#big no on sweet potato casserole

[hyperfixation-hopscotch]

It's 5:30 in the morning

I starting baking at 1:30

It's a fairly complex cake that has a lot of steps, including making a caramel sauce

Thankfully, this is the second time I've made it, so I had a good idea of what I was doing

But I swear to every God, in every pantheon, that if I'm the only one that eats this cake

THAT HAS HOMEMADE CARAMEL SAUCE

I am going to fucking Kermit™️

I don't know WHAT I'm going to Kermit™️ but something is going to happen on this God damned Thanksgiving

[darby-rowe]

୨⎯ "inches of snow" ⎯୧

young!coriolanus snow ☓ fem!reader summary your boyfriend, coriolanus snow, joins you and your family for christmas dinner, but of course it's nothing short of an insufferable experience. but don't worry, because coryo is there to take care of you!

18+ | nsfw | mdni word count 2,298 cw modern au, coryo & reader are in grad school, it's christmas!!, mentions of food, implied body shaming by family, uh oh grandma and grandpa are being bigoted again, bathroom sex, mirror sex, anal, praise, degradation, sex on the bathroom sink, it's a very anal christmas, coryo has a big dick, ooc(?) coryo, y/n usage, petnames, unprotected sex, spit play, cum play, dirty talk notes i know the title is corny as fuck LMFAO but it made me giggle. also imagine reader in ellen griswold's outift from national lampoon's christmas vacation like the one w the blouse and the green skirt bc mmmmm that fit is FIRE. this fic was slightly based off of this post bc i thought it was just too hot to ignore. this is also NOT proofread so any mistakes you find in this fic... dont talk about it

Sitting down at the pleasantly decorated dining room table, your mother insisted on saying grace before you and the rest of your family could dig in on the splendid feast you and the rest of the women in your family worked so hard on. Your mouth watered at the thought of savoring the sweet potato casserole, the baked macaroni and cheese, the ham, everything at the table was extremely decadent. And it was all displayed out in front of you, and right under your nose.

You were a bit greedy, you had to admit, as your hands were the first to get a generous scoop of the fluffy mashed potatoes, earning a scoff from your ever-so lovely paternal grandmother. Say something, you old bat, you thought to yourself, but a pleasant hand came running to rescue you from your angry thoughts. A slight squeeze on your left thigh made you blush, and you turned your head to grin at your lovely boyfriend, Coriolanus Snow. He gave you a reassuring nod, and you went back to indulging in your Christmas feast.

“So, Y/N,” your grandmother piped up, pretentiously swishing her glass of wine. “Anything interesting as of late?”

You swallowed your forkful of mashed potatoes and peas. “My third year of med school is kicking my butt,” you said, trying to lighten the hostility between you and your grandmother. “I’m definitely finding myself to have less and less free time–”

“And how do you feel about that?” your grandmother interjected right in the middle of your response, causing your brows to furrow. Her attention was now fully on Coriolanus, which you turned your head to see what his response would be.

Coriolanus huffed amusingly. “I don’t necessarily have an opinion on it,” he said. “I am also quite busy with my master’s degree. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, or however that saying goes,”

“We’re just busy little bees,” you said in a light manner, albeit a bit awkwardly. “It’ll all be worth it in the end. All this hard work will pay off,”

Your grandfather motioned his glass towards Coriolanus. “Busy little bees, eh? Bet it’s harder on you than her,” This statement made you nearly choke on your champagne. The crudeness of that man! Oh, if you didn’t know any better, you would reach across the table and slap the wrinkles off that smug face–

“It’s actually not really that hard to endure,” Coriolanus spoke up. “We both know we’ll see each other again after our busy spells and that thought keeps us going,”

You smiled bitterly at your grandfather. “Exactly,”

The table got quiet after that, and you spent a good few minutes awkwardly sipping your champagne and eating your generous plate. You felt your appetite unfortunately begin to dissipate as the unpleasantness of the evening began sinking underneath your skin.

“You know, mother,” your father chimed in. “My wife and I both met during our residency, and you know firsthand exactly how busy I was during that time. The 100 hour work weeks, the skills labs, the exams, my boards. It was hard! But my beloved and I made it through, and I’m sure Y/N and Coryo will also make it,”

“I just don’t see the need in investing this much time in such a demanding career when your husband is already planning on pursuing a career that would help the both of you,” grandmother said to you, making your face contort into one of immense displeasure.

“Coryo is not my husband, first off,” you retorted. “At least not yet, but I’m also not going to be a stay-at-home mom who spends her days dealing with the dog, the baby, and the garden. I want a fulfilling career, too! I mean, don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against stay-at-home mothers, but that life is not for me,”

“Why not?” grandmother knitted her eyebrows together. “Look at you, dear, with that revealing blouse and that pretty face, you don’t need to be pushing yourself like this,”

“Oh my god!” you cried, throwing your hands up. You finally decided you had enough, and with bitterness deep within your soul, you abruptly pushed your chair away from the table and stormed off.

“Watch your mouth, young lady!” your grandmother called out after you. “You weren’t excused!”

“I’m twenty-five years old, grandma, I can excuse myself,” you replied angrily as you traversed upstairs, your heels clicking on the hardwood material.

Slamming the door to the bathroom, you made your way to the bathtub where you sat down on the cold tiles with your knees folded up against your chest. You buried your face in your hands as you breathed in and out. In… and out…

God, you really hated your father’s parents. So judgy and crude, you were only left to wonder why they kept getting invited over to these dinners. Your parents knew how they chastised you, and even with their efforts to put a stop to their bigoted comments, they just kept going and going and going.

You were proud of yourself. You were proud of the life you were building for yourself. Sure, you still had eight years of school left, but at the end of the road you were going to be a kick-ass trauma surgeon. And Coryo was on the fast track to earning his master’s in political science. Soon, he would be running for congress, and the two of you would be unstoppable.

But here you were, practicing breathing exercises on the cold tiles of your parents’ bathroom. You needed to move out of there. Anywhere but there.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door and the sweet sound of a familiar voice on the other side. Coriolanus, looking as handsome as ever as he gently let himself into the bathroom, joining you on the floor.

“Hey, bunny,” he cooed, taking your hands in his. “Are you okay?”

You grinned dreamily. “Now that you’re here,” this remark elicited a chuckle from Coriolanus, which made you swoon. “Listen, I have to apologize for my family,”

Coriolanus shook his head. “There’s no need to apologize,” he reassured. “You do not have to say anything. You’re not responsible for their actions, not now, not anytime,” he took your hand and kissed the back of it. “Now, how may I make my sweet girl feel better?”

It didn’t take long before the two of you were on each other like two cannibals competing to see who ripped off the other’s flesh first. Your lips crashed and molded into each other as your warm, wet tongues shoved down each other’s throats in desperate attempts to taste the other’s mouths. Coriolanus tasted like the champagne you planned on indulging yourself with later that night, feeling your mind buzz on the remnants of the alcohol. It ignited your nerves on fire.

It took your breath away when Coriolanus spun you around and pressed you against the bathroom sink, forced to look at the reflection. “Look at you, baby,” he panted, his lips red and swollen from the intense kiss he shared with you just seconds ago. “So fuckin’ pretty and fuckable. I’ll take care of you, don’t worry,”

You looked at your reflection in the mirror, your eyes scanning the pathetic, needy look on your face. You gasped slightly as Coriolanus grabbed your jaw, preventing you from looking away. “I want you to look while I fuck you,” he said, pressing his hardened bulge into your backside which made your eyes slightly roll back into your head. “I know that pussy of yours is throbbing for me, hm? Is it, bunny?”

You opened your eyes and looked at the blush that was beginning to appear on your cheeks. “Mmm’yes,” you whined. “Want you so bad, please. But we have to be quiet. Can’t let my family hear us,”

Before you could say anything else, Coriolanus’s hand slapped onto your mouth making your gasps and breaths all muffled. “There’s a solution for you, my dove,” he murmured into your ear. “Now, here’s what I’m going to do: I’m going to remove my hand and pull up that pretty little skirt of yours. Then, I’m going take off your panties, then fuck you in the ass. Am I clear?”

You and Coriolanus have indulged in anal before. It wasn’t a common occurrence, but it surely wasn’t unwelcome. Your pussy throbbed with anticipation at the thought of Coryo’s throbbing, hard cock in your tight asshole. You nodded, and he removed his hand from your mouth and cupped it in front of your lips. “Spit in my hand,” he ordered, and you drooled a generous amount of saliva into the palm of his hand.

You could hear his wet hand stroke himself in prep to enter you. With your skirt hiked up and your panties gone, you made sure to relax and breathe as you felt Coriolanus push the tip of his cock into your ass. Your efforts to stay quiet flew out the window as a primal, low groan escaped your throat as your ass became full of his dick.

“Fuuuck…” you groaned, hiking your leg up on the bathroom sink to allow Coriolanus to go deeper. God, it felt so fucking good having his dick deep in your ass. So dirty, and so fucking hot.

In a matter of moments, Coriolanus was thrusting his hips hard and deep inside you, making your mouth fall open in a silent cry of pleasure. You resorted to quiet curses and panting to help you express how good you were feeling in that moment. Goosebumps erupted on your skin. There was a slight sting to being penetrated in the ass, but it wasn’t painful to you. In fact, it only added to the overwhelming pleasure building in your nether regions.

“Such a tight fuckin’ ass,” Coriolanus murmured, grabbing your jaw once again. “Look at you, bunny, so fuckin’ needy for this cock in your ass, yeah?”

You had to be quiet. You needed too. But by god, the sound of Coriolanus speaking pure filth in your ears was insatiable. “Yes,” you growled through gritted teeth, your eyes flicking between your face and Coriolanus’s. “Fuckin’ love your cock in my ass, fuck,”

“Such a naughty girl,” he teased, taking a look down to watch his dick pump in and out of your hole. The sound of your panting and groaning mixed with Coriolanus’s grunts, slightly echoing throughout the bathroom.

You whined as you felt him withdraw from your hole, only for him to spin you around once again and help you on top of the bathroom counter. You willingly spread your legs and watched as Coriolanus re-entered your ass before withdrawing completely once more, and then he repeated these actions again, and again, and again.

“Stop teasing,” you whined, reaching a hand down to play with your pussy only for Coriolanus to swat your hand away, much to your dismay.

Coriolanus pinned both of your hands behind your back. “No touching. You’re going to come from my cock in your ass or you won’t come at all,”

You nodded obediently, your body rocking back and forth in time with his thrusts. You could feel your pussy drooling its juices from how unbelievably aroused you were. It was almost uncomfortable how badly your clit ached to be touched, but you wanted to obey your boyfriend’s orders, so you held back.

“My naughty bunny,” Coriolanus moaned. “Your ass is so tight around my cock. Feels so good. You’re making me feel so – fuck – so fucking good,”

Your mouth fell open as your panting grew more frequent. “Yes, fuck my ass,” you whispered. “Make me come from my ass, baby, please,”

“Are you close, love?”

“Yes, yes – fuck,” you threw your head back as moans threatened to escape your throat, your pleasure only heightened as Coriolanus pressed open-mouthed kisses all along your neck. You were about to come undone from just having his cock in your ass, and it was going to feel so, so good.

“Coming,” you mewled, your legs beginning to shake and the familiar feeling of an itching pulsation deep within your pussy. “Oh god, I’m coming from my ass. Fuck… fuck…!”

In an explosion of pleasure that made you see stars, your orgasm hit you like a truck as your juices gushed out of your pussy. You squeezed your eyes shut and gritted your teeth as it took every fiber of your being to not scream out in pure ecstasy. You continued to squirt all over yourself and Coriolanus’s cock. There was no doubt in your mind that your skirt was ruined.

Coriolanus withdrew from your hole to pump on his own cock until thick, white ropes hit your hole. The sound of his moans and groans pleasantly filled your ears. Your legs were still shaking, and you felt your breath nearly get knocked out of your lungs as you felt his shaft re-enter your ass, fucking his cum into you.

It took a good five minutes before the haze of your orgasm left your brain and you were able to think clearly again. You still sat on the kitchen counter as Coriolanus softly kissed your lips, praising you and telling you how good of a job you did.

“I love you,” you mumbled against his lips, holding his face with your hands.

You felt Coriolanus’s lips tug into a smile. “I know you do, my dove,”

It impressed you how well you cleaned yourself up as you prepared to join your family once again, but as you opened the door of the bathroom, your blood ran cold as you found your older sister waiting outside with a disappointed look on her face.

“Really?” she asked. “During dinner?”

God damnit.

don't be shy, let's talk. ♡

[najia-cooks]

[ID: A wide cylindrical pile of rice, eggplants, and 'lamb' on a serving platter, garnished with parsley. End ID]

مقلوبة / Maqluba

مَقْلُوبَة⁩ ("maqlūba," "upside down" or "turned over") is a Levantine casserole in which spiced meat, fried vegetables, and rice are arranged in a pot and simmered; the entire pot is then inverted onto a serving tray to reveal the layered ingredients. Maqluba historically uses lamb and eggplant, but modern recipes more often call for chicken; tomato, cauliflower, potato, bell pepper, and peas are other relatively recent additions to the repertoire.

A well-made maqluba should be aromatic and highly spiced; the meat and vegetables should be very tender; and the rice should be cohesive without being mushy. A side of yoghurt gives a tangy, creamy lift that cuts through and complements the spice and fat in the dish.

Maqluba emphasizes communal eating and presentation. It is usually eaten during gatherings and special occasions, especially during Ramadan—a month of sunrise-to-sunset fasting which celebrates the revelation of the Qu'ran to the prophet Mohammad. The pot is sometimes flipped over at the table for a dramatic reveal.

History

Many sources cite Muhammad bin Hasan al-Baghdadi's 1226 Kitāb al-ṭabīkh (كتاب الطبيخ لمحمد بن حسن البغدادي) as containing the first known reference to maqluba. However, the recipes for "maqluba" in this book are actually for small, pan-fried patties of spiced ground meat. [1] The dish is presumably titled "maqluba" because, once one side is fried, the cook is instructed to turn the patties over ("أقلب الوجه الآخر") to brown the other; the identical name to the modern dish is thus coincidental.

