says.

“That’s a good one. I think I like Can’t Help Falling In Love best.”

“Pretty sure that was her and Wayne’s wedding song.” He sets that ornament down and picks up one that’s got Santa Clause riding a motorcycle. “This was my dad’s. Don’t know why I still have it, but I don’t want to throw it away either.” He sets that one aside quickly and lets out a sigh. “I think this one here is my favorite, though.” Eddie holds up an ornament that shows two polar bears in a boat, fishing. “Wayne bought me this for my first Christmas with him.”

“Beautiful,” you say, and Eddie knows you don’t just mean the polar bears. He puts the ornaments back in the box and stands up with it, offering his hand to help you up.

Eddie balances the shoebox on his arm as he scopes out places to put these new additions. His dad’s goes towards the back of the tree, while his Aunt Laura’s gets a place of honor in the front. The two polar bears go near the ornament Wayne had just given you today. For hanging up his mom’s toy soldier, Eddie sits the box down and opens his arms for you. You look at him in confusion as you step into them. He places the ormanament in your hand and leans down to wrap his arms around your legs, just under your ass. You’re hoisted up and let out a squeak, balancing yourself by putting a hand on Eddie’s shoulder.

“Go ahead,” Eddie says, smiling up at you. “Put it on the highest branch.”

His eyes are watching you with so much adoration that you can hardly take it. You reach down and cup his cheek, your thumb stroking over his cheekbone. Turning back to face the tree, you spot the highest branch and lean towards it while trying to stay steady in Eddie’s grip. The hook slips easily over the branch and the little toy soldier looks ready to defend the tree from any incoming enemies.

Eddie sets you down and admires your handy work.

“Perfect,” he says.

Taking a few steps back so you can take in the tree as a whole, you nod to yourself in approval.

“Perfect,” you agree.

Eddie has to work the next day, so after your morning shower session, he heads out and you call up Nancy. She says she’ll be by in fifteen minutes to pick you up. Part of you wanted to take Max up on her offer to hang out while Eddie is working, but you and Nancy had already scheduled your plans for the day, and Eddie was working tomorrow as well. Hopefully, Max is available then.

Nancy takes you to a cute little sandwich shop and you’re glad it’s mostly empty because once you and Nancy are seated with your food, she gets into the questions she’s been dying to ask.

“So,” she says with a smirk. “How long after Steve and I left the other day did you two do it?”

Sprite almost comes out of your nose and you have a small coughing fit, which amuses your friend greatly.

“Who says we did it at all?” you finally respond, voice still raspy from the burn in your throat.

But she’s not dumb, she can see all the signs. Eddie wanting to explain his scars to you, sleeping in the same bed every night, alluding to the fact that you had phone sex the other day, and you have a pep in your step that you didn’t have the last time she saw you. Nancy rolls her eyes and leans in towards you across the table.

“Spill. I want to know everything,” she says.

“Everything?” You raise your eyebrows.

“Yep.” It’s so casual, as if she’s asking to hear about a test you took in class.

“I’ve never talked about it before because I’d never done it before,” you say with a giggle. “I’m not sure what to say.”

“Hey, I told you about my first time,” Nancy says.

“I know! And I’ll tell you about mine, I just don’t really know what to say.”

“Was it good?” She takes a bite of her chicken salad sandwich, but her eyes never leave you, eager for an answer.

“It was really good,” you tell her.

Nancy looks around and sees there’s a mom with her two kids sitting not far from you and she frowns. It seems she’ll have to talk in code.

“Did you…get there?” she asks.

You clocked the small family the minute you sat down, so you know Nancy’s trying to be conscientious for their sake.

“I did,” you say, a smile pulling at the corner of your lips.

“During?” Nancy sounds astounded. Not only did most girls not reach orgasm from penetration during sex the first time, but Nancy didn’t either.

“Before. When he, um…” You can’t think of a way to phrase it without it being crass, so you just tap your finger against your lips.

Nancy’s brain processes it quickly and her mouth drops open.

“Lucky you!” she says with a smirk. “I don’t know how many times Steve and I did it until he finally got to that.”

“Eddie said he liked it,” you tell her.

“Steve does too, I think. He’s never said it, but the longer we’ve been together, the more he wants to do that.”

“We’ve got generous boyfriends,” you tell her with a teasing wink.

“So, it’s official? You’re his girlfriend?” she asks.

“Officially, I am. Which actually changes the rules of the game for me.”

“What rules?” Nancy asks. “What game?”

“Secret Santa,” you tell her. “Rules were couples can’t have their boyfriend or girlfriend since they’ll already get them a gift. I didn’t pick Eddie, but now that I’m his girlfriend I guess I have to find a pretty damn good gift for him, huh?”

“That doesn’t change the rules then,” Nancy says with a laugh. “As long as he didn’t pick you, nothing changes. Except that you’re buying Eddie something.”

“I would’ve done that anyway,” you admit with a sheepish smile. “And no, he did not pick me for secret Santa. I did help him find the present he is giving, though.”

“There are some cute stores just a few blocks over. We could go there once we’re done eating?” Nancy offers.

“Perfect.”

The grilled cheese on your plate finally gets your attention as Nancy’s questions have slowed. But they still came.

“Did it hurt? Or just, like, uncomfortable?”

“Have you been on top yet?”

“So…how big?”

That last question got a potato chip thrown her way. But truthfully, it was nice to have a friend to talk to about all of this. Nancy understood. She knows Eddie, she’s the reason you met to begin with so she’s been invested from the start.

Once you’ve finished lunch, Nancy takes you to the stores she mentioned, and the two of you stroll around, seeing if anything catches your eye. Nancy already has her gifts for her secret Santa, Steve, and her family, so she’s just here to help you now. You browse for a few hours, neither of you having anywhere else you need to be. It’s nice to have a girl’s shopping trip with Nancy, though. Sure, you hung out constantly at school, but this was different. You weren’t talking about tests or papers. You weren’t bitching about professors or roommates. You were in Nancy’s hometown - where you feel just as at home - shopping for Christmas presents with your best friend.

The stores you went to turned out to be successful, and you clutched the bag holding Eddie’s gifts in your lap the entire drive back to Forest Hills. When you hug Nancy goodbye, she says she’ll see you in two days at the party. You tell her you can’t wait and wave as she drives off.

No one’s home when you walk inside, which feels a little odd. Wayne had already left for work, and Eddie hadn’t come home from work yet. You wander around the trailer, looking at the different hats hung on the walls, counting how many different metal bands are featured on t-shirts scattered around Eddie’s room, but then decide to do something useful.

Rummaging in the kitchen leaves you with limited options, but you can work with what they’ve got. By the time Eddie is walking through the door, the trailer smells like a starving man’s dream - which Eddie is currently considering himself.

“Holy shit,” he says as he sees you working in the kitchen. “Come home from a long day at work, just wanting my girl, and here she is making me dinner? Jesus Christ, what did I do right in a past life to deserve this?”

You chuckle and shake your head at his dramatics.

“It’s nothing fancy, Eddie.”

He goes to strip himself of his oily t-shirt, a habit that he usually does after coming home from work, but he sees oil in a pan and senses there’s a chance of splatter. The last thing he needs is another type of oil to be his enemy.

“What is it?” Eddie comes up behind you and runs his hands up and down your sides.

“Chicken.”

“Why’s it look all crispy and good and shit?”

You turn in his arms so you can give him a proper kiss hello.

“I covered the chicken in butter and ritz crackers. Super easy. Super tasty.”

“My woman’s a genius,” Eddie says, going in for another kiss.

“How was your day?” you ask.

“Long,” he says with a sigh. “I’m usually fine at work, it never seems too boring. But today all I could think about was the fact that you’re here, in Hawkins, and I wasn’t with you.”

“You’re with me now,” you tell him. “And you helped fix cars that people need for their jobs and to take their families places. So you did good.”

Eddie’s smile is bashful and he presses a kiss to your forehead before walking out of the kitchen.

“M’gonna go change,” he tells you as he starts down the hall.

Eddie would never admit it - maybe to you one day, but not yet - but he always wanted this kind of domestic life. It always seemed so foreign to him, never having it, but always seeing it in friend’s families and in television and movies. When he walked in the door and saw you cooking, it hit him that this is what he wants. He wants to come home to you everyday, or have you come home to him. Whoever gets home first would make dinner, then you’d eat it together and talk about your days, just like you’re doing now. It’s pure domestic bliss and he’s mentally kicking himself because that does not go with the metal head persona he’s got going on.

When you go to bed, you’re both already taking your clothes off before you’ve even crossed the threshold to the bedroom. This is also part of what Eddie wants. To hold you in his arms every night, to make you moan and whimper and call out his name in pleasure. He wants to take care of you, in every sense of the word.

Once you’ve gone three rounds, you're both thoroughly exhausted. But as he pulls you to his chest afterward and you press your nose against his shoulder, placing soft kisses along his skin, the word smacks him in the face.

Love.

This overwhelming feeling of needing you, wanting you, but wanting you to live the wonderful life you’ve built before you even met, too. Eddie wants the world for you and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t help you get it.

“I’ve got a question,” Eddie says.

You hum against his skin in acknowledgment.

“I’m not asking for, like, now, okay? I don’t want you to freak you.”

Frown pinching your face, you look up at him and melt under the large doe eyes he’s giving you. You’re pretty sure he doesn’t even know he’s doing it.

“Okay…” you start. “What is it?”

“Do you want kids? You know, someday.” His fingers trail up and down your bare back in a soothing manner as he speaks.

“I do,” you tell him with a smile. “What about you?”

“Yeah,” he admits. “Used to think I never wanted them. But, I don’t know, it doesn’t seem as scary anymore.”

“You can take a test run with my niece one day. She’s seven and a total firecracker,” you say.

“I’d love to meet your other favorite person,” Eddie says.

