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apclyptc · 7 months

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DUMB— chris sturniolo x reader

synopsis: reader is smart and top of her class in college. chris however, is not too interested in her intelligence.

warnings: full on smut, swearing and also drinking/smoking, use of the pet name baby, use of the word slut, dumbification, oral (f! receiving), unprotected sex

“hit her from the back she can’t do nothing but yell,

and she smart as fuck i got this bitch straight out of yale”

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Ever since you were younger, you seemed to have a gift for memorising and holding information. Because of this, people assumed you studied constantly.

Obviously, you did study. But it wasn’t like you didn’t have a social life. You enjoyed college parties like any other person would.

So when a guy in your class invited you to his frat house for a party, of course you didn’t refuse.

The only thing was, this guy just happened to be Chris.

He was in your social studies class, usually sat at the very back with a couple of his friends in the lecture. You knew of each other, having shared mutual friends from other classes. You’d never really spoken to him one-to-one, mainly because he was always socialising with pretty much everyone, and while you weren’t shy, you also weren’t a huge fan of jumping into conversations with people who all knew each other prior.

It also didn’t help that Chris was the most attractive man you had seen in college, or maybe in your life.

You were good at hiding it, but he made you nervous. Of course, when he invited you to his fraternity house, you faked an air of confidence so you didn’t weird him out.

“Hey, it’s Y/N, right?” Chris began, and when you affirmed with a nod he continued, “I’m throwing a party tonight, you should come.” He threw a smile in your direction, and you pushed down the immediate feeling of giddiness before answering.

“Yeah sure, sounds good. When does it start?” You asked nonchalantly as you could.

“Around 10. You can come whenever, it will be on way into the morning anyway.”

“Great. Am I good to bring a couple friends?” You replied, not wanting to walk into a party alone.

“Yeah that’s fine with me. Ask your friend Lola, my buddy Nate has a thing for her. Just don’t tell him I told you that.” He smirked at you.

That smirk. You wished you could see that smirk while he was hovering over you as he sla—

“Lola, yeah! I’ll bring her along with me.” You snapped out of your less than decent reverie and gave Chris a response.

“Perfect. I’ll see you there, Y/N.” He gave a quick glance up and down your body before turning and walking away from you.

It was then you realised, you had absolutely nothing to wear. Plus, since Chris just personally asked you, you decided you may as well dress as hot as possible.

Y/N: hey lola, frat party tonight?

Lola: do u even have to ask??? usually it’s me dragging u to these things

Y/N: true lmao. i’m gonna need to borrow something from ur closet

Lola: ooooh why, do u need smth slutty?

Y/N: maybe

maybe i was personally invited by the party thrower

Lola: who

Y/N: chris 😇

Lola: GIRL-

ok ok i’ll give u the sluttiest thing i can find

come over later and we can pick something out for u

A couple of hours later once you were finished at college, you headed to your best friend Lola’s dorm.

You two had spent what seemed like hours choosing each other’s outfits.

“By the way, a little birdie told me that Nate has a thing for you.” You eyed Lola up, knowing she had a soft spot for him.

“Oh, really? That’s interesting. Totally unrelated but would you still happen to have that box of condoms I gave you for secret santa last year?” Lola gave you a suggestive look, raising her eyebrows.

“Of course. Already put two in my bag.” You both laughed.

You arrived at the party at 11:27, mainly because no one turns up to a party on time, but also because Lola took a ridiculous amount of time to get ready.

You met up with a couple of girls from the dorms opposite Lola, seeing as they were also invited.

As soon as you arrived, you were immediately shown to the kitchen where an array of bottles were displayed.

Vodka, whiskey, rum, tequila and practically any spirit you could think of, were decorated around the kitchen.

You grabbed two cups, one for you and Lola, and filled it with vodka and soda.

“Hey, I think I see Nate and Chris over there.” Lola points behind you through to the games room, where lo and behold, Nate and Chris were playing what looked like an intense game of beer pong.

The two of you walked over to them, Nate noticing you first.

“Hey! Come help me win the game, Lola.” He gestured for her to play with him.

Chris had then turned around to see you, that smirk appearing yet again.

“You gonna help me?”

You took a quick swig of the contents in your cup before joining Chris at the table.

“Atta girl. Nice of you to bring Lola for my bro.” He spoke in a low voice so that only you could hear.

“Chris, stop flirting and throw the damn ball.” Nate teased, and you felt your cheeks grow red.

Chris threw the ball into the cup closest to him, the object landing into the beer and making a splash.

“Drink up, fool.” he glanced at you to make sure you were watching.

After a while, you had enough to drink to give you a confidence boost, and were now invested in the game of beer pong.

It was down to one cup each, and you had to make the final shot.

“Come on, Y/N,” Chris spoke from behind you, “you got it.”

It was too hard to concentrate with his voice so close to your ear, and his body so close to yours. You threw the ball, but it narrowly missed the cup.

“Yes! Chris you’re a loser!” Nate laughed at his best friend across from the table, throwing his arm around Lola who had locked eyes with you as he did this.

‘Don’t forget the condom’, you mouthed to her playfully, and she winked, pointing to her pocket.

Nate and Lola had then disappeared together, leaving you alone with Chris.

“Sorry I missed the cup.” You joked.

“Apology accepted. You wanna smoke with me?” He pulled out a perfectly rolled joint from his pocket.

You weren’t a huge smoker, only joining with Lola occasionally when you felt like unwinding.

Nevertheless you agreed, deciding you may as well since you were at a party.

Chris lead you upstairs into his room. Your eyes immediately glanced around the room, taking in its appearance.

Chris sat on the edge of his bed, and you followed.

“Could you get my lighter, it’s in the top drawer over there.” He pointed to the bedside table at the wall, and you grabbed the device, passing it to him which he thanked you for.

“Lola and Nate seem to hit it off.” You spoke.

Chris held the joint between his lips, lighting it before replying, “he’s down bad for her. Has been for a while.”

You giggled to yourself, knowing Lola felt the same about him. It was a good feeling for you, because you knew Nate was a nice guy.

“They’re a good match. Nate’s a good guy for her." You responded, watching Chris take the first hit of weed and exhaling the thick smoke.

“Yeah? Is that what you’re into? Nice guys?” He asked you, taking another hit before passing it to you.

You took the joint from his hand and inhaled.

“I guess. I think I prefer someone more… unpredictable.” You had Chris in mind as you answered. You had yet to figure out why he invited you here himself, since you didn’t know each other that well.

“In what way?”

“I don’t know, someone I can’t figure out. I like to be kept on my feet, someone like Nate is easy to understand because he’s straightforward. Which is great for Lola, she deserves someone who is like that.” You thought about all the past few guys Lola had a thing with. They weren’t that nice.

You passed the joint back to Chris who had his eyes trained on you as you spoke.

“So you like the tension, not knowing when or if someone wants you.” He tried to understand.

“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice when it’s easy. But..” You trailed off.

“It’s more fun not to know.” Chris finished your trail of thought as if he knew the feeling.

“Exactly.”

A comfortable silence sat between you, passing the joint back and forth until it was gone.

“I have a question.” You asked, breaking the silence.

Chris tapped the joint out on his bedside table, and brought his attention back to you, “Go ahead.”

“Why did you invite me here? I mean, it’s not that I didn’t want to come, it’s just that we haven’t really talked much.” You asked, needing to know.

Chris chuckled.

“I thought it was more fun not to know?” He smirked, using your own logic against you.

“Come on! Tell me.” You persisted.

Chris leaned in closer to you, and you could swear your heart was beating out of your chest.

“I always see you in class,” He began to explain, continuing to close the gap between you, “sitting close to the front, answering all the questions. You’re pretty smart, aren’t you?”

The tension was palpable, and you felt yourself grow wetter as his low voice penetrated your ears.

“I want an answer.” He demanded.

“I- I guess so.” Your voice wavered, all of a sudden finding it hard to speak.

“I’ve always wanted to see how long it takes until I can make you speechless.”

And it surely didn’t take long, because in moments his lips were on yours.

It was as if every guy you had dated never existed, the feeling of Chris kissing you overrode any experience you had thus far.

His left hand rested on the back of your neck while his other hand took the opportunity to roam around your body, from your thighs to your chest, until it landed on your waist.

Your hands swiftly made their way to his arm and hair, while deepening the kiss he had started.

In a quick movement he lifted you onto his lap, letting both his hands find purchase on your waist.

With your arms wrapped around his neck, you slowly moved your hips rhythmically, earning a soft grunt from him.

Pulling away, he spoke, “You want to do this?”

You nodded, before asking the same of him.

“Do you?”

That same smirk that sent you reeling reappeared again.

“Does this answer your question?” He grinded his hips upwards into you, allowing you to feel his growing hard-on.

A whine escaped from your lips.

“No more talking.”

You reconnected your lips to his, the energy of the room turning into heated passion.

Chris’ hands slowly dragged down to your ass, kneading them with roughness.

You whined again, unable to stop any sounds from leaving your mouth.

The sound of the ongoing party downstairs could be faintly heard from inside the room, but you paid it no mind. You couldn’t, not while Chris had all his attention on you.

He briefly paused to take off the top you were wearing, and then resumed with his skilled tongue, sliding against yours. He took you off his lap, not separating from you for a moment as he laid you down on your back.

“Such a smart girl in class,” he pulled his shirt over his head and threw it behind him, “Does anyone know that you’re really just a little slut?” He kissed your neck, then your jaw.

“I need an answer.” Chris demanded again, and you rubbed your thighs together in want.

“No.” You breathed.

“No, what?” His hand glided up your thigh, separating them.

“I’m not a slut.” You managed to find words.

“So if I reach in between your legs, right now, you won’t be dripping for me?”

You knew you were.

A hand snaked through your skirt, pulling aside your underwear, and he slowly dragged a finger down your pussy.

“I’ve barely touched you. Do you want me to? Want me to touch you right here?” His finger, coated in your slickness, inched its way inside, just enough for you to feel it, but not enough to satisfy you.

You bucked your hips up, trying to feel something, anything.

But Chris pulled his hand away, causing you to whine in frustration.

Luckily for you, he wanted to feel you so badly, he couldn’t tease you for long. He grabbed the hem of your skirt, pulling it down your legs and threw it in the same direction as his shirt.

“I want to hear you. You love opening that mouth when we’re in class.” And with that, he pulled your underwear aside and attached his mouth straight to your throbbing clit.

All you could do was moan and writhe in his bed as he delved into your wet cunt, licking up all the arousal like a starved man.

Your hands flew to his hair, tugging on it desperately. The vibrations from the groan that left his mouth sent waves of pleasure tearing through your body.

Chris’ hands dug into the flesh of your thighs as they instinctively tried to close around his head.

“Fuck, right there!” You moaned loudly as his tongue dove inside your hole.

One of his hands left your thigh and drew circles on your clit, causing you to arch your back at the white-hot pleasure you felt from his ministrations.

Chris could feel his dick pulsate through his pants at the sounds you were making. He needed to feel you.

“You want me to fuck you, huh? Fill you up good?” He asked, and you knew by now he wanted an answer.

“Please, please, please.” Were the only words you could muster, too high on the feeling Chris had given you with his mouth.

He wasted no time on giving you what you were begging for, quickly discarding his pants and boxers, along with your bra and soaked panties.

Lining himself up with your entrance, he slid his dick over the slick of your pussy and pushed the tip in.

Your eyes had shut in anticipation, but when he made no attempt to move you opened your eyes to look at him.

He had waited until you made eye contact with him before pushing his entire dick inside you.

You both moaned at the full feeling, your walls contracting around him.

After a few seconds, Chris began to move.

Thrusting in and out at a slow pace as if to torture you, he shuddered, revelling in the feeling of your tight cunt.

“Fuck, feels so good baby.” You whined at the pet name, bringing his face down so you could kiss him again.

He started picking up the pace after this, your tongues smashing together in absolute need.

“Faster, faster.” You babbled, drunk off the sensation of his cock piston in and out of you.

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you dumb?” He grunted, loving how you could barely string full sentences together.

“Yes, yes, please. Need you deeper.”

The dirty words spilling from your mouth caused him to moan, and he flipped you onto all fours.

“Wanna see that pretty little ass bounce while I fuck you.” He muttered as he entered you yet again.

His pace was relentless, his balls slapping against you from the way he was pounding deep inside you.

You were just making sounds as you tried to say “Harder, faster, more,” but the words couldn’t form properly.

“The slut wants more? Can’t even speak but you’re begging for more?” He taunted you from behind.

You felt a sharp slap on your ass, followed by a soothing rub directly after. You practically yelled as Chris’ hand came down, your cunt convulsing.

“Knew you’d like that,” he slapped your cheek again, “Can feel you squeezing around me.”

You could feel the knot in your stomach unraveling, and you knew you wouldn’t last longer.

“Chris, gonna cum.” You managed to speak between moans.

“Come on baby, need you to cum while I’m inside you.” He groaned, trying to hold his own release off.

His words guided you right to your orgasm, shaking and crying while you came.

“Fuck, you want my cum inside you? Want me to stuff you full?” His pace was losing rhythm, chasing his orgasm while simultaneously overstimulating you.

“Mm, cum inside me. Want to feel it.” You cried, thrusting into him so you could feel more of him.

“So good, feels so good. Oh, I’m gonna cum inside of you,” Chris rambled, “Gonna fill you up with it.”

His moans were uncontrollable, spilling out of him as he relished in the warm feeling of your pussy.

“Cumming.” He grunted, as ropes of his cum spurted out, coating your insides until there was nothing left.

You both took the time to catch your breath, as Chris pulled out of you with a shaky sigh.

“Let me get you a towel.”

You turned onto your back once more, trying to comprehend the mind blowing sex you just had while dozens of people were partying downstairs.

Chris came back with a towel, cleaning the both of you up and passing you your underwear back.

“Hey.” You finally spoke, tired from all the stamina you had just burned.

“Hey.” He replied back to you.

“That was… amazing.” You sighed.

“Yeah, it was fun.”

You weren’t sure if he wanted you to leave now, or if you were supposed to stay, so you opted to do nothing.

“Let me take you on a date.” He announced, and you laughed.

“Don’t you think we’ve done this all a little backwards?”

Chris smiled and brought your head to his shoulder.

“I guess I’m just unpredictable.”

You then remembered you didn’t even use the condom you brought with you. You’d have to make your first date with Chris a trip to the pharmacy.

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a/n haha…. always wear a condom, kids!

hope you enjoyed my first oneshot.

send me any requests you want me to write! i think i’m gonna do an nsfw alphabet next, for chris and matt too

#Spotify #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #the sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo oneshot

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siriusleee · 6 months

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For @glitterypirateduck Call of Duty Christmas Special. Author's Note: For the holiday season, I wanted to write some things for some of my mutuals I've met the past year I've had my blog. This is for @gazs-blue-hat, who is one of the most supportive people I've ever met. Christmas Song: Last Christmas Premise: You need a date for your family's Christmas dinner. Johnny is willing to be it.

This is stupid. The dumbest idea you’d had in ages, but the thought of going home this Christmas to see your sister snuggled up on the couch with her long-term boyfriend while your mother regulated you to helping in the kitchen was enough to make you do something stupid.

It had started with a Facebook post someone else made as a joke. “$100 bucks and I’ll go to your family Christmas and pretend to be your boyfriend. $150 and I’ll kiss you in front of everyone and compliment your mom.” You’d sent a screenshot to Johnny, something quick, hoping he’d send a joke to make you feel better about the upcoming shit show.

Christmas exploded around town - lights dripping from each tree, fake Santa’s climbing up trellises. And with it, your mood turned blacker each day. It seemed like every minute someone was messaging you for something new: don’t forget to dress up for the family Christmas photo, bring rolls, are you bringing anyone?, are you bringing anyone?, are you bringing anyone?.

The lowest moment was a phone call from your sister’s boyfriend. You answered the call at your desk, phone sandwiched between your shoulder and ear.

“What’s up?”

“Hey, I was wondering what your ring size is.”

Your fingers slow on your keyboard; through the speaker, you can hear the hustle and bustle of some shop.

“I wear a size 8. Why?”

Silence. And then -

“I’m going to ask your sister to marry me at Christmas this year, and I know you guys are the same size. Don’t tell anyone?”

You had always liked your sister’s boyfriend, but at that moment you could have strangled him. Annoyed, you’d shoved yourself back from your desk, muttering something about taking a break. You slammed your phone down so hard, you were relatively sure that there was going to be a crack in the screen, but you were too bummed out to worry about it.

Johnny found you at your post outside, an unlit cigarette held loosely in your fingers.

“I thought you quit smoking, bird.”

His breath clouds around him, and he sits close enough to you that his knee rubs against yours.

“I did. That’s why I’m just holding it.”

He winces at the tone in your voice, hand coming up to rest itself above his heart in mock hurt.

“Who pissed in your Wheaties this morning?”

“Bug off Johnny.”

He knocks his knee into yours, hands tucked beneath his armpits to keep warm.

“Christmas dinner?”

Your shoes tap a maniacal pattern onto the concrete as you try to figure out how to say it all, without sounding so horrible.

“My sister’s boyfriend is going to ask her to marry her on Christmas.”

Johnny ‘hmms’, chewing on his chapped lips.

“You can always pay me like you said the other day.”

“Shut up Johnny.”

Three days later, after all the non-essentials had been sent home for Christmas dinner your phone buzzed; you glanced down at the screen from your perch on the couch, half expecting it to be another annoying family member.

Your fingers tapped against the screen, trying to figure out a way to tell Johnny to knock it off, the joke’s not funny anymore. Instead, you find yourself tapping out the time and your address.

Smoothing the wrinkles from your skirt, you start to think that maybe Johnny was just screwing with you - that this is all some elaborate joke and you’ll have to do this all by yourself. Maybe Johnny’ll laugh about it when the two of you return to work in a few days, maybe-

A tentative knock on your front door breaks you from your near spiral. Before you can talk yourself out of the entire thing, you fling the door open. Johnny stands grinning at you, hands tucked into the pockets of his dark jeans. His mohawk is freshly touched up, and whatever cologne he put on rolls off of him in hypnotic waves.

“You look nice,” you say, words falling flat and lame between the two of you. But Johnny doesn’t seem to mind as he holds his arm out to you.

“You look nice too, birdie. You ready?”

Johnny opens the car door for you. You take the moment it takes for him to walk around to his door to peer at the inside of the car - fresh vacuum lines cover the floorboard, and a new Wintergreen scented tree hangs from the review mirror.

“So,” Johnny says, climbing into the driver's seat, “tell me everything I need to know.”

You describe everyone on the drive there: your Aunt Mary, your Uncle Gary, your cousin with the glass eye who gets upset if you stare too long; your sister and her boyfriend. You point out each turn for Johnny, and with each turn of the wheel, your mood grows brighter.

Until Johnny pulls into your parent’s driveway, right behind your sister’s car.

“Alright, Bonnie?”

“Yeah, let’s just do this.”

You don’t get to open your door before Johnny hops out, pulling your door open and holding out his hand for you.

The front door opens to an explosion of people and Christmas music. Johnny is immediately taken in by your aunts, and he suffers through the pinched cheeks, and he doesn’t mind when your grandma kisses him on the cheek. By the time he makes it back around to you, there’s lipstick smudged on his cheek.

“They love you, Johnny,” you say, reaching up to wipe the red smudge away. “I’ll have to pay you extra I think.”

“You think they’ll let me take an extra plate home as a tip?”

“Of course they will.”

The two of you hide out in the corner, watching the little kids run around with their new toys; one of the boys shoves a Nerf gun into Johnny’s hand, and you see a flash of fear cross all the kid's face when Johnny racks it with extreme precision, but Johnny still lets all of them tackle him.