References to dishes more like modern maqluba occur elsewhere. A type of مغمومة ("maghmūma," "covered" dish), consisting of layers of meat, eggplant, and rice, covered with flatbread, cooked and then inverted onto a serving plate, is described in a 9th-century poem by إبراهيم بن المهدي (Ibrāhīm ibn al-Mahdī):

A layer of meat underneath of which lies a layer of its own fat, and another of sweet onion, another of rice, Another of peeled eggplant slices, each looking like a good dirham honestly earned. [...] Thus layered the pot is brought to a boil first then enclosed with a disc of oven bread. On the glowing fire it is then put, thus giving it what it needs of heat and fat. When fully cooked and its fat is well up, turn it over onto a platter, big and wide. (trans. Nawal Nasrallah) [2]

These sources are both Iraqi, but one story holds that maqluba originated in Jerusalem. صلاح الدين الأيوبي (Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn al-Ayyūbi; "Saladin"), after capturing the city from the Crusaders and reinstating Muslim rule in 1187, was served the dish, and was the first to describe it with its current name. Before this point, the Jerusalem specialty had supposedly been known as "باذنجانية" ("bāḏinjānīyya"), from "باذنجان" "bāḏinjān" "eggplant" + ية- "-iyya," a noun-forming suffix.

[ID: The same dish shown from directly above. End ID]

In Palestine

Maqluba is often invoked in the context of Palestinian strength and resistance, in defiance of its occasional description as an "Israeli" dish. Palestinian magazine writer Aleeya Rizvi reflects:

In the wake of the recent [2023] war in Gaza, our culinary endeavors, particularly in crafting and sharing traditional Palestinian dishes like Maqluba, represent a conscious effort to contribute to the preservation and resilience of Palestinian culture. In a time when cultural heritage is under threat, preparing and enjoying these time-honored recipes becomes more than a mere culinary activity; it transforms into a deliberate act of cultural continuity and solidarity.

Maqluba also has a more specific association with physical resistance against the backdrop of increased settler and police violence against Palestinians, including regular Israeli raids and attacks on the جامع الأقصى ("Jāmi' al-Aqṣā"; al-Aqsa mosque), during Ramadan.

The holiest month in the Islamic calendar, Ramadan is given over to fasting, prayer, and reflection; people gather together in homes and mosques to break their fast after sunset, and spend entire nights in mosques in worship. Khadija Khwais and Hanady Al-Halawani used to serve maqluba for افطار ("ifṭār," fast-breaking meal) in the Al-Aqsa mosque, until Israeli occupation authorities banned them from the mosque for "incitement."

In response, starting in 2015, Al-Halawani and other volunteer مرابطين ("murābiṭīn," lit. "holy people," guardians of the mosque) stationed themselves on the ground outside the mosque's gate (باب السلسلة; Bāb as-Silsila, "chain gate") to prepare and serve maqluba. Those who were banned from entering the mosque broke their fast and prayed at the mosque's gates, and in the nearby alleys of the Old City. The same year saw Israeli security personnel and settlers attack Palestinian protestors and guardians outside and inside the mosque with tear gas and stun grenades.

For Al-Halawani, the serving of maqluba at the al-Aqsa gates symbolizes "defiance, steadfastness, and insistence on continuing the fast [...] in spite of the occupation’s practices." The "Maqluba at al-Aqsa" ritual "has become one of the most disturbing Palestinian scenes for the occupation forces," who associate it with the defense of "Palestinian heritage" and the intent to "motivate worshipers and murabitin to repel incursions into the mosque." (Al-Halawani has been arrested, threatened, beaten, and detained by Israeli police multiple times for her role as a defender of Al-Aqsa. She was among the prisoners freed in trades between Israel and Hamas in December 2023.)

In 2017, occupation forces installed metal detectors, electronic gates, metal barriers, and police cameras to surveil worshipers following a shoot-out at one of al Aqsa's gates. Hundreds of protesters refused to enter the mosque until the repressive measures were removed, instead gathering and praying in its courtyard; surrounding families bolstered the sit-ins by serving food and drink. When the gates were dismantled, over 50,000 people gathered to eat maqluba in celebration, picking up on the earlier association of the dish with Saladin's victory (and its resultant alternate name, "أكلة النصر," "ʔakla an-naṣr," "victory meal").

The name "maqluba," meaning "upside-down" or "inverted," may be associated with victory and resistance as well. Fatema Khader noted in 2023 that the method of serving maqluba was a "symbolic representation of how Israeli policies and decisions against Palestinians will be flipped on their heads and become rendered meaningless." It is also relevant that maqluba is meant to be served to large groups of people, and can thus be linked, symbolically and literally, to solidarity and communal resistance.

This year in Gaza, Palestinians show steadfast optimism as they paint murals, hang lanterns, buy sweets, hold parties, and pray in groups amongst the rubble where mosques once stood. But despite these efforts at creating joy, the dire circumstances take heavy tolls, and the holiday cannot be celebrated as usual: Israel's campaign of slow starvation led Ghazzawi Diab al-Zaza to comment, "We have been fasting almost against our will for three months".

Donate to provide hot meals in Gaza for Ramadan

[1] Also reprinted in Mosul: Umm Al-Rubi'in Press (مطبعة ام الربيعين) (1934), p. 57. For an English translation see Charles Perry, A Baghdad Cookery Book (2005), pp. 77-8.

[2] This poem, as well as one of Ibn al-Mahdi's maghmuma dishes, were compiled in Ibn Sayyar al-Warraq's 10th-century Book of Dishes (كتاب الطبيخ وإصلاح الأغذية المأكولات وطيّبات الأطعمة المصنو; "Kitāb al-ṭabīkh waʔiṣlāḥ al-ʔaghdiyat al-maʔkūlāt waṭayyibāt ʔaṭ'ima al-maṣno," "Book of cookery, food reform, delicacies, and prepared foods"), p. 99 recto. For Nasrallah's English translation see Annals of the Caliph's Kitchens, pp. 313-4.

In the 14th-century Andalusian Cookbook (كتاب الطبيخ في المغرب والأندلس في عصر الموحدين، للمكلف المجهول; "Kitāb al-ṭabīkh fī al-Maghrib wa al-Andalus fī ʻaṣr al-Mawahḥidīn," "Book of cookery from the Maghreb and Andalusia in the era of Almohads"), a maghmuma recipe appears as "لون مغموم لابن المهدى", "maghmum by Ibn al-Mahdi". For an English translation see An Anonymous Andalusian Cookbook, trans. Perry et al.

Ingredients:

For a 6-qt stockpot. Serves 12.

For the meat:

1 recipe seitan lamb

or

2 cups (330g) ground beef substitute

1 cinnamon stick

1 bay laurel leaf

Pinch ground cardamom

Several cracks black pepper

For the dish:

3 cups (600g) Egyptian rice

2 medium-sized globe eggplants

2 large Yukon gold potatoes (optional)

Vegetarian 'chicken' or 'beef' bouillon cube (optional)

2 1/2 tsp table salt (1 1/2 tsp, if using bouillon)

Vegetable oil, to deep-fry

Fried pine nuts or sliced blanched almonds, to top

Egyptian rice is the traditional choice in this dish, but many modern recipes use basmati.

I kept my ingredients list fairly simple, but you can also consider adding cauliflower, carrots, peas, chickpeas, zucchini, bell pepper, and/or tomato to preference (especially if omitting meat substitutes).

For the spices:

1 1/2 Tbsp maqluba spices

or

1 4" piece (3g) cinnamon bark, toasted and ground (1 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon)

3/4 tsp (2.2g) ground turmeric

3/4 tsp (1.5g) cloves, toasted and ground

3/4 tsp (2.2g) black peppercorns, toasted and ground

15 green cardamom pods (4.5g), toasted, seeds removed, and ground (or 3/4 tsp ground cardamom)

Instructions:

For the meat:

1. Prepare the seitan lamb, if using: it will need to be started several hours early, or the night before.

2. If using ground meat: heat 2 tsp oil in a skillet on medium. Add cinnamon stick and bay leaf and fry for 30 seconds until fragrant.

3. Add meat and ground spices and fry, agitating occasionally, until browned. Set aside.

For the dish:

2. Rinse rice 2 to 3 times, until water runs almost clear. Soak in cold water for 30 minutes, while you prepare the vegetables.

3. Optional: to achieve a presentation with eggplant on the sides of the maqluba, remove the skin from either side of one eggplant (so that all slices have flesh exposed on both sides) and then cut lengthwise into 1/2" (1cm)-thick slices.

Cut the other eggplant (or both eggplants) widthwise into coins and half-coins.

4. Sprinkle eggplant slices with salt on both sides and leave for 10-15 minutes to release water.

5. Peel potatoes and cut in 1/4" (1/2 cm) slices.

6. Heat about an inch of oil in a deep skillet or wok on medium (a potato slice dropped in should immediately form bubbles). Fry the potato slices until golden brown, then remove onto a paper-towel-lined plate or wire cooling rack.

7. Press eggplant slices on both sides with a towel to remove moisture. Fry in the same oil until translucent and golden brown, then remove as before.

Fry other vegetables (except for tomato, chickpeas, and peas) the same way, if using.

8. Drain rice. Whisk bouillon, salt, and ground spices into several cups of hot water.

9. Prepare a large, thick-bottomed pot with a circle of oiled parchment paper (or with a layer of sliced tomatoes). Add ground meat, if using. Layer widthwise-sliced eggplants into the pot, followed by potatoes. Place longitudinally sliced eggplants around the sides of the pot, large side up.

10. Add rice and pack in. Fold eggplant slices down over the rice, if they protrude.

11. Pour broth into the pot, being careful not to upset the rice. Add more water if necessary, so that the rice is covered by about an inch.

12. Heat on medium to bring to a boil. Reduce heat to low, cover with a closely fitting lid, and cook 30 minutes.

13. If rice is not fully cooked after 30 minutes, lightly stir and add another cup of water. Re-cover and cook another 15 minutes. Check again and repeat as necessary.

14. Allow maqluba to rest for half an hour before flipping for best results. Place a large platter upside-down over the mouth of the pot, then flip both over in one smooth motion. Tap the bottom of the pot to release, and leave for a few minutes to allow the maqluba to drop.

15. Slowly lift the pot straight up, rotating slightly if the sides seem stuck.

16. Top with fried seitan lamb, chopped parsley, and fried pine nuts or almonds, as desired.

[trashmouth-richie]

eddie x fem! reader

masterlist

w/c 7.8k

summary: things heat up in more ways than one for the roommates, thanksgiving makes everyone thankful.

warnings: NO MINORS, language, fighting, mentions of child neglect, mentions of murder

a/n: thank you to my beta readers: @jo-harrington @sweetsweetjellybean pls check out their work they are both so amazingly talented 🩵 thank you to @blueywrites for screaming with me on certain parts of this story + @fracturedarkness for helping me plan future parts for this series.

again— I’m no longer doing a tag list for this series— this week as really opened my eyes to a bunch of shit in this world and I’m fucking pissed off about it.

“Do you think it’s enough food? Last year Mike ate all the mashed potatoes so I’m just hoping there is enough for everyone.”

The holidays were always a stressful time for most people, housewives stressing over meal planning, guest lists and matching outfits for their Christmas cards—ones that coordinated well and hid the fact that they were miserable with their lazy, limp dick husbands. Poor Nancy fell into that category all too well.

She’s walking circles around her dining room table, counting the dishes on her fingers. Ham, turkey, cheesy potatoes, mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole, corn, green bean casserole, a relish tray, strawberry fluff, gravy, two pumpkin pies, two pecan pies, a jello mold, two dozen caramel Rice Krispie bars, a pan of iced banana bars, and one can of jellied cranberry sauce on a crystal plate.

When Nancy asked you to join the Wheeler/Byers/Hopper’s gang for thanksgiving this year, you quickly accepted the invitation, asking if there was anything you could bring. She requested you bring the dessert. So the night before Thanksgiving, you started the tedious task of keeping Eddie from eating all the icing and caramel.

“Eddie! Have you seen the caramels I just bought? They were on the counter next to the flour canister.”

“Nope! Haven’t theen ‘em,” he answers all too quickly, “you thur you bought ‘em?”

“Yes I’m su—,”

Goddamn him.

Walking into the living room you approach the metal head, splayed out on the couch, fingers shoved in his mouth picking at his teeth, “oh Eddie?”

“Mhmm?” He hums, innocently, looking at you with big doe eyes.

“You wouldn’t happen to have caramel stuck in your teeth, the same caramel I bought and said, ‘please don’t eat these they’re for the Rice Krispie bars,’ would you?”

Rose colors his cheeks, “what? Me? Not listening? Ok O’Donnell,” he says with a scoff.

“Eddie,” you say sternly, hip thrown out and arms crossed over your chest.

“Ok! Fine! They were just so fucking good! But I’m dying right now— my teeth feel practically glued together— do we have any floss?!”

“Nance, I think there is more than enough here, you and Jonathan will have leftovers for weeks, months possibly.”

Fretting, Nancy wipes her fidgeting hands on her apron, “I just want it to be perfect— you know how I am.”

Type A, that’s how she was.

“It’ll be perfect, Nancy,” Jonathan agrees, coming up behind her and holding her around her small waist, “just like you.”

Scarlet heat accentuates her rouged cheeks. “Ok ok, no kissing the cook just yet,” she says, peeling herself from Jonathan’s arms, “can you and Argyle set the card table up in the basement?”

-

The turkey almost melted like butter on your tongue, the gravy was rich and savory. Karen’s cheesy potatoes were creamy and the crunchy cornflakes on top were to die for; the entire meal was delicious. The labor of Nancy’s love for her family and friends showing through her craftsmanship of amazing cuisine. You hadn’t seen Karen or Ted since the wedding, being the closest thing to parents you had, you were ecstatic when Karen joined you over the hot water and soapy sink, washing the china plates.

“So sweety, how have things been going lately? Nancy said you have a roommate?” Her tight blonde permed curls shaking behind her as she scrubs the pot used to make the gravy.

Drying the freshly rinsed dish, you answer with a coy smile on your face, “I’ve been good, doing better than I have in a while, yeah, I have a roommate, uhh Eddie Munson.”

“Oh Mike’s friend? He always was so kind to him, taking him under his wing and showing him the ropes in high school,” she looks at you then, her lavender eyeshadow catching the light over the sink, “I’m happy you two are dating.”

