#but i am deathly scared to do that :) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kizoken · 3 months

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❝𝐈 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐈𝐌 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐀 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐊

𝐆. 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 ❞

✶ smut ; afab!reader , jealous ex suguru , rich girl!reader , oral , little angst , suguru jerks off with reader's panties , alcohol , make up sex , toxic relationship , biker!suguru .

✶ word count ; 1.4k

✶ m.list & request

✶ ❝took me fifteen centuries to get back on the grind but, whatever.❞

"he's staring at you...again." your friend yelled to you through the booming music. you frowned and stopped kissing the random cute guy that approached you. wiping your mouth, you asked her where he was.

"sitting by the bar." lo and behold, a daring and deathly stare was directed your way. but not to you precisely, to the random man that was taking advantage of your generosity. or that is what he thought. his gaze then set on yours and he smiled.

your face contorted at the sight of your ex-boyfriend's lurking eyes and shifted your attention to where you previously were. but the man you were making out was nowhere to be seen.

"suguru!" you cursed to yourself; it was clear this disappearance was orchestrated by him. "you called angel." his voice soft and tantalizing in your ear made you jolt back in disdain.

"you fucking asshole!" you looked at him, dead in the eye. "what did you do?!" he does this all the time, scaring your hook-ups away efficiently like a wonder pesticide. every move of his were foreign to your understanding, nevertheless, deep in the psyche of your mind you found this behavior cute.

"just watching out for the prettiest girl here...can't i?" he smiled and placed a hand at the side of your neck. the friend that announced you suguru geto was prowling around, swiftly began to intervene before you settled her down.

"love the thought! though worry about yourself and your people rather than you ex. it's not a good look on you." you give him a sour smile. "makes you look like a stalker."

"don't call me that angel!" he pouted, "i can't help that every day i spend without your company is misery; how could i not miss you?" you despised how he tugged at your heart strings the way that he did. his deep voice purring how much he wanted you back, needed you or missed you. shame on you if you were going to get fooled a second time, you were not going to let yourself be with a man that had any woman at his disposition at his back and call. even when he had you.

but lord, did he make you feel like the only girl his eyes have ever seen, whose touch he's ever felt, whose lips he's ever kissed. you had everything at your beck and call, nothing was out of your grasp, except suguru geto and his fickle heart.

even if your fiery feelings were creeping back, rationality has yet to abandon you. "suguru; i am so not falling for your dirty, empty words— go and mind torture some other girl than me. i've had enough of you."

suguru was completely taken aback by your words. the last thing he wanted was to make you too uncomfortable, just a little tease here and there. but his intentions of going back to you were in his capabilities, sincere. "oh-i, i apologize," he took a deep breath, "let me make it up to you, yeah?"

"...fine." you conceded, too mentally drained by him, and you might as well take him for his money's worth, even when you could pay our own drinks. the booming music from the club was making you sick at this point, and you really wanted to go home. "don't try a thing."

you would regret not fighting enough to keep those words as they were. it was a terrible idea to take him up on his proposal to take you back to your parent's place. the terrible decisions began to pile up as you clutched yourself around his toned torse in the bike you knew all too well. arriving to your parents' and offering him a drink at their bar. the alcohol mixed with undying feelings for your ex-boyfriend led you to seek the comfort of his lips once again.

suguru happily obliged to your necessities, he was obviously subduing his as well. "i missed you so much..." you say between desperate kisses, halting yourself and placing your hand onto his chin gaining his full attention, "i fucking hate it; i hate you."

"don't say that beautiful...let me make you love me again, hmm?" he pouted, his sneaky hands trailed to settle on your ass, squeezing lightly but as a sign of him wanting more and masking his disdain by your words with his cheekiness. geto's drunken lips placed themselves around the cervices of your neck, making you remember how good he made you feel, no matter what.

you fell headfirst to his charming touch and began to let those barriers you have set up so high up to crumble, and just let yourself go. geto held on to your body, gripping it like the most coveted prize he's been fighting for. you both stumble up through the stairs, never leaving each other's lips.

geto knew exactly where you were taking him, your old room. as he stepped in deeper, memories of sneaking in from the window in his youth flashed through his mind. he laughed reminiscing about it, sweeping off your feet to hold you in the air he said; "remember the countless times i ran out the window without pants?"