In the morning, you whine when Eddie starts to get out of bed to get ready for work. All you want is him snuggled up next to you, keeping each other warm in the cozy space.

“I’ll see you tonight, baby,” Eddie promises with a kiss on the forehead.

When you finally force yourself out of bed, you dress in warm clothes and tug on your boots. You’re pretty sure you remember which trailer Max came out of the other day, so you roll the dice and knock on the door. The redhead herself answers, and smiles when she sees you standing there.

“Hey,” she says. “What’s up?”

“Well, you said we could hang out when Eddie’s at work. And…well, he’s at work,” you say with a nervous chuckle.

“Totally,” Max says. Then she realizes how cold you must be so she steps aside so you can come in. You rub your hands together and blow some hot breath on them. It helps a little.

Growing up, being the little sister sucked. You got less time with your dad before he passed, you got abandoned when your sister left you with your then-alcoholic mom the moment she turned eighteen, and you had no choice but to raise yourself because the older people weren’t there for you. You’d always imagined you had a little sister to play with in those moments when it just became too much. You’d imagine a girl a few years younger than you who made you laugh when you needed it. You see every single quality you gave to your imaginary sister in Max.

She tells you about Lucas, and hanging out with the guys, and once she realizes you know about the Upside Down, it’s like a weight has been lifted off her chest. She can talk about it to someone who will believe her and actually listen. So, Max tells you her story. From the moment she moved to Hawkins with her asshole ex step-father and her step-brother, to when she finally woke up in the hospital, barely remembering anything that had happened to land her in there. As she’s finishing up, you realize that she needed this. She needed to tell someone about everything she went through. Someone who wasn’t there, who didn’t already know. It was probably itching her to tell her mom, and though you’re nowhere close to that, you think maybe this helped ease the burden she felt a little bit.

For lunch, Max encourages you to try a peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich, which you have to admit tasted pretty damn good. You’re glad to see there’s still some kid left in her, even after all the awful shit she’s been through in her life.

“So, who’d you get for secret Santa?” Max asks as you two wash the dishes together.

You almost spill, having already told Eddie and Nancy. But you catch yourself at the last moment and shrug your shoulders, hoping it seems nonchalant.

“You’ll see tomorrow, I guess,” you say.

“Come on,” Max says. She takes a plate from you and dries it off with the towel. “What if I tell you who I got?”

“Still not telling.”

“You’re telling me you don’t want to know who I’ve got?” Max asks.

“I didn’t say that.” You can’t help the smile from forming on your lips. Of course you want to know. “You’re more than welcome to tell me, but I’m not telling you.”

“Ugh, fine.” She’s silent as she dries the next plate so you assume she’s not going to tell you. But it seems like she can’t hold it in. “I got Steve.”

“Oh, really?” You chuckle as you turn the faucet off. “What’s Steve got to look forward to getting tomorrow?”

Max laughs, and it sounds slightly diabolical.

“I got him the ugliest sweater I found at the store.”

“Why?” The thought of Steve in an ugly Christmas sweater is pretty hilarious though.

“Watch,” she says as she walks back over to the couch. “When he opens it he’s going to say he loves it. I’d put money on it.”

“And why’s that?” you say, sitting down next to her.

“Because he loves me so much. I don’t think he’d ever say it out loud, but he totally does. He’s taken on the role of being my big brother, and that was even before I was in the hospital. After? He’s like a damn mother hen.”

“So, you bought the ugliest sweater on purpose? To test his love for you?” you ask.

“I don’t need to test it,” she says with a scoff. “This is purely for a good laugh.”

“I knew I liked you,” you tell her.

Max tells you that she’s not sure when her mom will be home from work, and you relate to that too much, so you invite her over to the Munson trailer for dinner. She helps you make spaghetti that’ll be ready by the time Eddie comes home, and you tell her more about your home life as you get everything together.

“So, your sister just…left you? Even though she knows what your mom is like?”

“Pretty much,” you say with a sigh. “She was only eighteen, so I get that she couldn’t support me. But I’d hoped she’d come back for me. Two years later she was pregnant though, so I knew she’d never come take me away.”

“Jesus. How old were you?” Max asks.

“Eight when she left. Ten when Chloe was born.”

“Chloe’s your niece?”

“She is.” You just can’t help the fond smile on your face whenever you talk about her. Max takes notice.

“You’re the cool aunt, huh?”

A laugh comes out and you nod your head.

“I am. Her dad’s sister is a total bitch, so I’d win anyway, but I’m still her favorite.”

The loud engine and blaring music from Eddie’s van reaches your ears and you roll your eyes in a fond way. You know the minute it starts to get warmer outside he’s going to want to have sex in the back of it. He needs to make it smell better in there, then.

“I hate that stupid thing,” Max says as Eddie’s brakes squeal.

“Honey, I’m home! Oh. Hi, Max.” He ruffles her hair as he passes her, leaving her huffing and reaching up to fix it. He gives you a soft kiss as he tosses his keys down on the counter, adjusting a package under his arm. “Smells good.”

“Thanks,” you say. “What’s that you’ve got?”

“Robin’s gift,” he says. “Just gotta wrap it. But later. Now, I’m starving.”

“It’s almost done. Go change.”

Max’s eyes dart back and forth between the two of you, amusement lighting her features. You give her a questioning look as Eddie goes down the hall to the bedroom.

“You’re like a couple in a 50’s sitcom,” she says.

“Calling me a housewife?” you ask with a smirk. You drain the water out of the pasta and Max takes the sauce off the burner.

“That’s not a bad thing!” Max says.

“I agree,” you tell her. “It’s hard work.”

“Is that what you want?” Max asks. She pours the sauce over the pasta and you begin to mix it together.

“I don’t know,” you say. “Not right away. Maybe eventually, though. I’d like to have a career. But when the day comes that I have kids? I think I’d like it.”

“Aww, you wanna be a mom?” Max teases.

“What?” Eddie asks as he comes back into the kitchen.

“Your girlfriend wants babies,” Max tells him.

“I know,” he says, opening the fridge and pulling a beer out. “We literally had that discussion last night.”

“You what?” Max asks. “Are you guys crazy? You’ve barely been a couple!”

Eddie rolls his eyes and you let out a laugh.

“Not like, tomorrow, Max!” you say. “One day. Far in the future.”

“Yeah, why do you seem the most freaked out about us having kids?” Eddie asks, giving her a playful shove as he walks by you. “You’d only be the babysitter.”

“I’m the Steve here?” Max asks.

“Eh, you’re right,” Eddie says as he plops down on a barstool. “I don’t think we’d trust you enough for that.”

“Here,” Max says, dropping a plate of spaghetti in front of Eddie. “I poisoned it. Enjoy.”

There’s not much to do the next day before the party at Steve’s. So once you’ve officially worn Eddie out enough that he lets you out of bed, you take a look around the kitchen and talk Eddie into taking you to the store so you can buy ingredients for cookies. As you make them, he keeps trying to steal dough, so you’re forced to threaten him with no sex tonight if he doesn’t stop. It’s an empty threat and you both know it, but it works.

While the cookies are in the oven, Eddie breaks out the wrapping paper and you wrap your gift for Max while he wraps his for Robin. Once they’re all nice and fancy looking, Eddie asks you to help him pick out an outfit for the party. He’d look drop dead gorgeous in anything, but you can’t say no to him when he turns those doe eyes on you. He sits on his bed while you dig around in his closet. Towards the back you find a long sleeved green t-shirt and you pull it out.

“This!”

Eddie catches the shirt when you toss it at him and he looks it over.

“Yeah?” he asks.

“Green is a Christmas color, plus it looks really good with your eyes,” you tell him.

Eddie smirks and whips off the Metallica tee he’s wearing, eyes never leaving yours. You don’t back down from the stare, raising an eyebrow at him as he sits there shirtless.

“You’re going to get cold,” you tell him. He shakes his head but you know he’s full of shit because his nipples are so pebbled. After holding out for a minute, he groans and slips the green shirt on over his head.

“Black jeans and your leather jacket will work with it.” You walk over to perch yourself on Eddie’s leg. “I’d ask you to pick my outfit but I’d be a little scared.”

“Oh no, I’ll do it.” Eddie smirks and tosses you back on his bed so he can walk over to your suitcase. He sits down in front of it and thoughtfully goes through your articles of clothing.

“See anything you like?” you ask.

“Besides your bras and panties?” he asks, and you don’t have to see his face to know he’s smirking.

“I think I’d be cold if that’s all I wore.”

“You’ll just have to wear them, and only them, when we get back to my nice warm room,” Eddie says.

“Wow, you want me wearing that much clothing?”

“Good point.” Eddie tosses a piece of clothing over his head and you have to dart to the left to catch it.

“This is a cute cardigan,” you say, holding the purple material in your lap. “Kind of need something under it.”

“Is there a dress in here?” Eddie asks.

“A few,” you say. “Uh, black one, blue one, and green one that I’m wearing tomorrow.”

“Black works with purple, right?” Eddie asks and you hum in confirmation. “Aha!” Eddie stands up, brandishing the dress above his head.

He stands there and watches you change, of course, a dopey smile on his face the whole time. While you add a touch of makeup, Eddie changes into his black jeans and puts the cookies in a bowl to take with you. If one or two don’t make it in the bowl, he’s sure no one will notice.

Eddie helps you into your coat, then you’re out and on your way to Steve’s.

When you get there, the house is already loud and crowded, not that you expected anything different. Eddie drops your gifts on the pile and you join the rest of the gang in the living room.

“Hey!” Robin calls when she sees you. She makes her way over to you, almost tripping on her feet as she does. “Ooh, you made cookies!”

“Cookies?” Mike’s head snaps up and he looks in your direction. You shake the bowl at him like you’d shake treats at a dog, and he’s by your side in the blink of an eye. “How are you?” he asks, but doesn’t stick around to hear the answer before he’s walking away with the baked goods.