Dating.

Dating Eddie Munson.

Scenarios fly through your mind, Eddie holding your hand at the movie theater, him behind you—his chin resting on your shoulder helping you play video games at Arcade Land, watching him write songs and play his guitar, kissing his lips sweetly, deeply— moving down his neck, his chest. His fingers on your thighs—

You’re sweating.

Head dizzy and full of visions of you loving Eddie and Eddie loving you back dance in your head.

“W-we’re not dating, just—”

How would you describe your relationship with Eddie? Roommates? Friends? Waiting for him to kiss you?

“—friends,” you say, enunciating the word slowly, rolling it off your tongue.

“Well,” Karen says, a hidden smile on her knowing lips, “I’m happy you two are just friends.”

Friends.

Such a complicated word. Because you and Eddie were more than that, but definitely not dating. The tension between you was electric, and sometimes jarring, but you went to bed thinking of him every night, hoping he would just open the door to your room, slip beneath the sheets and hold you while you dreamed.

-

[Two weeks prior]

The morning after you had comforted him, you woke up alone— his side of the bed still warm as if he had just gotten up. Sleeping so soundly you weren’t sure what day it was, or the time. The alarm clock on your night stand said 7 o’clock but that couldn’t be right. You and Eddie had both slept for over twelve hours, the comforting kind of sleep that lulls babies to sleep, gentle, sweet, pillowy dreams in one another’s arms. Getting dressed for work, you slip a pair of jeans on, and change into a long navy blue cardigan, headband to match. Lacing up your converse, you open your bedroom door.

Eddie’s in his room getting dressed for work when you find him. Knocking on the opened door gently, you poke your head in, his eyes lift and meet yours, a sleepy, coy grin colors his face, but it doesn’t meet his eyes.

“Hey,” he whispers softly, stopping mid button on his work coveralls.

The black bandana around his head presses his bangs nearly flat, the soft waves of his chocolate dipped curls reflect the sun light with a honey oranged hue.

“Hi,” your voice is small and meek.

An overwhelming feeling of dread* clouds your mind. Where would this new found friendship and comfort lead you both? Maybe Eddie was regretting the entire night. You haven’t been on this comfort level with someone you were physically attracted to ever. Steve was like a brother to you. And Chad— you were never comfortable with him, your skin crawling just thinking of it. But Eddie? The sight of him gave you butterflies, his arms holding your waist while you slept was an intimacy you haven’t experienced before, and you wanted to relish in the feeling of it.

He fiddles with his rings on his fingers, rolling them around and around before his mouth opens to speak, “I’m sorry for yesterday,” he blurts out, looking down in shame, unable to meet your curious eyes.

Barely comprehending that he’s apologizing for being vulnerable, you walk towards him slowly. He notices your staggering steps and inches backward. His walls are back up, caged in with his feelings, barbed wire on the top so you couldn’t find a way in, electric fence surrounding the brick walls—the highest voltage imaginable.

“Ed—”

“Please,” he begs, voice cracked and broken, wavering on another breakdown, “please don’t… I don’t need your sympathy.”

Tears well in your eyes at his recoiling. How can a night of comfort turn into despair and hostility the next morning? Nose burning, signaling your brain that tears would be falling any second, you wipe your eyes hastily.

Eddie felt like his neck was out, exposed to the world, waiting for the guillotine’s blade to slice his skin, until the crimson of his blood spilled in the basket, severing his head, a trophy amongst the weak.

Munson’s didn’t accept charity, his whole life that's what he felt like to Wayne, a charity case, a goddamn roadblock in Wayne’s life stopping him from finding a girlfriend, sleeping on a real bed, forcing him to work overnight just for Eddie— he’d never forgive himself for the pain he’s caused him— and now you? Offering your bed to him, your fingers twirling through his hair as he came undone. Whimpering like an infant, coating your thighs with thick tears. Sure it felt nice to have someone there with him, to reassure him it was all going to be okay, sweet, angelic voice of reason. But when he woke this morning he felt disgusting, like a predator, a vicious wolf preying on a sweet innocent lamb offering herself to him because he was upset.

He didn’t want that for you. He didn’t want to taint your soul with his past.

“I’m not giving my sympathy,” you voiced into the void, whether he heard it or not you weren’t sure.

Eddie breathing heavily, trying to contain his emotions from spilling out of him, “good, because I don’t want it.”

He walks around you in a huff, the muted scent of cigarettes and cologne hit your nose, as he passes you and walks into the bathroom, shutting the door all too hard. Following him, you’re certain you are full fledged crazy at this point, like in a scary movie when the lead actress stays in the house instead of running away.

Opening the door, opening Pandora’s box, you push it til it swings wide, he’s hovering over the sink brushing his teeth, white and blue toothpaste decorate the corners of his mouth.

“Tooty,” he groans, spitting a dollop of toothpaste into the sink, “seriously— I don’t want to talk about it, whatever you have to say save it for the human Care Bear Harrington—I don’t want to hear it.” he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

Stones would be impressed with how still you’re standing, head raised waiting for him to look you in your eye. Refusing to break. A storm in your eyes threatening to flood. “Why are you acting like this?”

“I’m not acting like anything,” Eddie grunts impatiently, “are you ready?”

When you don’t say anything, he moves you out of the way, large hands around your arms, stepping around you and going into the kitchen.

Following him, you won't let up, his head in the fridge he pulls out the orange juice carton, drinking directly from the jug, “Eddie, you can talk to me about it, I’m a good listener.”

He shakes his head and rolls his eyes, gasping for breath as he swallows the citrus liquid, “I said— I said, I didn’t want to talk about it and I meant it, I’m a grown ass man— ”

Interrupting him, not giving him time to finish you blurt, “Doesn’t make you less of one just because you’re upset.”

His teeth clench so hard they almost crack, his hands balled into fists at his sides, the orange juice container crumbling in his grasp. Years of therapy as a child did nothing to help him. And neither could you.

“Stop,” he snaps, his eyes pinched tight, a wave of fury washing over him, only seeing red. “Jesus Christ enough! I don’t need this shit right now, I’m gonna be late for work!”

He stomps towards the door, shoving his boots on haphazardly, throwing his leather jacket under his arm, the same leather jacket you had worn the night before, your perfume lingering on the inside.

The smell of you lighting his fire even more, he’s losing all self control.

“What’s your problem anyway?” he grumbles, kicking open the front door, waiting for you to follow. His eyes are wide and full of hurt, anger, crippling anxiety so deep he didn’t even know if he was breathing. But no matter how mad you looked, how many tears you kept wiping away from your lash line, he couldn’t stop.

Keys in the ignition he puts the van into reverse and yanks the wheel quickly, driving like he robbed a bank.

Anytime you try to speak he cuts you off.

“Do you like getting involved with people's lives? Why are you so desperate to know what happened? Need something to gossip about at the salon? So you and your boss can whisper shit about me again? Hmm? ”

“What the fuck are y—” you try to say, but he cuts you off again, he’s raging war on himself and on you, it’s far from over, no surrender flag in sight.

“That must be it right?” he preens, barely stopping at the stop lights as he flies to your work, tires squealing around corners, “I’m here because you need something to talk about, the well full of hot gossip of Hawkins must have run dry. Well guess what sweetheart? It’s not anything I haven’t heard before.”

He’s so clueless, so expertly out of sync with what you were trying to convey, what you were begging him to understand. The tears are free falling and you don’t stop them, screaming at him, “Eddie!”

“What?!” he barks back, chest heaving with hatred filled lungs and venomous words so toxic they’re burning your skin.

Aching soul and self doubt at an all time low you try to will the words to not shake as you deliver, “do you really think I would hold you while you were sad with any other intention than consoling you!? You were upset and the least I could do after you helped me was try to make you feel better!”

He tried to argue but it’s your turn to cut him off, holding up a hand as he fumed through his nose. He parks in back of the salon, slamming on the brakes as you both jolt forward. “Let it go, Too—”

“I care about you, you stubborn asshole!” You grab your purse between your feet and open the door and jump out.

“Just stop,” Eddie pleads, his eyes brimming with tears, “don’t.”

“I can’t,” you say back in a whisper, your voice breaking at the last syllable, you reach for the door, out of breath and holding in your sobs the best you can, “oh, and for the record— Josie was telling me to be nice to you and give you a chance— my mistake.”

Slamming the door you don’t hear him break, you don’t hear him thrust the heel of his hand into the steering wheel until it aches and burns. His nerves shooting pain through his entire arm. You don’t hear him scream and hate himself as he drives to work, his body soulless, empty, fragile.

-

“Tooty, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you tell Josie for the tenth time.

You definitely were not fine.

Distracted the minute you got to work, your mind raced with questions of the unknown. Hurt, confused and pissed off, you had mixed the wrong color formula for your clients hair, resulting in money down the drain from your own paycheck as you threw the mixture away and started it again, for the third attempt.

At 10 o’clock you were folding towels in the back when you realized you had bleached an entire load of darks. The once rich black towels were now faded with splotches of orange.

Eddie’s words had ripped through your heart, hurdling themselves into the deepest parts of you that were sheltered away from anyone, taking up solace in your forbidden soul, hollowing it out.

By noon you were crying while rolling a client's perm rods into her hair, having to step away multiple times before Josie gently told you enough was enough and that you should go home for the day.

Not wanting to call Eddie and get a ride you decided to walk the half mile through town back to your home on Cherry lane.

Kicking a rock with the toe of your shoe for most of the walk home, you mull over the events of the day. Wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your cardigan as you tread along the sidewalk.

-

[Thanksgiving Day]

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me to Nancy and Jonathan’s? It’ll be fun!”

Eddie is leaned against the driver window of his van, his finger tracing a smiley face into the dust in the dash. “I wish I could, but Wayne and I go fishing every year on Thanksgiving— it’s a tradition.”

Every year since Eddie was ten years old, Wayne took him fishing on Thanksgiving, starting early in the morning and going until sundown, ending the night camping beneath the stars, cooking their daily catch for supper, “save me a piece of pie okay?” he finishes, ruffling up your hair, a shit eating grin on his lips.

Feeling horrible that your car was still out of commission, Eddie had let you borrow the van for the night after you dropped him off at Wayne’s. “And you’re positive it’s okay if I take the van?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?” Eddie’s laugh spread across his cheeks, the black beanie he has on his head inching closer to falling off every second, “Tooty,” he breathes, his brown eyes dipping into yours, “take the goddamn van and have a good time—and hurry up, you’re gonna be late.”

[2 Weeks prior]

🎶 it was the third of June another sleepy dusty delta day

I was out choppin’ cotton and my brother was baling hay

Bobbie Jo’s tune was ringing in his ears all day— no matter how loud he cranked the radio in the shop, no matter how many times he tried to hum a different tune— her -* words rang through his mind like silk, coating his skin and implementing old memories he didn’t want brought up.

He was filled with fury. A ticking time bomb. It should have been no surprise when Sean and Aaron started poking at him, how unhinged he would become.

“What’s got your panties in a twist, Munson,” Sean sneers, changing the oil on the Ford truck, “your little girlfriend finally figure out you’re a fucking loser?”

Eddie had already thrown a wrench across the shop out of frustration when he realized he forgot his lunch. He slammed the hood of a blue minivan on his fingers right after morning break, and now Aaron and Sean were starting in on him.

His breath erratic, trying to breathe through his nose to calm himself down but failing. His misery over taking his nerves. He grunts through barred teeth, “We aren’t dating,”

Sean perks up at the news, his wiry mustache splattered across his top lip like a squashed caterpillar, decrepit and sparse. “Oh shit, so she’s single, huh?”

“Damn,” Aaron chimes in, his hands cupped around his junk as he shakes it back and forth between his greasy hands, “what I wouldn't give to be balls deep in that pretty little mouth, that’d shut her up for good.”

“You’re skating on thin ice, fuck rag, I’d watch my mouth if I were you.” Eddie’s shoulders are tensed, adrenaline at an all time high. Fight or flight screaming through his blood racing through his heart and speeding up his heart rate.

“Whatchya gonna do about it, freak?” Sean spits pushing Eddie in the chest, “ ‘Name the time and place’ yeah motherfucker? How about right here right now?” Standing toe to toe with Eddie, but a foot shorter he peers into Eddie’s face, egging him on.

“Ever since you moved in with that whore you’ve been such a little bitch about everything— I mean I get it, honestly— Chad always said she had the sweetest p—”

Sean chokes on the last word as Eddie’s fist connects with his cheek, his rings would end up leaving bruises in their shape on his skin for weeks to come.

Sean throws a punch at Eddie but he is quick to dodge it, years of fighting in the trailer park giving him an upper hand. Blood spews from Sean’s mouth as Eddie upper cuts him in the chin, his tongue almost split in half as he bit down from the impact.

Eddie is blinded momentarily as Aaron socks him in the eye, a deep purpling plum colored bruise that took weeks to heal. Stumbling backwards his back hits the red sun faded tool box, Sean came swinging a crow bar out of nowhere and hit Eddie in the ribs, a groaning thud as the sound of his bones shatter in his body.

Behind his back, he reaches for whatever is closest, a wrench wrapped tight in his fingers gets thrown in the air at Sean, hitting him in the throat and knocking him over onto the smooth concrete of the shop floor, gasping for breath.

Aaron tackles Eddie, sending him into the air compressor, four fists are swinging and bodies shifting as they both struggle for dominance. Eddie’s lip is cut and his eye is swollen almost shut. Aaron’s nose is dripping blood on Eddie’s shirt as he punches him in the same place that Sean hit him with the crow bar. He’s able to get a knee up between Aaron and himself and twists his body to get above him, and when he does he lays punch after punch into Aaron’s swollen bloody face.

With each rocking fist connecting with flesh, Eddie has one thing on his mind, you. He thinks about the foul way they had disrespected you. The way you had cried when you told him you couldn’t stop caring about him. How he was close to losing you because he couldn’t open up and let you in. How terrified you must have been for all those years when you were scared and alone, nobody there to hold you and comfort you. And while he’s pummeling Aaron into a bloody pulp of cracked teeth and swollen eyes, it finally clicks for him.

-

The fight didn’t last long, but was effective enough to get Eddie suspended for the rest of the work day— and Aaron and Sean got a nice week's vacation with no pay.