"how could i forget," you giggled, "you always looked ridiculous." geto grumbled in playful annoyance as he threw you into the queen-sized bed.

"was i?" you nod.

he could not contain his smile, "anything to make you smile princess, even if i'm a fucking joke."

and so, it was mere seconds before your ex-lover was making you scream his name in ecstasy. geto delighted himself by how your pussy sucked him in vigorously.

the wet, sloppy noises of your cunt and geto's thighs slapping against yours echoed through your former bedroom. "yes~ sugu~ ah! moreee~!"

you loved that about him, how filthy he was in his pounding. your mewls hit a higher pitch as he began to play with your left nipple and your clit with his fingers. his thrusting never ceased, hitting every sweet spot there is to his knowledge.

"sugu~ your mouth...i-i ah" geto let out a moan, knowing exactly what you desired from him, and clamped harder on your bud. "fuck me with your mouth!"

"i need it hgn~ please, please, love!" your ex melted at your words; it was something he's been missing to hear. and none other girl could say to make him oblige to every word the way that you did.

"is that so pretty girl, you want my tongue inside your cunt?" he teased, loving the way you panted and twitched in desperation.

"yes! suguru, my pussy, use it, it's hgn~ ah! all yours..." your fingernails and tips dug around the muscular flesh of his arms, "always been."

the electric feeling induced you to keep your eyes shut during your plead. however you would instantly jolt, and your eyes opened fully as you sensed geto's skillful tongue tease a swipe all around your pussy.

"oh, yes!" you squeal, taking in every inch of his wet muscle's feel. geto's hands held on tightly around your thighs, caressing the plump skin of your legs. but he wanted to further feel your body, eager to reminisce how it used to feel.

relishing in the ensuring pleasure, you were surprised to feel geto's sturdy hand reach out for your own as it laid clench on your chest. you loosen your grip once you feel his touch.

your moans never failed to vibrate in the spacious room, inciting your ex-lover to grant a generous relief to his shaft. though in his mind it was not enough, so he rummaged throughout the messy sheets into finding a thin, small fabric you own.

geto unfolded the scrunched underwear and placed it on his cock, he began to caress himself around with the help of your panties. he stuttered as he pumped his relief while using something only of your own usage, as well as being one of the most private things a person could possess. his oral performance rallied all over your pussy.

the soft fabric of your panties made your ex moan, whimper and lap at your pussy with his tongue like a starved man, it sent you to overdrive, cumming all over his face.

"sugu, fuck, so good...keep it up." and those heavenly squeals of yours mixed with alcohol and tiredness, shoot heavy strings of his cum into your underwear with no remorse. taking a few, heavy breaths in, he calmed himself down and began to trail kisses around your body until it fell on your lips.

"can i stay?" he said with a cheeky tone and a full grin as he placed himself beside you. geto trails his arms on your naked torso, embracing you while waiting for your answer.

still panting and exhausted, though enjoying his comfort, you say, "fine."

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neil-gaiman · 11 months

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hi neil !

i have to write a short story for the final assignment worth 90% of my creative writing uni module, it has to be 4k words. i’ve been putting it off for months because 1) i’ve been depressed and can’t find the motivation to do anything, 2) im deathly scared of it being bad because 3) graduating my course counts on the grade i’ll get for it. writing and reading has been a huge motivator to not give up on a future for myself. i am basically terrified of writing and submitting it. all the ideas i have feel bad, or i can’t execute them, or it’s not what the marker would be looking for. i’ve had the deadline extended into summer but i just can’t bring myself to write anything. how do you make yourself write when it matters so much? when something big rests on its quality, and it scares you?

thank you so much :)

There was a colourist I knew who wanted more than anything to colour a comic book I was writing. I got him pages early to start colouring, talked to him about what we were trying to achieve. He was really smart and brilliant and I knew he'd do a great job. The editor was waiting for his work to come in.