Nancy walks out of the kitchen, bottle of wine in her hand and a smile lights her face when she sees you.

“Hey! Want some wine?” she asks.

“Always,” you say. She tugs you over to a couch with her and pours both of you a glass. You sit shoulder to shoulder, leaning back on the couch as you enjoy your glasses of merlot, and you breathe a contented sigh. You didn’t realize how much you’d missed being around this gang.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Nancy says, as if she was reading your mind.

“Me too,” you say. “Makes me not want to go back to Boston. Again.”

“You may be the only person who prefers Hawkins to Boston,” she says.

“Boston has you,” you say. “Hawkins has you and Eddie.”

Nancy chuckles and nods her head.

“Fair enough.”

Max walks over and sits down on the other side of you. She raises an eyebrow as she looks over the rim of your glass.

“Can I have some?” she asks.

“No,” you and Nancy say at the same time.

“You guys aren’t 21!” Max argues.

“Closer than you,” you tell her.

The redhead huffs and crosses her arms over her chest.

At dinner, you sit between Eddie and Will, who you notice are more alike than you thought. They talk about D&D, art, books, over you during the meal, with you piping in here and there. Will starts to ask you about Boston and school, and he tells you he’s probably going to major in art, but he might minor in psychology. You tell him about your classes, which ones you like, which ones you find boring.

Dustin sits on the other side of Eddie and keeps trying to say kind things to him to make up for hitting the back of his van a few days ago. Eddie insists on acting like he’s still pissed at the boy, but the truth is that Eddie is secretly finding it all hilarious.

Looking over, you see Nancy sitting between Steve and Lucas, and the two guys are arguing about a basketball game. She widens her eyes when she meets your gaze, mouthing the words “help me” to you. You chuckle and give her a helpless shrug.

Eddie takes your hand under the table and gives it a squeeze. Lacing your fingers with his, you give a squeeze in return. Across the table from Eddie, El is giving the two of you a smile. As you return the gesture, you realize this is the first time you’re seeing her since finding out she basically has super powers. Then you get in your head and tell yourself not to stare, but of course once that’s in your head, it’s all you can think about. Like Eddie can sense where your mind has gone, he leans in towards you and whispers in your ear.

“Doing okay, baby?”

“Mhmm,” you say. “You full yet?”

“Never,” he says with a smirk.

“Really? Even after sneaking those cookies?”

“You saw me?”

“No, but I know how many I made,” you say with a laugh. “It was not the number that was in the bowl when we got here.”

Once everyone has finished eating, Jonathan offers to help Steve clear the table while the kids start clamoring to open presents. Nancy, stepping in as the deputy mom of the group, tells them that we can all get to presents quicker if they help clean up. It doesn’t work, but it was a valiant try.

They finally get their way, though, and Mike and Eddie carry in all of the gifts, piling them up on the Harrington’s coffee table.

“Who goes first?” El asks.

“I think there should be a fight to the death to decide,” Robin says.

“What’s the prize?” Dustin asks. “Dying?”

“As someone who almost died this year, maybe it should be me,” Max says.

“I’m sorry, who came closer?” Eddie asks her, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh my God,” Steve says, running his hands through his hair in exasperation. “El, you go first.”

With a smile on her face, El leans forward to find the present with her name on it. She picks it from the pile and sets the box on her lap. Everyone’s quiet as she rips into the paper, waiting to see what she’s got.

“Remember,” Dustin says. “You’ve got to guess who gave it to you.”

El nods as she pulls the top off the box. She pulls out a pair of overalls that have different colorful patches all over them. All eyes turn to Robin, who has a smirk on her face because she’s wearing the exact same outfit.

“Robin?” El asks with a laugh.

“I thought you might like to have matching outfits!”

“It’s great,” El says, looking back down at the outfit. She doesn’t look like she’s patronizing either, you notice, it seems to mean a lot that El received a matching outfit with her friend. “Thank you.”

“You are very welcome,” Robin says. “Do I pick mine now?”

“Yeah,” Lucas says.

Robin wiggles her fingers as she leans forward to inspect the pile of presents.

“Aha!” she snatches hers up and shakes the box next to her ear. You try not to laugh, Eddie rolling his eyes next to you.

She’s not careful about ripping through the paper, and you can basically hear Eddie’s jaw clenching as he remembers how long it took him to wrap it. Robin lifts the lid of the shoebox and pulls out one of the painted converse.

“Whoa,” Robin says. She turns the shoe in front of her face. The Hellfire logo looks amazing painted on the outside of the shoe, while the instep is decorated with different types of dice that are used in D&D. “This is sick.” She sets the shoe back in the box and pulls out the other one, painted with “Corroded Coffin” on the outside, musical notes on the instep. “These are so cool. But I wonder who gave them to me…”

She whips her head to the side and gives Eddie a smirk.

“They’re hand painted,” Eddie tells her.

“Shit, really?” She takes another look at the shoes, jaw dropping in awe. “I’m afraid to wear these now.”

“I was told they’re fine even out in the rain. Snow? I’m not so sure,” Eddie says.

“Thank you!” Robin drops the shoe back in the box and lunges over Max’s lap to hug Eddie. He’s startled at first, but pats her back when he recovers.

“You’re turn,” Dustin tells Eddie. Eddie’s gift is in a flat, square box and you instantly have an idea of what could be inside. You’re proven right when he opens it to find four new vinyl records.

“Hey!” he calls out happily. “Metallica, Ozzy, all the good shit. This is the best.” He narrows his eyes as he looks around the circle of friends, trying to find out who gave them to him. His tongue pokes out of his lips as he thinks, and that’s quickly become one of your favorite habits of his. Eddie and his damn tongue.

“Take a guess,” Mike says and Eddie waves him off.

“I’m thinking,” he says. “Uh, Lucas?”

“Nope,” Lucas says, shaking his head.

“Shit,” Eddie says, resting the albums in his lap. “I’m the first one to get it wrong.”

“To be fair,” Robin says, “yours is the hardest one so far.”

“Yeah, only you would give Corroded Coffin and Hellfire shoes,” Max says. “And Robin’s literally wearing a replica of her gift.”

“So who was it?” Eddie asks.

Nancy raises her hand, a shy smile on her lips.

“Wheeler! Thank you. Really, I love them,” Eddie tells her.

“You’re welcome,” Nancy says.

“Who goes now since Eddie guessed wrong?” Will asks.

“Since this isn’t even officially a game, I don’t think,” Steve says with a shrug. “Nancy can pick.”

“Mike looks impatient,” Nancy muses. “So not him. Um, Lucas. You can go.”

Lucas grins as he digs his present out of the pile. The box is kind of large, but when he opens it to see an official Boston Celtics basketball, he stands up so quickly the box gets knocked to the floor.

“Holy shit!” he yells. “This is the coolest thing ever!”

“Whoa,” Steve says, getting up to look at the ball as well.

“It’s a ball,” Eddie whispers in your ear and you pinch his thigh, making him snort.

“There’s two people here who spend their time in Boston. And one was already outed as giving a gift, so…” His gaze falls on you but you shrug your shoulders.

“Sorry, wasn’t me.”

“Who?”

El giggles and waves her hand at him.

“I had Nancy get it for me,” she says. Lucas wraps her up in a hug that almost suffocates the small girl.

“Another wrong guess. El can pick,” Nancy says.

El picks Jonathan, whose gift is a set of film and developing solution. He guesses it’s from Max, which is wrong. Lucas takes credit for the gift, then picks Will to go next. His present, to no one’s real surprise, is art supplies. He would’ve guessed Eddie since they have that hobby in common, but Eddie had already been called. Will’s not sure but guesses Max, which was incorrect. Steve stands up and takes a bow, glad that he wasn’t guessed correctly for the present. Max picks Nancy to go next, and she opens her small box to see a beautiful silver tennis bracelet. It’s gorgeous and dainty, and just exactly what Nancy would wear. Nancy guesses Will and she’s right. There’s a cheer from the group, because she’s the first one to guess correctly in a while. Will chooses Mike to go next, whose gift is a new outfit, consisting of a t-shirt, button up shirt, and pants. He looks stumped on who gave it to him before he notices the clothing label and something seems to click in his mind.

“Jonathan! These are the clothes Argyle was saying he’d get me when we were in California,” Mike says and Jonathan shrugs sheepishly.

“You didn’t get them then, so you get them now.”

Since Jonathan already opened his, he declares it your turn to open your gift. You’re not expecting a particularly thought out gift, just because no one here knew you particularly well, and you knew neither Nancy nor Eddie had pulled your name. But when you spy your present inside the box you know exactly who gave it to you. With a laugh, you pull a stuffed Ewok out of the box, and upon closer inspection, you notice he’s wearing a pick necklace just like your boyfriend’s. You hug the toy to your chest and smile at the only person in the room you remember talking about Ewoks with.

“Dustin!”

The boy grins and shrugs his shoulders.

“What can I say? I couldn’t resist.”

“It’s perfect,” you tell him. “My little metal Ewok.”

“I thought that was me,” Eddie says with a smirk.

“You’re the metal teddy bear,” you remind him. “Get it right.”

“Dustin’s turn,” Robin says.

Dustin unwraps a package stuffed with new books. His face lights up as he goes through them, rambling off title after title and author after author as he looks them over. He correctly guesses that Mike gave them to him, and Mike chooses Max to be the next one to open her present. Now that most of the gifts have been revealed, Max only has two options to guess from. It’s either you or herself, so that makes it an easy choice.

“Hmm, I wonder who,” Max says, sending you a smirk as she tears into the wrapping paper. When she pulls out her new skateboard her jaw drops open. She runs her hand along it before flipping it over and seeing the artwork on the deck.

“No way.” There’s a painted picture of Wonder Woman on the bottom and Max’s eyes are wide in astonishment. It makes you feel proud that you found that for her. You’d already liked Max from the first time you met her, but you’d come to know her even more on this trip and become her friend.