Your sister and her boyfriend stand on the opposite side of the room, refusing to take their hands off of each other. You do your best to ignore them, but there’s a clock inside you, ticking down the minutes until you know he’s going to drop down on one knee.

After Johnny fights off all the kids and returns to you, red from laughter, you don’t stop him when he grabs you around the hips, pulling you into the dining room with him. You hear the titter of your mom and aunt as they fawn over Johnny behind the two of you.

You almost pull away from him, until he stops you in the hallway, pointing upwards to where your mom tacked mistletoe on the ceiling. You feel the blush creep up your neck, and try to send him a message that this is way out of the agreement for the night. When he kisses you chastely on the lips, you don’t say anything, but you can feel the huge grin on your face.

He rests his hand on your knee throughout dinner and listens intently when your grandfather talks about his days in the War.

It’s more than you could have asked for. And after dinner, when all the adults start handing presents over to each other, you know it’s about to happen. You see your sister’s boyfriend fidget with something in his pocket, and your stomach twists. You try to focus on the music pouring in a little too loud from the speakers, the Wham! version of Last Christmas, but you can’t take your eyes off the two of them.

Johnny’s hand taps against your elbow, pulling your attention away from what’s going to be the end game of the night. He’s holding out a little box towards you, wrapped haphazardly.

“Oh Johnny, you shouldn’t. I didn’t get you anything.”

His grin is crooked as he shoves it into your hands.

“I didn’t ask you to get me anything, birdie. Anyway, it’s part of the pretending, isn’t it? Besides you can get me on my birthday.”

You unwrap the box, fingers sliding beneath the too much tape, to rip the paper away until it falls to the floor and all you’re left with is a black velvet box.

“Johnny this is not funny, you jerk.”

His grin is infectious as you open it up, a little silver pendant sits nestled in the velvet, an ‘S’ charm attached the the chain.

“Can I?” Johnny asks, and you nod, holding the box out so that he can take the necklace out.

He puts it around your neck, calloused fingers soft against your skin as he does the clasp.

The room explodes in cheers around you; out of the corner of your eye you can see your now future-brother-in-law on his knee in front of your sister, but you stare at Johnny instead.

The last lines of Last Christmas fade from the speakers, Johnny’s hand interlaces with your own and he tugs you closer.

“I think I want to do this next year.”

#my fics #codholiday2023 #johnny soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny 'soap' mactavish #johnny 'soap' mactavish x reader #call of duty #call of duty imagines #call of duty reader insert

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holylulusworld · 6 months

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The Grinch

Summary: We get to know how you and Lloyd got together.

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Assistant!Reader

Warnings: Christmas mood, sweet reader, maybe clueless reader, language, a little fluff, a hint of groping

A/N: This is the prequel to my miniseries: Plant Apocalypse

“Put your Christmas sweater on,” you sing along to the music blaring from your phone. You shake your ass and giggle as the snowman you placed on your desk starts singing the moment you pass him by. “Yeah, you too!”

Lifting the box with Christmas decorations you huff. There are so many people around in this house and no one offered their help with the Christmas decoration.

You walk over to Lloyd’s office, smiling wildly as one of the newer agents wishes you happy holidays.

“Cheery and bright, guys,” you coo and wave at the men discussing the next job, or target.

You shrug when they don’t look your way. Whatever they are up to is none of your business. From the moment you started working for Lloyd, you knew it was better to shut your mouth and not ask too many questions about his business.

While you fight to open the door and balance the box in your arm the men get louder. They seem to fight over something the newbie said.

“Hey, no fighting in here.” You yell, and the men stop in their tracks. “Mr. Hansen hates it when you demolish the headquarters!”

“Sorry,” they mumble. No one would believe that five bulky and heavily armored men stopped fighting only because you yelled at them.

“That’s much better. It’s Christmas, team. We should be cheery and happy, not fight. In the kitchen are cookies and later we can have hot chocolate.”

You managed to open the door and walk inside the office, huffing as it looks cold and unwelcoming.

There are monitors on the wall and a desk in the middle of the room. The other wall is grey and undecorated. Nothing is making you sadder than a room without decoration and plants.

“I’ll turn this cold room into a nice office,” you put the box on the couch standing next to the door. “Mr. Hansen will love it.”

You clap your hands and cheer yourself up.

“What the fuck is that?” Lloyd feels like he’s going to vomit rainbows. He looks around his office, shaking his head in disbelief. “I was away for two hours, and someone infiltrated my office and turned it into Santa’s shithole.”

“Mr. Hansen, you are back!” You squeal and walk toward Lloyd. “Welcome to your new office. I decorated it for you to make it look more festive.”

“I-“ He chokes on air as there is a rocking Santa next to his beloved gun shelf. You even dared to sling a fairy light around one of the shotguns. “What did you do? You are…you are…”

He looks you up and down. You’re wearing an ugly Christmas sweater with a snowman and blinking lights.

“I know.” You wrap Lloyd in a hug. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I got a Christmas sweater for you too, Sir. You’ll love it. It matches your eyes.”

Lloyd opens his mouth. He wants to tell you that you are fired. You violated his sanctuary, his beloved office but he can’t bring the words out. I mean, he killed people for less, but he can’t hurt you, or ruin your festive mood.

“I got you a matching one,” you smile sweetly. “I had hoped you’d wear it when we have hot chocolate and cookies.”

“Cupcake,” he sighs deeply and runs one hand down his face. Lloyd is a cold-blooded man and doesn’t give a shit about people, but he cares for you. “If I wear this thing, my men will believe I got weak and kill me.”

“Oh,” you sniffle. “I didn’t think this through. You’re a dangerous and strong man. Men like you don’t wear Christmas sweaters or kiss a girl under the mistletoe.”

“Mistletoe?” He cocks his head as you point at the mistletoe you hung up above his desk. Lloyd smirks. “So…did you already test the mistletoe?”

“I was alone at your office, Mr. Hansen,” you giggle. “It’s physically impossible for me to kiss myself.”

“Cupcake, you’d wonder about the uncanny flexibility of some people,” he gives you a dirty grin.

You wrinkle your nose. “Gross.”

“Yeah, a pretty girl on her knees is much better than suckin—” You cover his mouth to stop Lloyd from saying something gross.

“Do you like the decoration?” You look up at Lloyd with glassy eyes. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Sighing dreamily, you wait for Lloyd’s answer.

“Let’s see.” Lloyd walks you backward until you stand under the mistletoe. “How about we follow the tradition of kisses under the mistletoe?”

He cups your face and presses his lips to yours. Lloyd kisses you slowly, and almost sweetly. A stark contrast to his personality and profession.

“That was,” you whimper against his lips, “nice.”

“Not bad, cupcake,” he steps away to watch you stand on wobbling legs. He hums and almost doesn’t hate the decoration until his eyes land on a plant on his desk. “What is that?”

“Oh…” you smile sweetly. “I love plants, Lloyd. Don’t you love plants too?”

“I should shoot it for standing near my laptop,” he grunts and pokes the plant with his index finger.

“You’ll get used to it. How about I show you the plants at my apartment?” He watches you wring your hands. For months you tried to find the guts to ask Lloyd out and now you got him where you want him. “I’ll cook for you.”

“Hmm…” He is considering your offer. “I hope you know I love dessert the most…” Lloyd grins. He wraps his arm around your waistline and moves his hand to your ass. “Maybe we can have dessert first…”

Steve Rogers/Chris Evans/all CEvans characters Tags

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#lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x y/n #The Grinch #lloyd hansen x female!reader #female reader

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 6 months

Text

Never Say Never

Chapter 3

Pairing: SingleDad!StevexReader

Summary: You are a 32 year old single mother, raising your seven year old son on your own. After being widowed at 30 and going out on awful dates with disgusting men for the past month, you have decided that you're giving up. You already had your great love. One person can't possibly get lucky enough to have two in their lifetime. But then your son starts playing baseball and the coach might just change your mind about that.

No posting schedule.

18+ only for eventual smut

Word Count: 7.1K

1 2

“Jeremiah and I are going to build a fort when I spend the night,” Eli told you from the back seat as you drove him to school. This sleepover tomorrow was all he had been able to talk about all morning. “He said his daddy builds the most epic forts that take up the whole living room and he’s gonna ask him if he’ll build us one. And we’re going to watch Scooby Doo and the Alien Invaders. And Jeremiah has a Gameboy and he said he’s going to let me play on it! I think I’m going to ask Santa for a Gameboy this Christmas!”

“Wow,” you replied, smiling to yourself as your eyes darted to the rearview mirror, relishing the excitement on your son’s face. “Well, Christmas is pretty far away, buddy, but you save that idea.”

“Well, Christmas is way closer than my birthday now because that already happened and I have to wait a whole ten months for my birthday to come again but Christmas is only eight months away.”

“You’re right. Christmas is closer.”

“Yeah, and the Easter bunny doesn’t bring stuff like Gameboys. He just brings some candy and small stuff.”

“That’s right. I think asking Santa for it is a really good idea.” Plus, that would give you some time to save up for it. You made good money but working off of a single income meant you started saving for Christmas long before the holiday arrived.

“Yeah, I think so too,” your son replied, his little face serious. “Maybe I’ll start working on my list so it’s all ready. Oh! And Jeremiah said that we can ask his dad if we can go for a night walk. They take their flashlights and Miles and walk around in the dark! Isn’t that cool?”

“The coolest! That all sounds pretty amazing, buddy. You’re going to have the best time.”

“I know! And we get to spend the whole day together! We have baseball and then we’re going to get ice cream and then I’m sleeping at his house. It’s going to be the best day of my whole life!”

You laughed, “Well, that’s a pretty big statement. You still have a lot of life yet to go, but I am sure it will be the best day of your seven years so far.”

Turning into the drop-off line, you waved to Ms. Lincoln, Eli’s kindergarten teacher, who was standing to the side, greeting the kids as they came in. She’d been so vital to Eli that year. He’d lost his dad just a couple months into the year and she’d been so empathetic and kind to him. You would forever be grateful for the way she’d helped your son navigate such a confusing and awful time.

It had been difficult for Eli to understand the permanence of what had happened, especially when his dad being gone for a long period of time was not unusual. He continually asked when Justin was coming home, each inquiry another ice pick straight into your chest, when you would have to explain, again, that daddy couldn’t come home this time. He couldn’t ever come home again.

Ms. Lincoln had taken a special interest in him, knowing his love of superheroes, something that had come about because you had told him once that his daddy was one. Eli envisioned his dad like Superman, saving people’s lives, which wasn’t entirely untrue. His teacher was the one who encouraged him to draw. That was when he’d created Master Marine, a superhero with blond hair and blue eyes just like his dad that swooped in and saved the day, defeating the bad guys.

Every single time a new picture made its way onto your fridge, you would battle back the darkness. The darkness that sat just to the side, waiting to swallow you whole. The darkness you fought every morning, knowing you had to get up, knowing you had to keep moving or you would become stuck. And you couldn’t become stuck because your son needed you.

He needed you to be his mother, needed you to be strong and show him that everything was okay, needed you to keep going to your job so you had a place to live and food to eat. So as much as those pictures used to tear you up, take whatever pieces you'd managed to tape back together and run them through the shredder each time they appeared, you knew they were helping your son cope. Even his therapist had said art was an excellent outlet for him. So, when he would present you with a new one, Master Marine saving a young child that looked just like Eli from a bully at school or saving a woman with your hair and eyes from an evil mastermind, you would smile and gush about how amazing it was, sticking it to the fridge with a magnet.

“Bye mommy!” Eli yelled as you moved up to the front of the school, one of the fourth grade teachers opening the back door for him.

“Bye buddy. Have a good day. I love you!”

“Love you too!”

He turned back and waved to you over his shoulder before disappearing into the red brick building, his Batman backpack bobbing on his back. You turned out of the school and onto the road, heading for your favorite coffee shop.

You had a rare Friday off and you were starting it off by meeting Janice for coffee, a little ritual you had whenever you had a weekday off. It didn’t happen often but when it did, you savored every single moment of it. Your life was a constant cycle of work, running errands, doing household chores, and being a mom. To have six hours of time where no one required anything from you was a gift, one you didn’t get very often, and one you never took for granted.

Some people might use that extra day to catch up on household chores or run errands. But you didn’t, not if you could help it. You used that time to meet your friend, enjoying a slow coffee that you could savor instead of inhaling it just to get the caffeine to kick in. You used it to actually sit down and read a book or lay on the couch and watch tv shows you couldn’t ever watch when Eli was around. The laundry and the messy house would still be there tomorrow. The grocery store wouldn’t cease to exist if you didn’t go today.

Opening up the door to Brewed Awakening, you instantly felt like you were home, the atmosphere always so warm and welcoming. June, the owner, a woman around your age with long black hair and startling green eyes, waved from behind the counter. You waved back, inhaling the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee, already feeling that zing of energy, as if your body knew what was coming and was preparing for it.

You had been coming here for coffee since June had opened the place four years ago. Your love of coffee is what had brought you to the door but the atmosphere and the friendly owner is what kept you coming back. It didn’t hurt that June made an excellent cinnamon mocha. But what she’d done with the space turned it into an inviting place that kept you wanting to come back.

The decor was like a warm hug, full of comfortable furniture and cozy blankets. People often curled up in the squishy armchairs with their mug of coffee, reading a book, a blanket draped across their lap. Or they might be cross legged, on one of the wide chairs at a table, working on their laptop. The walls were a canvas of photos and artwork, small cafes from all around the world, allowing you to imagine that you were sipping a cappuccino in Vienna or enjoying a cafe latte in Paris.

“Hey girl,” June greeted with a smile as you approached the counter. “Cinnamon latte as usual?”

“Yes, please. I’m actually meeting Janice but she’s not here yet, of course.”

June winked, “Of course. Our Janice prefers to be fashionably late. Want me to get her Flat White ready?”

There it was, that feeling of belonging, like you were old friends even if the only encounters you ever had were at this counter. June had to serve hundreds of coffees a day but she knew every single regular’s order and often took the time to learn personal things about them as well. Often, you would approach to find your drink already ready, June preparing it the moment she saw you walk in.

“Yes please.”

“How’s my favorite little guy doing?” asked June as she steamed the milk.

“Oh, he’s great. He actually started playing baseball. His first practice was yesterday and he loved it,” you told her, slipping your credit card into the reader.

“Yeah? That’s great. I played softball all through school and I loved it. I can’t wait for him to come in with you so he can tell me all about it.”

“I’ll have to pop in with him sometime this weekend. You know how much he loves your hot chocolate.”

June laughed, setting the cups on the counter and leaning in, whispering, “Just so you know, that’s my Eli special. Not everyone gets extra whipped cream, chocolate chips, and crushed candy canes on their hot chocolate. Just my favorites.”

She winked and you smiled as you took the two coffees and headed over to two squishy armchairs that were free. You sat, sipping on your blessed caffeine, only waiting a few moments before Janice came swirling into the coffee shop like the tornado she was, apologies already falling from her lips for being late. Not that they were necessary. Late was just her perpetual way of being. You'd accepted that about your friend. You learned long ago that if you needed Janice ready at five, then you had to tell her four or you’d be waiting a while.

You held up your friend’s coffee and Janice took it with a smile, flopping down into the chair with a dramatic sigh, “Thank you. You are my favorite person ever.”

“I already had that title. I’ve had that title for a very long time. I didn’t need to buy you coffee for that so maybe you should pay me back. What a waste of my money,” you teased.

Janice stuck her tongue out. “You only stay my favorite because you supply my caffeine habit. Sorry I’m late. I was editing photos from that wedding I had a few weeks ago and I completely lost track of time. Then I raced out the door and got in my car and realized I didn’t have my purse. So, then I had to run back in and then the house phone rang and it was my mom and you know how hard it is to get her off the phone. And then when I told her I was meeting you, she had to know how you were doing and if you’ve found a guy from online dating so I was filling her in on what a disaster that was. And…”

“It’s fine,” you laughed, not surprised at all that Janice had told her mom all about your online dating escapades. The two were more like best friends, only sixteen years between them, than mother and daughter. “I never expect you to be on time anyway.”

“You know, I should be offended but that’s fair,” your friend shrugged and then she lurched forward, hand on the arm of your chair. “But I really was trying to get here on time today because I am dying to know how last night went with the hot dad.”

“You know it wasn’t a date, right?”

Janice waved her hand, groaning loudly, “He brought dinner to your place. It’s practically date adjacent.”

“Our kids were there. I told you that. Do you even listen when I talk? Eli and Jeremiah were just having a playdate. He brought pizza. It wasn’t even in the same zip code as a date.”

“So…you’re not interested in him at all?” Janice’s eyebrows lifted to her hairline, coffee cup brought to her lips, challenging you. Damn, she knew you too well. “Aha! I knew it! It’s all over your face. You are a smitten kitten and I love it! You’re definitely interested.”

You groaned, your head resting against the back of the chair. “Maybe…I don’t know. Janice, this is all very strange for me. And he’s just the dad of my kid’s friend. It’s not like he asked me out or hit on me or gave me any sign that he’s interested in me at all. He didn’t approach me at some bar and buy me a drink. I approached him to ask about his son coming to my house to play. I don’t even know if he’s single.”

“Well, that’s easy enough to figure out. Just ask him. When are you going to see him again?”

“Tomorrow. The boys have baseball practice again and then Eli is going to spend the night at their house.”

You looked down at your coffee, focusing on the dots of cinnamon speckled across the foam, not wanting Janice to read your expression. You did not want her to see how excited you felt at the idea of seeing him again and to read too much into it because you didn’t even know how you felt about it.

Yeah, you were lonely sometimes. Eli was your entire world and you had Janice and Matt. You weren't alone but sometimes you wished for someone to be around. Someone that was yours. Someone who might take care of you, offer to rub your feet or handle things while you took a bath. Someone you could curl up with while you watched a movie or who would make the salad while you prepared dinner. Someone to talk to, to share about your day, to hold your hand while you strolled through the grocery store.

It was dumb, really. Silly. You knew that. You should be perfectly content with everything you had, everything you'd had before you lost Justin. Not everyone got to experience a love like you had. But even when you had him, because of his job, he wasn’t always there. You'd spent lots of evenings alone. Being alone was not anything new for you but there was something vastly different about being alone, knowing your person was coming home to you at some point versus being alone knowing they never would.

“Okay, perfect. So you ask him tomorrow.”

“How am I supposed to ask him if he’s single?” you scoffed, appalled at the idea. Clearly, Eli had a mom. He’d spoken about her last night. Maybe he just didn’t like to wear a ring. Maybe she was simply out of town for work or something.

“Just like that. You tell him that you enjoyed your evening together and you wondered if he was single.”

“Janice, I can’t do that.”

“Of course you can. It’s a simple question.”

“There’s nothing simple about that. I haven’t asked a guy out in over a decade. And even back then, I was awful at it. I was always so nervous. Do you remember when tripped over my own feet and spilled that drink all over Josh Day in college? It was mortifying. Just because you’re all confident and brave doesn’t mean everyone is. Besides, I don’t even know if I want to know. I don’t know what I want.”

“Honey, we’ve been over this.”

“Yeah. We have. And you’re the one who wants this for me,” you groaned, “but Janice, you’re not in my shoes. You have no idea. You can’t know what this is like and I hope you never have to. You say it’s been long enough and that I need to move on. Maybe you’re right but that doesn’t mean I can wave some magic wand and be ready. They didn’t exactly give me a manual on how to get over your grief when your husband suddenly dies. They didn’t give me some step-by-step instruction booklet for how to start dating after losing the love of your life. And how to do that when you’re also a single mother who has a kid to consider in all of it. I tried. I went on four dates and every single one of them was awful and just reminded me of what I was missing. They didn’t make me want to move on. They made me want to hang on for dear life to what I used to have.”