He may have started. He may not. I don't know. All I know is he was so obsessed with it being perfect that he never sent the pages in. The person who wound up colouring the comic got the job because we were out of time and our first choice had never sent anything to the editor.

The moral I took from this is that any work, no matter how bad, is better than no work, no matter how brilliant.

I pass this along to you, in the hope that it helps. Divide 4000 by how many days you have to go, and then double that. That's what you have to write each day to get 4K written, with enough time to revise it thoroughly on the other side. Get anything down in the first half of the time. Make it brilliant in the second half of the time.

Good luck.

#how to work #making things #finishing things #you can do it

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hotmencore · 8 months

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“𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞” 𝐂𝐋𝟏𝟔

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x girlfriend!reader (she/her)

Summary: You accompany Charles on his private jet overseas for the first time, failing to remember to tell him that you are deathly scared of take offs.

Warnings: Mild language, pure fluff/ comfort

Word count: 600+

A/N: I apologise for how long this has taken me. I have started sixth form recently, so have been focusing on that for the past few weeks. I wasn't sure how to go with this after it being in my drafts for months, so I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think.

Likes and reblogs are much appreciated! Copying and reposts are not! My fics are only posted on tumblr, under this account, @hotmencore

“Come on chérie, the plane is ready” Charles tells you softly, breaking your attention away from the book you had held in your hands.

Held? Well, more like clutched with pure fear. Fear? Well, planes, you aren’t scared of. Being thousands of metres up in the air? Fine. But take off? You would rather swim the whole way there than experience it once more. And this tiny little inconvenience, you happened to forget to tell Charles about. This trip was a last minute decision that was made by the both of you, and the spontaneity of it made you completely forget about telling him.

So here you are, mentally having to scream at yourself to actually get up, as your legs wouldn’t move by themselves. You stand up and place your hand in Charles' outstretched one, following after him to the jet.

Charles steps aside to let you on first, his hand naturally falling to the small of your back. You both take your seats sat across from each other, and Charles instantly takes notice of your death grip on both arms of the chair. He leans forwards in his own seat, placing his elbows on the table between you both.

"Are you okay chérie?" He asks, his tone subtly laced with concern. He gives you a second to answer him, though no response comes. Your head stays back on the rest behind you, your eyes tightly shut.

"Y/N?" Charles tries once again to gain your attention, and only now do you open your eyes and look at your boyfriend in front of you.

"Hm?" You answer in a hum, his worry only increasing with your half-hearted reply.

"Are you alright?" He asks, tilting his head down to get his question across to you.

"Y-yeah i'm fine" you say with a half smile. But it didn't convince your boyfriend one bit.

He leant back in his seat for a second, a light chuckle escaping his lips, "Okay okay let me rephrase, what is wrong? I can tell something is bothering you" Charles softly replies, leaning forwards again to keep your attention on him.

You breathe out almost hesitantly, but the kind persistence in Charles' eyes is telling you that he will get it out of you sooner or later. You place your elbows onto the small table, to sit your head in your hands.

“Take offs” you breathe out, though to Charles it only comes out as a muffled sound from behind your hands.

“What? Chérie, move your hands away, i cannot hear you” he chuckles lightly as he reaches forwards to delicately remove your hands from covering your face.

“Take offs” you say quietly, looking down at your lap in embarrassment.

You don’t hear an answer from your boyfriend, as your eyes slowly lift to look at his face. Charles is looking at you almost blankly, though his gaze quickly softens as your eyes meet his.

“Mon amour, are you scared off take offs?” He asks with raised eyebrows.

You stay quiet, why on earth am i scared of take offs? He must think it’s so stupid.