“This is…wow,” Max says. She’s shaking her head, like she can’t believe what she’s holding. “Thank you so much.” She turns to you and gives you a smile that’s pure joy. For a moment it reminds you of Chloe’s smile when she gets very excited.

“You’re welcome,” you tell her. “I saw it and had to get it. Eddie did give me some clues about what you like, though.”

“This damn snow needs to melt so I can ride it,” Max says, still staring at the board.

There’s only one gift left and it’s for Steve. But he knows Max is the only one who hasn’t claimed a gift given yet, so this is obviously from her. It’s good it worked out this way though, because it further tests Max’s theory that Steve’s going to say he likes the sweater just because Max gave it to him. The redhead’s grin would look excited to anyone else, but you could see it for the maniacal smile it was.

Steve opens the box and stares down at the sweater inside. His mouth is hanging open and his eyebrows raise up.

“Oh,” he says. “Wow.”

“What is it?” Mike asks.

Steve picks up the sweater and holds it up against his chest. Max wasn’t lying. It’s one of the ugliest things you’ve ever seen. It’s blue and white, dotted in snowflakes and candy canes, and right in the middle of the chest there’s a gray cat wearing a Santa hat. Steve nods his head as he looks down at it.

“It’s…great,” he says, and you have to turn your head away to keep from laughing. Max is still grinning at him when Steve meets her eyes. “Thank you, Max. I love it.”

“I’m so glad,” Max says with fake cheeriness. “I saw it and immediately thought of you.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks, though his voice sounds strained.

Max nods enthusiastically and you have no idea how she's managing not to laugh. You volunteer to help with the clean up, and as you pass Max she smirks and whispers, “Told you.”

Steve heads into the kitchen to toss some of the wrapping paper away, but Eddie stops you as you go to follow behind him.

“Sit, princess,” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ve got it.” He takes the garbage from you and heads towards the kitchen.

Giving him a grateful smile, you sit down next to Max on the couch and look at her new skateboard with her. Eddie tosses the garbage out in the big bag Steve got out, but he stops his friend from going back out into the living room.

“Dude, I need to talk to you,” Eddie says.

Steve shrugs and puts his hands on his hips.

“What’s up?”

Eddie chews over his bottom lip and slips his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He wasn’t sure how to start this conversation without sounding like a complete idiot.

“Spit it out, man,” Steve says.

“It’s just…fuck, it’s going to sound crazy,” Eddie says.

“A lot of the things you say do.”

Eddie throws a glare his way before he begins to pace back and forth in front of the sink.

“I know I’ve only known her a month,” Eddie says. “And I don’t know, I don’t have any sort of reference for this. But, like…shit.”

Steve tilts his head to the side, waiting for Eddie to get to the point.

“I think I love her,” Eddie says, halting his motions and coming to stand in front of Steve. “Is that crazy?”

Steve shrugs his shoulders and leans against the counter.

“I wouldn’t say it’s crazy. A little fast, yeah? But since when do you do things like everyone else anyway?”

Eddie rubs his hands over his face and Steve lets out a sigh.

“Look,” Steve says. “No one else can tell you when you’re in love or not. It’s just something you know.”

“I do,” Eddie says, nodding his head. “I do know. God, I love her so much.”

“Then you love her,” Steve says. “What’s the problem?”

“I just feel like if this was anyone else I would be saying that they’re crazy. Saying it’s not possible to fall in love so fast. Especially with someone they’ve only communicated with by phone the majority of the time they’ve known them.”

“But it’s not someone else, it’s you. And who gives a shit what anyone else thinks? You of all people have never cared about that,” Steve says.

“I care what she thinks,” Eddie says, gesturing towards the living room. “I don’t want to scare her.”

“Then don’t tell her yet,” Steve says.

“I’ve already almost let it slip. It’s just a matter of time.”

“Dude, you’re too much in your own head about all of this. You guys are great together. Like, it sounds straight out of a fairytale type of great. Just keep doing what you’re doing. It’s obviously working.”

Eddie nods and comes to lean on the counter next to Steve.

“How quick until you loved Nancy?” Eddie asks.

Steve scratches at his neck, eyes looking up as he searches his memories.

“Maybe between two and three months,” he says. “But I never stopped. Does that make me crazy? That even though she and I were broken up for years, she had a serious boyfriend, and I went on countless dates, I still loved her the whole time? Everyone’s love story is different, Munson. None of them are supposed to be the same or they wouldn’t be special and yours.”

Eddie lets out a deep breath and nods his head.

“Thanks, Harrington.”

“You’re not going to pop the question, are you?” Steve asks.

“No!” Eddie rolls his eyes. “I’m dumb, but I’m not that dumb. We have talked about kids, though. Not like, for now. But talked about if we both want kids in the future.”

“That’s good,” Steve says. “Nance and I have those conversations too. Even if something is years off, it’s still good to know where you both stand.”

“When’d you become the guy to go to for dating advice?” Eddie asks with a smirk.

“Some of it I’ve just absorbed from Robin talking so much,” Steve says. “But Nance and I are really good now. I was bound to learn some things at some point.”

Dustin walks into the kitchen and stops short when he sees the two guys standing there.

“Is everything okay?” he asks.

Eddie walks over and slings his arm over Dustin’s shoulders.

“You’re forgiven,” Eddie says. “You’ve made it up to me.”

“Really?” Dustin asks excitedly.

“Made up for what?” Steve asks.

“When he hit my van,” Eddie says.

“With a car?” Steve’s eyes look like they’re going to pop out of his head.

“Drivers Ed class,” Dustin mumbles.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve says, running a hand over his face. “You’re never driving my car. Not even when you’re thirty.”

“What did I do to make it up to you?” Dustin asks Eddie, ignoring Steve’s remark.

“The Ewok with the pick necklace. She loves it. Like, she really fucking loves it. And you put that smile on her face, so we’re all good.”

“Sweet,” Dustin says.

“He’s forgiven for hitting your car because he got a teddy bear?” Steve asks.

“It’s not a teddy bear,” Eddie and Dustin say at the same time.

Christmas mornings had become less magical since you’d grown up. That thrill of excitement that shoots through you when you see what Santa’s put beneath the tree for you. As you got older, you didn’t care about getting up early to open any gifts. You’d rather get the extra sleep. But this year, waking up in Eddie’s arms, there’s a whole new type of magic surrounding you. He’s still asleep when you open your eyes, and you smile at the sight of him, lips slightly parted, chest steadily rising up and down, his eyelashes fluttering. Your mind cannot comprehend that at one point the whole town hated this sweet boy.

You can tell Eddie’s waking by the way he squirms a little, muscles stretching as life is breathed back into them. He lets out a sigh as he lifts one arm above his head to loosen it up. His eyes blink open and a sleepy smile comes to his lips when he sees you’re already up.

“Merry Christmas,” you say.

“Merry Christmas, gorgeous.”

“How’d you sleep?” he asks, voice still a little hoarse.

“Good. I was exhausted last night,” you say.

“From the party or our after party?” Eddie asks with a smirk.

“Both!”

Eddie chuckles and there’s a soft knock on the door.

“Everyone decent?” Wayne calls.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie mumbles. He rubs one of his eyes with the palm of his hand and peeks under the covers to make sure he’s still got his boxers on. You, of course, had slipped into one of Eddie’s shirts, so you were presentable from the waist up.

“Come in.”

“Merry Christmas,” Wayne says with a smile, eyes crinkled in the corners. “I ran out and got us some doughnuts for breakfast.”

That’s got Eddie sliding out from under the blankets and rummaging around for pants to put on.

“We’ll be right there,” you say. You’ve got to stay put in the bed since you only have your panties on your bottom.

Wayne nods and closes the door behind him.

Both of you and Eddie dressed in warm and comfortable clothes you’d found scattered around the room. The box of donuts is on the coffee table, so Eddie sits on the couch and pulls you down beside him.

“I suppose you want Boston cream,” Eddie says with a smirk.

“You’re so cheesy,” you say, laughing.

He hands you the donut anyway, and practically inhales a glazed donut whole. While you’re still working on your first one, he eats a jelly filled one in two bites.

“Alright,” Eddie says when you’re done. He rubs his hands together in anticipation. “Presents.” He slips off the couch and sits in front of the tree. You come down to join him and he taps his hand against your knee as he looks over the handful of packages laying in wait.

“Wayne first.” Eddie picks up a present with his uncle’s name on it and tosses it over his head to the man. “That’s from the lovely lady sitting on my right.”

Inside there’s a green and gray flannel buried in a mountain of tissue paper, and Wayne smiles as he appraises it.

“Thanks, doll,” he says. “Don’t think I’ve got a green one.”

“Thought it might make you blend in a bit more when you’re fishing,” you say.

“You think the fish can see him up on land?” Eddie asks but Wayne throws a ball of tissue paper at his head before you can respond.

“I’ll save the best for last,” Eddie says. “So I’ll open next.” He picks up Wayne’s gift to him, a small box, and he shakes it near his ear. Since no sound provides him with any clues, he rips the paper off and opens the box. “Oh, thank God! Or well - Wayne. Thank you!” Eddie pulls out new guitar strings and a small baggie stuffed to the brim with picks. “Gonna be playing with my sweetheart later.”

Eddie’s looking down at the gift in his lap as he says it, but you can still see the smirk. You feel the tips of your ears turn red and reach forward to grab a present labeled to you from Wayne.

It’s a larger, flat box that you lay in your lap. Eddie sets the accessories for his guitar down to watch as you strip the box of its paper. Lifting the lid, you gasp when you see the neatly folded kitchen apron. It’s a turquoise material, soft under your fingertips as you touch it. But the best part is your name stitched on the apron in big, purple letters. You lift it from the box and hold the material tight to your chest.

“I love it! Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Wayne chuckles and nods his head.