“I know. I know they were awful. But I don’t want to see you close yourself off to the possibility because you’re scared. Online dating sucked. I hear you. But this isn’t that. This is a guy, right in front of you, who you obviously are interested in. And it’s a guy who already knows Eli and your son likes him. He’s already organically a part of your world. You spent a whole evening with him. Do you have another horror story to tell me about him?”

“No,” you admitted, sinking down into the comforting cushion of the chair. “No. He seems wonderful. He was great with the boys. I mean, obviously he’s good with his kid but he was great with Eli too. He had them both laughing. And he has a good job. He’s a project manager for a construction company. Not that it should matter but I definitely don’t need a manchild in my life. Raising Eli is enough.”

“And…?”

“And what? Isn’t that enough?”

“He’s cute obviously?”

You flushed, bringing a hand to your face as those eyes and that smile came back to you, “I already told you he’s good looking. I mean…hazel eyes, ridiculously good hair, and a smile that could power up the whole of New York City. He’s that kind of good looking that makes you wonder what he’s doing here and not on your television screen.”

Janice giggled, her feet bouncing against the floor, arm smacking her chair, “See? Come on. Take your shot, honey.”

“But what about Eli?”

“What about Eli? Didn’t you say he liked him?”

“He did but he barely knows him. And this isn’t the kind of thing where I could wait to introduce them until I knew it was something real because he’s already in Eli’s life now. And Eli is best friends with his son. I can’t screw that up for him. Because how would we be able to still set up playdates if we had some horrible breakup? We wouldn’t be able to be in the same room and then Eli would be crushed. And what if Eli isn’t ready to see me with someone else? He’s only ever seen me with his dad. He might think I’m betraying Justin. And what if…”

“Whoa, okay, let’s back the truck up a bit here,” Janice soothed, her hand coming to rest on your arm. “It’s just a date, one date honey, not a lifetime commitment. Ask him out on one date and see how it goes. Keep it simple and come here for coffee. No pressure. Not some fancy restaurant with low lighting. Just a nice coffee. If there’s nothing there then you just move on as friends and it doesn’t have to affect the boys. They don’t even have to know that you two went out. And you know I’ll watch Eli for you if you need me to. Name the time and Matt and I will be there.”

“I don’t know. This all just feels weird and wrong…I mean, Justin…”

“Justin wouldn’t want you to be alone for the rest of your life. Justin loved you like Sam loved Annie, like Wesley loved Buttercup, like Harry loved Sally. He would want you to have the world. He would hate the idea of you sitting in that house all alone. You are far too young to be facing the rest of your life alone. Take the leap, my friend. Take a chance on this movie star man. Be happy. It’s okay.”

But was it okay? You would like to think that Justin would want you to be happy, that he wouldn’t want you to spend the rest of your life alone at only thirty-two. But would he look at it as a betrayal? Would you be dishonoring him and everything you'd shared if you replaced him like an old couch?

And was any of this even relevant? You didn’t even know if Steve was single. Maybe he was still married or maybe he wasn’t but he was already seeing someone else. You couldn’t imagine a guy like that staying single for long. There had to be women lined up just waiting for their turn. If the moms at practice the other day were any indication, that was certainly the case.

But did you want to keep being alone? Maybe you didn’t straight up ask him but maybe you could find out. You were hanging out tomorrow for a bit anyway. Maybe if you were crafty, you could figure out his status without just coming out and asking if he was single.

“I’ll think about it,” you finally relented.

“I guess I’ll take what I can get,” sighed Janice.

___________________________________________________________

After listening to Janice spend the next hour trying to convince you why you needed to grab the bull by the horns, your friend’s words and not yours, you were ready to get the hell out of there. Janice was not going to let this go. You'd hugged your annoying, but well-meaning, friend and headed off to the grocery store.

As you'd just had pizza last night, Eli had asked if you could change pizza Friday to nacho Friday. So, here you were, even though you usually avoided doing things like this on a bonus day, grabbing all the fixings you would need to make the best nachos ever. Or really, what you would need because when Eli said nachos, all he really wanted was melted cheese on tortilla chips and some salsa to dip them in.

Not you. You had every intention of loading yours up with all the good stuff. Grabbing a cart, you wandered through the aisles, grabbing avocados to make guacamole, ground beef, taco seasoning, black olives, sour cream, and one jalapeno. Deciding a bottle of wine would be a nice addition, you turned down the liquor aisle and almost plowed right into another cart with your cart.

“Oh my god. I am so sorry. I wasn’t even looking…”

Your heart stopped, along with the entire grocery store, as if someone had hit the pause button, when you saw who you almost ran into. Steve gave you that megawatt smile, blinding even under the fluorescent lights of the grocery store. He stood there in a plaid button down and jeans, a baseball cap on his head.

Seriously? You'd met this guy two days ago and you had never seen him before. You definitely would have noticed if he’d ever been anywhere in your vicinity. Who wouldn’t notice a guy who looked like that just having the nerve to exist? Now you were running into him in the grocery store? Could you have just been blind?

To be fair, after Justin had passed, for a long time you felt like you w were moving through life in a fog. Your grief had been so thick that you barely noticed anything, simply going through the motions that were required of you. Maybe you had seen him before but never even noticed, blinders that were you just trying to function keeping you from seeing this beautiful man that lived in your town.

“Hey there,” he laughed, taking his hands off the cart and holding them out wide.

“Hey. Grocery shopping?”

Your eyes closed as you inwardly cursed yourself. Obviously he was grocery shopping. He had a cart in the middle of a grocery store. Why were you so bad at this? And Janice really thought you had a shot in hell of flirting with him, of asking him out when you couldn’t come up with anything better than asking him if he was grocery shopping in a grocery store?

“I mean, it is a store full of food so, you know?” Steve shrugged, gesturing to his basket. “I had a few hours before I had to be out to check on a job site so I figured I’d grab all the provisions for the big sleepover tomorrow. It’s way easier to do it now than to lug Jere with me. He’ll have this cart overflowing and my wallet completely drained by the time we checkout.”

You looked down. His cart was full of everything two seven year old boys might want. He had burgers, hot dogs, buns, four kinds of chips, cookies, ice cream, popcorn, juice boxes, cereal, and milk. You also noticed the six pack of beer that was probably his own personal little treat for having two seven year old boys in his house all night. Your eyes met his, eyebrows lifting.

“The beer is just…I mean, I won’t drink it all when they’re there or anything. Just like to have one or two in the evening sometimes. I promise you I am a responsible adult.”

“No, that’s not it. I don’t care if you enjoy a beer. You’ll probably need it. It’s just that’s a lot of food for one overnight. Looks more like you’re planning on twelve kids or possibly stealing my child for a whole week,” you teased, pressing your lips together. “I warn you. You can try to take him if you want but you’ll want to give him back after the first night. I’ll be impressed if you make it through night two. He’s amazing but he’s a handful.”

One of his hands ran through his hair as he chuckled, “No. I wasn’t planning on keeping him. Trust me, one seven year old is more than enough for me to handle on a regular basis. Besides, Jere’s mom will be home Sunday night so he’ll be heading back with her until I get him again on Wednesday.”

“Oh?” So she was in the picture but definitely not in the picture as in them together. Here was your opening, your way of finding out more information without blatantly letting him know you were interested. Just a casual conversation between two acquaintances who ran into each other. “Shared custody?”

“Yeah. Nance and I divorced about four years ago but we try to co-parent the best we can. She’s been on a trip with her husband for their anniversary for the past week so I’ve had Jere all week. That’s why I needed a babysitter for the meeting. Normally, we just help each other out if we need to.”

“Wow, that’s great. It’s so nice that you two can make that work when so many can’t. Jeremiah must love that his parents can work together so well. It has to make the split a lot easier on him.”

Steve shrugged, “Yeah. I mean, we’re just better friends than we were romantic partners, you know? It wasn’t really a contentious divorce. Nobody did anything bad. No cheating or nastiness or anything. We knew we wanted to make it as easy on Jere as we could so we agreed to joint custody, splitting our time with him fifty-fifty and then if something comes up, we just move stuff around as needed.”

You were impressed. You had known quite a few people who’d gone through a divorce, more than you should for only being thirty two. Most of them were not friendly with each other. Nasty divorces where venomous words were thrown around and battles lasted for months over possessions and children and pets. To have two people just recognize that their marriage wasn’t working and decide to work together for the sake of their kid was incredibly mature and only made him that much more attractive. You really needed this guy to have a fault because it was getting harder and harder not to think he might be the most perfect guy you'd ever met.

“It’s really nice that you two are there for each other like that. It’s hard being a single parent.”

“Yeah. It is,” he agreed. “You’re always feeling like you’re doing the job of two people. But I’m very lucky to have her and my friends to help me out.”

“Yeah, I have my friend Janice and her husband Matt. They help me out a lot whenever they can. Matt is actually the one who got Eli into baseball. He started taking him to the batting cages right after him and Janice started dating. And he’s taken him to a couple games. That’s why Eli wanted to play.”

“Well, Jere is definitely glad for that. He was practically bursting to tell me that Eli was going to be on the team.”

“Those two really seem to have connected,” you said fondly. “Eli talks about him all the time. It’s nice. He…uh, he struggled to make friends the first couple years of school. He was kind of quiet and kept to himself after…well, he just was going through some stuff. So, him finding Jeremiah has been really great. Or, I guess Jeremiah found him, actually. Eli told me Jeremiah saw his Batman backpack on the first day of school and showed him his Superman one and asked if he wanted to be his best friend. It has really brought him out of his shell.”

“Well, Jere loves him. When I ask about school, he’s never talking about anything he is actually learning.” Steve chuckled. “He’s always telling me about Eli. He would not stop talking about Eli coming to sleepover after we left your house last night and it was all he talked about this morning on the drive to school.”

“Eli too.”

“Coach Harrington, is that you?” came a sing-songy voice as Laurie Streeter came sliding up next to him with her cart.

“Oh, hi Ms. Streeter,” Steve greeted with a nod.

“I thought that was you,” she beamed and was that, was she actually batting her eyelashes at him? You grimaced at the woman in her mid thirties acting like some teenage girl with a crush. “I just couldn’t pass up the chance to say hi to my favorite baseball coach. You know, Richie hasn’t been able to stop talking about how much he loves baseball ever since the first practice the other night.”

“Well, good. I’m glad he’s enjoying it. I try to make sure all the boys are learning but having fun.”

“Oh, and you do such a wonderful job.”

Her hand fell on his forearm as she leaned into him, pressing her ample cleavage against his bicep. Steve’s eyes widened and you noticed the red that was creeping along his neck, up over his jaw, coloring his cheeks. But was he blushing because he was flattered or because he was mortified?

You were certainly mortified. You couldn’t even bring yourself to ask him if he wanted to maybe get a cup of coffee sometime and this woman was practically melding their bodies into one in the liquor aisle of the grocery store.

Laurie was that mom that was always put together. You never caught her without a full face of make-up and not a hair out of place. Her husband left her for a younger model last year and instead of letting it beat her down, she’d come back with a vengeance. She’d taken up Pilates and even you had to appreciate how tight her ass looked in her yoga pants. Apparently, Laurie had decided to show her ex just what he’d given up when he walked away.

You looked down at yourself. It wasn’t that you were sloppy. You were wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, normal attire for your off days. You'd put on some concealer and mascara this morning and you'd pulled your hair into a ponytail in preparation for meeting Janice for coffee. You looked presentable but you would never be able to compete with that if that was what Steve was looking for.

Laurie might be a single mom but she was living off of the generous alimony she received in the divorce from her cardiac surgeon ex husband. She didn’t work. She had a nanny for her three sons. She had all the time and money in the world for Pilates, spa days, and the salon. You were lucky if you remembered to get a haircut every six months.

“That’s really nice of you to say,” Steve replied, and you watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.

“Oh my gosh, coach. Your arm is so firm. Wow. Do you work out?” asked Laurie, giggling as she wrapped her hand around his bicep, squeezing.

“I mean…I try to get to the gym a few days a week,” he stammered.

Jesus. Laurie was ready to straddle him right there next to the wine and Steve was struggling to speak. This situation was just getting uncomfortable at this point and you needed an out. Janice was wrong. There was no way you were going to embarrass yourself by setting yourself up to be rejected.

“It shows. You know, it must get so lonely in that house all by yourself when Jeremiah is with his mom. I could bring over dinner sometime for you, keep you company…”

That was it. You could not listen to it anymore. “You know, I really need to get going so I’ll let you two catch up,” you interjected, attempting to maneuver your cart around them.

“Oh my gosh! I didn’t even see you there,” Laurie said, her voice dripping with false sweetness, letting you know she absolutely had seen you there. She just didn’t care. The woman’s eyes roved over you from head to toe. “Oh honey, you must let me give you the name of my stylist. You could really do with a…well, everything. I know single motherhood is challenging but you really can’t just let yourself go. When was the last time you had your hair done, sweetie? How do you ever expect to find a man walking around like that?”

“Well, you know it’s hard to find the time,” you seethed, the urge to just leave your cart and dart out of the store overwhelming. But no, you'd promised Eli nachos for dinner. You would not let this woman bully you into running away in shame.

“I’m a single mother and somehow I find the time.”

“Yeah, it must be so hard when you have a full-time nanny to mother your children. Some of us have to actually do that ourselves.”

Laurie looked like she’d been slapped, her jaw almost hitting the floor. Steve’s hand slid across his mouth but you caught how his eyes crinkled. He was hiding a smile, amused by your comment.

“You know, I happen to enjoy a woman who doesn’t feel the need to get all made up just to go grocery shopping,” he offered. “When you’re naturally beautiful you don’t need to hide it behind a bunch of face paint, anyway.”

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth to conceal the smile that came at his words. Could this man be any more perfect? Did he even have a flaw? And the look on Laurie’s face, the way she turned tomato red, the fumes that you could practically see coming out of your nose, only made the moment even more enjoyable.

“Well, this was fun but I really need to get going now. I have to pick up my son and make dinner for him since I don’t have anyone to do that for me. I’ll let you both get back to your shopping,” you said simply, pushing your cart down the aisle, heading for the checkout.

“Hey, I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” Steve called out.

You turned to look at him over your shoulder, “Yeah, tomorrow, facepaint free, split ends, and all.”

Oh, but that look on Laurie’s face, sheer jealousy and outrage, would have you smiling for the rest of the day.

____________________________________________________________

Steve drove toward home after checking in at the job site, unable to stop grinning, occasionally chuckling as he remembered Laurie’s face when you had called her out. As he remembered the smile you gave him when he spoke up, saying you didn’t need make-up because you were naturally beautiful, his chest warmed.

Well, okay, he hadn’t exactly said you were beautiful but it was implied. At least, he thought it was. And you didn’t need make-up. He loved that you were comfortable enough in your own skin that you didn’t feel the need to cover every inch of your face in make-up. He loved that you didn’t feel the need to look like you were heading out to the club just to pop into the grocery store.

He’d dated his fair share of high-maintenance girls. And while there was nothing wrong with a lady caring about her appearance, there was something annoying about having to wait an hour and a half for them to get ready when you casually mentioned grabbing some lunch. Now you were waiting until closer to dinnertime and grouchy, which inevitably led to a very unpleasant meal when you started sniping at each other. He’d been there more times than he could count.

And Laurie Streeter, she needed someone to knock her down a few pegs. She walked around with her nose stuck up in the air, acting like she was better than everyone else. She had milked that divorce for all she could and honestly, her shitbag of a husband had cheated, so Steve didn’t fault her for that. But everyone knew she didn’t get her hands dirty if she didn’t have to. She had a cleaning lady, a nanny, and in the summers she even had a pool boy. That woman had no idea what it was like to actually be a single mother.

Steve pulled his Ford Explorer into the driveway in front of his house. He’d bought it after Nancy and him had separated. There’d been no arguing. She was the mother of his child. He told her to go ahead and keep the house. He’d be the one to find somewhere new but she’d wanted a fresh start too. So, they’d sold the house they bought together when he was only twenty-three and split the profits.

It fit his needs. In fact, it was probably a bit more space than he needed for just him and Jeremiah. It was a two story house with three bedrooms and two full baths. The kitchen area was decent sized with a wrap around island where he kept a couple barstools and a space for a dining room table. He’d refinished the basement two years ago and that was where most of Jere’s toys were, along with a tv for him to watch his cartoons.

But his favorite part was the backyard. The house was rare in the neighborhood, boasting a quarter acre of land with a large backyard. His fence butted right up to the treeline and he spent many nights sitting out on the deck he’d built or on the patio with a fire going and a beer in his hand. Jeremiah loved the swingset he’d put in and he was begging for them to get a pool but that was a big expense and a hell of a lot of upkeep. Still, he promised the kid he’d think about it.

Unlocking the front door, he smiled as the familiar tapping of paws across hardwood greeted him. Miles came dashing around the corner. He swore that the dog looked like he was smiling, with his big old tongue hanging out of the right side of his mouth. His size intimidated people sometimes but he was just a big old teddy bear.

“Hey there Miles,” Steve cooed, rubbing his head. “You miss me? Your buddy will be home from school soon. I have to get him in about an hour. You wanna come with me?”

The dog huffed loudly, curling his body and spinning in a circle as if he understood exactly what Steve was saying. And quite honestly, sometimes he wondered if he did. He’d spent many a night spilling his guts to the furry beast, telling him things he never shared with anyone else, not even Robin.

“You know, there’s going to be some new people coming to meet you tomorrow,” he told Miles, heading into the living room, the Newfoundland trailing behind him. “Jere’s friend, Eli, is going to come over and spend the night. He’s really excited to meet you.”

He sat down on the couch and the dog did not hesitate, leaping right up next to him. He laid down, his big head dropping onto Steve’s knee and he absent mindedly stroked his fur, fingers moving through the black, shaggy fur.

“His mom’s coming too and I think I might like her.” Miles lifted his head, those big brown eyes observing him. “I know. I know. I see a pretty girl and I’m losing my mind again but I don’t think that’s what this is. Not this time. This girl’s different. But she lost her husband and I don’t know how long ago it was. I don’t want to push her into something she’s not ready for. And you know, if I asked her out and then it didn’t work, what if she felt awkward and then Eli and Jere couldn’t hang out anymore? He’d be so hurt. I don’t know. I thought about asking if she wanted to stay for dinner tomorrow. I mean, the kids would be here too. So, it’s not really like asking her on a date, right? It would just give me a chance to maybe talk to her, get to know more about her. I just feel like I have to be careful with this one, you know? It’s not just my heart that could be on the line this time. So, what do you think? Should I ask if she wants to stay for dinner tomorrow? Have a burger? It’s casual enough, right? Just being friendly?”

Miles leapt up and barked before bestowing Steve’s face with one of his sloppy kisses. He laughed, grabbing Miles’ big head, placing a kiss right on his black nose.

“I guess that means it’s a good idea, huh?”

Miles woofed loudly and maybe it wasn’t the most valid way to make a decision, but Steve trusted this big beast more than he did most people. Alright, he’d ask you to stay and eat with them. No big deal. You'd all eaten together the night before. Then he could maybe figure out what the right call was with this because he really wanted to find out if you were as different as you seemed. He wanted to know if this time could be different, if maybe he’d chosen the right one.

Chapter 4

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bettyfrommars · 1 year

Text

I'm on Fire

biker!Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Part 3

🚨18+Only, biker!Eddie, tow truck driver!Eddie, adult themes, mentions of smut, angst, mutual pining, slow burn, cheating (not on reader), alcohol consumption, flirting, mention of biker!Steve Harrington, 90's music & nostalgia, mention of a loved one with cancer, self-deprecation, eventual smut. Reader and Eddie are late 20's-early 30's

Word count: 5k

Series Masterlist

🔸Reader and Eddie are pining for each other in secret, and reader takes bold initiative to bring Eddie a gift. The two of you keep crossing paths as this crush intensifies and complications arise.