Your thoughts get interrupted by Charles’ hand laying on yours, his thumb softly grazing your knuckles. You look up to see him looking at you lovingly, his muscles in his face completely relaxed, knowing you were okay.

“You could have just told me chérie” he murmurs to you, with nothing but sincerity in his eyes.

"it's so stupid" you chuckle light-heartedly, trying to brush the whole situation off.

"It is not stupid. But tell me, yeah? I don't want to make you unhappy" Charles says, once again ever so softly.

"You could never make me unhappy, Charles" you reply with a smile, of which he reciprocates tenderly.

A few minutes pass as you try to keep calm, though your adrenaline spikes as the doors are shut and secured, and the engines start up. Charles takes notice, and tightly clasps your hand in his.

"Hold my hand chérie, you're safe."

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc drabble #cl16 #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x yn #charles leclerc angst

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zephyrchama · 3 months

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Hi!! I love your hc’s , can I request how the brothers would react to a s/o from who’s deathly afraid of wasps , like phobia strength fear . (It’s spring where I am and I have a phobia of wasps so i really want comfort stuffs lol)

Thank you! I've been wanting to write something bug-related, hope I don't disappoint too much! If there's not enough fluff or comfort, I'll try to come up with something else. I wound up writing how they'd handle the situation.

(little scary note: Devildom wasps are probably awful monstrosities, maybe even bigger than human realm ones. They could have all kinds of RPG monster-style wasps in addition to the “normal” sized ones that humans are familiar with (yet have some crazy venom).)

-----

Lucifer revels in being the first person you go to when you feel afraid. He doesn’t quite get why it’s such a big emergency, and he doesn’t like the chore of having to stop what he’s doing just to take care of a common pest, but there’s a warmth in knowing you come straight to him when you're scared. At first he would tell you to go ask someone else. Or, couldn’t you chase it off yourself with magic? He knows that surely you’re more than capable. He has better things to do than deal with a wasp. But with enough begging, he’d give in. Especially if you bury yourself under his coat. He can feel you trembling. Grasping his shirt in your fingertips and shakily asking “Lucifer, please?” will usually do the trick. He takes his coat off and drapes it over your head so you don’t have to watch while he takes care of things. Typically, it only takes seconds to erase all traces of the wasp’s existence. It takes far longer for you to convince Lucifer to help than it does for him to actually help. As the problem persisted and the weather got warmer, Lucifer started insisting you wear bug repellant to keep the problem at bay. He stops you in the morning to make sure you’re wearing it. If you come to him later in the day with a wasp-related issue, he’ll hold you back and personally make sure every inch from head to toe is coated before you leave. "I can't have any pests approaching you when I'm not around," he explains.

-----

Mammon loves when you rely on him. He has no trouble getting rid of a pesky bug or two. The first time it happened, he panicked. His human was crying and shaking and could hardly speak - the human he’s supposed to be in charge of. If anything happened to you, he’d be in a world of trouble. “What? What happened, huh?” he asked, grabbing your shoulders. He couldn’t understand unless you told him. “Help,” you whimpered, pointing where you had been standing moments before. “What?” The only thing there now was a buzzing wasp, flitting to and fro. “That thing?” You nodded and the relief that washed over him was immense. He almost laughed. “Man, don’t scare me like that! C’mon, the Great Mammon’ll take care of it for you.” Now, he’ll ask for rewards. Nothing big, but just enough to motivate him and keep you from taking advantage of him. He can’t let you find out that your tears are his weakness, after all. Mammon makes a big show of playing the hero, saying “get behind me” and pulling you in close. He’ll wrap an arm over you, guiding your head into his side while firing off a spell with a “bang!” Sometimes he’s so focused on how cute you look that he misses and sets fire to a shrub, but as long as you’re not looking, he can coolly escort you in the opposite direction as if nothing is out of the ordinary. “Well? Don’t ya think the Great Mammon deserves a reward for savin’ ya?”