“Knew after you’ve been cooking for us so well that I should repay the favor. And I figured since you like to be in the kitchen it’ll come in handy.”

“It’s perfect,” you say. “I’m constantly getting flour all over myself, so this will save me from doing a lot of extra laundry.”

Eddie leans forward and scoops up a small box from under the tree.

“Here,” he says, tossing it to Wayne. Once Wayne’s ripped the paper off, he starts laughing, dropping his head forward as his shoulders shake. Eddie’s smirking and you’re looking back and forth between them in confusion.

Wayne holds up the small box and you see it’s a box of condoms.

“Eddie!” But you’re laughing too, not able to actually scold him.

“Ribbed, for your lady friend’s pleasure,” Eddie says and you fall forward in laughter, your head resting on Eddie’s knee.

“You think you’re so funny, boy,” Wayne says, laughter still in his voice as well.

“Well, here.” Wayne tosses a small box to Eddie. When he catches it you see it’s a different box of condoms, this one with a nice red bow taped to it. “We don’t want no little Munsons around here anytime soon.”

Both you and Eddie blush - but definitely more you - despite the fact that you’re both laughing.

There are two more boxes under the tree and one of them is for you.

“I really hope those aren’t condoms,” you say.

“You’ll have to wait and see!” Eddie says as he scoops up his gift from you. It’s a small box, and yet again, he shakes it. There’s a light rattling coming from inside and his brow pinches together.

“Will you stop shaking it?” you ask with a laugh.

“That’s no fun,” Eddie says, but he stops. He rips open the paper and almost rips the small box as he tries to open it. His face splits into a grin when he looks inside. There’s a silver ring with a pair of skeletons hands making a heart. He picks it up out of the box and inspects it in the light. “I love it.”

As you watch his eyes trail over the details, you see him pause when he sees there’s an inscription inside.

“The date we met,” Eddie says. November 28, 1986 is engraved on the inside of the silver ring, and Eddie’s sure he’s never come closer to crying when he’s gotten a gift. “Best day of my life.”

You’re pretty sure he’s only saying that because Wayne is in the room. He’d definitely say it was the other day when you had sex for the first time if it was just the two of you alone.

“Mine too,” you tell him.

He leans over and presses a soft kiss to your lips.

“Thank you. I love it.”

“You’re welcome,” you say.

“Your turn.” Eddie hands you a small box, a little bigger than the one his ring was in.

“Should I shake it?” you ask and he pinches your knee playfully. As impressed as you are with the care Eddie took when wrapping it, you still just tear through the paper. There’s a velvet box inside and you’re already afraid Eddie spent too much on you. Lifting the lid, a silver charm bracelet sits inside. It’s shiny and delicate, and there are three charms attached. You carefully pick it up and bring it closer to your face. The first charm is a music note, which makes you smile. It’s very Eddie. The second charm is a small phone and you blush, knowing what it represents. Eddie chuckles softly at your expression, too lowly for Wayne to hear. The last charm is a beautiful silver “E” with a little jewel dotted in the top corner. This one is automatically your favorite. Whenever you’re sitting in a boring class or just missing your boyfriend, you can look at your wrist and see the pretty reminder of him.

“Eddie, this is so beautiful,” you say. Eddie’s noticed you haven’t taken your eyes off of it yet and it fills him with pride. He’s glad he got something you truly like.

“I figured I could just add a charm every year or something. Maybe like a tradition?”

Hearing him already talk about your next Christmas and starting a tradition with you fills your eyes with tears. You refuse to let them spill over as you launch yourself at Eddie, wrapping your arms around his neck. Traditions weren’t something you had in your life. The thought of having one with Eddie makes your stomach all tingly in the best possible way.

“That sounds perfect,” you tell him. And you mean it.

He hugs you back tightly and you’re sure he can sense how much you need the embrace in that moment.

“Can I put it on you?” Eddie asks.

You nod as you pull back from him, unable to trust your own voice. He takes the bracelet from you and you hold your wrist out. Once he successfully opens the small clasp, he hooks the gift around your wrist. You turn your wrist to inspect it from all angles, heart thrumming in your chest. The silver of his new ring catches your eye and you pick it up.

“Can I put this on you then?” you ask.

“You proposing?” he asks with a smirk, and another wad of tissue paper hits his head. Eddie ignores his uncle though and slips the skull ring he has on his left ring finger and puts it on the middle finger of his right hand.

“Why don’t we wait until we’ve known each other for at least a month before we talk about marriage?” you say, raising your eyebrows at him.

“Sounds fair,” Eddie says with a shrug.

He holds his hand out and you slip the silver skeleton hands down his finger.

“I accept,” Eddie gushes playfully, holding his ringed finger up. You roll your eyes but lean forward to hug him anyway. His harms instantly encircle you and he hugs you close to him.

“Thank you, beautiful,” he mumbles against your head.

“And thank you, handsome.” You look up at him and he presses a quick but sweet kiss to your lips.

“Okay, lovebirds,” Wayne says from behind you. Red creeps on your cheeks as you pull away from Eddie and move to stand up. Eddie follows your lead and stands, bending down to pick up all the discarded wrapping paper.

“Thank you, Wayne,” you say, going over to hug him. “I’m going to use the apron when I make dinner.”

“I’m glad you like it, darlin’,” he says, patting your back.

“And thanks for these,” Eddie says, swiping up the box of condoms. “I’ll make sure and put them to good use.”

“Eddie!” You cover your face and Eddie chuckles, coming over and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Aw, baby,” he coos. “You’re so cute.”

“I’m traumatized, is what I am,” you say.

The dinner you make is simple, but you want to honor the tradition Wayne and Eddie have of having fish for Christmas. The salmon, potatoes, biscuits, and asparagus are served earlier than you’d typically eat dinner, but unfortunately Wayne had to work even though it was Christmas. He said he didn’t mind because he got to spend the morning and most of the day with you two. You manage to keep your apron clean except for one spot of potato on your chest, which Eddie offers to lick off.

After Wayne leaves for work, you and Eddie curl up on the couch, a blanket cocooning the two of you, and watch Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. When it’s over, you start to feel butterflies in your stomach as you think about the other present you bought for Eddie.

He stands up from the couch and turns the television off. The room is cloaked in darkness as he spins around and wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“Ready for bed?”

“Mhmm,” you hum, standing up. You follow him into his room and snatch up the shopping back that you’d hidden in your suitcase. “I’ll be right back.”

Eddie acknowledges you with a hum as you slip down the hall and into the bathroom. When you’d gone shopping the other day with Nancy, you’d bought Eddie’s ring. As you passed a lingerie store later, Nancy joked that you should buy something as a second present for him. You’d surprised her by walking into the store, leaving her outside. Her surprised face as she followed in behind you amused you more than you’d let her know.

In the mirror over the sink in the Munson bathroom, you turn to try and see yourself from all angles. It’s the first time you’ve ever worn anything like this and you feel self conscious. The black lace bustier held your boobs up and together, which even you had to admit, looked damn good. The matching panties and garters holding up the sheer black stockings made you feel sexy. It’s a weird mixture feeling self conscious and sexy at the same time. But you have no doubt Eddie will make you feel beautiful, like he always does.

You step out of the bathroom and your heart races as you make your way back to Eddie’s room. The mattress creaks, which lets you know he’s already on the bed. With a deep breath, you summon the courage and step into his doorway. He’s leaning over to his nightstand, putting the new condom box in next to the current one you’ve been going through.

“Ready to unwrap another present?” you ask. Eddie turns to answer but does a double take when he sees you, his eyes growing wide as saucers. The way he’s staring at you makes heat pool between your legs. It feels like his eyes are burning you as he rakes them up and down your body.

“Holy shit.”

You giggle as you step inside the room, making your way over to the bed. Eddie hurries off the bed, needing to touch you or he’ll combust. His hands find the strip of bare skin between the bustier and the panties, and he settles them there.

“Baby, you look so fucking sexy,” he says. “I mean, you always do, but this outfit? Fuck. You’re going to kill me.”

“Mm,” you hum, resting your hands on his chest. “No dying until I’ve had my fun with you.” You give him a gentle push and he falls back on the bed. When you sink to your knees in front of him he feels like he must be dreaming. You haven't even reached for his belt yet and he already knew he wouldn’t last long. You rub your hand over the growing bulge in his jeans and Eddie throws his head back. The way he reacts to your touch makes you smirk. The handcuff belt that used to give you trouble getting off, now you’re an expert at it as you work your hands at the waistband of his pants. Originally, you were just going to reach into his boxers and pull his cock out, but you decide you want him fully naked. He gets the hint when you start to pull his jeans and boxers down his legs and he lifts his hips to help you. Next you go for his shirt, yanking it over his head and tossing it behind you. You’ll never get over how beautiful he is. His dark hair and dark eyes framing his face, dotted with freckles and highlighted by his pink lips, already parted as his breathing increases. The pale skin of his torso, covered in both tattoos and scars, and his pretty cock, already hard and leaking precum, waiting for your attention. You run your hands up his thighs and dig your fingers in up close to his hips.

“Never done this before,” you tell him, even though he already knows. “Gonna have to tell me what you like.”

“Shit, babe,” he says, voice straining. “Pretty sure your mouth won’t be on me for a minute before I blow my load.”

“I’m doing the blowing,” you say with a pout. Eddie chuckles and reaches out to caress your face.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he says.

“Eddie?” you ask, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I want you to cum in my mouth.”

His dick twitches and he grabs a fistful of the blankets on his bed. You can’t help but smile in satisfaction at how he reacts to your words.

“A-Are you sure?” he asks.

“Mhmm,” you hum as you wrap your hand around the base of him. He nods his head and you start to stroke him a few times. You lean in and give the head a few kitten licks, making a whine escape his throat. When you run your tongue along the vein on the underside of his cock, from base to tip, he shudders and squeezes his eyes shut.

“Jesus Christ,” he pants out.