A/N: Always look forward to hearing from you all, what you thought, or what you'd like to see happen 👀

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Steve called a day or two after the initial meetup, but Katie was headed to a conference out of the state, so they didn’t make any immediate plans. The conversation started in the living room where she first picked up the phone; she made a wild hand gesture, arm pivoting from side to side at the elbow, mouthing his name to you so that you would know who it was, and then she switched to the phone in her bedroom. They talked for over an hour, and he told her he’d check back in when she was back from her trip.

“Okay, so Steve thinks that Eddie has a little crush on you,” Katie told you when she came back out to give you the recap. “He said you might have to make the first move, though.”

Your heart fluttered, but you tried to play it cool. You looked up from your magazine. “Please tell me you didn’t spend the entire time talking about me?”

“Oh, of course not,” Katie shrugged. “Only a half hour or so.”

“If I were Eddie, I’d be pissed if my friend spilled the beans like that,” you said with a tilt of your head.

“I told Steve I wouldn’t tell you he said that,” she countered.

“Well, that makes it better.”

“Steve is a really…” Katie hesitated, trying to find the right descriptive as she plopped back down on the couch. “...intelligent, charming guy. I don’t know, maybe I’ll go out with him when I get back. If he asks like a gentleman.”

“Maybe?”

“Probably.”

----------

The next week came and went. You were busy, so you didn’t have much of a chance to think about the possibility that Eddie might have a crush on you.

No, that was a lie: you thought about it a lot. The bad part was, this whole feeling a chemical pull towards him was a distraction that you didn’t need in your life, and it made you do creepy, irrational things, like driving by Munson’s Garage one day after work just to see if you could get a glimpse of him.

The good part was, it had you feverishly painting until after midnight a few days in a row. You were feeling inspired for the first time in months, and even if you still had to be at work at 9am looking like death warmed over, it was worth it.

On Thursday afternoon, you were at the gallery preparing a huge piece of art to be shipped out of the country when you heard it: the unmistakable purring growl of a chopper gunning down your street. You let the corner of the box fall to the ground with a heavy thud, eliciting a horrific yowl from your assistant who had been helping you wrap it up meticulously for the past hour, and sprang to the window like a little girl at the distant tinkle of Santa’s bells.

There were three of them atop their menacing leather and chrome beasts, but they were already disappearing around a corner at the other end of the street by the time you got there. The next thing you knew, you were out on the sidewalk with your hand up to block the sun, squinting, trying to see if one of them had long, dark hair. The high pitched whine of a car alarm shrilled in the distance, and a woman pushing a baby stroller had to go around, eyeballing you with disdain as she went.

---------

Meanwhile, Eddie was seeing you in the face of every woman he met, and simultaneously looking forward to the day when that was not the case. He didn’t have the energy to pine over someone, let alone have issues performing in bed because the woman wasn’t you. Having sex with other women was starting to feel like cheating, and that was an icky, embarrassing truth that he would never confess to one of his buddies.

“Oh? You can’t stop thinking about her when you fuck other women? Damn, that pussy must be tight.”

You were basically a figment of his imagination, and he was having these really gross daydreams about just….holding your hand and shit like that. Not cool, not bad ass. Jerking off to a porn or the idea of some nameless, faceless mouth on his cock was fine, but doing it to the idea of tasting your cum while his mouth was between your legs made him want to lobotomize himself with Jack Daniels.

This was dangerous, bitch-boy territory, and he honestly couldn’t say he’d navigated it in almost a decade. Maybe he’d been hanging out with Steve “Loverboy” Harrington for too long, listening to him get all goo-goo ga-ga over some new chick every other week. But also, he envied him; Steve didn’t just sip the juice when it was good, he let himself drown in it, over and over again.

Eddie shrugged it off and acted like he didn’t care the day Steve told him that he talked to your roommate, but then he came back around a few hours later and asked him if he was planning to meet up with her again. “You should call her friend,” Steve told you. “She digs you, Katie told me.” Katie told him no such thing, as she had a very strict girl code, but Steve couldn’t help himself.

So yeah, Eddie drove by your work on Thursday. Innocent enough, but the part of town where you worked was very high-end, and nowhere near the place him and the boys were headed, but nevertheless, he gave the signal and they followed. One of his buddies ran with the Coffin Kings---a bearded monster they called Tank----and he got a kick out of rumbling his hog close to the expensive cars parked along the street to shake the foundation and make their alarms go off.

He didn’t even turn his head to see through the glass storefront and check if you were inside, that wasn’t the point: he just wanted to be in your orbit, to drive down a street that you parked on every day.

Holy shit, Munson, why don’t you just put your tap shoes on and break into song about it?

--------

On Friday, you left work early, announcing that you had a very important appointment, and then you went and sat in your car around the corner from Munson’s Garage for a half hour. It took you way too long to work up the courage, listening to an album by the band Hole, specifically the song Violet. A gang of bikers rolled up to the stop sign across from you, and you did a comical job of sliding down in your seat so they wouldn’t see you.

Once they were gone, you looked down at what you had in your lap; a gift wrapped up in brown butcher paper and tied with jute string. “This is so stupid,” you told yourself, putting your car in gear to drive away, but then you flipped it into park again with a pensive groan.

After a dramatic pause, cursing as you went, you circled the block one more time and then entered via the open gate at the side entrance. The main garage and supposed clubhouse for the Coffin Kings---the spot where you had dropped the boys off the week before---was to your left, but ahead of you was another garage, and the wide expanse of a junkyard full of wrecked cars behind a fence. Your eyes landed on the black tow truck that Eddie drove, giving you hope that you hadn’t missed him. A row of motorcycles were lined up in the middle of the pavement, and then to the right there were angled parking spots under an awning, and that is where you went.

Your stomach bleated its discontent when you saw that there were at least 10 or 12 guys in biker cuts hanging outside near the grill, flipping burgers in front of the main garage, blocking the entrance to where you would most likely find Eddie. They all had the Coffin Kings insignia placard on the back of their leather vests, and they were tossing back beers and taking shots. After you parked, you craned your neck to see if Eddie was one of them, but there were a few obscured by one of the pillars holding the roof up. Surely, he would’ve spotted your car as you inched along at an elderly crawl.

You took a minute to fix your hair and makeup in the visor mirror, practiced stretching your lips in a grimace smile a few times to make sure there was no lipstick on your teeth, and then made the leap.

-------

Eddie should’ve been down with the guys getting hammered, or having a game of pool in the club house after a long week, but no. He was on the second floor in his apartment, getting in some bench presses before he showered and continued on with his evening of laundry and trying to get to bed at a decent hour for once. He was listening to Slayer, but the widow was open and he could hear them all giving each other shit down below.

In between songs, at the end of a set, he heard a different type of ruckus going on outside and it made him sit up, sweat dripping into his eyes and down his neck. The guys were giving wolf whistles and saying something about “look at that fine piece of ass” and Eddie didn’t know why, but he felt like he needed to go down and investigate.

That was when he opened the door and saw you making your way across the parking lot. You were carrying something flat and square in your hands and you looked like you were cautiously assessing the scene, like maybe you should return to the safety of your car, and he didn’t blame you.

“Cool it, fuckers,” Eddie told the guys as he pushed by some of them to go out and head over to meet you. But he could still hear them saying things to each other under their breath, whispering about you, and how good you looked.

He didn’t want you to be there, in that moment. Not because he didn’t want to see you, but because he didn’t want the other guys to think you were just some whore he was fucking, or worse yet---he didn’t want any of them to think that they could fuck you. He tried to walk toward you at the right angle so that you would be blocked from their view, inadvertently squaring his shoulders and asserting his dominance as he went.

-------

You had a feeling this was a bad idea, but you had no idea how bad until a dozen pairs of eyes were turning to stare at you, narrowing on you, and unabashedly so. You were too far away to hear what they were saying, and there was heavy metal music blaring from inside the building somewhere. You planted your feet, looking around, wondering what you would do if Eddie wasn’t there: hand over the cutsie little gift to one of his biker buddies? You didn’t want to embarrass him.

But then, the door opened and there he was, frowning at you like you were the last person on earth he wanted to see. It was more of a scowl, actually, eyebrows knitted together and upper lip rising in an abominable snarl. He said something to the rest of the guys, and a few of them seemed to snap back to reality, but he couldn’t wipe the pissed look off from his face as he made his way over to you with an air of reluctance.

He had on a white wife beater and jeans with his boots unlaced. The front of the tank was damp and his arm muscles were especially defined and swollen. You could see that he had some kind of huge, tattooed chest piece that came up to his clavicle and stretched over his shoulders. Various other ink decorated his arms; the one on his forearm being the most faded of them all. Your pussy fluttered at the sight of him, even though he looked like he was ready to put his hand around your throat. Or maybe because of it?

“What are you doing here?” He barked in a voice low enough so that only the two of you could hear it.

His attitude was not your favorite. “Well, hello to you too, grumpy.”

Now you wished you didn’t have the stupid gift in your hand. Couldn’t you have left it in the car and waited to see if he was here first? No, you had to bring it with you, and now it was too late, dummy.

Eddie glanced over his shoulder at the guys, jaw muscles flexing, and then he gestured for you to walk with him over to where your car was parked, under the awning, out of the overcast but bright sky.

He put a hand at your elbow and maneuvered you so that you were facing away from the riff raff, the view of your backside blocked by your car. There was a matte black Chevelle parked in the slot next to you, and he leaned back against it, crossing his arms at his chest.

“Sorry about that,” he told you. “We usually keep them locked up during the daytime.”

At his joke, your shoulders softened and you exhaled, flexing your fingers on the package. The movement caught his attention and his cocoa brown eyes shifted to the gift.

“You said to come by whenever, but I should’ve called,” you hadn’t planned out what you would say, but now you wished you had.

“No, no,” he assured you, crossing his feet at the ankles. “I promised you a spare tire. I haven’t forgotten.”

Truth, you had totally spaced that he said he’d give you a free tire, which was no small expense, but it was a much better reason than, “I made you something because I can’t stop thinking about you,” or “here’s a gift, now let’s kiss.”

“What’s that?” He asked the dreaded question, tilting his chin at the package and meeting your eyes down the end of his nose.

“Oh this?” You asked cheerily, feigning mock surprise, as if it slipped your mind that it was in your hand. “This is nothing. Just a thank you for...the tow and the tire. I made it, it’s no big deal.”

“You made it?” His voice flew to a higher octave than he was comfortable with at that revelation, and an invisible warm hand wrapped around his heart.

Scratching your eyebrow, you passed it to him. “You don’t have to open it here,” you added, hoping he wouldn’t.

He held it in both hands, strong fingers curling around the backside as his thumbs stroked the front of it to feel the texture of the paper. It had been a while since he’d received a thoughtful gift that wasn’t booze or scratch tickets or a Hickory Farms sausage and cheese platter.

Overall, he was speechless, but one thing that did come second nature to him was offering acts of service as a way of showing his appreciation. “Let me take this up to my place, and then I’ll get you that tire. Can you wait here? I’ll just be a second.”

He was already on the move, but you stopped him. “I can’t sorry, I have to go. Rain check?”

You put your hand on the crook of his elbow without thinking, to stop him, and then all you could think about was the heat of his skin, the way the hair on his forearm tickled your finger. His eyes went to your hold on him and his Adam’s apple jerked in a quick swallow.

You lowered your hand. “Maybe I’ll surprise you again one day,” you were blushing now and you moved your chin to your chest to try and hide it. This was feeling less and less like an interaction between two grown adults, and more like some high school crush that you giggled about to your friends and wrote little hearts around each others name in class.

Over your shoulder, Eddie could see that Wayne was coming that way with an invoice in his hand, probably to ask him a question about one of the pickups that day. He looked a bit pale and peaked, and even though Eddie begged him to take the day off work whenever he had chemo treatments, the old man refused to listen.

“Okay, so, I’ll see you around then,” Eddie heard it come out of his mouth and he wished he could take it back. The tone was off; he sounded like he didn’t care if he saw you again, but that was the furthest thing from the truth.

“Okay, bye,” and you were back behind the wheel of your car, panting, wishing you had a paper bag to hyperventilate into. In the rear view mirror, you watched an older man with gray hair meet up with Eddie. His clothes were baggy, as if he’d suddenly dropped a significant amount of weight. Eddie clapped his free hand on the older man’s shoulder and they walked back to the garage together at a slow pace, your gift in his hand swinging level with his wallet chain.

--------

After finishing up for Wayne and demanding that he go home to get some rest, Eddie was finally alone again in his apartment. The string you used to secure the package might as well have been steel bars with how tight it was tied, and so he reached over for the butterfly knife on his nightstand and popped it open with a few flicks of his wrist. He sawed the string with caution, careful not to puncture whatever was in it.

His heart was racing and his palms were a little sweaty, and for some reason, the rising of sweet emotions made him angry. Just settle down there, bucko, the voice in his head told him, she probably gives gifts to anyone who does anything remotely nice for her; this doesn’t make you special.

He touched the black painted edges first, realizing it was a canvas, and then the back side fell open to him first: To: Eddie, my hero, and then it was dated and had your name signed on the wood cradling.

Turning it over, he had no idea what to expect, but as his eyes took it in, a quivering sigh escaped his lips.

It was a piece of art depicting the sunset exploding from beyond the low hills in Hawkins; the view you see from the freeway from the exact spot where you had blown your tire, the spot where the two of you had met for the first time. It wasn’t just a standard scenery painting either; it was abstract and full of texture, with tiny bits of paper collage added in. Bright, bold colors, with tiny hand drawn details.

He took down his framed Dio poster so that he could hang your 12x12 painting across from his bed where he could see it from all angles of the room. He puffed his cheeks out and blew air from his lips to make a low whistling sound as he stood there admiring it, wishing he would’ve opened it in front of you, so that you would know how much he cherished it. You might never know how much a gift like this meant to him; it was immediately one of his prized possessions.

Absently, he crumpled the wrapping paper and string up in his hands, pounding it into a compact ball, so that he could make a jump shot for the trash can, and then made it in with a swoosh.

What he didn’t see crushed inside the ball was the square, pink piece of paper with a little note on it that said: “I know Steve has this number, but I also wanted you to have it. Call me sometime.” and then your phone number in cute, block digits.

-----------

Another week went by, and you had officially resigned yourself to the fact that you would, indeed, die alone. Putting yourself out there, even as infinitesimally as you had with Eddie, almost killed you. Getting excited every time the phone rang, hoping it was him, had you regretting the choice to ever make a move in the first place. Besides Katie, you were the only single person in your friend group, and that’s just how it would stay until Keifer Sutherland proposed.

Steve called Katie though, and even though she had the feeling he was a bit of a player, the idea of jumping on his cock had her chomping at the bit.

“Are you sure?” Katie asked as she dowsed herself with hairspray in the bathroom mirror, an L7 cassette in the tape player. You were just behind her in the hallway, and you leaned back to avoid the fumes. “I can hang out with Steve a different night, I don’t want you do go to Marysville alone.”

Marysville was a town down the road, not fifteen miles away, and there was a huge gallery opening in an old airplane hangar, and as the manager of Moon River Gallery, you were forced to attend.

“That’s sweet of you, but Jeff will be there.” You held your breath and waved your hand in front of your face. “But I’m counting on you to get laid for the both of us.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m going to let Steve know what a deadbeat his buddy Eddie is for not calling you to even thank you for that gorgeous painting.” Katie was using her protective mom voice.

“Please don’t,” you begged her. “He just didn’t want to see me again, and that’s fine. I don’t need someone to call me out of obligation. Really, don’t mention anything to Steve or I will turn to stone and crumble to pieces.”

Katie went into your bedroom instead of hers, and held up a certain shirt, asking if she could borrow it. “That’s actually yours,” you told her, waiting on the bed as she changed.

You were putting your arms into your jacket, just about to head out the door, when Katie came around the corner holding up flavored condoms and Magnums in each hand. “Do you want to take any of these with you? Plenty of cute guys in Marysville.”

“No, thank you,” you assured her politely, fixing your collar. “Besides, I’m sure Jeff will have a stockpile with him.”

But Katie threw one at you anyway, and you caught it with a slap to your chest. “Here, just take one of these Magnums, for prayer’s sake.”

----------

The airplane hanger gallery was situated near the lake, and it was an unarguably stunning venue full of massive artworks and expertly blown glass. You and Jeff arrived together, but went your separate ways initially, both stumbling upon friends from other galleries you knew, and you sipped some expensive champagne while you mingled. You were bent over, reading the details about one of the paintings, when two of the new people arriving caught your eye.

Fantastic, it was Eddie and Charlene.

Charlene looked like she was a movie star about to walk the red carpet and Eddie looked as good as ever. From the waist down was dressed like normal: jeans, boots, and wallet chain--but he always put a nice dark red or black shirt on for the events. Three buttons undone down the front to give a peak of that chest tattoo, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, a little earring dangling from one ear, and those chunky, silver rings on his hand. Obviously the two of them were a couple, regardless of the fact that she was married, and regardless of the fact that Eddie referred to himself as being single.

He escorted her in with his arm linked in hers, and you could tell he was about to fall back and head outside to wait, but then his eyes locked on you. You turned your back on him, guzzled your champagne, and then headed over to where you could get a big glass of wine, thirstier than you’ve ever been in your life. Jeff had volunteered to drive you both back, and you had just decided in that moment that you were going to let him.

You were a couple of swallows in when you felt the front of his warm body press up at your side, against your arm, hands in his pockets, and then he leaned his head down closer, wavy dark hair skimming your shoulder, to whisper in your ear. “Your art should be in a place like this.”

“Oh hiiiiii,” you turned, pretending to be shocked to see him. “What a nice surprise. How are you?”

He backed up a step to give you some room, not checking even once to see where Charlene was or if she cared where he was; his eyes were intent on you.

Jeff, was off to the side, flirting with one of the guys on the catering staff, when he glanced over to see who you were standing with, and his eyes bulged wide.

“You clean up good,” you told Eddie, getting intoxicated on how delicious he smelled. Almost two glasses of alcohol in, you were already getting ballsy, and you reached up to brush his hair back from his shoulder and straighten his collar. “You look like you could run for mayor.”

He glanced down at himself, and then met your gaze from under his lashes, full pink lips curving up on one side. “I was going for Colombian drug lord, but I guess I missed the mark.”

Okay, so he made you laugh and he was sexy. So what.

Someone you knew came up to hug you and say hello, and you expected Eddie to take advantage of the moment and make a getaway, but he stayed.

“Can I get you another one?” He asked, gesturing to your almost empty glass. Never mind that everyone was glancing over at him, asking themselves with shifting eyes who the hell let the scary biker dude in to mingle with the rich people. The irony of a bunch of art snobs recoiling at someone who brought something new and different to the table was not lost on you. Sure, he made them uncomfortable, but who would be the one to ask bad boy biker Eddie Munson to leave? Eddie could flick his lighter open and set one of the paintings on fire, and still no one would question him.

“Aren’t you here with someone?” You asked, glancing around for that big gold explosion of wealth that was Charlene.

“No,” Eddie said initially, but then. “Well, I drive for Charlene from time to time but we’re not...together, if that’s what you mean.”

Eddie could feel Charlene giving him the evil eye from across the room, but he didn’t care. He stopped having sex with her two weeks ago, but he wasn’t ready to give up the extra cash working as her personal escort service and hired muscle.