Eddie’s knuckles are coated in a mixture of blood and spit. His jaw aches as he drives home with one eye open, it’s the clearest he’s seen in a long time.

[Thanksgiving]

“Fish ain’t bitin’ much are they?” Wayne and Eddie have both cast and reeled in their rods multiple times with zero luck. The small boat Eddie had gifted Wayne with for Christmas 3 years ago stood at still waters of Lover’s Lake, both men chilled to the bone.

“Nah, they sure aren’t. Probably no fish left in here after the summer you had.”

Since Eddie had graduated, Wayne dropped down to part time at the plant and went to dayshift. A true dream for him and for Eddie, offering to pick up most of the bills, a silent thank you for all the years that Wayne has taken care of him when he didn’t have to, but did anyway— the only caring person in his life, until you.

The wind whips through Eddie’s hair, tugging the curls out from the confinements of the cotton stocking cap snug on his head. The once crisp autumn foliage is soggy like forgotten cereal in a bowl of milk around them from the previous nights rain, chilling the usual humidity from the air and adding a depth of ice in their veins as they shake and shiver in their jackets, Eddie in his leather jacket, Wayne in a weathered faded khaki canvas coat.

Ruddy hands with silvered rings light two cigarettes, passing one to a pair of calloused, aged hands. Inhaling deeply and blowing warm smoke in the whispering winds of the quiet fog around them.

Wayne runs a rough hand over his sunned scalp, itching the small patches of hair left, as he readjusts his tattered cap, letting the nicotine settle into his bones and soothe the stubborn ache in his jaw, like ointment on an arthritic joint, “you ever gonna bring that girlfriend over to meet me or you keepin’ her alls to yourself?”

“What girl?” Eddie says quickly, coyly, blowing smoke into the space between the two of them, hiding his mouth with the curtain of his curls, opening the coffee can full of mud and worms, pushing another worm on the end of his hook.

Wayne hadn’t talked to him about girls since he was fifteen when he walked into his room and tossed a box of rubbers at his chest and grumbled, “use ‘em,” under his breath.

Irritation blooms against Wayne’s brows, “boy, don’t play dumb with me,” he cracks at Eddie, a false stern voice in his gruff voice, “the one you’re dating you little wise ass.”

“I’m not dating anyone, Wayne.” Eddie says, pretending to be preoccupied with the tackle box full of neon fishing lures and bobbers. He runs his thumb over the rough cracked surface of the faded red and white bobber, the same one Wayne gave to him when they started fishing all those years ago. The memory brings a smile to his face.

The gruff scoff from Wayne’s throat suggests bullshit to his ears from his nephew’s mouth, a noise Eddie has heard many many times in the two decades he had been living with Wayne, one that told him that he better tell the truth, and right the hell now. No matter that he now towers over Wayne, he’ll always be his boy, the wide eyed boy with a mountain of guilt on his shoulders, his son.

And as Wayne always knew— the more he poked and prodded, the more Eddie would clam up. They sit in comfortable silence, the slight breeze rippling the water on Lover’s Lake, rocking the small fiberglass boat and swaying the two Munson men gently.

How could he describe the relationship between you and him? Not dating, but hopefully more than friends. He didn’t have many friends that he’d willingly let help him battle his inner-most demons. In fact, Gareth and Jeff were still left in the dark about it. The breeze continues to grow frigid and burrows itself between the layers of his clothing, freezing his skin and peppering it with goose bumps. The chattering of Eddie’s teeth remind him of Steve’s birthday when he offered you his jacket, and opted to freeze the rest of the night just so you wouldn’t be chilly.

It’s simple really, he admitted it to Steve, but somehow admitting it to Wayne was worse than the hit from the box of condoms against his chest.

He says it all too fast, out of breath, and barely audible. But he says it. And a smile spreads across the weathered leather of Wayne’s face, pulling his mustache up, a glimmer of a sparkle in his eye, “see, now was that so bad?”

-

[2 weeks prior]

His knuckles ache, and he’s not positive if it’s from the blows to Aaron’s face or the way he’s gripping the steering wheel. His realization while busting open Aaron’s cheek made him eager to get home. Eager to clean himself up before he went to pick you up from work.

The house is silent as he walks through the garage, his angry hurtful words bounce back to him off the kitchen walls, the counter. The orange juice was still where he left it, crumpled and misshapen.

He truly was an asshole. Hurting the one person who cared for him other than Wayne. He sits down in a chair and unties his boots, blood splattered on the toes. Peeling the sweat stained work coveralls from his body, he tosses them down the steps to the basement, leaving them for later.

He stands partially naked in the kitchen, clad in only his underwear and socks, the kick of adrenaline wearing completely off, the promise of pain against his broken ribs rings searing heat through his body.

A glance around the kitchen stills the breath in his lungs. The kitchen is a wreck from the waffle night, the colossal beginning of a budding relationship that he was currently in the trenches hoping to fix. The once silky batter is now hard, pale concrete cemented onto the sides of the glass mixing bowl. The waffle iron was open, sprayed with cooking oil that was sitting with its cap off on the counter. The plates were sticky with cold syrup and now styrofoam resembled waffles, still on the table from where you had both sat. Forks and knives laying atop the ceramic plates in a haphazard way, awaiting the return of warm hands to finish their job.

Without thinking he starts to clean up, filling the sink with hot water, scraping the food from the plates into the garbage, putting away the orange juice and the left out butter and cooking spray. In no time the kitchen is sparkling and Eddie’s body is screaming at him to rest. The cuts on his knuckles are cleaned but swollen, soap stung from the water. His side aches, adrenaline slipping away with every growing minute.The pain is almost unbearable.

A clicking noise from the front door has him turning suddenly, a slight panic in his nerves as he stands stone still.

-

A block from the house, your tears return, cold, and stuck to your face like ice on poles. You’re exhausted, stomping the entire way home drove shin splints up your legs, the cold cramping dull in your calves. Thinking of Eddie the entire way home you are dumbfounded— completely and utterly confused at his reaction. How could he not know how you felt about him? Why was he begging you to stop? Wondering if you’ll ever get the answers to those questions you wipe your nose with the sleeve of your cardigan. If he was going to guard himself again, and put the barriers back up— so could you.

The door is stuck as you try to open it, pushing and shoving your shoulder into it, it finally gives, stumbling your way into the living room in the most ungraceful way. The scent of freshly wiped surfaces sting your nose and stop you dead in your tracks. You weren’t expecting to be relieved from seeing Eddie, but the relief is short lived as you notice the deep violet and indigo bruise painting his eye.

“Ed—,” you gasp, covering your mouth as you run towards him, foregoing the screaming in your legs, “wh— oh my God!”

His eyes melt at your appearance, scarlet rimmed eyes and wet cheeks take him in, eyebrows dipped into unease and apprehension. He feels your hesitancy, thick like fog surrounding you both as you reach your fingers up to his cheek. Ice cold pads of your fingertips skim the tender skin of his face, brushing the wispy hair of his bangs from his eyes with your fingertips to get a better look at him.

He doesn’t speak, barely breathing at your gentle touch on his face. The frosty coolness of your fingers burn his skin with every silky movement of your hands. He tries to avoid your eyes, avoid the pain he knew was from earlier and his cowardice.

Fingers dancing along his skin, you scan over his torso, the same way you did on the morning after Halloween, the bruising from the mishap of the steps is replaced by a pattern of splotchy deep bruising.

“They’re broke,’’ Eddie groans, his split lip ripping open, from him trying to force a smile, “looks cool though right?”

Using humor to deflect the true way he feels was an easy defense mechanism for him, but you won’t bite. Won’t take the bait he’s dropping into your waters, won’t nibble at his small offering.

Trying not to break, you stand your ground, “what happened?”

“Nothing that wasn’t deserved,” Eddie says, eyes casted downwards at your hands near his ribs, “I was just having a shitty enough day— my own fault—“, he adds quickly, his eyes flicking to yours, not wanting to put salt into the already festering wound he created, “I—uh—I took care of it.” He says in a final explanation.

“And now I’m going to take care of this,” he motions between you both, sliding his hands down your arms and settling them in your hands.

“Tooty— I,” he exhales as deep as his lungs will allow given the break in his ribs, spilling his stitched up heart to you, letting the walls fall with each word, “I’m sorry— I’m so fucking sorry. Nothing I do or say will ever amount to how shitty I feel for making you cry, for pushing you away. I’m a coward when it comes to this type of shit, and it was too heavy— too muddy for me to explain. I figured if I’d shut you out you’d go back to how it was before— before Harrington’s birthday, before Halloween befo—,”

A shake of your head and a sharp intake of breath come from your body. Did all of this mean nothing to him? The flirting, the gentle touching, the sweet gestures? It was all just something he wanted to forget?

Voice small and shallow, “Is that what you want Eddie? To go back to how it was before, when you first moved in?”

A single tear falls from your face, and without thinking, without second guessing himself or wondering if you would think he was being weird, Eddie is quick to brush it away with the curl of his forefinger. His swollen knuckles are tight and achy. He tries to hide a hiss from his teeth, wanting to live in this euphoric moment for as long as he can, as long as you will allow him to. He extends both hands now to your face, his rough thumbs rubbing over the expanse of your cheeks, fingers behind your ears, curling into your hair.

“I want,” he breathes easy now, as if the touch of your skin on his fingers mended his broken bones, his eyes soft where it allowed, one still swollen shut, “I need you to know that I care, too— and I don’t want you to ever quit caring about me— baby, I’ve cared about you for years—- and I can’t get myself to stop.”

And when a sob breaks from your chest, he pulls you into him, “c’mere,” the sensation steals the breath from your lungs, you’ve never been touched with such gentleness, such care. He’s holding you as if you’re glass. Fragile, cracked and held together with shitty Elmer’s glue that was a tempting snack for children. It’s so delicate the way he’s stroking your skin.

Minutes or hours pass you’re not sure. His warmth engulfs you, his musky cologne and spiced deodorant is a gentle blanket around you. Wrapping you in a swaddle of his admiration.

His hair tickles your cheeks, tattooed arms are twisted in your hair,and wrapped around your back. The shine of your tears coat his bare chest, his chin rests on top of yours breathing in your hair shushing you gently.

You spend the night working Eddie’s rings from his already swollen fingers, pressing ice packs to his bruises and spreading neosporin on his cut lip, rubbing it gently with the tip of your finger, Eddie giggles at the concentration on your face and the way your tongue is poked out.

He’s infatuated with the way you make him feel. His heart soaring higher and higher with each delicate touch of your fingers on his skin.

He’s up late that night, stomach full from your homemade chicken noodle soup and his heart even more full. Flying higher than cloud nine, your sweet face on his mind.

-

[Thanksgiving]

A sadistic voice echoes from your tv screen, “a little young for ya isn’t she Richie? BEEP BEEP RICHIE!”

Richie Tozier sips the Dixie cup of water, leaning against the bookcase in the Derry library, Pennywise continues his antics of torture as balloons drop from the ceiling, popping with blood spluttering on the library go-ers faces, oblivious to the fantasy nightmare Pennywise ensues.

The front door opens with a thud as a shriek and the popcorn bowl on your lap goes flying through the air. Eddie walks hurriedly through the door. A shivering spine of fear and realization hits you all at once. His boisterous laugh reverberates the living room walls as he picks popcorn from your hair, and places it in his mouth, a loud crunch between his teeth as he plops down next to you on the couch.

“Think you got your holidays mixed up, sweetheart— it’s Thanksgiving, Halloween was last month.”

Rolling your eyes you make a face to mock him, which only fuels his fire and has his cold fingers jabbing into your sides and tickling you so hard you scream out. Begging him to stop.

“Don’t!,” you squeal, holding your breath and giggling at his unrelenting tickling. He finally gives up after your face has gone red and your hair is a mess, laughing tears rolling down your cheeks.

Eddie sits back on the couch taking a huffing breath, a wild smile spreading from ear to ear, “that’s what you get for watching IT without me!”

Scoffing, you pick up the bowl of popcorn and the paled yellow crunchy kernels spilled on the ruby red throw blanket, “wait, weren’t you supposed to be camping with your uncle tonight?”

Eddie breathes out a sigh, bending at the waist to gather the kernels off the floor. The rest of the fishing trip with Wayne, Eddie spent it quieter than he had ever been, contemplating his next move, how could he show you that he was serious? How could he let you in? Show you his ugly past without scaring you, without you running for the hills? The answer was easy.

“I have something— somewhere I wanna show you,” he whispers, standing to his full height. Looking for the familiar mischievous glimmer in his eye, you are surprised by the genuine sparkle replacing it. His face his earnest, almost a look of doubt on his lips, scared of your reaction.

He peels the blanket from your lap and reaches down, his hand held out extended to yours, “come with me?”

-

The air is bitter. The driveway is glittering with a sequined frost, dancing with the shine of the street lights. Warm breath fills the inside of Eddie’s van as he slots the key into the ignition and fires it up, cranking the heat. Snuggling further into your knitted scarf, hiding the chill of your nose as Eddie backs down the driveway, heading out of town.

It doesn’t take long to get to where he was going, the drive in silence had you questioning what was going on in his mind. The path was overgrown, hidden from the road, hidden from anyone who didn’t know that it was there. The headlights of the van bob along with each sunken hole on the dirt drive. Jostling the van this way and that.

Nestled into thick trees past an old loose and corroded barbed wire fence, in place for property lines, sits a small house, paint chipped and barely visible. The roof was caved in by a large tree falling on it, the sagging porch still had bleached yellow crime scene tape hanging on by threads to the moss eaten pillar.

Eddie throws the van in park, sniffling slowly and looking around. “This uh,” he stutters, clearing his throat, “this is where I lived with my mom, my old man was in and out most of the time—drunk or in jail, I don’t remember him being here that much except the last time.”

Silence is golden, and you give him your undivided attention as he twists in his seat, bent knee leaning on the door frame.

“That,” he says pointing to the fallen tree in the back, “was an apple tree, apples this big around I swear,” he motions his hands in a circle, a chuckle in his throat, “we didn’t live here for very long, a year, or two maybe…”

His voice fades, and at first he second guesses bringing you here. He can imagine you piecing this puzzle of woe together, his life. The tragic tale of Eddie Munson, he didn’t spin a web of luxuries for you to pretend with him for a moment, a second, that he was anything other than what he was—but when your cotton gloved fingers slide into his, interlacing them—it gives him the courage, the resilience to continue.