You can’t help the smile on your face, loving seeing him in so much pleasure. And the fact that you’re the one causing it is making you even wetter. You lower your mouth onto him and his hand instantly grips your hair. It’s not too tight, just enough so he grounds himself. And even though his dick is literally in your mouth, he still feels the need to touch some part of you with his hands.

Trying to remember everything you’ve heard or pieces of advice friends gave about giving head, you take more of Eddie into your mouth, not sure when or if a gag reflex will kick in. The noises he’s making above you encourage you to take him deeper, trying to relax your jaw as you go. You pull back until you’re just sucking on the tip, which has a guttural moan escaping him.

“M’close,” he says.

Your drool is leaking down his cock and you spread it with your hand as you start to pump down at the base. Eddie’s thigh muscles tense on either side of your head and you hollow out your cheeks.

“Fuck! I’m cumming.” One more bob of your head and Eddie is filling your mouth with his sticky release. You take as much of it as you can, some dribbling out the corners of your mouth. Swallowing all that he gives you, you pull back and lick over your lips, trying to get every last drop.

Eddie’s breathing hard as he looks down at you. The way you’re looking up at him through your eyelashes as you clean his cum off your face might be the prettiest sight he’s ever seen.

“How was that?” you ask.

He has no words to respond with, so instead he reaches down and pulls you up from the floor. He lays back on the bed, pulling you on top of him. You place your hand on his chest and his heart is beating so fast that you’re afraid it’s going to jump out of his skin. Hand coming up to tangle in your hair, Eddie brings you down for a messy kiss full of tongue and teeth. His hands slide down to your ass and squeeze.

“I’m not done with you and these yet,” he says, snapping the elastic of the panties against your skin.

“It’s a good thing we’ve got all night then.”

The week after Christmas is full of laughter, friends, sex, snow, and feeling more at home than you should in a place that’s never been your home. The few days Eddie has to work you either spend with Nancy or Max, once even going with Nancy to spend time at Family Video when Steve and Robin were working. The days Eddie had off all started and ended the same - naked - but each day you have a new adventure. One of the most interesting included going on a double date with Wayne and Abigail to a nice restaurant. Both Munson boys dressed in nice shirts and slacks was a rare sight and you were indeed enjoying it. Even if you did have to help both of them pick out what to wear. You’re so focused on what a good time you’re having in Hawkins, and dreading going back to school, you forget all about New Year’s Eve until Eddie brings it up.

“So,” he says once he’s finished giving you your second orgasm of the night. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“And what’s that?” you ask, trying to catch your breath.

“How would you like to go to a concert?”

“A concert?” you ask and Eddie nods. “Who’s playing?”

“Corroded Coffin.”

You sit up straight, jaw dropping open as you look at him.

“You are? I’m going to get to see your band?”

“Talked to them all today,” Eddie says. He smiles and tugs you back down so you’re laying against his chest. “Gareth got us a gig on New Year’s Eve at the place we used to play.”

“I forgot all about New Years,” you say.

“Well, this is the first year I’ll have a New Year’s kiss, so I wasn’t about to forget.”

Your thumb strokes over his skin as you press a few kisses to his bare chest.

“I’m excited!”

“Nancy, Steve, and Robin are coming too,” he tells you.

“Are they going to be embarrassed to be seen with a girl who is clearly trying to get into the lead singer’s pants?”

“Well,” Eddie says, running his fingers up and down your arm. “I hate to disappoint you, but I hear he has a girlfriend.”

“That’s a shame,” you say.

“Heard she’s gorgeous, too. Like, the most beautiful girl ever.”

“Well, he’s so sexy, he definitely deserves a girl like that.”

Eddie chuckles and leans down to press his lips against yours.

Even though it’s so cold out, you insist on wearing a Corroded Coffin t-shirt to The Hideout. You layer a cardigan over it and your coat on top as you help Eddie load his guitar and amp into the van. He stares at your ass as he helps you into the van, eyes taking in your tights and skirt.

“Being a perv?” you ask once you’re in your seat.

“For you? Always.” He presses a kiss to the back of your hand before heading around to the driver’s side.

The Hideout is pleasantly full when you arrive, and Eddie takes you backstage to introduce you to the other guys.

“This is Gareth, Jeff, and Andy,” Eddie introduces, pointing to each man in turn.

“Holy shit, she is real,” Gareth says.

Eddie rolls his eyes and rests his arm over your shoulders.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you tell them. “I’m excited to hear you perform.”

“I heard it was your idea,” Jeff says, but you shake your head.

“All I did was ask if I could hear Eddie’s band play. He took it from there.”

“You’re sticking around after the set, right?” Andy asks.

“Of course,” you say.

“Oh good, we have a hundred stories to tell you about Eddie,” Gareth says.

“Alright,” Eddie says with a sigh. “I’m going to walk you to your seat now.”

You giggle as Eddie leads you away from the guys, but you can hear one of them whispering loudly to the others as you leave.

“Damn, Eddie got a hot girlfriend.”

Your friends are already there and at a table near the stage when Eddie walks you back out to the front. Robin waves you over and you give Eddie a kiss and tell him to break a leg before you go over to them.

“Looks like we’ve got a groupie here,” Robin says, gesturing to your shirt.

“I think she’s hoping to score one of the band members,” Nancy adds with a smirk.

“Maybe,” you say with a shrug as you take your seat.

The lights dim and you squirm in your seat, excited nerves taking over your body. Steve smiles to himself as he watches you, knowing you’re just as deep in it for Eddie as he is for you.

When Eddie walks out on stage with his guitar, you squeeze your thighs together in your seat. He looks insanely sexy all the time, but seeing him strut out like a rockstar has you even more feral for him. With a smirk, he throws a wink your way as he adjusts the microphone.

“Well, hello, Hideout,” Eddie says and there are a few scattered cheers across the bar. “It’s been a minute since we’ve played together, but we’re back for a special reunion this New Year’s Eve.”

Robin subtly nudges Nancy in her ribs and nods her head towards you, where you’re looking at Eddie with almost literal heart eyes. When he begins to strum his guitar, Nancy thinks you just might pass out. By the second song you’re standing, dancing around to the band’s songs. The way you’re moving and swaying your hips has Eddie glad his guitar is held in front of his crotch.

It’s not long before your friends join you in your dancing, and eventually all people at the tables closest to the stage are on their feet. Sweat pours down Eddie’s face and you’re surprised when you have the urge to lick it off. Wouldn’t be the first time you’d licked something off of him.

During the last song, Eddie kneels down on one knee in front of you and tilts your chin up to press a possessive kiss to your lips. Your knees go weak and your tummy flip flops. When he pulls back he gives you another wink before finishing the song. It wouldn’t surprise you if your voice was gone tomorrow after shouting and screaming so loud for the band. And then maybe some more when you guys got home.

It’s 11:30 pm when the guys come out from backstage and join you at the table with the others. The bar has some music playing over the speakers now that isn’t nearly as good as Corroded Coffin’s music was, but no one’s paying any attention to it anyway. Your table is full and everyone’s shouting over one another and laughing so hard they’re practically crying. Jeff tells you about the time Eddie got detention for smoking weed in the gym, but Gareth tells you that was nothing compared to the time he got caught trying to break into a teacher’s car to try and steal the answer guide to a test. Eddie’s groaning and rolling his eyes, but you can tell he’s happy to be surrounded by his old friends. You smile to yourself how they all keep teasing him. How Wayne tries to embarrass him. It’s because they care so deeply about him.

At five minutes to midnight the bar announces the time and everyone starts to get ready for the big countdown. Somehow Steve found some party hats and everyone at the table was wearing one now. Eddie has you practically in his lap, ready for your midnight kiss. Steve has his arm around Nancy’s chair and she’s leaning into him. A girl who wandered from her own friend group over to yours is cuddled up with Jeff, so you’re pretty sure he’s set for a kiss as well. Gareth tries to talk Robin into giving him a midnight kiss but she shudders and physically pushes his face away from her when he tries to get too close.

“One minute, everyone!” a waitress calls out.

There are murmurs around the bar, then everyone begins to count down from sixty.

“To a happy New Year!” Steve says, raising his glass.

“To an amazing 1987!” Andy echoes.

All of you clink glasses in cheers before Eddie pulls you fully into his lap.

“I was going to say I don’t know how 1987 could possibly be better than 1986,” Eddie starts.

You raise an eyebrow and lean in so only he can hear you.

“You mean the year that you discovered there’s a secret dimension under your town and you almost died?”

“Let me finish,” Eddie says, tickling your sides. “I was gonna say that because 1986 is the year I met you. But I only got to know you for about five weeks this year. Next year it’ll get to be a whole fifty-two.”

It may have only been about five weeks but you already know you’ll never get used to him saying such sweet things to you. You lean in to kiss him, but he holds up a finger to your lips to stop you.

“Ah-ah-ah,” he tuts. “You still have to wait another fourteen seconds.”

The bar gets louder.

Ten.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

Six.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

Eddie cups your jaw in his hand and presses his lips firmly against yours. One hand makes its way to his hair as you kiss him, smiling into it the whole time. When you pull apart, he’s smiling as well. He rests his forehead against yours and you tangle your fingers with his in your lap.

“Happy New Year, baby.”

“Happy New Year, Eddie.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #WTHI

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sunflowersandsapphires · 5 months

Text

Tis the Damn Season

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

summary: Based on a request from the lovely @dorothleah, Matt and his childhood best friend have a realization at Christmastime.

warnings: smut adjacent times (it’s just spicy towards the end, nothing graphic), descriptions of family holidays (they’re positive), Christmas specific, swearing

A/n: ahhhhh this one was so difficult to write—I really hope I did the prompt justice. (Also, this is set early on in S1 but let’s just pretend that all the bombing stuff didn’t happen bc that would definitely overshadow Matt’s holidays. Plus Mrs. Cardenas was an Angel so she is still alive and living her best life somewhere outside of this piece because I said so.)

w/c: ~4k

Breathing deeply, you couldn’t help but smile as the bitter cold wind swirled around you. Despite the extreme temperatures, winter in New York was beautiful. Layers of silver clouds drifted through the city, muting the constant stream of artificial light into something less aggressive, more ethereal. The thin layer of snow covering every exposed surface created a gorgeous blank slate of sorts, like an untouched page in a child’s coloring book. Monotone and full of possibilities. It was a sight you missed dearly, so much so that your heart flipped every year when you stepped out of the airport and back into the city you were raised in.