-----

“Do I have to?” Leviathan gets anxious and doesn’t want to confront the wasps. He can see how distraught you are and it’s tugging on his heart strings, but they freak him out too. He’s so much stronger and he knows it, but their unpredictability is unsettling. He’ll let you take shelter in his room for as long as you want, or under his hoodie as long as you don’t move too much. If you’re especially persistent, he’ll eventually work up the courage. It might take a while though. With a mighty wadded up newspaper in one hand and the other hand outstretched protectively in front of you, he’ll slowly inch forward towards any unsavory bug. At the smallest sound though, he’ll jump and it’s back to square one. If the wasp moves and you shriek, he shrieks with you. “Don’t scare me like that!! I-I… I almost had it!! Arrghhh!” If you two are lucky, the commotion attracts one of his other brothers who rolls their eyes and crushes the wasp like it’s made of paper. On days when backup never arrives, you have to play hype man until Levi finally works up the nerve to one-shot the target. “I did it!” He looks so happy, and he occasionally strikes a silly victory pose despite also falling back in relief. He is the hero who saved the human in distress, after all. The next time it happens he’s still incredibly reluctant, but he upgrades his rolled-up newspaper to one of those electric zapping polls so he feels a little cooler.

-----

Satan is usually unperturbed by the bugs. They’re certainly annoying, but nothing to fret over. “You want me to take care of that?” he’ll ask, no questions asked. You don’t even need to say anything. He notices when your attention wanders from him, when the look in your eye changes and your demeanor shifts upon spotting one. You don’t have to speak if you’re unable to. Grabbing on to the empty sleeve of his jacket is enough of an answer. Satan is especially handy if there are multiple bugs buzzing in the vicinity. It’s not often he gets to practice his curses on a moving target. If he’s having an especially rough day, he’ll pack all his frustrations and wrath into a single blow that’s way more powerful than necessary. That is doubly true if he’s interrupted during a nice moment. Satan likes to savor good times without being disturbed. He’s ruthless if a wasp comes along and ruins the nice atmosphere between you two. He tries to be careful around his book collection, but anything else in the way is fair game to be destroyed. His attempts to calm you down afterwards are less helpful. He tries to distract you with trivia. “That was just an infernal warrior bee. You can tell by the three horizontal stripes and ones vertical stripe on its back. We must have walked past its nest, they’re mostly harmless unless you get too close and they start unsheat-” ”Aaaaaahhh!!!” The quickest way to shut Satan up before your fear gets worse is just to shout louder than he talks, especially if you nuzzle your head against his chest while he does it.

-----

Asmodeus gives you a nauseated look. He could probably destroy a bug in seconds, but they’re gross. He wants nothing to do with them. “Isn’t there anybody else around to get it?” It’s quite a sight to see Asmodeus publicly charm people into disposing of a wasp for the two of you. It is the most convenient way when other people are around. He does it as naturally as breathing, and then the two of you have to run from his obsessed fans instead of an insect. If Asmo sends a distress text to his brothers, it’s rare for someone to actually show up. But if you join him and spam the house’s group chat together, somebody will inevitably come to your aid. The two of you have cowered together in a corner many times waiting on one of his other brothers to show up. Due to this, you’ve perfected a defensive formation. If you both hug each other, fingers intertwined and head resting on the other’s shoulder, it calms you both down while also minimizing the blind spots in the room. You can spot any bug approaching with a 95% accuracy rate. If it’s a long day and bugs are a major recurring issue, Asmo will snap. Enough is enough. He still manages to be so pretty, despite his raging demonic energy knocking down everything in its path. He feels so disgusted afterwards though and will invite you to bathe the grossness away with him in a long, long bath.