“…I was six when it— when she was… he—,” he trails off, unable to finish, but it doesn’t take a genius to connect the dots. The abandoned house, the barely-there flicker of yellow tape, she wasn’t only dead— she was murdered, by his father’s hand.

Comprehending what he’s getting at, you can practically hear his heart breaking. Eyes never leaving his face, you take him in, his eyes are wet as he blinks back tears, using his other hand to pinch the inner corners of his eyes, and hide behind his hair, his face is ashen, once ruddy cheeks from when he came home and tickled you is now swallowed by stale ash, sucking the life from his eyes, his cheeks, his soul.

“.. right in front of me…” he hangs his head low, sniffing quietly, “Wayne took me in after that.”

Eddie and you were alike in more ways than you had thought, although your parents were still alive, they were equally absent from your life, much like Eddie’s parents. Sure you both had people who took care of you, and as sweet as the gesture was, it was never really the same. The aching torture of having to defend for yourself, put a brave face on for your temporary care takers so you don’t seem like a bother to them, so they won’t worry about the weight of taking you in— was all too familiar.

“Eddie,” you whisper softly, rubbing his hands with your thumbs.

Yearning and breaking for him, the cords of your heart reach to his, tethering them together as you slide over the center council, and carefully land into his lap. He’s surprised at first by your brazenness, but once you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him into you, he melts like chocolate at your heated touch.

Your fingers tug into his hair at the nape of his neck, his nose and lips make their way in between your scarf and your neck, the slight chill against your skin sends goosebumps down your spine, a throbbing in your core.

Realization spreads through your heart, your brain, the hair follicles on your head, the painted nails on your toes. Holding him, him holding you, his arms around you, your arms buried in his hair, his fingers rubbing patterns into your back as he sighs deeply and regulates his breath—for the first time in your life, you realize this is what love feels like.

To be loved and to be in love. It was undeniable. Right? Friends didn’t do this. Roommates didn’t do this. But two people who cared deeply for one another and were bonded together by more than just traumatic circumstances? That was love.

In this moment, nothing else matters.

It’s just you and him.

Him and you.

The flutter of your heart short circuits as it seeps hot sticky love all over your face, blooming warmly in your cheeks. Grasping him tighter, you pull away, settling your forehead into his. Whiskey poured eyes staring back into yours, for a brief second you swear you can feel his heart flutter with yours, beating as one.

Eddie doesn’t play his music loud on the way back. A comfortable echoing still in the van as it clunks along the road. His voice barely above a whisper when he speaks. He feels satisfied. Happy even? Like the weight of the world was off of his shoulders by you simply knowing his past. You didn’t ask questions and in the moment he didn’t need you to. His arms wrapped around you was more than enough, your fingers twirling in his hair, the smell of your perfume behind your ear. The way you let him grieve, let him take you somewhere he hasn’t gone in years, was something he’d appreciate for a lifetime to come.

Once home it’s like any normal night, only he doesn’t tease you. He doesn’t fight over the bathroom or use your toothbrush, he doesn’t argue when you pop Christmas Vacation into the VCR, even though you can quote the entire movie. He’s completely engulfed by you, watching you brush your hair, the extra roll of the waistband of your pajama pants. The ridiculous colors of your fuzzy socks you insisted on wearing now that the weather was colder.

He’s never felt nervous around a girl before, usually throwing himself around, showing off his exquisite rack like a stacked buck in rut, rubbing his antlers on trees, showing his mighty dominance.

But you weren’t just another lonely girl looking for a night with a lead singer, or a girl pretending to be in love with him just so she could score coke from his supplier while also fucking him behind his back, and you definitely weren’t a faceless girl that he plowed to forget it all.

Meaning much more to him than just some silly fuck, or a high school “sweetheart” that ended up being a heartless cunt, or a dumpster for his cum.

No.

You were much more than that, to him.

More than a roommate, more than a friend, more than Eyeball’s bratty fucking sister.

He could write sonnets about the little lines in between your brow when you pulled your eyebrows together, usually when you were mad at him. He could sing songs about your laugh, not the small polite one, the loud one, the one that rang every doorbell to his heart and and he gladly answered. He could hum a tune of gratitude about your cooking and the silent ways you care for him and your close friends. He’d get his ass kicked by the entire male population of Hawkins if it meant keeping you safe.

You were it for him.

The only one to make him feel, the only one he wanted to see at the end of the day, in the morning when he got up.

Watching you giggle and let out a yawn, he places a couch pillow between his hip and yours gesturing for you to lie down. He almost goes into cardiac arrest when you move the pillow entirely, your head resting in his lap. A sleepy smile on your face as you tug the blanket under your chin.

Yup.

You were it for him.

And he's a sucker, addicted to the way you made him love you so effortlessly.

hope you all enjoyed this volume! volume ix is where it heats up 🔥

@big-ope-vibes @br0ck-eddie @b-irock @loveshotzz @mopeymopeymouse @shiftingtherain @courtingchaos @nightonblogmountain @word-wytch @ghost-proofbaby @hanobe8 @abibliophobiaa @joejoequinnquinn just a few of the coven 🩵🩷

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This is for you

*sacrifices 🖕🏼

[just-some-random-blogger]

He Tells Me

Masterlist

You've fallen into psychological stalemate with a man who does things for you without needing to be asked, and neither of you want to give up the last say.

Joel Miller x Reader | 1k+ | cw: fem!reader, fluff, overgiver!joel & yn, ellie 'JUST FUCKING KISS ALREADY' williams, typos, etc.

A/N: ive fallen into this song again. ITS SO JOEL CODED

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @multifandom-fangirl4

▶ ♪ Play touch tank by quinnie ♪ ◀

I love you isn't always I and Love and You; it isn't always the words that tumble out of your mouth or the lump that's stuck in your throat.

I love you isn't always a kiss and a hug; it isn't always the way lips brush against skin or chests press against chests.

Sometimes it's good mornings. Good morning, I love you. Did you sleep well, I love you. Have you eaten, I love you.

I love you, I did the dishes.

I love you, I fixed your faulty light.

Hey, let me carry that for you.

This reminded me of you, here.

I think you'd like this.

I love you.

But somehow, those I love yous read to you as you owe mes, and now, you were paying back every bit of your debt with blood, sweet, and a burnt hand.

Ellie opens the door and smiles, immediately calling your name and pulling you into a side hug. You lean into her embrace as much as the steaming casserole in your hand will allow you.

"You made it just in time for dinner!" she says, pushing you in with her.

You chuckle, "oh, Elle-machine. I'm just here to drop this off and-"

"Don't be silly," a voice cuts you off. Joel comes down from the stairs, barely glancing your way as he overtakes you both, heading for the kitchen. Still, you notice his faint smile and a shot of electricity ripples down your spine, a swell of warmth crawls up your ears.

Joel walks off, grunting as he did, "you're staying for dinner. End of story."

Ellie watches you be rendered frozen in your spot. She does not hide her grin, "he just called you silly."

You turn to her, finding the pot in your hand was feeling heavier, "... he did."

You and Ellie make it to the dining table and you set the food you prepared on a table next to the other dishes.

"Wow," you mutter, "roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and a salad," you look up at Joel, who was walking over with another pot. He sets the pot down as you turn to Ellie, "is it your birthday or something?"

"No," Ellie sit down with a smile, "Joel just knows I'm a growing child who needs her food."

You bring a hand to your mouth to hold in your giggles. Joel catches this and furrows his brows.

"Consider me jealous, honey," you tease her.

"Well, you could always move in with us," Ellie props her elbows on the table.

Before you can reply, Joel takes your hand, making both you and Ellie turn to him. Your heart pounds. His expression hardens as he takes in the cloth wrapped around your palms, "what happened to your hand?"

You watch him examine your hand a second too long. Joel looks back at out, ripping a response from your lips, "I- uh- the... the casserole."

Joel raises his brows, "you burnt your hand cooking?"

The worry in his brown eyes ate away at your heart. You clench your jaw, unwilling to admit you were a useless and bad cook, "... no."

Joel thinks back to the contents of the first aid kit in the compound.

"I- I was doing something with the pot and then I-"

"I think Tommy has burn ointment somewhere," Joel trails off, immediately releasing my hand and marching off.

Your stomach drops. You immediately catch his arm, "wait!"

Joel stops in his tracks, looking back at you.

"It's not a big deal!" you say through an airy chuckle, "I put it under running water for a while. I just put a wrap because it hurts when I-"

His hand, warm and gentle, coming atop yours cuts you off. Joel shifts in his spot; your ears perk, as they were sensitive to the sound of his boots. He gives you a look, a kind one, a patient one, a tender one, "it isn't a big deal. I'll be back in two seconds."

The moment Joel walks off, Ellie pipes up, "you should just take a seat. You know you can't argue with him. Well, I mean you can but that normally doesn't end up well." She pats on the empty chair beside her, "want to hear about what I did in school today instead?"

You release a soft breath and smile, "of course, darling."

When Joel came back, he announced there was no burn ointment, but he did find an ice pack. The only problem now, there was no ice. And so as the three of you began to eat, he explained he'd fix the broken ice cream freezer in the warehouse and make ice for you tomorrow. To which you said-

"You really don't have to," you shake your head, suddenly too embarrassed to get anymore food than you already had on your plate. You had one scoop of mashed potatoes.

Joel moves the bowl of mash closer to you then takes off the lid of one pot, "I meant to do it anyway. They found spare parts for it. Now I have a reason," he turns to you, "have some pasta. I made it for you."

Your eyes land on the pot. You begin to feel a nasty little feeling claw up your nape at the thought of Joel going out of his way for you. I mean, you made the casserole to repay him for helping you do your laundry, and if it wasn't bad enough that he saw your underwear, he made you food, one of your favorites. You offer Joel a smile, "thank you, Joel."

He reaches out to your for your plate. You hand it to him wordlessly. He mutters, "you're welcome, sweetheart."

Your lips part. He's never called you that before, only Ellie.

He stills the moment he has your plate in hand, "I- I mean-"

"NAH," Ellie cuts as she rips off a chicken leg, "you called her sweetheart. No take backsies."

Joel clears his throat as he puts pasta on your plate.

When you all finished eating, not a lick was left on your plates. You obviously insisted on washing the dishes and Joel countered you wouldn't be because you were a guest. The back and forth became so insufferable Ellie stepped up and volunteered, insisting instead that Joel walk you back home. You had no means to insist your way out of that.

And so you waited by the front door for Joel to get his jacket from the second floor. When he got it, the two of you headed out, walking quite leisurely.

"You know," you shove your hands in your pockets. You couldn't help it, "my house is literally, like, two steps away from here. You don't have to walk-"

Joel draping his jacket around your shoulders silence you. He pulls the thing by the collar, making sure it was snug on you, "yeah. All the more reason to walk you, since it's so close."

You watch him pull his pants up as he looks around. He offers, "but if it's a challenge you want, we can circle 'round the compound a bit before heading back to yours."

A warmth envelopes you, and it's not because of his jacket.

He turns to you when you don't respond, immediately blurting, "only if you want," he wipes his lips, "I'm not trying to make you do-"

"No, I know," you shake your head, "I know what you mean."

You and Joel look at each other in the quiet while walking. He takes a moment before nodding. He chuckles rather uneasily, "okay... good- that's good."

Seconds pass with just the sound of your footsteps between you.

You decide to say what's on your mind, "Uh," you turn to your feet.

Joel immediately locks his gaze on you.

"Next time," you purse your lips, "just leave the pasta to me."

Joel knits his brows. Damn.

"You know..." you look away, "like, I'm glad you invited me over and all, but you-"

"Was it that bad?"

You finally turn to him, "what?"

"Was my cooking that bad?" Joel feels his insides churn. He feels so stupid suddenly for not following the recipe to a tee. Damn his personal tastes.

You shake your head, "no. No! Your cooking was great! It wasn't bad at all. I enjoyed it. This isn't about your cooking."

He makes a face, "oh..."

You nod, clarifying, "I just- you don't have to do that for me."

He takes a moment to think. Oh... He snorts and rubs his nose, "ah... I see."

You knit your brows at that.

Joel's shoulder's slump. It was him then. Well, he doesn't blame you for not being interested. He releases a breath. It was stupid of him anyway. He thinks of a flimsy excuse to break the tension. It a horrible lie, "sorry, uh, it's just-- Ellie just really wanted to eat with you."

His words make you knit your brows deeper. You blink twice, "Ellie... wanted me to join?"

"Yeah," Joel huffs, "she thinks your great."

You nod slowly.

"But... if you don't want to eat with me, I'll make sure to-"

"Wait, what?"

The both of you stop walking.

Joel feels his insides disintegrate when you look at him the way you do. He looks away and clears his throat. Man up, "I... don't want to make you uncomfortable with any... unwanted advances."

"Wait," you quickly step forward. You rapidly shake your head, "no! I..." you raise your brows, "I just- I don't want to burden you with... with- d-doing things for me."

A deep line forms between Joel's brows, "burden? Who said anything about burdens?"

You look away as you continue to shake your head, "I- I don't know. I just- I don't want to bother you-"

"JUST KISS ALREADY!"

Both of you snap to the side There, from the second floor window, was Ellie, head sticking out of the window. She cups her mouth with her hand and screams again, "KIIIIIIIIIISSSSSSSSS!"

You look away from her. You turn to your feet as you feel your face burn.

Joel's loud voice surprises you, "GO TO BED!"

"I'M NOT 4!" Ellie screams back.

Joel decides to end the screaming match with a grumble, "well, you're damn acting like one." He turns back to you, "sorry about her, she's-"

"I really like you," you blurt when you look back at him, "I really like being around you."

Joel feels his fingers tingle.

Your impulsiveness only now begins to feel like a bad idea, "I-" your voice gets smaller, "it's not unwanted advances... not per se... It's just- when people do things for me, I don't- well, I don't know, I-"

"You can't just accept it?"

You stare at each other for a moment. You nod. Joel nods too.

"I'm usually the one giving, ya know," you say.

Joel nods again, "I do. I feel the same way. I don't like needing to get help from anyone," he crosses his arms, "but, you know, being with Ellie... she's taught me that sometimes-"

"FUCKING KISS HER OLD MAN!"