California was beautiful too, of course–not that you’d gotten to see much of it between your 8 years of post-secondary school and 2.5 years of residency so far. Even summer breaks had been spent studying or interning, rather than visiting the gorgeous beaches or tourist attractions across the state. When you found yourself swamped with work and longing for a break, you never dreamed of California, though. Only of New York.

Which is why the winter holidays were so important to you now. This was the only opportunity you had to visit family, to visit Matt. Most years, you spent about a week with your family for Christmas and spent a few wonderful evenings with your beloved childhood-best-friend-turned-charitable-defense-attorney, but this year was unique.

After encouraging your parents to take a much needed vacation, you’d mentioned to Matt that you were struggling to find a hotel to house you for the holidays. Charming and protective man that he was, he was appalled that you hadn’t asked to stay with him instead–arguing passionately with you until you agreed to stay at his loft for a couple days rather than spend the holidays alone.

Which led you on the snow-laced journey from the baggage claim to Matt’s front door, which you studied apprehensively, hand frozen in a fist that hadn’t yet knocked. The fluttering in your stomach was inevitable, your nerves always acted up when you saw Matt, but it was especially intense when your mind was occupied with the knowledge that you’d be surrounded by him and his things for a weekend.

Blowing out a breath, you let your eyes fall shut as you knocked rapidly on the door, the percussive sound echoing the pulsing in your ears. Footsteps padded down the hallway towards you, halting at the door as it slowly creaked open.

“Hi Matty,” Your voice was quiet, your cheeks blooming with warmth as he grinned at you. His beautiful smile hadn’t changed at all, still revealing the wit and mischief of the 14 year old you’d met all those years ago at St. George College Prep.

His signature red glasses twinkled with the reflection of the flickering hallway lights. “Long time, no see, sweetheart.”

As the familiar joke vaporized your anxiety, you dove into his open arms with a squeal. He was as warm and muscular as ever, his arms tightening around you as if waiting for you to dissolve. You weren’t sure how long you stood there, basking in the comfort of his embrace and letting it melt a year of stress away.

While you were enjoying the first hug you’d received in too long, Matt remained almost rigid beneath your touch–his brain counting every second and wondering where the line would need to be drawn. He could have stayed in your grasp all day, but that wasn’t what “friends” did, right? Inhaling deeply, he pulled away from you.

“C’mon, sweet girl, let’s get you inside and warmed up.” Taking your hand, Matt guided you down the hallway and into his apartment, the sight of which made you gasp.

Strings of multicolored lights were strung around the perimeter, wrapped around every available surface in a festive tangle. A small, but otherwise impressive, fir tree stood against the massive paneled windows, smattered with glittering ornaments and candy canes.

The air suddenly felt forced out of your lungs, your breath staggering like a newborn foal as you surveyed every inch of the apartment. When your parents had booked their holiday cruise, you’d been slightly devastated–which wasn’t fair of you, since you’d encouraged them to get away for the month, but that didn’t stop your heart from aching at the thought of the traditions you’d miss. Christmas was your parents’ favorite holiday, and they went all out each year–decorating the house with gorgeous poinsettias and tinsel, buying the largest tree they could find at the local farm, stringing lights around the entire house. The festive beauty of your family home was one of your favorite sights, and you weren’t ready for the absence of decor.

But the absence never came, because you had Matt, the most amazing best friend a girl could ask for. The man who knew you inside out, and had anticipated your reaction to skipping a family Christmas, taking it upon himself to make up for their departure.

Biting your lips as tears threatened to fall, you let Matt enfold you in another hug, a drop of moisture rolling down your cheek when his lips pressed against your forehead.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

“You did all this for me? Matt, I–” Withdrawing from the shelter of his arms, you strode around the apartment, running your fingers along the wires Matt had painstakingly decked his apartment with.

“Before you get too grateful, you should know that Foggy helped.” Matt laughed, rocking from foot to foot as he waited for you to take it all in.

Giggling at his glowing blush, you nodded, “Well, you both did an amazing job. Ugh, I could kiss you right now!”

The words slipped out of your mouth without a thought, but they froze Matt in place.

Your relationship with him was unlike any of the other friendships he held. There was a flicker of something deeper–a tense heat simmering underneath every touch, a magnetism that simultaneously drew you together and forced you apart.

After knowing you for 15 years, Matt could read you as if you were composed of braille. Every inhale, every pulse of your heart, every flutter of arousal from you crafted a story of love that he was terrified of losing. Neither of you could handle the stress of a long distance relationship. So, he held you close while keeping you at arm’s length.

Or, at least, he had. The urge to abandon all logic and act on his wildest desires was growing stronger by the minute. Treading over to where you stood, admiring the Christmas tree, Matt encircled your waist with his arms, tilting his nose against your temple.

“I missed you.” He murmured against your cheek.

“I missed you too, handsome. So much.” You leaned backwards into Matt’s firm chest, tangling your fingers with his.

Swaying slightly as he held you, Matt stayed silent, allowing you to soak up every ounce of joy from each tiny detail of the holiday ambiance he had painstakingly put together. Sure, it had been a chore, but it was absolutely worth it for the skip of your heart beat, the stutter of your breath as you held back happy tears. He’d do anything to give you the Christmas you deserved, and that included enlisting Foggy as his eyes for a week of decorating.

Because he was human, and his patience could only be strained so much, he eventually pressed a kiss to your head and spun you to face him. “Ok, I think it’s about time for me to pull my responsible host card and remind you that you need to eat.”

Laughing at his smirk, you nodded eagerly. “You’re right, I’m starving.”

“Really? I had no idea.” Matt gasped in feigned surprise, sparking another round of giggles from you.

“Shut up, asshole. I was admiring your hard work! Isn’t that what you wanted me to do?” You shoved at Matt’s chest fondly.

“You’re right, I apologize,” Matt chuckled with you, rocking backwards after your playful push. “Have a taste for anything in particular?”

“Anywhere you want to take me, Matty.” You grinned.

_____________________________________________________________________

Nearly tripping over a crack in the sidewalk as you laughed brightly, you were launched into another set of giggles as Matt caught you by the elbow. Comfortably full after dining at Matt’s new favorite Thai place, the two of you ambled around the city catching up on the last year.

“Christ, you’re going to break something.” Matt sighed, but he was beaming at you. “That would honestly serve you right, though, after laughing at my pain.”

“I’m sorry Matty, but the idea of you wearing one of those bikini body shirts is amazing. Foggy is a pranking genius!” You crooned, jealous that you hadn’t been there to witness the practical joke.

“This from the woman who tricked me ruthlessly every April Fool’s Day.” Matt shook his head, biting back a grin as his mind flooded with memories from your shared childhood.

“Oh please, toothpaste oreos and salted coffee is child’s play, Murdock.” You jested, letting your joined arms grow taut as you leaned towards an enticing display in the window of a store you were passing.

“Hmm, well I’ll continue waiting for an apology then.” Matt turned his nose into the air teasingly.

“Should I buy you another Christmas gift to make up for the torture I put you through?” Without waiting for a response, you entered the doorway of the quiet little shop you’d been admiring, drawing Matt up the steps after you.

Carefully studying the rows of vibrantly colored trinkets, you felt an overwhelming sense of peace as you wandered the store. You let your mind wander as you ran your fingers along the rack of knit sweaters you were ogling. Somewhere in the rush to look through the myriad of options, you’d dropped Matt’s hand. Swiveling your head over your shoulder, your heart jumped when you didn’t see Matt behind you.

Before you had a chance to panic, a calloused hand tangled with yours, tucking you back into your friend’s warm side.

“God, Matty, I thought I lost you!”

“Don’t fret, sweetheart, I’ll always find you.” Matt murmured, his voice steady with truth as he kissed your temple.

Leaning into his touch, your heart twirled at the sentiment, emotions welling up in your throat. Squeezing Matt’s hand, you coughed around the lump in your esophagus, eyes once again roaming the row of sweaters. “Did you want to get out of here? You said we were meeting your friends tonight, right?”

“Yes,” Matt answered, a bit hastily given that he was still trying to decipher your reaction to his words. “Uh, yah, we aren’t too far from Josie’s.”

“Oh my god, you didn’t tell me we’re meeting at Josie’s! Fuck, I’m glad the place hasn’t been condemned after all these years.”

“Foggy and I have done our due diligence. The health department must have our pictures taped over dart boards by now.”

“My two favorite menaces to society,” You laughed. “I’m embarrassed to admit that you may have to lead me there. My navigation of the city is a bit rusty this year.”

“You’ve been away too long.” Matt tutted in disapproval. “Far too long.”

You grew silent beside him, your fingers twitching in his hold. “I know, Matty.”

“Sorry I didn’t mean—“ He started but you interrupted.

“Oh, I know you didn’t. And I miss you too.” Matt withheld from turning to you in surprise before you corrected your statement. “I mean, I miss you and my family and the city, you know? I love California, it’s just not the same.”

Cursing yourself for fumbling over your words instead of just admitting to Matt how much you wanted to stay here with him, you tugged at your lower lip with your teeth to keep from rambling any further. Twin blooms of heat pricked across your cheeks, your eyes falling shut with regret and longing.

Matt bumped your hip with his. “Hey, don’t go quiet on me. We still have more catching up to do.”

The corner of your mouth twitched into a small smile. “Oh yah?”