Staying sober for the night, he brought another glass of wine over to you, and then he started asking you questions about the artwork and the artists as the two of you walked.

“Isn’t that Charlene Gregson’s boy toy?” Manny, one of the caterers, asked Jeff as they watched the two of you flirt with each other.

Jeff nodded, a smile creeping across his face. “Oh, this is going to be juicy.”

There was a snap high on the back of your shirt, and you could feel that it had come loose, so you beckoned for Eddie to follow you to the walkway just beyond the paintings, into the shadows, so you could put your glass down on the cement base of one of the pillars.

“Could you...help me with this?” You turned your back to him and pulled your hair to the side. “Fasten this for me, please? I can’t reach it.”

Eddie licked his lips as he closed in behind you, enjoying the proximity of it, and moved his fingers to your neck, callouses from his fingers grazing your smooth skin, taking an audible, deep intake of breath as he caught a whiff of your shampoo. When he was done, his hand slid down your back, indulging himself, letting it land at the curve of your hip in a slow circle. “All good,” he said in a low whisper.

You spun around to face him with a crooked smile, the alcohol in full affect, and your eyes fell on a loose thread that had escaped and was resting on his crisp, dark red shirt, your eyes lingering on the black ink of the tattoo underneath.

You brought your hand up to pick the thread off, but then he caught your wrist, your palm sinking flat to his body, melting, right at the epicenter of his life blood; his heart racing. You shifted your gaze from his grip to meet his eyes, pupils dilated, and your breath caught in your chest; your fingers started stretching out and back against him in an alien form of physical communication.

His lips parted, gaze flicking to your mouth, holding your wrist with a grip that was firm but tender while his other hand rose to cup your face. Rough fingertips grazing your throat until they curled around the base of your head, metal rings clicking together, and then his thumb brushed across your jawline.

You bit your bottom lip softly, delirious need pulsing in your core.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Your voice was tiny, and his eyebrows knitted together, confused. You could see he was just about to say something, but then:

“Eddie,” the unmistakable voice of Charlene Gregson called to him from the other side of the gigantic painting you were both doing a poor job of hiding behind. “It’s time to go. Please pull the car around?"

She was looking directly at the two of you from only a few yards away, with her hands on her hips, but still he held your palm to his chest and searched your eyes, trying to understand. After a beat, he cleared his throat and said, “I’m sorry,” under his breath before turning on his heel to go and play chauffeur again, shoving one hand in his pocket to get the keys as he went.

Charlene stood there and stared at you for a bit longer, her eyes taking you in from head to foot, probably trying to understand what you had that she didn’t. But it must’ve occurred to her that she was the one he was going home with and not you, because then she flipped you a little sly smile and puffed a laugh out of her nose as she turned, shaking her head.

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Part 4

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my lovelies who asked to be tagged: @hellv1ra, @tlclick73, @corrodedcoffincumslut, @ms1oftheboys

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #older eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #stranger things eddie #fem reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson series

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roseharpermaxwell · 6 months

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RWRB FirstPrince Holiday Recs

Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's Eve - click below for my favorites.

I Don't Know About You, But I'm Feeling... by IBoatedHere. T, 794 words. Four birthdays in Alex's life.

kiss me, and tell me that i’ll see you again by fxckingeyelashes. T, 2k. “Forgive me if I’m being too forward, but are you into guys perhaps? I’d like to know if I have a chance.”

“A chance at what?” Alex raises his eyebrows. It’s only then that he notices the rainbow G A Y under Henry’s name.

“A chance to be your new year’s kiss.”

(you can start) a family who will always show you love by @waterloolovers. T, 2.1k. “Confetti eggs.”

“Cascarones, but yes,” Alex grins, “I’ll give you a pass since your Spanish is a bit tragic.”

“Rude.” Henry rolls his eyes fondly. “So you just… chase each other around and try to smash eggs on each other? Seems rather messy with confetti going everywhere.”

“It’s very messy, but that’s the fun part of it. It’s meant to bring good fortune for the rest of the year."

The Spirit of Giving by @cha-melodius. T, 2.3k. His practice tamales come out pretty damned good, if he says so himself, and the ones for the holiday party are going to be even better. Alex is confident now that there’s no way his won’t be the best dish a the whole potluck; he’s definitely going to win (and no, he doesn’t care that you can’t ‘win’ a potluck, June).

(1 million words challenge holiday edition, prompt: “My holiday dish is better than your holiday dish.”)

Speaking my Language by HMS_Chill. G, 2.3k. Prompt:

"Alex always saying sweet things to Henry in Spanish but won't tell him what any of it means, and he's always google translating them and awe-ing at how cute Alex is and then like maybe he learns how to say something adorable to and says it to Alex and Alex just like melts or something"

one of your girls. by seafloor. M, 2.4k. New Years Eve; three years later. An hour before midnight.

Santa, Tell Me by @harrysglasses. G, 2.5k. Henry receives a very special gift from his office Secret Santa and is determined to find out who it's from.

we play all day (and spread holiday cheer) by headabovethewater. E, 2.5k. Nora guffaws. “You fucked Santa’s Elf?!”

“I mean,” Alex pauses and shrugs, “not with the costume on, obviously.”

“I can’t fucking believe you,” Nora exclaims, her hands cupping her own face in disbelief. She looks over Alex’s shoulder and cocks an eyebrow, before she lowers her hands and her tone, and asks, “Since when do you have a thing for blondes?”

I'll Have a Flu Christmas by @three-drink-amy. G, 2.7k. Plans go awry when Alex comes down with the flu right before Christmas while Henry waits for him to fly over and meet him in England. Prepared to spend Christmas sick and alone, Alex doesn't expect Henry to take matters into his own hands.

i think i'm falling for you by WaterlooLovers. T, 2.8k. Henry blinks at the man. He’s thankful the rink is fairly dark, only disco lights and black lights surrounding them, so the man can’t see the blush on his cheeks. The man is gorgeous, and still holding his waist, and Henry might be hallucinating. Maybe he did crack his skull on the hard rink floor. “Um.”

Trick or Kiss by ronans. NR, 2.9k. Henry’s been here for ten minutes and he’s already causing Alex to feel some feelings. He supposes Henry has made him a bit scared with his costume, but not in the god given Halloween way he should.

Or, Alex is throwing the Halloween party of the year and can't quite figure out why the Prince of England is haunting his every thought.

May Your New Years Dreams Come True by chamel. T, 3.1k. “In fact, I’d wager money my date will by far be the hottest there.”

Hunter scoffs, which honestly Henry doesn’t understand. It’s not like Alex hasn’t pulled in some real lookers to previous years’ parties, much to Henry’s chagrin. “Really? You want to bet?”

Alex shrugs. “Sure.”

“Henry,” Hunter says suddenly, finally—and unfortunately—acknowledging that he’s actually been standing there the whole time. “You want in on this?”

(1 million words challenge holiday edition, prompt: "Competition to see who can bring the hottest date to the New Year’s party")

you and me, forevermore by @theprinceandagcd. T, 3.1k. "He pushes up on his toes to kiss Henry, who returns the kiss immediately, greedily, tongue brushing against his in a way that makes Alex's brain short circuit just as much as it did a year ago.

A year ago.

It still does something to him, stirs something deep inside him that makes his entire body feel like pure mush. It's a memory burned so bright in his mind - cold air, a buzz in his veins, a tree in a quiet garden, fingers gripping his face, soft lips against his.

The night his world turned on its axis and shifted toward Henry, altering his path and forever tilting him closer."

Or, Alex and Henry on New Year's Eve, one year after their first, and Alex wants it to be special.

don't let me get drunk again by @getmehighonmagic. E, 3.1k. Alex had never wanted to cancel plans as much as he had while watching Henry pull a pair of light wash, tight jeans over his stockinged legs and bare ass.

Christ, he’s getting hard thinking about it now.

Merry Christmas, Darling by lucy_in_the_sky. E, 3.2k. Alex and Henry's first Christmas together as a couple. Just some good ol' fashioned Christmas smut

Wherever you are, as ever I remain by gallifreyandglowclouds. M, 3.4k. 'It’s transparently a lie, and he shouldn’t lie to Alex, but he can’t help it in the moment. He so badly wants everything to just be fine, to love this new life without a foot stuck in the old one.'

Henry can't help but feel a little homesick during his first Christmas in Brooklyn.

stars by the pocketful by weather_stained. T, 3.7k. Henry is having a terrible Halloween, so terrible that he completely forgets it even is Halloween until Alex shows up at his door asking to borrow a prop for June's costume.

Though Henry opts out of June's Halloween party, Alex makes sure he doesn't spend the holiday alone.

Call It Even by @smc-27. T, 3.7k. Alex shrugs. “I’ll go with you.”

Terrible, terrible, no good idea.

Too bad his mouth works faster than his brain. Which is…another thing he wishes to not think about. His mouth, and Alex, and all the things he could do to that man.

“All right.”

Fuck.

(aka: henry needs a +1 for a holiday party. his roommate offers.)

Help Yourself to Happiness by ronans. NR, 3.8k. ‘So you’re taking the post down, I assume? Now we’re both sober and in control of our impulses?’

Pez barks a laugh. ‘Absolutely not.’

‘I know we discussed the very real possibility that I would cry myself into oblivion without you here singing horrendously off key Christmas carols, but… isn’t this a little… desperate?’

‘I’m willing to see where this will take us, aren’t you?’ Pez asks, raising an eyebrow.

‘Says the man who would be safely out of the country after setting his best friend up with a potential murderer.’

Pez levels him with a look and then picks up Henry’s phone. ‘How many polos did he play?’ Pez turns the screen around so Henry can see the comment. ‘Does that sound like a person with murderous tendencies?’

Henry snatches the phone back. ‘This is a terrible idea.’

Or, A drunken night leads to Pez posting on Reddit, calling on any singles in the area to help Henry be a little less lonely this Christmas.

I'm not gay, but my apparel is by @clottedcreamfudge. T, 4.5k. “I’m not a salesman,” Alex points out, coming out from behind the counter and rolling up his sleeves. “I’m a purveyor of oddities, curiosities, and intrigue.”

“Yes, I saw your sign.”

“And now here we are,” Alex says, gesturing grandly and expansively to the space around him.

“Here we are,” the man says softly, then pulls one hand out of his coat pocket and holds it out to Alex. “Henry Fox-Mountchristen. I would like to purchase an oddity, curiosity, or an item of intrigue.”

you bring blue lights to dreams by headabovethewater. E, 4.5k. When Alex pulls him a bit closer and kisses him again, he thinks he sees a flash of blue peek through the opening in Henry’s shirt, but he ignores the thrill that travels down his spine and shrugs it off. Wishful thinking, he’s sure.

Or, Henry surprises Alex as they celebrate New Year's Eve together.

baby, be mine by strwbrryfox. T, 4.8k. five times alex asks henry to be his valentine and one time henry beats him to it ♥️

many times, many ways by @littlemisskittentoes. M, 4.8k. The thing is, Alex knows he can’t replace the bittersweet wave of memories that swarm Henry’s head at the sight of snow flurries and smell of peppermint in the air. He doesn’t want to. He wants Henry to keep those close, even if it is through the sepia tone of melancholy.

But Alex can’t help but wonder if maybe he can find a way to balance poignancy with something a bit easier. Something a little bit lighter. Something Henry can revisit to understand where he belongs, how he fits into the “happy” of it all any time he needs.

He looks over to Henry, finally asleep against his chest. He takes in the gentle slope of Henry’s nose, the fluttered fan of eyelashes against moon-bathed cheeks. He fixates on the subtle canyon, the soft part of Henry’s lips, the phantom wind of a silent snore, and Alex knows: the very least he can do is try.

or, holidays have always come as a reminder to Henry of what he’s lost. But Alex always manages to remind him of everything he’s gained too.

Ink it in on my skin, sign me up, make it last against the time by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf. E, 5.2k. “Okay, then,” Alex says, and Henry can’t help but smile at the hint of mischief creeping into his voice, “there’s two weeks until Valentine’s Day. We each have that long to make it happen, and we’ll do a big reveal that night. Deal?” Flecks of gold are shimmering in his copper eyes. Henry leans forward, catching Alex’s lips to seal their accord.

“Agreed.”

Alex and Henry both decide to get tattoos.

I must tell you what you will not ask by @lizzie-bennetdarcy. E, 5.3k. Henry's plans for Christmas fall through, so Alex invites him home for the holidays. They're best friends, strictly platonic roommates, so why does everyone think they're dating?

Have you ever been alone in a crowded room? by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf. T, 5.4k. When the Legendary Balls-Out Bananas White House Trio New Year's Eve Party is interrupted by a security threat, Henry, Pez, Nora, June, and Alex find themselves locked in the White House library for their own protection with nothing but time, a few bottles of champagne, and some lighthearted conversation, until a single question threatens to change everything for Henry.

You and Me, Forevermore by milowren. NR, 5.6k. When Henry gets sick a few days after Christmas, he and Alex end up celebrating New Year's together in a different way than they planned.

where every wish comes true by @hypnostheory. E, 6k. “Locked out?”

“I forgot my keys,” Alex says with a sigh, leaning against his door with a muted shiver. He was planning on a heated Uber ride to June’s apartment, not standing out in the cold ass hallway. Alex hugs his coat closer to his chest. “My friend has my spare.”

Henry nods, leaning against his own door frame. Alex isn’t sure what the man does outside of going to grad school at NYU, but it must be bench-pressing horses based on the size of his biceps. Henry reaches up to push his glasses higher on his nose and Alex swears he wasn’t that bisexual when the day started. “Would you like to wait in my apartment for your friend?”

Alex gets locked out his apartment on Christmas Eve. He's forced to take refuge in his neighbor and occasional fuck buddy Henry's apartment, and together the two get into the Christmas spirit with the help of a festive costume and a silk ribbon.

The Honeymoon Suite by clottedcreamfudge. E, 6.1k. Henry's plane is grounded, which is absolutely fine, and not at all the worst possible outcome on Christmas Eve when he should already be on his way to London. Alex's plane is also grounded, but fortunately for his leggy British co-worker, he's a generous soul who's happy to share the room he managed to bag at a local hotel while they wait for their new flights.

So, so generous.

Baby, it's Halloween and we can be anything by sheisraging. E, 6.3k. Alex is furious. More furious than he should be about the whole thing, but still. Plans were made. Money was spent. Costumes were purchased—not even rented—purchased!

it's in the stars, it's who we are by @indomitable-love. E, 6.4k. 'Henry pulls back with wide, startled eyes, releases him roughly and staggers backwards. He lets out a mumbled curse and turns on his heel, and Alex has just enough of something still firing in his brain to reach out and catch Henry’s wrist. Just enough awareness of the fact that Henry is about to run, to say, ‘No, wait,’ before he can disappear through the snow.'

or, the AU where Henry doesn't run after the New Year's Eve kiss.

Re: Inappropriate Festive Party Conduct [Sent with High Importance!] by @largepeachicedtea. E, 6.5k.

Alex has changed his suit into something soft-looking and appropriately red, though the white shirt with the holly pin is still there, now accompanied by a trail of sparkly tinsel around his neck like a festive scarf. He’s holding a whiskey glass in one hand, leaning into something Nora is saying, and looks positively lethal. “Christ,” Henry mutters through a gulp of cider. “He looks good,” Pez agrees through a cheshire grin. “He always looks good,” Henry says. “Right now, he looks–” “Henry! Pez!” “Fuck.” “Alexander!” Pez hollers. “Babes!”

—

An office holiday party AU where Alex and Henry ignore the first rule of corporate festivities: Don't hook up with your coworker.

Ho for the Holidays by @whimsymanaged. E, 6.8k. “Listen, don’t worry about this,” Henry says quickly, already mentally crafting the passive-aggressive text he’s going to send Pez. “Better luck next year. I’ll just be off—“

“Hold your damn horses.” Alex stops Henry with a fast, surprisingly gentle hand to his wrist. His eyebrows furrow. “What did you put on your questionnaire?”

Henry’s ears go hot. “That’s none of your business.”

Alex scoffs and leans in closer. “Baby, we matched. It’s safe to say we have at least some interests in common. Be honest—was it because you confessed to having a secret desire to slap me?”

Or, Pez organizes an event called Ho for the Holidays, and these two idiots get paired up.

all my time is yours to spend by smc_27. T, 6.8k. Any way you look at it, Bea is not meant to be here, and if it were just the lights, he’d assume she forgot to turn them off. The fire burning is another thing entirely. The weather has been dreadful, and perhaps her flight was canceled. Surely, she’d have told him as much.

He should investigate.

Waffles & Conversation by clottedcreamfudge. E, 7k. “I’m fine, I swear. I just need to give it a proper clean and I’ll be fine.”

Ellen isn’t convinced. “Okay, but you’re letting Henry look at it later.”

Alex grits his teeth for what must be the thousandth time today and tries to keep his voice level. “No, I’m not. He’s a vet, mom.”

“And he’s the closest thing to a doctor we have coming tonight,” she says firmly, letting him take his hand back and raising her eyebrows at him. “It’s that or the ER, honey. Your choice.”

You're the Perfect Gift for Me by @cha-melodius. T, 7.2k. “Twenty-one-year-old Scotch,” the man says with a low whistle, looking more impressed than anything else. “Special occasion or just expensive taste?”

Alex can’t stop his grimace. “Came up here to propose,” he says, even though this random stranger doesn’t need to hear his woes. “Found out my girlfriend’s getting back together with her high school sweetheart.”

“Ouch,” the man replies, the word sounding slightly absurd in his rounded, posh accent. He looks at the bartender. “Leave the bottle.”

(Dumped two days before Christmas by his girlfriend, Alex meets a British writer who's spending Christmas on his own in generic Tiny Town, USA, and together they discover something new to celebrate.)

Snowed In? Snow Problem by @rmd-writes. E, 7.3k. The challenge: to write a fun college AU for the queen of college AUs (though she’ll probably be mad at me for saying so). Bonus points for also including the only one bed and getting caught doing something sus tropes.

The result: hopefully all of the above, plus they’re snowed in for the holidays.

AKA Henry and Alex get snowed in at their dorm for the holidays, whatever will they do?

It's Not Thanksgiving Without the Turkeys by allmylovesatonce. M, 7.5k. Thanksgiving 2020, Alex invites Henry to join the Claremont-Diaz family for Thanksgiving. More than anything, they're excited for another excuse to be together.

(Valen)Tie Me Up by @happinessofthepursuit. E, 7.7k. “Well, I actually made your gift at one of Pez’s workshops, though I’m sure they would’ve gotten it out of me anyway,” Henry says, voice fond.

Alex’s mind is whirring, going through the monthly calendars from Seize the Play. Pez leads classes multiple times a week, but there’s only a few that Henry could’ve attended, and one in particular that would explain his own gift…

“Which one?” Alex asks.

“I think that’ll immediately be clear.”

Or, Alex and Henry exchange gifts for their first Valentine’s together—then proceed to use them.

you make it look so easy, i know it's not by @anincompletelist. T, 7.9k. Bea’s to his left, speaking frantically on the phone with who Henry hopes is the fire brigade or someone else trained to deal with these— situations. In front of him, Pez is fumbling frustratedly with the water hose, showcasing his colorful vocabulary with a flourish of jerky hand movements and chaotic pacing. On either side of the fence, his neighbors are peaking over the sides to ask if everything’s okay, and Henry feels the resolution to make a good first impression crumbling and slipping rapidly out of his grasp. Even David watches on from inside the house, his sage eyes and patriotic bowtie appraising the scene and looking back to Henry as if to say I told you so.