You can't contain the snort that leaves your mouth. Joel shoots a glare to his side. Still, he breaks into a chuckle, "I'm gonna kill her."

Ellie makes a face and waves her hands, "NO! DON'T LOOK AT ME, LOOK AT HER! LOOK AT- oh my god he actually did it."

[featherwurm]

Dinnertime (something cooked by Gale out of a nice selection of what the group has found and bought) at camp Tadfool, and here's some headcanons I have on food preferences of the lot:

Shadowheart – Omnivorous and a little picky, she’s sort of figuring out what she likes again and as always enjoys flexing her opinions. Loves fruits and nuts, and has a surprising taste for rare meats. Sometimes forgets to eat or looses track in the middle of a meal without reminding.

Lae’zel – Likes meat, meat, and more meat. Will add some variety into that but gith are biologically highly carnivorous. Has a real like of Bauldiran seafood (especially octopus and crustaceans) as it’s more akin to what’s available on the astral plane and in Gith rations, but will gladly tear into a steak or kebab. She can eat an absolutely terrifying volume for her frame, which she says is also normal.

Astarion – Stuck on that good old liquid diet, he is right that blood taste can be affected by things like age, lifestyle, and species, but he’s honestly not that into the distinction (and he hasn’t actually tried enough sapient varieties in a thoughtful way to have any real taste for one vs another, plus it does all taste good to him.) While he’ll always wax poetic, honestly just a human in good health tastes best to him (despite Tav letting him drink off of her first, in retrospect her tiefling blood has a faint smokey/spicy taste he doesn't quite like as much.)

Wyll – A real cruiser and grazer, likes a nibble of this and a bit of that and some of this. He’s so used to camp rations and foraging it seems to have sort of translated into a real love of charcuterie. Tends to get into things before they are cooked for a nibble. Still quite mannerly about things and his mess kit is kept immaculate.

Gale – A meat and potatoes kind of guy. Big on pasta and noodles. He’ll eat his veggies but he prefers them smothered in cheese or cream sauces. A bit like a big kid, but he he has the cooking skill to pull off fancier versions of childhood staples (and, of course, cooks in good variety for the tadfool crew, quick to show off his skills and breadth of knowledge.)

Karlach – Member in good standing of the clean plate club. Likes pretty much everything you put in front of her, but her favorites are big rare cuts of meat, meat pasties and pies, and other easy sources of protein like eggs and cheese. Tieflings like/need a slightly higher proportion of meat proteins in their diet than humans, but aren’t as extreme as the Gith. Karlach still likes pretty much everything though, and gets excited over tasty fruit, veg, and herbs too.

Tav – Was a very picky eater as a child but has mellowed with age and experience and likes pretty much everything, although some textures still put her off a bit (she’ll grudgingly eat things like casseroles and things with wet bread, but she’s not a fan – although she doesn't outwardly gripe.) Has a big sweet tooth and is a real fan of a lil treat.

Bonus: Astarion, Shadowheart, Karlach, and Tav stop for a quick rest and have a snack of some foraged nuts (walnuts) and berries (raspberries.) I know walnuts that aren't removed from their skins make quite a mess, and Karlach's hands are getting quite stained:

Astarion can't enjoy much, but blood is mostly water and fresh water is always good.

[mamaestapa]

fluffy christmas morning with yoshi opening presents and watching movies ???

A Christmas Story|| Andrei Iosivas x reader

•pairing: Andrei Iosvias x reader

•summary: Spending a sweet Christmas morning with Yoshi

•warnings: none, just fluff

“Alright pretty girl,” Andrei said as he plopped down on the couch beside you, smiling as he looked at the matching pajama bottoms you wore, “you ready for your gifts?”

“Of course I am,” you said happily as you beamed at your fiancée, “are you?”

“Always.”

He leaned in and pecked your puckered lips, your nose scrunching up when he pulled away from you and smiled sweetly. Christmas morning with Andrei was always so special. You’ve been together for four years now, each year spending Christmas or Christmas Eve with each other’s families. However this year was different. You and Andrei got engaged in June, bought your own place in Cincinnati just a few miles from Paycor stadium in September, and now you were spending your first Christmas by yourselves in your own home.

The two of you were so excited to get to spend the holidays by yourselves this year now that you’re engaged.

You and Andrei took turns opening your presents from eachother, both of you being extremely grateful for all of the thought that was put into every gift. You had gotten Andrei a new pair of bose headphones, a chain with the number 80 on it, and his favorite cologne. Andrei got you a custom Bengals denim jacket that said “Mrs. Iosivas” on the back, a new kate spade hand bag, a black pair of Jimmy Choo pumps, and your favorite perfume.

After opening each gift, the two of you took turns taking pictures of the other holding up their gifts.

When Andrei opened the jewelry box that held his diamond 80 chain you swore you’ve never seen him smile that big before. He held up the necklace and grinned widely as you took a picture of him.

“Baby,” he gasped, looking at you with a smile, “I love this!” You chuckled softly at your fiancee. You loved how Andrei’s face lit up like he was a kid again each year on Christmas.

Andrei leaned in and gave you a sweet kiss. You hummed contently as he pulled away. “I can’t wait to wear this on game days. Thank you baby.”

“Of course,” you smiled, “I’m glad you love it.”

After opening your gifts and thanking each other many times, you cleaned up the wrapping paper as Andrei took the breakfast casserole you had prepared the night before, out of the oven. He scooped two large spoonfuls onto the plates in front of him, one for him and one for you. Andrei topped off your coffee cups before bringing the plates of breakfast back out to the living room.

“For you,” he said softly as he handed you one of the plates. You thanked Andrei sweetly as he sat down next you. “This looks delicious.”

You took a bite of the casserole, letting out a soft moan as the mixture of egg, bacon, potatoes, and cheese hit your tastebuds. “It’s very good babe,” you praised Andrei, who just chuckled as you continued, “who knew you could play football and cook.”

“Hey, I can’t take all the credit,” he poked your thigh with the back of his fork, “you helped me too.”

The two of you laughed as you went back to enjoying each other’s company and the delicious breakfast. As you ate your food and sipped on your coffee, Andrei turned on your favorite movie that played all day Christmas day—A Christmas Story. After finishing your breakfast you cuddled into Andrei’s side and laughed along with him as the two of you watched the classic Christmas movie.

Andrei stroked your arm softly as he placed a gentle kiss to your temple, “Merry Christmas beautiful.” You hummed softly as you snuggled further into your fiancé’s touch, “Merry Christmas Yoshi, I love you.”

“I love you more Mrs. Yoshi.” He teased, making you grin widely. He was such a tease, and you loved it. You brought your hand up to his chest, letting it rest there as you spent the rest of the morning on the couch watching your favorite Christmas movies.

Your first Christmas morning with Andrei in your new home was definitely a success.



hi loves!

my first ever blurb about yoshi! i hope you all liked it. i thought it was a cute idea🤍 i’m sorry i wasn’t able to get this out yesterday (or earlier today), i just got so busy on vacation lol.

i hope you all had a wonderful christmas. as always, thank you for reading and supporting me and my work! i love you all🫂🤍

[gallaghersgal]

hi! i'd like to ask prompt 🍽  ─  prepare the christmas dinner together  with single dad!carmy x younger reader (maybe in her mid 20s idk)

thank you <33 i love your writing

michellin star on the tree || carmen berzatto

pairing: single dad carmy x younger reader

warnings: literally none. not even a swear.

a/n: this is so so cute and i love carmy sm oh my god. implying that the reader is in grad school so like early/mid twenties.

heavy snowfall and harsh winds have shrouded the city of chicago in a gentle silence. you collect the extra plates that had been for sydney, natalie, richie and the rest and with one strong arm around bella, you lift the plates back into their place in the china cabinet.

the smells from the kitchen are delightful. ham, green bean casserole, mashed potatoes with gravy, all of it is so enticing. carmen's been in the kitchen all afternoon, cooking up a storm while you and bella had played in the snow until it got too thick and too cold for you both.

now you're safe and sound inside. after you'd changed bella into dry clothes and while you showered, the snow had continued to fall harder and harder. by the time you were done, skin dewy and hair pleated into neat braids, there was a severe weather advisory in place. just like that, your turn to host christmas dinner was effectively canceled.

bella had cried at first, of course, because what's christmas to a four-year-old without family and gifts? but you'd managed to calm her down with a cup of warm cocoa and a call to sydney, who promised to come by and play as soon as the weather allowed her.

bella says your name softly, tugging at your sleeve as you search the kitchen for flashlights and batteries. "whats up kiddo?" you ask.

"'m hungry," she whines, and you chuckle in response.

you're about to tell her the food's almost done, until carmy's taking his daughter right from your arms. "you're always hungry," he says, sitting her on the counter and tickling her tummy.

"daddy!" bella shreiks, kicking her little feet in self defense. "that tickles!"

"gotta tickle all the hungry outta ya, kid," carmy tells her.

you stand there looking on at the two of them. carmen, and his little angel. he's such a good dad to bella. it warms your heart to see him like this, all giggly and warm, loving in the most pure sense of the word.

when the giggles have subsided and bella's wiggled off the counter, carmy pulls you to his side. you rest your head against his, leaning on him and looking over the assortment of food he's prepared.

"i'm sorry you did all this for nothing," you tell him.

and of course he just shakes his head, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple. "not f'nothing, baby, for you. you work so hard at school, thought the least i could do for my little phd candidate was cook this big ol' christmas dinner."

"for me?" you ask softly, a smile tugging at your lips.

"all f'you, sweetheart. you an' bella, my girls." he hugs you tighter, pulling you so that your chest is against his own. "you're so good to us both. this is my way of sayin' thank you."

end.

[slasherhoe87]

🥧Slashers' Favourite Dish their S/0 Makes for Them🍲

Short and sweet. Just a little idea that popped into my head while watching Masterchef Australia

Feat. Brahms Heelshire, Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers (OG / Peepaw / RZ), The Sinclairs, Billy Loomis, Stu Macher, Harry Warden, Thomas Hewitt

BRAHMS HEELSHIRE

English Sunday Roast: pork roast with crackling, peas, yorkshire puddings, golden roast potatoes, roasted carrots, green beans and a boatload of brown gravy

Dessert? sticky toffee pudding

JASON VOORHEES

Cheesy Tuna Noodle Casserole - his mom made this dish for him all the time and he loved it

Dessert? lemon bars - another favourite of his that bring up the precious few good memories he has of his childhood

MICHAEL MYERS (OG)

Ground Beef Lasagna with extra white sauce

Dessert? pumpkin pie with a big dollop of vanilla cream

PEEPAW MYERS

Meatloaf with a side of creamy garlic mashed potatoes and roasted mix veg (its all easy on the teeth 😁😂)

Dessert? strawberry & rhubarb pie

RZ MICHAEL MYERS

Full Thanksgiving Dinner: roast turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, green beans, corn on the cob, dinner rolls, mix veg and lots of brown gravy and cranberry sauce (he remembers his mom when you make this and is flooded with good memories of her and him together)

Dessert? pecan pie

BO SINCLAIR

T-Bone Steak with a Loaded Baked Potato and Corn on the Cob as a side

Dessert? banana split

VINCENT SINCLAIR

Rump Steak with a Mixed Mushroom Sauce and a side of Sweet Potato Fries

Dessert? dark chocolate brownie with a scoop of mint ice cream

LESTER SINCLAIR

One-Pot Smoky Beans and Roadkill Meatball Stew

Dessert? ice cream sundae

BILLLY LOOMIS

Spaghetti Bolognaise with lots of Red Sauce

Dessert? chocolate lava cake - he likes watching the chocolate sauce spill out of from its middle

STU MACHER

Pepperoni Pizza

Dessert? birthday cake flavoured ice cream in a sugared cone with tons of sprinkles on top

HARRY WARDEN

Fillet Steak with a Red Wine Sauce, Garlic Parsnip Mash and Roasted Green Asparagus as a side

Dessert? black forest cake

THOMAS HEWITT

Chili Con Carne - likes it with ground beef you purchased from the butcher or with more... questionable ground "beef" - as long as you make it, he loves it

Dessert? peach cobbler

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Peña’s Anatomy, Chapter Seventeen:

pairing: surgeon au!javier peña x f!resident!reader (Lucky)

rating: E (18+ ONLY, this one is just fluff and smut yall, food play?, body worship??, oral (m&f rec), fingering, unprotected piv, Javi has a mouth on him)

wc: 5k

series masterlist | Javi P masterlist

Two Months Later

“Jav!” you called from the kitchen, your eyes locked on the veggies you were chopping for tonight’s Thanksgiving dinner you and Javier were hosting. Tonight was a big deal not only because of the holiday, but because this marked Mickey’s first outing since recovering from her surgery and you and Javi’s first ever big holiday together. You had your shifts for the week covered by a coworker and Javi had taken the week off solely because the thought of you at home—in bed—without him sounded like torture.

Rounding the corner from the living room, Javi walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your middle, his chin resting on your shoulder. “Yea, bebita?”

“Can you baste the turkey?” You set your knife down and turned your head and pecked his cheek. “Pretty please?”

“One condition,” he said, resting his hands on your hips so that he could turn you to face him, pinning you between his body and the counter. He brought his lips close to yours, smiling at the way you leaned forward to seek them out. “Gotta give me a real kiss.”

You grinned and crossed your arms over his shoulders, pulling him even closer as your lips molded together.

“Gotta get my fill before everyone gets here,” he mumbled as he pecked your lips. “Matter of fact—“ He pulled away to look down at his watch, finding that the two of you had at least another hour before anyone dared to show up. “Why don’t we go kill some time in the bedroom?”

“I have a feast to prepare,” you chuckled, lifting your hand to cover his mouth as he leaned in for another persuasive kiss.

“Can I at least have a little appetizer while you work?” he asked, flickering his eyes down to your lower half.

“Javi,” you laughed, playfully pushing him away. “We both know I can’t multitask while you’re doing that.”

“Because I’m so good at it?” he smiled, walking over to the oven to baste the turkey like you asked.

“And so humble,” you snarked.

“So what’s on the menu for tonight besides my beautiful turkey?” he said, his eyes focused on the slowly goldening skin of the turkey he’d insisted on being in charge of preparing.