“Of course! I haven’t even told you about the kitchen fire that Foggy set at Landman and Zach in the spring.”

Snorting in disbelief, you shook your head. “How on earth did you two not get fired?”

“He blamed it on a partner.” Matt grinned, making you chuckle.

The walk to Josie’s was short and filled with pleasant conversation, despite the brief hiccup. When you finally reached the familiar dive bar, you inhaled deeply, smiling at the sour odor of stale beer and tobacco.

Inside, the sticky floors and dim lighting immediately transported you back to the first time Matt brought you here, begging you to come with him to the “Jewel of Hell’s Kitchen”. Sure, it was more cubic zirconia than a diamond in the rough, but you understood why Matt loved it. The atmosphere was unmistakably familiar. No bells and whistles, just cheap beer and good company.

“This way,” Matt lead you further into the establishment, waving at Foggy and a gorgeous blonde woman who were seated near the windows.

Foggy leapt up to tackle you in a hug as soon as you were within hugging distance, crushing your lungs before you could laugh. “God, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

“Way to rub it in, bud.” Matt scoffed, smirking when his business partner gave an exaggerated eye roll.

“You’ve seriously got to teach me how to keep him in line.” Foggy sighed, scowling at the dark-haired man.

“You think I know how to do that?” You chuckled incredulously. “I’m not sure that’s possible without divine intervention.”

“C’mon, you’re practically the Matt-tamer.” Foggy cajoled, spinning around to face the table. “Karen, Matt-tamer. Matt-tamer, meet our lovely receptionist, Karen Page.”

Laughing as Foggy gestures towards the seated woman, you gave her your real name.

Karen smiled brightly, reaching her hand out for you to shake.

“You know, I could’ve introduced her myself. She is my friend, after all.” Matt pouted and you grinned, placing a hand on his arm.

“We all know you would have done a great job introducing me, Matty.” You snorted, rolling your eyes to Foggy.

“Um, are we not going to comment on the fact that I’m apparently not allowed to be friends with you?” Foggy asked, taking his seat beside Karen again.

“I didn’t say that!” Matt argued, sliding into the other side of the booth.

As Matt and Foggy bickered, you and Karen exchanged a knowing smile before you headed to the bar.

Waving as you spotted Josie’s stony face, you couldn’t help but smile when she rounded the bar to give you a one-armed hug. “Hey, kid. We’ve missed ya around here.”

“So I’ve heard,” You chuckled. “Can I get a couple of beers?”

“Your boyfriend letting you pay for the drinks?” Josie shook her head in distaste.

Almost dropping the two beers she’d passed you, your mouth dropped open in surprise. “Oh, uh…”

“C’mon, don’t tell me he hasn’t made a move yet. Poor kid acts like ya hung the moon.”

Chuckling awkwardly, you shrugged. “We’re just friends, Josie.”

“Yah, yah. Heard that one before.” Josie sighed, shooing you back to the table.

Trying to refocus after her comment, you plastered a smile back on your face and took your seat next to Matt, handing him his beer.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” He leaned against you and your skin burned. You could practically hear Josie raising her eyebrows from across the bar.

“You ok?” Matt asked, tilting his head towards you. “Did Josie snap at you or something?”

“You have to cut her some slack, she’s working hard to keep this place afloat.” Foggy frowned in sympathy.

“Oh no, nothing like that, she just caught me off guard is all.” You reassured, willing your body to relax into Matt’s hold.

“How so?” Karen asked with genuine curiosity.

“Oh, er, she asked me if…” Looking at Matt hesitantly, you let the words tumble out before you could fib. “She was wondering if Matt and I were dating.”

“What did you say?” Matt murmured.

“I told her the truth. Though, I wonder if I should’ve said we were, that was always easier.” You sighed, shifting in your seat uncomfortably.

“Always?” Karen asked, eyebrows shooting skyward.

“When we were kids, people always assumed we were dating. Eventually, it was easier to say yes than explain anything.” Matt explained with a shrug.

Foggy smiled, “Ah, so this has nothing to do with the fact that you both act like you’re dating for a weekend every year?”

You and Matt immediately grew defensive, spitting out two remarks at the same time.

“We do not—“

“Are you kidding me—“

But the realization of how close you were sitting to Matt made you pause. The man in question seemed to have the same epiphany because you both jumped apart with a huff.

Foggy and Karen exchanged a glance before nodding. Clapping his hands together, Foggy changed the subject.

“So…how’s California treating our favorite medical student?”

————————————-

Sitting on the worn leather couch in Matt’s living room, you blinked sleepily, the bright LED string lights coming back into focus as you reopened your eyes. You’d hoped that the beautifully decorated tree would draw you out of your thought spiral, but it was only fueling your rapid fire thoughts. Fidgeting with the fabric of the cushion you were sitting on, you couldn’t help but think of Foggy and Josie’s parallel accusations.

You and Matt were close, that was true, but you didn’t “act like you were dating”…did you? Sure, you were pretty much constantly touching each other, and you had nicknames for each other, but that was all platonic.

Or was that just what you’d told yourself? To let yourself sign off on the emotional turmoil you experienced every year when you had to leave the man that you loved.

Fuck. You loved Matt.

“What are you thinking about?” Matt’s voice startled you, your body jumping a few inches off the couch. Handing you the mug of hot chocolate he’d prepared for you, Matt took a seat next to you, his brow folding in concern.

“Oh, uh, nothing, Matty.” You lied unconvincingly.

With a snort, Matt shuffled closer, placing a hand on your knee. “You’re a terrible liar, sweetheart. What’s on your mind?”

“Did it…bother you? What Foggy said, about us?” You asked timidly, biting your lip when his hand stilled on your leg.

“Did it bother you?” He parrots, his voice uncharacteristically small.

Laughing despite the thick tension clouding around you, you shoved your shoulder against his. “I asked you first, Murdock.”

“Fair enough.” Matt chuckled nervously, exhaling quickly before answering, “No. It didn’t bother me.”

“Permission to ask you a follow up question?” It was risky to ask for further clarification before answering yourself, but you needed to know.

“That seems like cheating, but I’ll allow it.” Matt jested, his worry poorly concealed behind his teasing tone.

“Why didn’t it bother you?”

For an intense moment, your soft question was met with icy silence. Then, he responded with a warmth you’d never heard from him. “Because I’ve known exactly what I’ve wanted with you since we met all those years ago. And, consciously or not, I decided to enjoy my time with you in that way.”

Mouth falling agape, you pondered the answer for a moment. Had you been seeking that with him too? Is that why you were more than ok with the state of your relationship every year?

Interpreting your failure to speak as unease, Matt apologized. “I’m sorry. If I’d known that you were uncomfortable about it, I wouldn’t have–”

“I never said I wasn’t ok with it, Matty.” Your voice was deep with want, your eyes focused on every twitch of his facial muscles as he processed your response. “I’ve wanted more with you for years, I just thought I was better at hiding it than I apparently was.”

Matt chuckled, resting his forehead against yours. “We’re idiots, aren’t we?”

Matt’s breath heated your face, his lips felt too far away despite them hovering over your nose. Leaning into him, you crossed the invisible boundary you’d been dancing around for over a decade. “That depends on what we do next.”

Matt’s sharp inhale sparked a shiver down your spine. Settling one hand on your waist, the other cupped your chin gently. “Do I have permission to kiss you?”

“You fucking better, Murdock.” You murmured, hands wrapping around his nape as he closed the distance between your mouths.

As his plush lips met yours, the air was forced from your lungs. The evening ambiance of the city was drowned out by the blood rushing in your ears. A jolt of adrenaline, that was heavily threaded with pure need shocked your system, drawing a soft loan from your vocal chords as his tongue prodded your bottom lip.

“Matty, please,” You whimpered as he withdrew his mouth from yours.

“What do you want, sweetheart? Use your words for me.” Matt’s smug tone prompted another moan from you.

“Want you. Please.”

“Anything for you, love.” Hiking you into his arms, Matt wove his lips between yours again as he carried you to the bedroom.

————————————

Scrunching your nose against the chill that overtook you as your foot slipped out from underneath the blankets, you retracted your leg, settling back into the cocoon of sheets and muscular arms with a sigh. Unfortunately, the abrupt temperature change had shocked your consciousness out of slumber, and now you had to face the consequences of whatever had happened last night.

Your bare back was pressed against Matt’s warm chest, each inhale of his lungs jostling you with a comforting rhythmic motion. His hands were joined atop your stomach, his thumbs rubbing circles into your skin. Whining softly, you pressed backwards into his hold, his arms tightening instinctively as you did so.

“Morning.” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple.” The feeling of his lips dancing across the thin skin on your head was pleasant, until your brain reminded you just how fleeting this moment would be.

“Morning.” You responded, your tone revealing your nerves.

“Hey, I can hear you working yourself up. Talk to me. Are you ok?” Matt’s brow furrowed, his blank eyes darting around you as he sat up to study you closely.

“I’m ok, Matty. Just…thinking about us, is all.” You shrugged, eyes falling closed as he placed kisses down your neck.

Hesitating before planting a kiss on your collar bone, his voice quieted. “Do you regret it?”

“Absolutely not.” Using two fingers to turn his face to you, you drew him in for a deep kiss. “God, you make me so happy, Matt. But I still have a few months left in my residency.”

“I know, sweetheart.” The clear disappointment in Matt’s voice almost shattered your composure.

“I wish things were different.” You sighed, resting your foreheads together.

“Don’t say that. You are getting a fantastic education so you can become the best pediatrician the world has ever seen. We can enjoy our time together now, that’s enough for me.” Matt’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, but his optimism was contagious.

“And in April?” Matt’s hand came to cup your cheek.

“I’ll be here, waiting for you, as long as you want me.”

“I’ll always want you, Matt Murdock.” You promised, threading your fingers into his hair as he kissed you with a smile.

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