And the fryer — the fryer itself is up in flames, thick gray smoke swirling up into the air and soaring high above the tree line now. In the distance, the echo of sirens. Henry may faint right here, in the middle of his backyard at his new home before he's even unpacked, with all the neighbors and his family and friends watching on, on his first official American Thanksgiving. It is, by all means, not what he’d envisioned for the day.

everything ever written about love by greenandmoss. E, 8.4k.

“Bet you’re glad you knocked on this door.”

“I am, actually.” Smiles should not be this disarming. It’s disconcerting.

It’s like they’re in a movie, where all the lines are pre-written, and the smiles and the looks all mean something. The couple are scripted to catch eyes, and fall in love with each other the second their lips touch. But that’s fucking ridiculous. Henry sits there like some kind of James-Bond-Jude-Law heartthrob, and Alex’s life is not a movie. This is not how real life plays out.

Or: The Holiday au but it's just that one scene where Cameron Diaz meets Jude Law

Save a Horse, Ride a Princess by @affectionatelyrs. E, 8.6k. “I have to say, this is all quite literal, don’t you think?”

Alex wouldn’t know literal right now if it hit him in the head. “Huh?”

Henry points at Alex: “Pillow Princess,” and then to himself: “Cowboy. Ready to ride and all that.”

Alex nods dumbly. “Right.”

Or, Alex and Henry dress up as the ultimate couples costume for Halloween — themselves — and they both feel some kind of way about it

the world watched (and the world smiled) by fangirl6202. M, 9.1k. "Oh,” Alex says finally, faintly, touching one hand to his lips. Then: “Shit.”

His mind catches up then, realizing that Henry is walking away and he doesn't even think twice. He begins to quite literally chase after him, trying to get to him before he can get away or, God forbid, try to fly back to England and ghost him.

Henry is very pointedly not looking at him, stuttering apology over apology until Alex has to quite literally throw himself in front of him to get him to stop. Alex doesn’t know what to do. But the answer is simple, isn’t it? So fucking simple.

He takes Prince Fucking Charming’s lapels into his hand and kisses him back.

Or; it's New Years, and Henry stays.

more than you could ever know by indomitablelove. T, 9.5k. He watches Alex’s bright smile as he talks to Bea and Leo, the way that Ellen and Catherine have their heads bent close together and how Nora is talking with Pez, Oscar and June. He feels something catch in his throat, something blooming in his chest with such strength that it threatens to burst its way out. He never, in a million years, thought he would have this.

this year i will fall by @rmd-writes. E, 9.8k. Henry has many regrets in his life, but leaving the ice rink after a literal run in with the potential love of his life without even obtaining his name may be his biggest. With his family visiting for the holidays for the first time and ever-present work deadlines looming, he's too busy to think about how to engineer his own happy ending worthy of the novels he edits.

But what if fate has other ideas?

Ye Merry Gentlemen by allmylovesatonce. M, 9.9k. Across three different years, at different points in their lives, Alex and Henry celebrate Christmas together.

On My Mind (Let's Go) by @sparklepocalypse. E, 10k. Pez blows into his hands and rubs them together to warm them. “Listen. Just… whatever happens in there, say yes, alright?”

“I don’t follow,” Henry says, his brow furrowing. “Say yes to what?”

“Whatever opportunity comes knocking,” Pez says breezily. “You forget, I’ve seen your messages. The booze is flowing tonight, and everyone’s got their best fit on – so opportunity will knock, and you will say yes.”

(A movieverse New Year's Eve fix-it that started as crack and turned into crack taken seriously. With dancing. And smut. Like... a lot of smut.)

Someone Special by bleedingballroomfloor. E, 10k. "That was Shaan," Henry explains as Alex snuggles closer to him, pressing his nose to his neck. "The blizzard hit early, apparently. Too risky to fly."

"So Christmas here?" Alex says in that sleepy drawl of his that Henry will never get tired of. "Fuckin' sweet."

Happy NY by @myheartalivewrites. E, 11k. “Hi,” he says, and Henry looks into his eyes, taking in the brown colour and little flecks of black and gold that give it depth; the tiny freckles dotted across his nose and cheekbones, only a shade or two darker than his deep bronze skin. “Uh, sorry about that,” the man says, but he doesn’t step out of Henry’s arms. Instead his eyebrows go up, and his expression changes, from one of embarrassment to something Henry thinks is surprise, and maybe, ever so hopefully, a little bit of interest.

would you wait for me? by smc_27. T, 11k. Henry Fox has made Alex nervous from the second they met.

Now it’s different. Now Alex has to try and find a shirt to wear to a party where he’ll inevitably see Henry for the first time in a year. For the first time since Alex’s heart was broken and he’d made what felt like the brave and smart decision and left.

Coming back might be a mistake.

Gonna Give You Something (So You Know What’s on My Mind) by @affectionatelyrs. E, 11k. Alex hums, turning around to pull open the freezer drawer. “You want anything?”

But Henry barely registers his question. Not when Alex is slightly bent over, allowing Henry a perfect view of his��perfect ass. Each individual ridge of his spine is visible due to his lack of shirt. All of these things combined would normally be a large enough issue in itself to render Henry dumbstruck, except—

Except, that’s not the only thing that Henry’s faced with.

Right there, clear as day: blue lace, delicately peeking out from the waistband of his joggers. Henry’s hand immediately flies up to his cheek. The skin is hot to the touch, and he feels the imprint of where the material once lay like a brand.

Or, With the help of a white elephant gift, Henry learns that maybe the whole being-in-love-with-his-roommate thing isn’t as one-sided as he thought

Love and Hate at the Farmers' Market by myheartalive. T, 11k. Alex and Henry both work at a farmers' market and they hate each other, until suddenly— oops! They don't!

(Secret) Santa Baby by @indomitable-love. E, 11k. "When it comes to Secret Santa, Alex really does have a reputation to uphold. Everybody wants Alex to get them. Nobody actually wants to get Alex, which is why he usually ends up with novelty socks or a political biography, but he doesn’t care. Ultimately, everybody wants Alex to get their name. And right now, Alex is seconds away from finding out who his new mark is. The person that he’s going to spend the next few weeks learning inside and out to ensure that he gets them the perfect gift."

Alex gets his work nemesis, Henry, in the office Secret Santa and realises that he doesn't know nearly as much about him as he thought...

Trim my Christmas tree by @clottedcreamfudge. E, 12k. Henry is a writer, not a mall Santa, but unfortunately this year - thanks to his adorable and conniving nieces and their Aunt Beatrice - he's going to have to be both. This doesn't leave him a great deal of time to pine horribly over the part-time bookseller and Law student over at June Claremont-Diaz's shop, but somehow he manages to jam it in anyway.

Ho ho ho.

i'll be home for christmas by @dumbpeachjuice. M, 12k. He books a tiny cottage in a village called Little Snoring (not to be confused with the nearby Great Snoring) somewhere in Norfolk and tries to tell himself Christmas by himself in a foreign country is going to be an adventure from which he will have an adorable story to tell his friends and family, and not just totally depressing. At the very least he can take a cute picture of his snowy cottage and pretend he’s not totally fucking jealous of his entire family gathering in Austin without him.

If he ever fucking gets there, that is.

Or, Alex's first Christmas in the UK gets ruined by the British weather. A handsome stranger invites him to spend the holiday with his family instead.

The Holiday by @dracowillhearaboutthis. E, 13k. Henry is in no mood to attend his family's holiday gathering this year. So when June Claremont-Diaz asks him via a Home Swap website whether or not his house is free over the holidays, he jumps at the opportunity to escape the country and his family for the holidays.

He did not include Alex into the calculation - June's charming and gorgeous brother who suddenly appears at her doorstep.

Airplane Mode by clottedcreamfudge. E, 14k. Getting into an argument with someone in the airport lounge had probably been a mistake, in hindsight; Alex knows this. But with so many fucking delays and the fact that the signal on his phone is currently making it about as useful as two paper cups joined by a piece of string, he’s kind of on-edge. It’s not entirely his fault that he snaps.

Attractive people with perfect hair who take the last almond croissant before Alex can get to it probably just need to understand this. Alex is at the end of his tether, and he will not be swayed by, “Well, I was here first,” in a British accent so smooth it could butter bread.

Home for the Holidays by lucy_in_the_sky. E, 14k. “How would you feel about maybe spending Christmas in Texas with me and my family?” He bites his lip after popping the question.

Henry’s eyebrows shoot up. But before Alex can regret asking, a soft smile blossoms on his face.

“I want you there with me. I- I wanted you there this week, too-” Alex starts to ramble. “And, like, it’s totally ok if you want to go to England to be with your family, duh, but I’d love to show you Austin and introduce you to my family and teach you the Claremont-Diaz holiday traditions and kiss you on Christmas morning and-”

He’s cut off by the hard press of Henry’s lips against his own.

“Yeah?” Alex beams.

“Yes, love. Of course yes.”

Sweet Dreams of Holly and Ribbon by @villiageidiot. T, 14k. He falls asleep on the loveseat, Nora and June curled up on the couch across from him, as a terrible Hallmark Christmas film plays in the background. It’s the fourth night of sleeping alone—Henry taking care of some business back in the palace—and he’d rather wake up cold and cramped across from the two of them than alone in his own bed.

That’s how Alex falls asleep.

That is not how he wakes up.

A Fine Line by indomitablelove. E, 15k. Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Whatever is inescapable. In the worst way possible. He’s always fucking there. Alex turns up for his shift and Henry is there behind the coffee machine, apron tied around his waist and stupid, tight white T-shirt clinging to his biceps. Alex turns up for open-mic night at the cafe and there he is again, reading his fucking poetry. Alex goes to the grocery store, or the bookshop, or the fucking campus library, and who does he see? Henry. Always Henry.

Always Henry, always with a different guy.

Alex hates Henry. He's only letting Henry and his stupid long limbs and his overly symmetrical face stay on his couch because he has to, because 'tis the season not to be a massive dick, because it's Christmas. Isn't he? -also coffee shop/roommates

12 Days of Christmas with Alex and Henry series by @coffeecatsme. E, 16k. "It seems I've gotten myself in quite a tangle."

"Tangle?" Henry's voice is hoarse, eyes darkened as they travel over Alex's body. They stop at his crotch, and Alex can see it even under the dim lights—Henry's growing hard too, a visible bulge pushing at his sweatpants. Alex's cock gives a desperate twitch.

"Y'know, I was trying to put them around the tree," he starts, gesturing at the plain tree at the corner. It's clear he didn't even attempt to touch it. "And somehow I've managed to completely trap myself. Can't even move my hands." Henry makes a desperate noise at the back of his throat as his eyes snap up to Alex's face. Alex flashes him a suggestive grin, teeth biting down on his lip. "Seems I'm completely at your mercy."

(Dil)Do It Yourself by @happiness-of-the-pursuit. E, 16k. “Listen,” Nora starts, turning her body once more so that she’s sitting sideways in the chair with her legs thrown across the armrest. “I did the math. There’s a 79% chance you’re gonna become a slut to the power of the prostate, and while we’re not dating anymore, it’s my duty as your fellow slutty bisexual to get this party started.”

Or, when Nora drags Alex to a holiday dildo workshop, he doesn’t expect to find someone to use it with.

Spirit of the Season by @pridepages. M, 17k. Henry was dead to begin with. That much you must understand, or nothing that follows will seem strange or wondrous...

Alex Claremont-Diaz doesn't believe in ghosts. And he really hates Dickens.

But that's not going to stop a very unusual Christmas Spirit...

Henry Fox is on a mission. Once a year, he finds a soul in need of his help. (Too bad this one's such an utter berk.)

When two lost souls find each other on Christmas Eve, they may just find everything they never knew they wanted.

The Christmas Guest by @omgcmere. E, 17k. Alex is looking forward to a relaxing winter break catching up with his sister after her semester abroad, but June's gone and ruined everything by inviting her insufferable international student friend to stay with their family for a real American Christmas experience. Henry is irritatingly gorgeous with a completely obnoxious superiority complex, and Alex is prepared to hate every single second he's forced to spend in his presence. As Alex starts to get into the Christmas spirit, however, he finds that maybe there's more to Henry than meets the eye - and maybe, just maybe, this will actually be the best Christmas ever. - also college

Four Christmases by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf. E, 19k. From Washington to Austin, London to New York, Alex and Henry spend Christmas with different members of their families from 2020 - 2023. Funny couples' Christmas sweaters, festive swimsuits, statement-making ties, and family pajamas all bring lots of laughs, some tears, and a bit of fun to be had by all along the way.

A Year in the Life series by milowren. NR, 19k. Alex and Henry are coworkers, Henry has a crush, and they end up at a haunted corn maze together a few nights before Halloween. Shenanigans ensue! And - When Alex's flight home is canceled at the last minute, Henry invites him over for Thanksgiving - despite never having hosted an American Thanksgiving before.

and you would be there too by smc_27. M, 20k. It’s mostly dark out here, just the lamp poles in the parking lot casting a warm yellow glow across the packed snow.

“We’re closed.”

Henry spins around, heart racing, and sees the beautiful man from the café and from earlier at the shops. He cuts a stunning image, swinging one leg over the wooden fence rail and stepping into the parking lot as he pulls a red and black plaid shirt over his shoulders, his tan pants tight enough across his thighs to make Henry blush for noticing.

This Hell of a Season by Chamel. E, 21k. (Nova, Baby follow-up) “The first few years, it was a relief to get away from all the stupid family drama,” Alex says, blowing a long sigh. The hand that’s not holding Henry’s slides onto his stomach, a warm, comforting pressure. “Then I started to resent it. It hurt to be stuck out on a mission while everyone celebrated without me.”

“And now?”

A grin slips onto Alex’s face as he walks two fingers across Henry’s bare chest. “Now I have you.”

(Or, 3 times Alex & Henry spent Christmas on missions and 1 when they didn't; or, A Very Nova Christmas Special.

Love on the Menu by berrybluefae. M, 23k. Henry Fox has a side hustle at his job as a host in an upscale restaurant. He loves setting up romantic moments for guests who want a little something extra for their night out to dinner. A bouquet of flowers and a bottle of champagne for the couple celebrating their 50th anniversary? Easy. A special table with candles and a dessert with a surprise for the woman about to propose? Child’s play. But despite playing Cupid for the restaurant’s guests, Henry has never been on the receiving end of a grand romantic gesture. So imagine his surprised delight when anonymous gifts begin appearing just for him.

Who is Henry’s secret admirer? Only Valentine’s Day will tell.

You Make Every Day Feel Like It's Christmas by allmylovesatonce. T, 25k. Burned out on work, Alex goes to visit June who is on assignment in a sleepy Vermont town called Snow's Landing. June is determined for him to see where she's been living for the last six months and to love it as much as she does. The most intriguing part of it all is June's best friend there, a man named Henry, that Alex believed was a jerk at first but is starting to discover a new side of as they spend more time together.

Paper Chains by @myheartalivewrites. E, 25k.

DAY 751

(Alex)

Henry is… Well, if Alex is being honest, Henry is everything to him.

But it’s kinda hard to explain.

DAY 1

———

I have no idea how to summarise this one, folks. The best I can do is… Alex and Henry's journey from awkward beginning as colleagues, to best friends, to spending time apart and finally to finding each other again.

But it’s not as straightforward as that.

Every Day's a Holiday (When I'm Near to You) by bleedingballroomfloor. E, 29k. I know this is a long shot, but if anyone’s going to Texas/anywhere south for the holidays and is crazy enough to drive there instead of fly, I’m looking for a road trip buddy. We can split gas money and snacks if you pick good ones. DM me if you’re interested.

And Henry knows he's about the make the most idiotic decision he's ever made in his life.

Or, Henry impulsively tags along with Alex on a road trip to Texas with absolutely no plan. Surely this won't backfire.

in a holidaze by @tedddylupin. E, 49k. Alex didn't mean to spend his New Years Eve thrown together with a perfect stranger at an airport. He didn't mean to offer up to share his hotel room with a very attractive stranger. He also didn't mean to find the man insufferably perfect either.

Or: the one where Alex and Henry find each other during different holidays throughout a year's time.

When I think about you by @clottedcreamfudge. E, 50k. Dream sharing is absolutely not a thing, even though Alex would very much like it to be.

The magic of soulmates, however, means that someone you’ve never met – someone whose soul is tied to yours, in whatever way that manifests – can appear in your dreams, like an extra character who keeps popping up over and over again. They won’t be having the same dream as you, and you won’t actually meet, but whatever you remember from the dream can start to take shape in your waking hours; you can figure things out, bit by bit, dream by dream.

I only tag an author once per post, but I'm still figuring out firstprince author handles. If you see one I may not know or find a broken link, please give me a heads up!

Master List of RWRB FirstPrince Recs

Master List of Recommendations

#firstprince #rwrb fic recs #rwrb #alex x henry #red white & royal blue

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xsezzie · 7 months

Text

TickleTober Day 28 : Silence

Characters: Alhaitham x Kaveh

Warnings: Self-indulgent fluff

Pairing key: & = platonic, x = romantic!

I managed to finish it, kind of. This will be my last little fic for TickleTober. I’ll begin reposting them on AO3 and then prepare for Squealing Santa!

Outside was abuzz with the city of Sumeru celebrating Halloween.

Inside, it was the opposite.

Alhaitham had turned off all the lights in the home, intent on preventing anyone from knocking at the door.

This bothered Kaveh, he wanted to participate in giving out sweets, but he also couldn’t let anyone know where he lived. So he had to put up with sitting in silence, the only sounds were Alhaitham flipping a page in his book and the soft crackle of the candle within the lantern they had lit on the table.

There was also an urge to be close to the Scribe, this strange feeling eating away at the back of his mind. He didn’t want to go back to his room, he didn’t want to head into the study to work on designs, and he definitely didn’t want to cuddle up to Alhaitham right now. So don’t ask him how he ended up with his head on his shoulder.

“Hm? Here to be a nuisance?” The Scribe mumbled.

“Hmph.”

Alhaitham didn’t protest, or move. He allowed Kaveh’s head to nuzzle into his neck and his fidgeting as he tried to make himself comfortable.

Once Kaveh had found his position, legs draped over Alhaitham’s lap and his head in the crook of his neck, he was content.

The silence fell across the house again, Kaveh making a terrible attempt at trying to read along with the weird book that was written in some other language he vaguely remembers studying with Alhaitham. He soon finds himself idly prodding and caressing his abs.

“Kaveh…” Alhaitham warned.

“Alhaitham…”

The Scribe, however, made no attempt to stop him. Shivering a little as Kaveh gently ran his fingers over his stomach.

“Hmph…”

“Did you perhaps just lock us up in silence together so you could spend some quality time with me?”

“In your dreams.”

“Maybe we are dreaming.”

Alhaitham huffed and poked between the architect’s shoulder blades through his convenient open back window, causing him to jerk and squeak.

“H-Hey!”

“It’s only fair.”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“I’ll hit you with my book.”

“No you won’t.”

Alhaitham dug his index finger in between Kaveh’s shoulder blades again, making him giggle and squirm again more this time.

“Gaahh d-dohon’t!”

“Stop me then.”

“Shut up!”

The younger man continued to leave his finger in the one spot, almost massaging it as the blond squirmed in his lap but didn’t get up to move.

“The fact you won’t leave my lap proves you’re enjoying this as usual.”

“Pff- n-noho!” Kaveh hid his face in Alhaitham’s neck, flushed and trying to stop himself from giggling and squirming away from his partner’s touch. This damn spot on his back was too sensitive.

“Get any louder and someone will hear you~” The Scribe teased.

“S-Stahap tickling me thehehen!”

“I’m not tickling you though, I simply have my finger on your back.”

“It tickles!” The blond squeaked a little too loudly, immediately covering his mouth with his hands.

Alhaitham chuckles softly, “Well that’s not my problem.”

Kaveh squirms and kicks his legs softly as the Scribe continued, sending shivers through his body.