-----

Beelzebub the reliable. Beelzebub the wonderful. You have so much appreciation for this dude. Beel is often the one you can turn to when nobody else will help. He’s not the best at spotting the smaller insects so you need to be very descriptive about where you saw them, but he shows no hesitation when it comes to exterminating them for you. The way he casually just whacks them aside is astounding. He’s more concerned about your shaking and crying and will try to prioritize comforting you over handling the wasps, but that just makes you more scared. With each passing moment, who knows where they’ll fly to next? “Please, please Beel. Just please take care of it, make it go away!” The sooner the better. The corners of his mouth will turn down, hesitant to turn his back on you, but he agrees. “Ok.” You must ensure to reward him with plenty of snacks. It keeps him protectively by your side for longer and otherwise he starts wondering how the felled wasps would taste fried. He used to get concerned you wouldn’t eat with him, but has since learned you need time to calm down before you appetite returns. It helps if you can sit in his lap, a fortified spot you’re certain no wasps can get near.

-----

Belphegor is too lazy to lift a finger most days. If they’re not bothering him, he doesn’t want to bother with them. But the way you twitch, the way you shriek and jump over the smallest movements, will start to concern him. It’s cute at first. He enjoys seeing a new side of you, the easily startled side. It's amusing. If it goes on for too long though he knows you’ll get nightmares and it will mess with your health. Humans get sick easily like that. He’ll laugh at you and then fell the buzzing menace with ease. It’s easier to get Belphegor to help when he’s tired. The buzzing annoys him to no end when all he wants is a peaceful nap. He might not even be conscious of what he's doing and protects you out of pure instinct. When he’s cranky, he shows no mercy to the insects hassling you. You’ve got blanket permission to throw yourself in his arms when he’s taking a nap. His demon form tail is an especially potent fly (or any winged creature, really) swatter, ensuring nothing gets near the two of you. Belphegor will literally take care of everything in his sleep while he snuggles up to you without a care in the world. One time you were escaping a nagging Lucifer instead of a wasp and tried the same tactic. It only made him madder. But it was great to see him get bapped in the face with Belphegor’s fluffy tail.

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steddieasitgoes · 6 months

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written for @steddiemas Day 1: Deck the Halls read on ao3 | ao3 collection

Steve’s annoyed.

More than annoyed, really.

He’s supposed to be at the Munson’s, sitting between Wayne and Eddie, watching the Hoosiers play. Well, trying to watch the game, at least. Eddie has a habit of dozing off before the first quarter ends, head thunking against Steve’s shoulder so he can’t move for the rest of the game.

But no.

His mom just had to call and demand he set up their stupid Christmas tree before she and his dad get home tonight because the annual Harrington Holiday House party is this weekend, and she doesn’t have time to do it herself. Honestly, he’s surprised she’s trusting him enough to decorate the thing. He can count on one hand how many times he was allowed to hang an ornament on the statement piece in their living room.

He can’t even celebrate the decorating victory, though, because he’s still trying to assemble the goddamn thing. Nine-foot trees really aren’t meant to be set up by one person. At least, that’s what Steve’s learning as he tries to balance the next segment of the tree over his shoulder as he climbs up the ladder.

Focused on not falling, Steve doesn’t hear the front door open or the stomps of boots coming into the room. It isn’t until Eddie tuts does Steve startles, nearly toppling over.

“Woah, there big boy,” Eddie teases, reaching out to steady the ladder. “Don’t fall.”

“Don’t scare me then,” Steve snaps. It takes a moment, but he manages to get the next piece into the slot before carefully climbing down the ladder.

“Christ, someone’s feisty today,” Eddie says, hands up in surrender. “I guess it’s a good thing you bailed on me and Wayne to uh…” He glances at the half-assembled tree in the middle of the room. “What are you doing exactly?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Building a stupid Christmas tree.”

“I’m sorry, you what?” Eddie asks, shaking his head. “You can’t build trees. You grow trees.”

Steve snorts. “It’s an artificial tree, Eds. My mom called as I was headed out to your place. Said I needed to get the stupid thing up and fluffed before she got home tonight because she needs a full three days to decorate the damn thing for the annual Harrington Holiday House party.”