“Mashed potatoes, mac and cheese, some roasted veggies, sweet potato casserole—“

“Oh,” he moaned at the mention of your world famous sweet potato casserole that you made for him for the first time last month. “Can you make extra of that? I want leftovers of the leftovers of the leftovers, bebita.”

You smiled at his enthusiasm, and nudged your head towards the fridge.

“Look in there and tell me if that’s enough,” you said.

Javi finished basting the turkey and tucked it back into the oven before heading over to the fridge and opening it to find two large rectangular pans of the casserole that you’d prepped the night before.

“God, I’ve never loved you more.”

After two hours of working on the feast, 2 p.m. rolled around and the first of your guests arrived at your door.

“Hey!” You greeted Mickey with a tight hug as though you hadn’t seen her in months when in reality you’d just been over to visit her last week. “How’re you feeling?”

“Really good, actually. The incisions have finally healed, the baby is doing good, I’ve got full range of motion in my neck again, and…” she said, smiling widely as she slowly lifted her left hand to show off the diamond on her ring finger, effectively causing your jaw to drop to the ground.

“Holy shit—“ Javi said, finally meeting you at the door. “That’s, uh…congrats, Mick.”

You turned to him with a suspicious look, unsure of why he looked pale as a ghost but chose to drop it in favor of getting the full engagement story from Mickey.

“Come inside and tell me everything, I’m stunned,” you said, pulling Mickey into the house with your arm looped around hers.

“It was pretty low key. Rich took me out to dinner a few nights ago to celebrate my recovery, or so I thought, and long story short, he proposed and I wanted to wait to tell you in person—“

“Congratu-fucking-lations, Mick,” you gushed, squeezing her arm. “He’s got great taste.”

“I doubt he actually picked it out,” Javi said, inserting himself into the conversation, earning a glare from you.

“Well, he’s the one who paid for it, all that matters to me,” Mickey quipped.

“Is Richard coming tonight?” you asked, leading her into the kitchen.

“No, he’s stuck at the hospital,” she frowned. “It’s his first shift back since my surgery, and honestly I didn’t understand you and Javi wanting to be around each other all the time until now. Now, it feels so weird to be somewhere without him.”

“Aw, she has a heart,” you teased.

Mickey glanced over her shoulder to check for Javi’s presence, finding him out in the backyard smoking a cigarette while McCartney ran around in the leaves.

“Speaking of Javi…is he in a bad mood or something?” she asked. “What was all that about?”

“I don’t know!” you whispered enthusiastically. “He’s been totally normal, maybe even a little extra-lovey dovey. I don’t know why he’s suddenly so…weird.”

“Well, you did say he wanted to propose.”

“You don’t think—“

“I think me and Richard accidentally stole his thunder,” she said, wincing.

“He wouldn’t propose to me in front of people,” you countered. “I’ve made myself clear on that point.”

“Well, I can’t think of anything else. Unless he’s secretly been in love with me this whole time and just got his heart broken,” she joked.

“That’s a good point. Does Richard eat ass? Javi eats ass. You might want to reconsider your decision,” you played along as you stirred the stuffing in a big pot.

“You know, Richard doesn’t go…down,” she blurted, earning a gasp.

“You don’t mean—“

“Yep,” she nodded. “But surprisingly, he gets the job done without it.”

You winced, shaking your head. “Everytime I learn something new about Dick Mann, I regret it.”

The sliding glass patio door opening signaled Javi’s entrance to the house, his scowl on unabashedly as he walked into the kitchen, smelling like smoke, to grab a rare beer for himself.

“Jav?” you called carefully, earning his eyes on yours. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged, though the dryness in his tone did little to persuade you.

“You sure? You look a little—“

“I’m fine, bebita,” he assured, walking over to press a kiss on your cheek. “Sorry I smell like smoke.”

“You wear it well,” you said, reaching to pinch his chin. “When’s your dad getting here?”

“I get to meet Peña Sr.?” Mickey interjected with a playful smile.

“He’s supposed be here any second—“

The doorbell rang as if on cue.

“I’ll get it,” Javi said, giving you one more peck before walking off to the front door.

“Is he like…is he like Javi? Brooding and grumpy?” Mickey asked in a whisper, making you smile.

“Javi’s not like that,” you argued playfully. “But yeah, Chucho and Javi are pretty similar. Chucho’s a little more friendly, I’d say.”

“Mija,” Chucho walked in with a hobble, resting on his cane as he made his way to you to give you a quick hug. “Smells good in here.”

“Thank you,” you smiled before gesturing at Mickey. “This is my friend Mickey.”

“Ah, the walking miracle,” he said, hobbling over to give her a handshake. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling much better, thank you,” she smiled. “Which one of these two broke HIPAA to tell you?”

“Javi,” he replied, selling out his sim instantly.

“You weren’t my client anymore,” Javi defended himself as he walked in. “Makes it a little better.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to sue you, Dr. Peña,” she said. “Although, judging by your house, I think you could survive it.”

“Oh! Speaking of fancy things, guess who finally got a car,” you said, smiling proudly.

“Is it here?” Mickey sprung up from her seat at the island.

“No, it’s still at the dealership because Javi insisted I needed to upgrade the tires and stereo—“

“You did,” he said. “Better to get it done now by the dealership than to have a mechanic upcharge you later.”

“What did you get, Mija?” Chucho asked, accepting a beer from Javi.

“I got a Honda,” you replied. “Nothing too fancy, but fancy by my standards.”

“I tried to convince her to get a Volvo or something like that, but—“

“But I’m not an attending yet and can’t afford car payment,” you reasoned.

“And she refuses to let me help,” he lovingly scolded, making eyes at you from across the room.

“I offered to by his truck—“

“That old thing?” Chucho asked, chuckling at the mere thought. “

“That’s what I said,” Javi agreed.

The doorbell ringing again signaled the arrival of your next set of guests: Connie, Steve, and their daughter Olivia.

“Y’all ain’t got the game on?” Steve asked as he got settled in the living room with Olivia and her toys, Javi and Chucho joining them while you stayed in the kitchen with Connie and Mickey to finish off dinner.

“Oh my god!” Connie squealed at the sight of Mickey’s ring before pulling her into the living room with her. “Steve, look at this rock on Mickey’s finger.”

Now all alone, your guests busy with conversation on the football game blaring on your living room TV, Javi snuck his way into the kitchen to join you for a moment of privacy.

“Hey,” he said, sticking his hands in his front pockets. “I wanted to talk about why I got so…weird about Mickey’s ring—“

“Oh no, are you actually in love with her?” you joked.

“What? God, no. No, I just…” He sighed, shaking his head with an embarrassed smile on his face. “I went ring shopping.”

“Oh?” you tried to veil your inner glee at the news.

“And I landed on one. Then, like an idiot, I showed Steve and Mann a picture of it, and—“

“Oh,” you said, meeting his eyes. “Javi, was that—“

“He stole my fucking ring,” he sighed and then chuckled. “I know it’s stupid, but I put a lot of thought and research into the perfect fucking ring for you, only to see it on Mickey’s finger at the door, and I just—“

“Oh, baby,” you cooed, walking over to him to slide your arms around his waist, your head resting on his chest.

“I had to smoke a cigarette to chill the fuck out about it,” he admitted, wrapping his arms around you.

“Jav, you could give me a ring-pop and I’d think it’s the most beautiful thing in the entire fucking world,” you said, lifting your head to look up at him. “Don’t put so much pressure on yourself.”

“I know, I just want it to be perfect,” he mumbled shyly, bringing an adoring smile to your face. You lifted your hand up to rest on his cheek, your thumb swiping over the coarse hair at the corner of his lips.

“Javi, I already have the most perfect thing in the world right here.” Javi leaned in for a slow kiss, each swipe of his lips and tongue against yours lighting sparks of arousal deep in your stomach, forcing you to pull away from him with a chuckle. “You’re going to distract me.”

“You’re always distracting me,” he said, brushing his thumbs over your hips. “Meet me in the bathroom for a quickie?”

“Can’t,” you smirked. “Dinner’s done.”

With everyone's stomachs stuffed full of turkey and stuffing and everything deliciously bad for the human heart, you sent them all off with a plate of leftovers aside from Chucho who was staying the night.

Your feet were sore from standing on them all day, and since Javi had already put away all the leftovers and stuffed the dishwasher full of every dirty dish in the house, you found yourself laying across the sectional with your feet in Javi’s lap, his hands working away every ache while he and Chucho poked fun at the fact that you were already forcing them into watching Elf.

“The holiday isn’t over yet, mija,” Chucho said, tipping his beer back for a sip.

“Shh, just pretend it’s midnight,” you replied, your voice thick with exhaustion.

“Yeah, pops. Best if we just go along with it, otherwise it’ll just get worse,” he teased, shooting you a playful look.

You were too busy admiring him to come up with any sort of clever response, his tousled hair, unbuttoned jeans, navy blue sweater and strong hands making it hard to pay attention to anything but him.

“You sleepy?” he asked, running his hand along your shin soothingly, as if he had no clue of the dirty thoughts starting to whirl around in your mind.

“Yeah, I should probably go to bed,” you said, hoping that he could pick up on things without you needed to tell him.

“Well, if she’s going to bed, you and I can watch that Western I was telling you about,” Chucho said. Javi’s eyes softly closed shut, as if he was gathering his patience.

“How about we watch it tomorrow, pops? I’m exhausted—“

“Yeah right,” Chucho chuckled, looking at the two of you suspiciously before standing up. “Thank god the guest room’s on the other side of the house.”

“Good night, Chucho!” you called, wincing in embarrassment at the way he saw right through you and Javi.

“Good night, mija. Good night, Javi.”

“Night,” Javi called back before turning to you with a chuckle. “I didn’t even realize you were trying to fool around. I really thought we were gonna go to bed.”

“Your dad picked up on it easily enough.” Javi laughed again and nodded before shifting on the couch to crawl on top of you, your thighs parting to welcome him. You admired him for a minute as he hovered above you, your fingers carding through his hair. “I love you like this.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “You just look very cozy and at home.”

“I am cozy and at home,” he said. “And stuffed full of your sweet potato casserole.”

“Was it good?”

“Not nearly as good as what I’m craving right now,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your jaw. You giggled, pushing him away so that you could speak.

“Maybe we should take this into the bedroom seeing as we have a guest,” you said, trailing your hands up underneath his sweater to feel the smooth, warm expanse of his stomach. Javi rested his forehead against yours and sighed contently at your touch, his hips pressing into yours.

“Yeah, let’s go while I can still think straight,” Javi rasped, lifting himself off of you and tugging you onto your feet, walking you around the corner and down the hallway to the bedroom with his hand clasped with yours. The minute he opened the door, he had you pressed against it, his mouth on yours while one hand pinned both of yours to the cool wood. “I wanna try something tonight.”

“W-what?” you managed, still breathless from his kiss.

“Nothing too crazy,” he smiled. “Go lay down, I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” you replied with a hesitant chuckle, watching him from over your shoulder as he walked out of the room and down the hall towards the kitchen. Stripping out of your clothes, you rested yourself in the middle of the bed on your side, playfully replicating Burt Reynold’s iconic centerfold.

When Javi returned, he carried a can of the whipped cream you used for the pumpkin pie earlier, a grin on his face as he took you in.

“Waiting for your cover shot?” he asked, setting the whipped cream on the nightstand so that he could strip out of his own clothes. “Actually—“

“What?” you giggled, watching his bare ass as he walked over to his closet to grab his polaroid camera. “No, I’m bloated and—“

“Shut your pretty mouth,” he ordered with a smile, holding the camera up to his eye. “Smile, baby.”

You begrudgingly obliged, resting your hand over your stomach to try and hide the swell of it, but Javi sucked his teeth in response.

“Move that out of the way,” he commanded, waving his hand at you. “It’s ruining the shot.”

“Javi,” you laughed. “My stomach is ruining the shot.”

“Do I have to put something in your mouth to stop ridiculous shit like that from coming out?” he asked. “You’re beautiful. I love you like this.”

Suddenly, it all clicked for you. You loved Javi the most when he was undone and comfortable and satisfied, why wouldn’t he feel the same towards you?

“I love you,” you said, moving your arm to give him the shot he wanted now that your insecurities seemed to vanish. Clicking the camera, he lowered it from his eye and set it down on the nightstand to let the polaroid develop while he climbed onto the bed and rolled you over onto your back.

“I love you,” he replied, sitting back on his ankles between your open thighs, his hands smoothing over the inside of them. “And I can’t wait to fucking suffocate between your thighs. That’s my ideal way to go, I think.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you chuckled, reaching to grab his neck to tug him down to your lips, his hands holding him up as his tongue swiped across yours, his cock slowly sliding over your folds pulling a moan from his chest.

“Fuck,” he hissed as the head of it caught your entrance. “You’re distracting me from my plans.”

“Then hurry up and get on with them,” you purred, lightly scratching the baby hairs at the nape of his neck.

Javi let out a puff of amusement and kissed your lips one more time before making his way down your jaw and neck, giving ample attention to that sensitive spot you love for him to nip at. You felt him reaching over for the whipped cream before he pulled away completely, popping the lid off the can and shaking it in his hand.

“You’re already sweet, but I figure since it’s a holiday and you made me wait so long for dessert, I should treat myself,” he said, smirking as he pressed the nozzle over the stiffened peaks of your nipples, creating two messy dollops of whipped cream over them. “Look at you…”

You batted your eyes at him as you used a finger to scoop up some of the cream, wrapping your lips around it and sucking it clean with an exaggerated pop just to feel his cock twitch between your thighs.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he groaned, lowering his tongue to the half-cleaned mountain of whipped cream to get a taste for himself. Your breath hitched as you watched him greedily clean up the mess he created, sucking your peak into his mouth while his eyes locked with yours.

“Fuck, Jav,” you moaned, the softness of his tongue against your sensitive skin giving your brain a rush of dopamine.

Javier’s hand spread wide over your stomach and ribs, warming your skin up as he licked a trail over to your other breast to give it the same slow, teasing treatment. Bringing the can back, he drew a straight line from your sternum down to your belly button and used wet, messy kisses to clean off the cream before licking a broad stripe back up to your neck. You caught him while he was still close enough to kiss and pulled him in, licking over the excess sweetness on his lips and tongue before using all your strength to roll him over onto his back so that you could have your turn at worshiping him.