“Hmmmph!!! Aaahahaha stahap!”

“You’re being too loud.”

“Y-Your f-ahahault!”

“Is it? I’m not the one giggling and squeaking over here.”

The blond finally decided to take some action, seeing as Alhaitham’s right arm was preoccupied behind his back, he had the perfect opportunity to slide his hand under his arm and softly prod his armpit. The Scribe snorted.

“Was that a snort!?”

“N-No!”

“Do it again! That was adorable!”

“K-Kaveheheh!!”

“Look who’s being loud now~”

“If thihis is a fight you want… bring it ohohon!”

Alhaitham and Kaveh spent the rest of the night on their couch, trying to have a “silent” tickle fight. Occasionally stopping if they think they heard someone close to the door. This felt more tiring than if they were actually being loud and wrestling like they would usually do, and by the end of it, they fell asleep in each other's arms on the sofa, a soft smile on each of their faces.

#genshin impact tickling #tickling #kaveh #alhaitham #tickletober #miya&mia's tickletober

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riabef · 1 year

Text

✎. The snow guides me to you

SUMMARY: It’s not the easiest task for those to confess their love so easily; yet even in your absence all he can think about is you, so why not try anyways?

FEATURING CAST: Alhaitham!!! hehe secret Santa gift for @prawndip! hi hi this is for you <3

PRONOUNS: gender neutral reader!, second person perspective “You”

WORD COUNT: 1444 words

WARNINGS: i think this is pretty fluffy, just about him going from “I tolerate you I guess” to “oh I think I like you” less in than 2k words

AUTHOR NOTES: writing this never made me feel so single before not going to lie - Wasn’t sure if you celebrated Christmas so I just went with a general winter theme, but changes can be made ^^ just send me an ask and I’ll prepare something else! I know it probably doesn’t snow in Sumeru or like,,,, the rest of Teyvat except for Dragonspine and Snezhnaya but …. Listen it’s for the plot 😔

✉︎ Alhaitham

The first time he met you was under a glittering sheen of snow, the frosty flakes and the cold nipping at his skin. At the time both you and him were only children, exploring the world under your feet, too caught up in the enveloping curiosity you felt; from wandering the Grand Bazaar to the ends of the city where the forest began, it was all so enticing for children to explore.

Despite your curiosities, there would always be a slight difference between you two, and that was that Alhaitham, your childhood friend, was always prepared. On the other hand, you, unfortunately, were not. So when the snow fell from the sky, almost by instinct your head turned towards him as though he was your answer.

Amidst the gray clody skies, coloured in shades of fossil and silver, there stood two children. Just far enough from the city to tune out any merchant chatter, or the noise of the city slowly getting ready for the end of the day; endless footsteps echoed across the pavement. The two children stood, bantering, almost, most likely because of the falling snowflakes.

Capturing one with your hands, you admire it’s beauty, the shaped perfection that these crystals had were utterly breath-taking, of course, if it were not for the cold you wouldn’t have an issue. Unfortunately for you, your archon decided to spare no mercy for the unprepared as the temperatures dropped even lower.

“Does it look like I’m your saviour?” Adorable as he seemed, he looked almost fed up with your antics. In hindsight, he really was adorable, if you ignored the irritation in his voice, or the passive scoldings that he’d give you; with all things considered, he was a good friend. Despite bantering with you from time to time, you truly care for him. And fortunately, that was reciprocated.

“Yes it does actually,” placing a mocking hand on your forehead as you clutched your heart, ready to give a performance that would just shy of opera standards, “my one and only friend. We’ve been through so much in our brief lives, and you’ve always been the one guiding me, the light in the dark-”

“So you’ve forgotten your gloves again?”

“Once again, you are right my dear Watson! Your deduction skills are simply extraordinary!” nodding your head solemnly as though you weren’t talking about your forgotten gloves. You continued, “However, it isn’t as it seems, although it appears as though I’ve misplaced them, or dare I say, forget them. They are here, in my pocket!”

All that fell out of your pockets were marbles.

“While you were having your little soliloquy, I thought it’d be better that at least one of us brings an extra pair,” he sighed, and for a moment you let yourself misleadingly think that maybe he isn’t so bad, perhaps he did have a soft spot for you all along, “of course, to compensate for the other’s forgetfulness.”

“Sometimes I forget how much of a jerk you are.”

“The feeling’s mutual.” He promptly throws a pair of gloves without any warning, and you let your hands tread across the material very carefully as though it were a prized heirloom. Surprisingly, the glove fit almost as if tailored, and the material was incredibly soft against your skin.

Maybe you wouldn’t be wrong in assuming he cared about you a little more than he let on.

The next time you meet, the both of you are fervent researchers of the Akademiya, eagerly searching for all the answers that didn’t exist, and trying to gain an understanding of the environment around you. Although, Alhaitham supposes that you’ve taken the latter part of that statement a little too seriously as you tried gathering samples of even the flowers around Sumeru City, much less the snow.

Perhaps in a last-ditch effort of finding a perfect thesis, your mind could only find one solution.

As typical years of Akademiya alumni would describe, the arduous process of creating your thesis begins, however it began with searching for the perfect topic. Ideally one that no one had previous research on

Crouching while trying to stuff some random moss from the pavement, you carefully select your words before voicing them aloud, “Hey Alhaitham-”

“It’s a bad idea.” Flabbergasted, you whipped your head to look at him in disbelief.

“But I didn’t even speak?!”

He sighed, as if expecting the answer, “I’m not wrong though.”

“Anyways, what if I made my thesis about how good snow tasted?”

“That’d be wonderful, you could even make up another culinary darshan.”

You scoffed, resisting the urge to curse him out further in favour of gathering snow to make into a snowball, juggling it between your two hands as if contemplating your further decision.

Taking notice of this, “If you eat that, I won’t be liable for any physical illnesses you go through.”

“You say that as if you were planning to take care of me in the first place?”

He remains silent.

Although he cherished your smile, and especially your laughter (fuzzy feelings swirl around in his mind, for reasons unknown) he do has to admit that your especially low view of him does hurt him quite a bit. Regardless, he’s content remaining as is. The silent friend who shows up once a blue moon to show they actually care for you, the one who’s been waiting for you to take notice of his feelings, and waiting even longer to accept that maybe he didn’t just tolerate you.

Although unlikely, it’s possible that he’s taken a liking towards you.

The next time he sees you, he’s more than conclusive about his own matters, unable to deny it any longer, all that’s left is to accept his growing feelings for you. Especially with the way that you always seemed to meet him with the change of seasons. Like anyone else, he has his own secret to keep; and his seemed to be that he looked forward to winter for the chance to see you.

As busy students in the Akademiya, it’s not odd that you two find it difficult to share time together outside of the occasional glances shared in the halls with the occasional nods of acknowledgement. Despite this, the saying does go, “the heart grows fonder with absence” and that proved true with Alhaitham.

How ironic was it that someone who vehemently rejected human emotions felt one of the most strongest known feelings?

There was a moment in time where all he could do was spare a glance at you in the library, or the halls. Even if all he could do was spare a few of his thoughts for you, it didn’t help him get over this crush; almost akin to a poet’s longing glances towards their muse, drawn to the inspiration the other offers. It was almost laughable how his thoughts were easily drawn to you the moment the moon rose, when all was quiet in the city, when the lanterns were lit and the citizens drawn into a slumber.

Or perhaps the way his mind would drift to you even while the sun was high up in the sky, when the breeze felt a little too quiet, and the space beside him was unoccupied.

Time passed as endless and unchanging as ever, no compromises to be made, or any hesitation. Just like the grains of sand trickling down the glass, counting down to when he could see you again. Not like it could tell an exact date, but it helped pass the lonesome hours by. The endless feeling of work was a routine he took a liking to; although he found that including you in that routine was something he yearned to do.

It was then that he understood what he needed to do.

Only a letter was left on your desk with elegant writing, the name of the sender and everything was all left out as though it was of no importance; only requesting your presence at midnight at the “place where memories were”.

While you waited in the dark, the snow began to fall from the sky like it had all those years ago, except this time he was not the boy he once was, and you were not the child you once were either. With a smile you only knew that there could only be one person who called your attention like this, and it was him.

If it were anyone else you would’ve been displeased at the simple conversation, but because it was him, Alhaitham, your heart soared above the clouds, yet to reach the ground.

“I think I love you.”

“Think?”

“I apologize, I know.”

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togrowoldinv · 2 years

Text

Snowed Inn Christmas

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

You and Natasha are given a special writing assignment at Christmas. You are brought together after being stranded in Indiana and the fight to save the town inn.

Note: This is based on the Lifetime movie of the same title 😌 it’s super cheesy but I loved writing it. Enjoy!

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist

Today is the day. You wake up early to make coffee and breakfast for yourself. You almost make it through the morning without thinking of her, but the picture of your ex-girlfriend on your bookshelf reminds you of how she broke your heart a month ago.

Things haven’t gone the best lately in your personal life, but you’re up for a major assignment at work today. You think this could change the course of the end of your year for the best.

When you get to work, you enter the conference room for a meeting with your boss, Carol, and your colleagues. As always, the seat next to you is empty until ten minutes into the meeting. That’s when your work rival, Natasha Romanoff, enters the room and settles next to you.

“I’m sure there’s a good excuse for you being late?” Carol asks Nat.

“Yeah, I was helping an old lady cross the street,” Natasha flat-out lies with her signature smirk. You shake your head, but Carol doesn’t miss a beat.

“Okay, so unfortunately, this holiday season will be one that requires everyone to work extremely hard. Our jobs depend on it,” Carol explains.

“I’m sorry. Could you explain? Will there be layoffs?” you speak up for the group.

“I hate to tell you all right at the holidays, but yes,” Carol says. And she does sound apologetic.

“Who got the Aspen assignment?” Natasha blurts out. Of course she’s worried about herself right now, you think.

“You did,” Carol answers.

“Yes!”

“What?” you both reply at the same time.

“And you did as well, y/n.”

“I’m sorry, both of us are on the assignment?” Natasha asks for clarification.

“That’s right. I want you both to write an article and whoever brings the most traffic to our website will be my head writer next year. You’re my two top writers. I’m sure you can handle this assignment,” Carol explains.

“Sure can,” Nat says. You nod, but not happily.

After the meeting, you go to Carol’s office.

“I have to go to Aspen with her? Seriously?” you complain to her. She is your boss, but also your friend.

“Yes, y/n. I need your skills on this. Plus, maybe you’ll meet someone in Aspen. You need a distraction from Wanda,” Carol says.

“I guess you’re right.”

“I am right. Now go on, you don’t want to miss your flight,” Carol says. “Have fun!”

“I’ll try,” you say noncommittally as you leave her office.

You’ve loaded the plane and are sitting in your seat when Natasha finally arrives next to you. She stands in the aisle and puts her bag in the overhead bin.

“Did you seriously just now board the plane when it takes off in five minutes?” you ask her.

“Yep. I got distracted by a cute girl at the gift shop. She convinced me to share my candy with her,” Natasha says with a smile.

You roll your eyes at her. That makes her smirk even more.

A young girl stops by your seat with a candy bar in her hand, “Thank you for sharing with me, ma’am,” she speaks to Nat.

“Anytime,” she replies. And once the girl walks away, she adds, “See I told you she was cute.”

You sigh and prepare for a long flight with Natasha by your side. But it’s not long before the pilot comes over the speaker and says that the plane will have to land due to snowy conditions near your destination.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” you mumble.

“I guess we’re going to Indiana now,” Nat says, none too pleased herself.

You unload the plane to see that all flights out are canceled. It’s not until you meet a white-haired woman that you even have a chance at finding somewhere to stay. The woman and her husband run a bed and breakfast in Santa Claus, Indiana, and they offer to let you and Natasha stay there.

When you get there, the inn is beautifully decorated and seems almost magical.

“So, we do have the mistletoe sweet open,” the woman explains.

“Oh no, we’re not-” you begin.

“Nope,” Natasha agrees.

“Oh, our mistake. We have two rooms next to each other then.”

“Thank you,” you say.

You get settled into your room and try to think of a story to tell here. Sure, it’s not the original assignment, but Carol instructed you to make the most of it. While in your room, the walls are thin, and you hear Natasha talking to someone on the phone. You don’t catch much, just that someone is asking her to come home for Christmas.

The next morning you learn that the inn is at risk of closing if the original deed to the land isn’t found. You talk to the owners, and they seemingly tell you that Saint Nick created the inn. Natasha laughs it off, but the clues lead you to believe it could possibly be true. It sparks inspiration for your article.

Later that night, you leave your room after feeling restless. Natasha does the same, and you run into each other in the kitchen.

“How’s your article going?” Natasha asks. Her openness shocks you, but you decide to accept the olive branch.

“It’s coming together,” you say. “How’s yours?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she responds. You narrow your eyes at her, and she laughs. “I haven’t started it.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” you say. “I’m so hungry,” you admit as you look around the kitchen.

“Want me to make you something?”

“Really?” you ask, not being able to hide a smile.

And so, Natasha starts making cookies. She seems almost an expert at it as she mixes the ingredients, and you help her shape the dough and put them in the oven.

“So, you’re pretty good at that,” you comment as they bake.

“I have practice. My little sister loved making cookies growing up, so I would get up in the middle of the night with her and make them,” Natasha explains.

“That’s sweet. I never really had a family to celebrate the holidays with,” you find yourself opening up to her.

“I’m sorry,” Nat says.

“I was going to have it with Wanda this year, but she ended things,” you say.

“Love sucks sometimes. It’s kind of terrifying, isn’t it?”

“Like swimming with sharks?” you ask. Her eyes go wide at you referencing an article she had written about swimming with sharks in the gulf.

“Yeah. I write about what I’m scared of. It helps me face my fears in some way,” Nat explains. “How about that article you wrote about the lions?”

“That one was so long ago. Wow, I can’t believe you read that one,” you say, very shocked at her actions.

“I read all of your articles, y/n. You’re an amazing writer,” she says.

“I thought I was kind of invisible.”

“I noticed you the moment you walked into the office,” Natasha says. She is closer to you now, practically only a few inches from her lips touching yours.

You wonder if she realizes the weight of what she just said. You don’t know how to respond, and luckily you don’t have to as the oven dings. Natasha moves from her spot close to you to take the cookies out of the oven.

You eat the cookies together, and light conversation continues until you both decide to go to sleep.

“I’m glad we can talk like this,” you say.

“Yeah, who would’ve thought we’d be friends,” she says. Your brain sticks on that last word.

“Friends,” you mumble.

“Well, isn’t that what we are?”

“I’m going to bed,” you say.

“What? Y/n, wait!” Nat calls after you, but it’s no good. You’re already up the stairs, kicking yourself for falling for her so fast. Nat stands there wondering what went wrong.

The next morning comes, and you are trying to avoid Natasha when she corners you.

“Come with me?” she asks, car keys in hand.

“Where?”

“You’ll see,” is her only response.

Figuring it might be for the article assignment, you get in the car with her. She drives for almost an hour before she breaks the silence.

“We’re going to see my family,” she says.

“Your family lives in Indiana?”

“Close. Ohio. I haven’t seen them in a while, but you got me thinking about my family. And I just figured it would be easier to see them with someone I cared about,” Natasha explains.

“A friend?”

“Something more than that, I think,” Natasha says.

You’re speechless as you ride the rest of the way to Natasha’s family. The house is in a suburb in middle of nowhere Ohio. You wonder what Nat’s family will be like, and you suddenly feel nervous to meet them. Still, you get out of the car first, and Nat follows after taking a few grounding breaths.

“Natasha!” a woman, her mother you presume, pulls her into a hug immediately.

“Hi Mama,” Nat says.

A blonde girl comes to her next and Nat actually looks like she wants to hug her.

“I missed you, sestra,” the girl says into Nat’s shoulder. She replies in what sounds like Russian.

“Oh, and hello! I’m Melina,” Nat’s mom greets you.

“I’m y/n.”

“Great choice, Natasha,” the blonde girl says.

“Yelena, we just work together is all,” Nat explains, and then turns to you. “This is my little sister Yelena.”

“Nice to meet you,” you greet her.

You follow Natasha into the kitchen where her family has cooked a meal and she pours you a glass of wine.

“My dad will be here later. He likes to think he’s the Russian Santa,” Natasha says with a smile.

“An attractive Santa,” Melina says. Both girls make disgusted faces, and their mother only smiles.

You fall into conversation with Natasha’s family, and even when her dad shows up in a Santa suit to greet his grown children, you laugh along with them. It’s the best experience with a family you’ve ever had. It makes you long for more.

When the night comes to an end, Melina, Yelena, and Alexei hug you as you leave with Natasha. She spends the whole drive home telling you about her family. You hang onto every word.

When you get back to the inn, you are surprised to see your ex-girlfriend Wanda standing at the door waiting for you. Natasha brushes past her and goes inside.

“Wanda, what are you doing here?” you ask her.

“We played this wrong, y/n. We have to spend the holidays together,” Wanda says. Her tone of voice, as always, wrongly convinces you that she cares for you. “I got us a hotel. Get your stuff, okay?”

“Oh, okay. Yeah, just give me a minute,” you say. She nods. You go inside and find Natasha already in her room. You decide not to knock.

You gather your things. You never finished your article or found the deed to save the inn, but you figure it’ll take a miracle now for that to happen. As you leave, you think twice about not saying bye to Nat, but Wanda is waiting, so you keep walking.

The next morning Wanda is rushing you to the airport to get home for the holiday. You are feeling upset about not finishing your article, and you wonder how Natasha’s is coming along.

Your phone rings, and it’s Carol. You answer it in fear of her asking for your article.

“It’s amazing, y/n!” Carol says.

“What?” you ask her.

“The article. I can’t believe you and Natasha fell in love and saved the inn. You will both be promoted in the new year. Just amazing!”

“Oh, thank you,” you go along with it.

When you hang up the phone, you get on your phone and see the article.

How Two Writers Saved a Historical Inn and Fell in Love

By: Y/n Y/l/n and Natasha Romanoff

“She found the deed! The inn is saved. And she loves me?” you wonder aloud.

“That’s great. We have a plane to catch, sweetheart,” Wanda replies unenthusiastically.

“What’s your favorite article that I’ve written?” you confront her.

“Oh. I love everything you write.”

“You don’t even read them, do you? You know what Wanda, you go ahead. This isn’t going to work anymore. Like you said, we’re too different,” you say. It’s her turn to stand there confused as you walk away from her.

In Ohio, Natasha sits with her family around the table.

“It’s my fault for not telling her sooner,” she says.

“But you just let her go with that woman?” Yelena shakes her head.

“It’s okay. We’re friends at least,” Nat says, mostly to herself.

Just then the doorbell rings and Natasha goes to answer it. She figures it’s carolers, so she is shocked to see you standing there.

“I read the article,” you say.

“And what did you think?”

“I love you too, Natasha,” you say with a smile.

She wastes no time walking towards you and pulling you in for a long, sweet kiss. You can’t believe how amazing it feels to love her and to be with her.

“I love you, y/n,” Natasha says, breaking for air. It sounds so good coming from her.

“Merry Christmas, baby.”

“Merry Christmas, detka,” she mirrors your sentiment, kissing you once again.

And you two are meant to live happily ever after.

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#natasha romanoff x reader #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff #merry christmas!