“This thing is blasphemous!” Eddie says, circling it like a predator stalking its prey. “I thought rich people love Christmas trees. Don’t you like custom order the biggest one to show off your wealth?”

“Uh, no? My mom says real trees make too much of a mess.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Eddie says, abandoning the tree as he stalks towards Steve. “You mean to tell me you’ve never had a real tree before? Is that what you’re telling me?”

“You’re being weird,” Steve says, shaking Eddie’s hands off his shoulder.

“I am not being weird. You’re being weird. You’ve never had a Christmas tree! Do you even know what they smell like? Steve, you haven’t lived until you’ve smelt a freshly cut down Christmas tree!”

“Jesus, I didn’t know you were so passionate about this,” Steve snorts.

“You think this is bad. Wait until I tell Wayne. He’s going to flip out!”

“Wayne has never flipped out in his life.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a first for everything.” Eddie crosses his arms and then immediately uncrosses them, clapping his hands instead. “That’s it. You’re coming with us this year. Don’t make plans for next Friday! I’m stealing your Christmas tree virginity.”

“Don’t say it like that,” Steve groans, wrinkling his nose. “But fine, I’ll go with you. If you help me with this thing.”

“I don’t think that’s a fair trade-off, Stevie.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t really give a shit,” Steve says, bending down for the next segment of the tree. “Now grab an end.”

Steve yelps when he feels a firm hand squeeze his ass. All it takes is one deathly glare over his shoulder for Eddie to stop cackling and get serious.

🎄 🎄 🎄

“I’m going to sue your family,” Eddie whines, collapsing on the couch a few hours later.

“Don’t be a baby,” Steve scolds before dashing off into the living room to grab a couple of beers.

“Excuse me! That thing attacked me! Multiple times! Look at the evidence,” Eddie shouts, yanking up the sleeves of his Hellfire shirt to examine a dozen or so scratch marks up and down his forearms. “And don’t even get me started on my hands! How am I supposed to play guitar, Steven!”

“I told you to wear gloves,” Steve shrugs, returning to the room. He passes Eddie the cold can of beer before sinking into the couch beside him.

“I shouldn’t need gloves because you shouldn’t need to fluff a tree! They already come fluffed because they’re not rotting away in a box all year.”

“You poor thing,” Steve playfully tuts. “Guess I can’t hold your hand now since they’re so beaten up.”

“I never said that,” Eddie squawks as he yanks Steve’s hand into his own.

They sit in silence after that. Nursing their beers as the Christmas tree stands in its makeshift glory in front of them. Steve can tell which side he fluffed and which side Eddie did. The giant gap between the top two layers is obvious, and he knows he’s going to have to climb the ladder and fix it before his mom gets home, but that’s a problem for future Steve. Right now, he wants to sit here with his boyfriend even if his boyfriend is gearing up for another faux Christmas tree rant.

“Don’t tell me your mom is one of those people who only puts those stupid decorative ball things on the tree, too.”

“What do you think?” Steve says, hiding his smile behind the can of beer.

“Jesus H. Christ!”

🎄 🎄 🎄

It takes a bit of convincing and a formal invite from Wayne, but Steve keeps up his end of their deal, joining the Munsons on their quest for the perfect Christmas tree for the trailer.

Eddie has a habit of embellishing when he tells stories, but Merrill’s farm lives up to all the hype. As done, the process of selecting and chopping down the perfect tree. Steve gets stuck being the tie-breaking vote when Wayne and Eddie end up arguing over which tree to bring home. Naturally, Eddie throws a minor fit when Steve sides with Wayne, whining that he likes him better than his own boyfriend, which has Wayne rolling his eyes.

Steve gets to make the first chop but passes the ax off quickly. He doesn’t want to impede on their tradition any more than he has. Besides, axes have never been his thing. He prefers to swing bats instead.

“See, isn’t this much better than building a tree?” Eddie asks, slinging an arm over Steve’s shoulder as they stand off the side while Wayne pays.