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tenpintsof-sundrop · 6 months

Note

I’ll leave whether or not this is a request up to you. I just want to share the idea of Christmas season with JayGar. Making cookies with them, putting together a gingerbread house too. Kissing under mistletoe. Decorating the tree, just the place in general. Maybe it snows. Gar insists on making snow people and there’s a snowball fight. Watching them roll around in the snow, play-fighting. Going inside after and making hot cocoa. It’d be so sweet, cozy, fun, and loving and I’m soft for it right now. -Rotten Anon

okay, this makes me feral and foaming at the mouth. I am so deeply upset that Jason was not at the Titans Christmas in Season 4 because it's supposed to take place in Gotham at Wayne Manor if I'm correct? and like I understand that Jason was still kind of on the outs with the Titans, but Gar would have wanted him there, and Jason coming to Christmas dinner or something would have been a great step in mending the relationships. grrr

anyway! Christmas with JayGar. omg. consider this my headcanons post because I can't help myself

Christmas With Jason Todd and Gar Logan

(These headcanons operate under the idea that they are in a poly relationship with the reader, or they are flirtatious/sexual and forming that kind of poly relationship.) (This also kind of accidentally turned into Christmas headcanons about the Titans in general.) (Also, this is mostly fluff and there is some mild sexual themes, because I can't help myself when it comes to JayGar.)

So, first of all, I definitely feel like Christmas at Titans Tower would be so different from a family Christmas - like, spending Christmas with Jason and Gar once the three of you have moved out to start a family and 'settle down' or when everyone has come home to a place like Wayne Manor for a traditional family Christmas. Living with Jason and Gar in your own place would be a lot more like you mentioned, but I am thinking about more of the S2 era (I love that era so much.) But I could definitely make another post about like - post No Place Like Home Christmas with JayGar.

Christmas at Titans Tower - I am imagining a situation where they lived at the Tower for longer before Rose showed up (and then Deathstroke tried to kill everyone) and they had Christmas during that time. OR during the time they continued living at the Tower before Gotham, they had Christmas (and Jason is still there because I said so). It would be wonderful chaos.

Dick would not even have the idea to decorate or really celebrate Christmas in any way until Rachel or Gar bring it up. The original Titans did celebrate Christmas, but it was 90% Dawn's doing. (In the show, we saw how she turned Hank's sad, single guy apartment into a really femme, well decorated place. And it is of my opinion that she planned Garth's birthday party by herself. She would demand Christmas decorations.) And because Dawn wanted extensive Christmas decorations, Dick funded it (with his daddy's credit card) because he would do anything to please her.

So back then, the original Titans had a huge, lavish Christmas tree, they had all kinds of extensive decorations for the main lounge area - Dawn bought everyone ugly Christmas sweaters and Christmas pajamas and made everybody wear them. And they definitely did a Secret Santa where everyone picked a name and only bought one gift, but it was soooo easy to tell who bought which gift.

So when Rachel starts asking Dick 'what are we gonna do for Christmas?' - Dick's first thought is: nothing. Kory and Conner are curious about what Christmas is - it's actually funny trying to explain to them how a holiday that is technically rooted in religion is actually practised by a lot of non-religious people, and most of the traditions have nothing to do with Christianity.

Gar is excited to do something for Christmas. When he was living at Caulder House, they used to have a big family Christmas - mostly because nobody left the house and it was something to do. His parents weren't super religious when he was growing up, so he never had super traditional Christmas celebrations when he was living on the nature reserve - Rita and the others were the first ones to introduce him to a lot of Christmas elements and classic Christmas films, and he has loved it ever since.

Gar loves the idea of a time when you give to others selflessly and when simply being kind is a unique magic of its own. So of course he's eager to celebrate Christmas with the Titans.

You're kind of indifferent to it all - you can get into Christmas, but you can go without it.

And on the other hand, Jason hates Christmas.

Yeah - genuinely, it's of my opinion that Jason from Season 1/Season 2 (and probably Season 3) would fucking despise the concept of Christmas. (An evolved, post No Place Like Home Jason would love Christmas, but we'll talk about that later.)

So - Jason hates Christmas. And it's one of those things that, much like everything else in his life, can be attributed to his upbringing. Sometimes Rachel makes jokes that Jason blames everything on 'foster kid bullshit' but - it's true. Because everything in his life can be blamed on his shitty childhood. When you grow up poor like he did, there is no Christmas magic. He was the kid in school who was telling everyone else that Santa Claus does not exist, because he was bitter and angry that Santa never brought him any presents, and he realized very early on that it was just a made-up story. So he forced that bitterness about his own situation onto other people.

Did he start liking Christmas after he moved in with Bruce? Fuck no.

Having Christmas with a billionaire only made things more awkward for Jason. Especially because Alfred is the one with Christmas spirit, and not Bruce. Bruce grew up half Catholic and half Jewish due to his parents faith, so before they died, he several years observing Jewish holidays and having a huge blow-out Christmas with a lot of Christmas magic, and after they died - he became stoic.

(Note: I am talking about the Titans version of Bruce here.)

He mostly observes the holidays by silently donating to charity, sometimes going to church to say prayers and reflect, and privately lighting a menorah and saying the prayers that go along with it to honor his parents - something that he has never invited Dick or Jason to participate in. Alfred always makes a big, traditional Christmas dinner and decorates the Manor, and he is the one who prompts the exchange of gifts - and Jason fucking hates this.

Jason doesn't have an income of his own, and he hates shopping for gifts with someone else's credit card, and he always feel awkward as fuck receiving generic, expensive gifts from Bruce (like an Xbox or an iPhone) while giving him something like a tie or cuff links that Alfred picked out - that Bruce knows were bought with his own money, that doesn't even garner much of a react beyond a polite, mandatory 'thank you'. In Jason's opinion, one of the only hell's worst than spending Christmas starving, cold, and penniless is spending it in one of the large, opulent, over-decorated rooms of the Manor sitting with Bruce in stony silence while the man sips tea and makes stiff faces at the gift Jason's gives him.

So Jason doesn't expect Christmas at the Tower to be much different. He's not looking forward to it, and generally, wants to avoid it.

But he has no such luck.

Dick is randomly on the phone with Dawn one night (Dawn and Hank are trying to do the farm thing again - they're not taking care of horses, but they are living out in the country in the middle of nowhere, because they have come to like the seclusion), and he mentions that Rachel brought up Christmas, and this sets off every neuron in Dawn's brain. She asks Dick what he's gonna do for Christmas and he says 'I don't know'. Within hours, Dawn has dragged Hank to a Christmas tree farm, picked out the biggest tree possible, and has it strapped to the top of their truck, driving in to San Francisco.

If Rachel wants Christmas, she's going to get Christmas.

When you get up and find Dawn decorating (she dug out the Titans' old decorations, and Dick and Hank are struggling to get the tree out of the elevator) - you are excited. You rush to get the others out of bed, and immediately - Jason starts complaining. He says Christmas is stupid - he's one of those people who feels the need to point out that Jesus was actually born in the summer, and that it's a holiday 'actually made my companies just to sell you more crap'.

But when Dawn says that she needs help bringing out more of the boxes of decorations and Gar asks Jason to come and help, whipped as he is, Jason sighs and rolls his eyes, and he goes to help.

Decorating is certainly an adventure. Everyone is tripping over each other, Dawn wants the tree moved to different locations in the lounge three different times and it's only on the third try that Dick and Hank remember that Conner has super strength and he should be the one doing most of the heavy lifting.

At one point, you're up on a ladder hanging garlands and you stupidly ask Jason to 'give you a hand' - thinking that he'll hold the other end of the garland while you secure it or that he'll hand you another tack, but instead, he walks up behind you where you're standing on the ladder, very firmly and confidently puts his whole hand on your ass and says 'better?'

Gar makes everyone hot chocolate to help the decorating process along, and Jason says that the holiday is 'slightly less stupid' because he thinks the hot chocolate tastes really good.

Once all the decorations from the boxes have been put up, Rachel gets the idea that everyone should make their own custom ornament to put on the tree, and her and Dawn rush out to buy supplies for this, and while everyone is gathered around the kitchen island participating in this crafting session - it is the most genuine family moment that you have ever felt with the Titans. Everyone decorates a simple, flat piece of wood with glitter or paint to put on the tree - Gar decorated his with a green tiger wearing a Santa hat, and Jason made his a depiction of Santa Claus crashing his slay and dying - which you thought was funny and put on a central position on the three.

Gar even got the idea to put Krypto's paw in paint and stamp an ornament with his paw print so he could have one too.

(Okay, this is getting really long and rambly, so here, some quick fire hcs.)

Once Jason figures out that he can use mistletoe as an excuse to kiss people, he is infuriating about it. He will carry it around and dangle it over your head and Gar's head - you will just sigh and smack him, and Gar will blush so hard. Sometime's Gar will give Jason a kiss on the cheek if no one is looking (usually, Jason will respond to this by dodging and stealing a kiss on Gar's mouth) - and rarely, you will actually give in and kiss Jason on the lips if no one else is around.

At one point, Jason even tapes the mistletoe to his bellybutton as a 'joke' - to make you kiss his cock. (It definitely doesn't work. Ya know.)

Gar loves Christmas carols and Christmas music, and he will always play them and sing them at the top of his lungs - Jason pretends to be annoyed by it, but you have caught him singing along under his breath or mouthing the words, or even dancing a little when he thinks nobody is paying attention. But you know the annoyance is kind of real during the 5th round of Jingle Bell Rock. Gar can't help it though.

Gar is a vegan, and Jason will claim it's because he's bored - but he spends one afternoon cooking up vegan versions of several Christmas classics, like Christmas sugar cookies, and a full Christmas spread (with substitute meats that you guys both can't decide are creepy or cool) - and when Gar sees everything, he has some tears of joy in his eyes at the pure consideration of it. Turns out, Jason is actually an amazing cook. (Dick and Rachel are particularly surprised by this development.)

One night, the three of you sit down and watch a bunch of Christmas movies together. Jason finds Home Alone to be hilarious because Kevin is so brutal (and naturally, Jason is reminded of himself), and he spends most of the film commenting on how stupid the criminals are. When you watch The Grinch, Gar cries at the scene where the Grinch is bullied in school and you and Jason have to comfort him about it.

At one point, you buy you, Gar, and Jason matching ugly Christmas sweaters and Jason is adamant that he will not wear it. You are disappointed, but you put on yours anyway, and soon you hear some mumbling between Gar and Jason, including a 'please' and some grumbling on Jason's part - they come back twenty minutes later. Jason is wearing his sweater, looking stone-faced and grumpy about it, and Gar is looking entirely pleased with himself. You have no clue if sexual favours were exchanged, but when Gar moves to put a Santa hat on Jason, the effort he makes to fight Gar off about it is so lackluster.

When Dawn takes a picture of the three of you in your sweaters together, Jason flips her off - and it's one of your favourite pictures of all time.

(I could easily go on like this forever, but I'll leave it there for now.)

#sundrop answers #rotten anon #anonymous #jaygar x reader #jason todd x reader #gar logan x reader #dc titans #titans #dc titans fanfiction #titans x reader

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inconsistentwriting · 6 months

Text

In between breaths

Notes: This was written with my OC in mind, but I tried to keep it as neutral as possible. GN! Reader x SingleDad! Ghost. “Mom” used as a role, not a gender thing. Kinda rushed end because Writer's Block was about to hit me. I put SMYL's "You knew it was me" EP and let my mind go wild.

I had met Simon Riley when we were children. A fateful Christmas, I had traveled with my family to enjoy the holidays in my uncle’s place. I was 12 years old, and it was my first Christmas knowing Santa wasn’t real. In hindsight, I’m glad I knew. If I hadn’t maybe Simon and I wouldn’t have become as close as we did. Midnight had arrives and the fireworks were roaring. I stood in the middle of the field behind my uncle’s yard until I saw a boy standing not too far. He was watching the fireworks, but he had a sad expression on his face. I decided to approach him to ask him why he was sad. That boy, I later learned, was named Simon and he was 8 years old. He explained to me that Santa hadn’t arrived in his home. I’ll never get over what I did, I can’t even remember how exactly it happened, but I put on a face, as if I was deep in thought. After a second I raised a finger, declaring: “Santa didn’t forget about you, he just got confused with the address. I was wondering whose the extra presents under my tree were for. Wait right here, I’ll go bring them for you”. I’ll never stop being grateful to my quick-wit. A teddy bear and a football, part of my presents which I just gave up for the younger boy to have. A teddy bear and a football changed the entire trajectory of my life.

Now, I’m 26 years old and I am in college, studying medicine. Simon and I remained friends throughout of childhood and teenage years. For more than a decade, we were there for each other. I helped him deal with his pain in a healthier way, to open up, even if only a little. We were very close until I had to move away for college. Now it’s been three years since we last saw each other. My studies kept me away for too long and my mental health was begging me for a break, so I decided to spend the summer back at home, and maybe, just maybe, see Simon once again. I wondered how he must have been all these years. He would be 22, and a half, as he always felt the need to remark. I wondered if he had found a partner, a job, something to study. What had been of him all these years?

Whatever I had hoped to find surely wasn’t anything like the scene before me. After arriving to our town, I saw Simon’s mom running errands in the market, pushing a baby stroller. I approached to say hello and catch up, and she introduced me to the little boy on the stroller. His name was Ken, and he was Simon’s son. The little boy was holding the same teddy bear I had given Simon 14 years before. I guess my shock must have been very apparent because she rushed to explain. Turns out, during a one night stand, Simon’s protection broke, resulting in the sleeping toddler on the carriage. She explained that his mother didn’t want to be involved in his life, so she left, and that Simon had been raising him on his own. Simon’s mom helped whenever she could, but with her other son in rehab, it had become very hard for her. The story broke my heart, not only because of the idea of his mother abandoning the little ray of sun that slept peacefully in his stroller, but the idea of Simon, who I know had no idea of how to be a father, doing it all on his own.

The moment I could finally catch Simon and speak with him, it seemed as if those three years apart meant nothing, as if no time had passed between us. I asked why he never told me, why he never asked me for help. He said the obvious excuse, “You were busy with school”, “I didn’t want to worry you”, etc. He introduced me to Ken and I decided to take a semester off to help him a little with the day to day, to see if I could help him grow confident in his parenting. By accident, I found out, Simon had ended up spoiling his son a little. The little boy had no idea how to regulate his emotions and Simon was definitely not a great example. Si wasn’t abusive at all, that’s the only thing he knew, never to put his hands on his kid, like his father had done; but he had no idea on how to properly calm down a child. It took time and patience, but with time I was able to see the growth of both Simon and Ken.

One day, after a long day at work, Simon had arrived home tired and stressed. He entered the kitchen, where I was, keeping an eye on dinner. Ken was peacefully sleeping on my arms; poor angel was exhausted after a long day. My best friend made his way towards me and pressed his forehead against my shoulder.

-Rough day today, huh?

-Terrible one.

-I think I know of something that’ll cheer you up a bit.

I pointed at the kitchen table, where a sheet of paper laid, surrounded by crayons. The paper said “My Hero” and under it was a drawing of Simon holding Ken. When Simon grabbed it, a tired smile crept up to his lips before he turned around to plant a kiss on the little sleeping toddler on my arms.

-He also did his homework before I even told him anything.

-Homework? He is barely three.

-His homework is drawing with crayons, not calculus, Si. It’s only so he can learn the habit and it’s easier for him to keep it going when he grows up.

I giggled, shaking my head. I saw his open arms, silently asking me to hold his kid. I handed him the sleeping child, who tossed a little as I did.

-Why was he sleeping on your arms?

-Poor baby was tired, but he wanted to stay with me, so I offered holding him. When he fell asleep, I tried to put him down on his bed, but he’d always wake up fuzzy about it.

-He really loves being around you. He got that from me.

-I suppose he did.

Simon sat down on one of the chairs around the kitchen table, hugging his son and feeling the tension and stress of the day melt off.

-Coming home to you two feels like a dream. Your presence and Ken’s hugs make a shitty day really feel like nothing more than a bad dream. Your presence really helped us. It helped me. Thank you.

-I want to be able to be here for you, Si. Not only now, but every time. You are one of the most important people to me, and I would’ve loved to be here since the start.

-I’m sorry I never told you.

-I understand why you did it, though.

The evening passed by, Ken woke up and started to talk to his father about his day, Simon shared the sweet moment with his child and I finished making dinner. We all sat down to eat, we talked and laughed, and by the end, as he cleaned his mouth with a napkin, Ken said in that bubbly voice of his

-Thank you mama.

Simon and I were shocked. He almost choked on the drink on his glass, and I almost dropped the plates I had gathered. Simon was the first to come out of our shock.

-What did you say, buddy?

-Thank you mama.

In his innocence, Ken hadn’t notice the confusion and shock in his father’s voice. I didn’t want the boy to think he did something wrong, so I quickly answered

-You are welcomed, Kenny.

Simon and I both tried to keep our cool. We cleaned up the dishes, tidied up and took Ken to bed. We tucked him in like we always did and then Simon dared to ask the toddler.

-Hey little man, I need to ask you something. Why did you call them mama earlier?

-Because they are mama shaped. They are nice and good and care for me. Like a mama.

I could barely contain the tears building up on the corners of my eyes. The little baby boy I had come to love as my own also considered me as his own. I was speechless. I could only hug him a little tighter and kiss his chubby little cheeks before saying goodnight. After we put the boy down to sleep, Simon and I sat down to talk about what had happened. Before he could even get a world in, I decided to talk.

-If you don’t feel comfortable with Kenny calling me mama, I’ll talk to him about it. I’ll let him know I’m only your friend and everything, It’s okay-

Before I could continue rambling, Simon grabbed my face between his hands.

-Stop, stop. Quit overthinking for a second and listen.

I locked my gaze with those beautiful big brown eyes of his, instantly stopping to listen to him.

-Look… I noticed the tears that built up on your eyes when Ken called you like that. I know you, and I know how much this means to you. And honestly? It means a lot for me too. My son sees you as his mama, and I’d give anything for this beautiful relationship between you two to keep this pureness. In his eyes and in mine, you are the only mama he’s ever known. If you feel comfortable with him calling you that way, I would be so happy…

I couldn’t help myself. I could only interrupt him with a hug, pulling him so close to my body, as if afraid he might change his mind if I let go.

-I’d love to. I want to be here for both of you. You are so important to me; I can’t imagine a life without both of you in it. I want to keep being Kenny’s mama. I want to take care of him, to love him and to love you.

The last few words came out as a surprise to both of us. I hoped he hadn’t heard or that he’d think nothing of it, but as he pulled me away to look into my eyes, I could see the shock on his eyes.

-You mean that? You actually feel like that? I’m not dreaming, am I?

Sheepishly, I nodded. I couldn’t let the words out, but there was no turning back now. I wanted to look up, to see his reaction, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. What if he changed his mind about me being around his son? What if I just fucked up our friendship? What if…? Before my mind could go any further down the rabbit hole, his fingers found my chin, making me look up into his eyes.

-You really love me? Despite having seen the ugly side of me? Despite how hard I was all throughout our teenage years? Despite the fact I made myself unreachable for three years because I was ashamed of not knowing what the hell I was doing? You love me?

His voice carried the disbelief I knew he always held when someone showed him love like this. He thought himself undeserving, and it crushed my soul. I thought to myself, “What the hell, he already knows, might as well show him how serious I am”, before leaning in and kissing his lips. I wanted to leave no doubt on his mind. I wanted him to understand. To my surprise, he pulled me closer, kissing me back as I melted in his embrace. After a couple of seconds, we pulled away from each other to look into the other’s eyes. We didn’t have to say much, guided by the feeling of each other’s arms, lips, smiles. It flowed like natural, it felt correct, and any doubt dissipated between kisses and I love you’s. We just cuddled on the couch, feeling the weight lifting from our shoulders, as we hugged, kissed, talked and laughed.

I was glad he didn’t have to work in the morning, because neither of us wanted to let go…

#gn reader #cod x reader #cod mw x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod fluff #call of duty fanfiction #call of duty x reader

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