“It definitely smells better.” Steve inhales deeply, scents of pine and hints of peppermint flooding his senses. Someone should bottle this stuff up and sell it as a cologne, he thinks. He’d definitely wear it.

“It’s easier, too.”

Steve scoffs. “Speak for yourself! You’re not the one who helped Wayne drag it all the way up here.”

Eddie laughs, eyes sparking mischievously. “Wait until you have to help him load it into the truck. That’s always the worst part.”

Steve eyes his boyfriend through squinted eyes. He ducks out of Eddie’s grasp and settles his hands on his hips. “You set me up! You just brought me here so you wouldn’t have to do manual work!”

“You wound me, Harrington,” Eddie gasps, clutching a hand over his heart as he staggers backward. “How can you think so lowly of me.”

“Because I know you, Munson,” Steve teases.

“Alright, alright, fine,” Eddie says, slinking over to Steve. “Maybe I had ulterior motives, but it's only fair after what I suffered helping you with that abomination you call a tree. At least now you’ve experienced a true Christmas tree experience.”

Steve can’t help but laugh, shaking his head as Eddie beams proudly at him.

“Ready to go, boys?” Wayne asks, rejoining them. They both nod, watching as Wayne makes his way over to the heavier side of the tree.

“You don’t have to carry it, Wayne,” Steve says, mischievous flooding his own veins. “Eddie and I will carry it to the car.”

“You bastard!”

“Hey,” Wayne scolds, swatting Eddie’s shoulder. “No swearin’ ‘round kids. I ain’t raise you like that.”

Steve bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing as he watches Eddie sigh dramatically before carefully shoving Wayne away from the tree. He waits for Eddie to follow his lead, squatting down before he counts them off. On three, they hoist the tree over their shoulders and start heading back out to the car.

🎄 🎄 🎄

“So, what do you think?” Eddie asks later, passing Steve a mug full of Wayne’s signature hot chocolate. “Is it better than your tree?”

Steve knows the answer immediately, but he takes a moment. Wants to make Eddie squirm as he admires the tree in front of him. It’s not perfect. It’s a little crooked, and there are hundreds of pine needles littering the floor. The lights are bright, though, and the branches are full of homemade and sentimental ornaments that span decades. A homemade star sits on top in lieu of the traditional angel. A star, Eddie tells him, he and his mom made by themselves the year before she got sick.

It’s perfectly imperfect.

His own traditional, straight out of the pages of a Home and Garden magazine doesn’t stand a chance against this one.

“Yeah, Eds. It’s better than my tree.”

“Victory!” Eddie shouts, nearly spilling his hot chocolate all over himself.

🎄 🎄 🎄

A month later, Steve’s belly is full of the Munson Christmas feast, but instead of lazily lounging on the couch enjoying his food baby, he’s carefully taking ornaments off of the dead Christmas tree that nearly caught fire twice since he’s been here.

“I take it back,” Steve says, carefully taking an ornament off of the dead tree. “Artificial trees are better.”

“They are not!” Eddie whines, wrapping the ornaments Steve hands him in tissue paper.

“I don’t know, Eds. I’ve never had to take down a tree on Christmas before!” he grumbles, reaching for another ornament. “This sucks.”

“It’s all your fault. If you chose my tree, it would have lived for another week! I just know it.”

“Sure it would have,” Steve snorts.

“Look on the bright side, at least we have firewood for the New Year's Eve bond fire now. We can’t do that with your stupid tree.”

“Nope, because I get to use my tree again next year, and you have to buy a new one. Think that’s another point for fake trees.”

Eddie screeches, wrapping his arms around Steve’s middle and tugging him off the ladder and onto the couch. Despite their full stomachs and tired eyes, they wrestle and laugh as Wayne shakes his head from the doorway, a light cigarette perched between his lips.

“Cut it out, you too,” he scolds when things get more heated between them. “Need it out before it really goes up in flames.”

#steddiemas #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #dani writes

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