“What are you doing?” Javi laughed, resting his hands on the top of your thighs as you drew a heart with the whipped cream over his broad chest.

“You got to have dessert, why can’t I?” you purred, lowering your tongue slowly to the cream while he watched you with a slack jaw. You traced the heart with your tongue and kissed away any remainders before scooting lower on the mattress until your lips were pressing teasingly chaste kiss to the underside of his cock that rested against his stomach.

“Baby, fuck,” Javi moaned, using one hand to cradle your face. Drawing a line of whipped cream from the head to his balls, Javi waited with bated breath for you to clean it all up, your lust-drunk eyes locked on his as you started at his balls. He hissed in pleasure as you sucked each of them into your mouth at a time before letting them go with a pop to focus on his shaft. Spreading your tongue flat and wide, you slowly licked his shaft clean of any of the sweet, airy cream before gripping him at his base and taking the head into your mouth. “Oh, fuck.”

“You taste so good,” you purred as you let him go to stroke him in your palm.

“Baby, I want to taste you,” he begged, giving you those round eyes of his that always got him his way.

“Then come get it,” you taunted, prompting him to practically throw you onto your back, the mattress bouncing from the force as you giggled at his display of strength until you felt his tongue flatten over your folds. “Oh, shit, Javi.”

“Not laughing now, are you?” he smirked, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh before going back to your cunt, his tongue working you up slowly and gently until he decided your clit was ready for some attention. Your fingers gripped his cropped hair to hold him against you, giving him little room to breathe, not that he minded in the slightest.

“Right fucking there, baby,” you purred, locking eyes with him from across the expanse of your body. “Don’t stop.”

“Sweeter than the whipped cream,” he mumbled, kissing your clit before sucking it into his mouth until your thighs were shaking.

“Fuck, Javi…you’re perfect,” you moaned, letting your head fall back against the mattress. “Want your fingers.”

“Yeah?” he rasped, his tone teasing. “How many, baby? One?” Your breath hitched as he slipped his pointer finger inside of you, slowly working you open until he was hooking it up towards your favorite spot. “Two?” He added another and earned a wanton mewl that you quickly silenced with your hand over your mouth, your brows scrunched in pleasure at the thick width of his skillful fingers. “Can you take three?”

“Yes, fuck, please,” you managed, spreading your legs even wider out of sheer need to let him take all of you, whatever he wanted.

Javier’s thick fingers curved into you, the room filling with vulgar wet sounds as he targeted that spot inside while swirling his tongue over you until your entire body was shaking with your impending release. He wore a grin the entire time as you whispered chants of praise and used his name like he was your lord and savior.

“Come on, baby,” he purred, sucking your clit into his mouth just right. Your hands clawed at the comforter for purchase as your brain went fuzzy with euphoria, every nerve in your body singing his name. “There you go. Such a good fucking girl—“

“Javi, fuck me,” you begged, still lost in your climax. Your hands reached for his strong arms to pull him on top of you, not that he needed any persuading. Javi was quick to mold his lips to yours as he gripped his weeping length at the base, lining it up with your still pulsing heat before sinking in all the way in one slick thrust.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he hissed, his face falling into the crook of your neck as his hips worked on their own accord, snapping into yours like he needed to in order to survive. “Baby, shit,” he whispered into your ear before nipping at your earlobe. “You’re so fucking wet. Do you hear that?”

Both of you silenced your moans and pants for a moment to hear the sinful squelch of his cock moving in and out of you, the sound alone making you whine and rest your hands on his ass to pull him impossibly closer. Javier managed to compose himself enough to sit up on his knees, rolling you onto your side while he was still inside of you. You gasped at the new position, the way he hugged your leg to his chest as he straddled the other, his cock pressing in so deep you swore you could feel him in your stomach.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he grunted, bringing one hand down to slap your ass just hard enough for it to sting pleasurably. “Look at you. All fucking mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Javi, fuck,” you cried, your face ruined with pleasure as he inched you closer and closer to your second release with his voice.

“You like the way I fit inside you? The way I make you cum, baby?” he asked, a proud smile on his face as he watched your face scrunch even more.

“Javi, I’m so close,” you whined, reaching to grip his forearm. “Please don’t stop.”

“Not gonna stop, baby,” he assured, kissing your ankle as it rested on his shoulder. “Not gonna stop until we cum together, alright? You feel so fucking good. Always feel so fucking good.”

“Javi!” you cried, unable to control your volume even with the looming knowledge that Javi’s father was just on the other side of the quiet home.

“That’s it,” he purred, slowing his thrusts as your cunt squeezed him so tight that he had no choice but to join you in your ecstasy. “Fuck.”

You hardly had a minute to catch your breath before McCartney’s paw began scratching at your door, a chuckle slipping from Javi’s lips as he let your leg drop from his hold, his chest heaving from exertion.

“Forgot about our son,” he panted, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as you remained spent and curled up on your side. “Gotta pull out,” he warned, a hiss slipping from both of your lips as he carefully slid out of you, Javi’s eyes glued to the spend that dripped out of you in turn. “Fuck. I’m glad we took the week off.”

You laughed, rolling over onto your back with a satisfied smile, your head turning to follow him as he slipped on a pair of briefs and flannel pajama pants before opening the bedroom door up for McCartney.

“Hi, Macca,” you rasped, welcoming the dog onto the bed with a scratch behind his ears.

“Sorry kid, Mommy and daddy were wrestling,” Javi said, slipping under the covers on his side of the bed. Willing yourself up, you winced at the feeling of Javi’s spend leaking down your thighs as you walked to the bathroom to relieve yourself and clean up a bit before putting on your usual sleep clothes and tucking in beside your two favorite boys.

“That new position,” you started, rolling onto your side to watch as Javi pet McCartney as he laid in between the two of you.

“Good?”

“Really good,” you said, smiling at the way your cunt still pulsed with aftershocks. “And your dirty talk.”

“Yeah? You like my voice, bebita? Like it when I’m cocky?” he teased, shooing McCartney down to the foot of the bed so that he could fill the gap between your bodies, his lips pressing against yours in something slow and sensual.

“I like when you’re cocky in the bedroom,” you corrected with a smirk, tracing the line of his jaw with your fingertip. “Did you have a good Thanksgiving?”

“I had the best Thanksgiving,” he said, pecking your forehead. “How about you?”

“I had a really, really good day,” you smiled. “And I’m glad you didn’t propose to me in front of everyone on a holiday.”

“Was that really on the table?” he chuckled.

“Mickey thought that’s why you were so sour about her engagement,” you replied.

“No, I know you too well by now to think that you’d be into something like that,” he said. “I’m not into a huge public proposal either. Too many people watching me be happy, doesn’t sit right.”

You laughed and nodded, understanding him completely.

“I don’t really even want a huge wedding,” he continued. “Just the people who really matter.”

“That’s exactly what I want. Something tiny, here in our backyard or at your dad’s ranch,” you said. “Just me and you and like ten other people.”

“I love you,” he said, leaning in to kiss you again. “And I’m gonna get the ring right, and then I’m going to propose right, and then I’m going to marry you right. If that’s the only thing I do right in this lifetime, that’s fucking plenty.”

“Dr. Peña, I am so glad I fucked you in that on call room half a year ago,” you beamed, curling into his warmth and resting your head on his chest. “That’ll forever be the best irresponsible decision I’ve ever made.”

“We were just kids back then,” he chuckled. “Or at least I was.”

“I think if we were to go back and time and tell them everything that we’ve been through, they’d call us fucking idiots.”

“Younger Javi wouldn’t buy it solely because I still don’t know how I ended up with you,” he said, his voice raspy as he dozed off. “But I’m fucking glad I did.”

“That makes two of us,” you said, kissing his chest where his heart beat. “Love you.”

“Love you, bebita.”

[honey-minded-hivemind]

A reader with wings, but instead of big, fluffy angel wings or leathery, sharp bat wings, they got beautiful, delicate fae wings.

While they aren't anywhere near as fast as Peter, they can still zip around on the battle field, making them hard to hit and harder to catch.

The wings themselves are translucent but full of colors. When the sun hits them just right, a kaleidoscope of light shines out. But they aren't just for show, no no no no! They are razor sharp despite being so thin. It's like getting a paper cut from the world's longest sheet of paper.

The fairy comparison doesn't end there, because they can shrink down to fae size! They can be travel sized for your convenience! No room in the quinjet? They can chill in someone's pocket. Not enough seats in Scott's car for a snack run? They'll sit in the cup holders, just don't squish them with your soda. Playing hide and seek? You'll never win cause Reader shrunk down and is hiding in the cookie jar. Room in the mansion gets destroyed, and they got no where to sleep? Set up a Barbie Dreamhouse in someone else's room and they r good to go.

They got a super green thumb and can be found in the greenhouse with Storm growing the weirdest plant hybrid ever. Their powers let them get real down close to the dirt and stems to see if anything is wrong. Though now they are waging a mini-war on the snails and squirrels that keep ruining their garden.

If you wanted to take it a step further, you could make them able to control plants, give them twisty vine hair, and give them pheromones. Instead of animal pheromones, they're plant pheromones, so they work a little differently, but still follow the same concept. Reader smells all floral instead of the musk the ferals have, but they could still track their bby down if they fly away.

Aaaawwww, fae mutant Reader!!! Super creative and cool! They're like the personal garden fairy, but a cut from their wings stings like a wasp!

They're great with hiding and doing missions where they need to spy or gather intel. They shrink down to an easier size, slip in, and simply stay still and listen in as long as it is safe to do so. They need to get away quick? Reader can fly them to safety, just one at a time, though! Someone tried to launch a weapon or hit at Reader's teammates during a battle or riot? Reader is using their wings to deflect anything, or cutting the person who tried to throw a punch. The garden needs an extra set of hands to keep it pest-free? Never fear, Reader will look for any mold, rot, or pests, and get rid of the problem!

They smell sweet, like roses or honeysuckle or lavender, and are beautiful, almost ethereal. Whenever the teens go out, they're making sure no one tries to get near Reader or mess with them, and Reader returns the favor. If someone makes sweet potatoes or a sweet potatoe casserole or sweet potato fries, Reader is right there, ready to taste test them! If anyone needs help lifting boxes or books, or washing dishes, or cleaning up, Reader is there to help!

(They're such a helpful bean, and the teens like hanging out with them, finding them thoughtful and a delight. The adults appreciate their helpful attitude, and do make sure to tell them they're being a big help. It's hard to feel upset with fae mutant Reader, as they're overall a helpful, thoughtful person who is quick to help and doesn't mind spending time with others)

(Cute idea, @sugar-soda! Fae mutant Reader is a delight! Which other mutations did you want to explore? Or any possible parent secret parent plot twists? I hope you're doing well! Thank you for sharing your ask!)

[rjmartin11]

Hide and Go Seek One Shot

Pairing: Elvis & female!reader

Summary: Elvis had been away from you for far too long, and you want to play with him in more ways than one.

Word Count: ???

Warnings: Material is not suitable for under 18 years of age. Viewer discretion is advised!

Author's Notes: Hello, world. RJ here. I'm just passing through with a one-shot that's been on the shelves of my mind for a while. I'm retired from writing, but I wanted y'all to have this. Something dirty. Enjoy.

・ʚ♡ɞ・・ʚ♡ɞ・・ʚ♡ɞ・・ʚ♡ɞ・

It's been a full thirty-five days since Elvis left on his cross-country tour, and you missed him deeply. Even though he calls every few days to let you know where he is and how the shows are going, you need him around. His physical presence keeps you humble.

Although you have your hands full with a one year old baby boy. You want his daddy around to play with both of you. You feel like Elvis would have missed his first steps if he didn't walk in through the door that very moment.

He called you last night stating that he'd be home today. You haven't truly slept since the call. It only mattered that baby boy had rest, so he could play with daddy. You made sure he was fed and bathed.

You started cooking immediately for your weary traveler and his band of soldiers. All of Elvis' favorite dishes were to be made with exceptions. Fried chicken, barbecue chicken on the grill, potato salad, mustard greens, mashed potatoes with Smoky Mountain gravy, black-eyed peas, macaroni and cheese, cream onion casserole, and cornbread. For dessert, banana pudding, sweet potato pie, and Ms. Mary's chocolate cake.

You scrambled all over the kitchen with Ms. Mary and Ms. Nancy came in to help with the load. You worked a full six hours in preparation for your love to come home to a great meal. You knew the meals on the road consisted of junk food, so this had to be special.

As you started to slow down a bit, Ms. Nancy asked you to go upstairs and rest. You didn't want to fall asleep on Elvis, so you did as asked and slept for a few hours.

"Mama???" You hear his little voice from down the hall and open your eyes. "Mama???"

You rub the sleep out of your eyes and head to his room. You creep slow around the corner as you hear him continue to call your name. You peek your head in the door, and he starts to giggle. Your son has his daddy's contagious gift of laughter.

"Is that my little Garon?" You ask.

"Mama!" He says with excitement in his voice.

"Hi, Mama's baby boy. Mama's handsome baby boy," you say, taking him out of his crib.

You get him ready for the day, and you both head downstairs. The ladies have taken care of dinner just as promised. You hand Garon off to his Great Aunt Delta and Great-Grandma Dodger so you can finish getting dressed for Elvis' arrival. You take a quick shower and get your hair and makeup ready for him. You want to look irresistible for your love.

As you put the final touches on mascara, you hear a big commotion downstairs.

"Daddy's home," you say to yourself, finishing up.

You run out of the room and to the staircase just in time to see Elvis look up at you. His smile lights up the room, and your glows.

"Hello, Mrs. Presley," he says, greeting with Garon in his arm.

"Hello, my husband," you reply, walking down the stairs.

He walks up to you with his free arm open to you. You embrace him gently as your son is in his other arm. He kisses your head and whispers he missed you. You tell him how much you miss him and how glad he's home.

Everybody crowded into the kitchen to get a plate. You made Elvis' and Garon's plates first, and then everyone piled in for their plate. Ms. Nancy made you a plate, so you sit and eat.

For the next thirty to forty-five minutes, the house was alive with laughter and conversation. Everyone talking about the tour and their adventures on the road.

"All in all," Elvis starts, "it was an amazing trip. This tour was great. Now, I'm just grateful to rest for the next three months."

"Rest? My husband wants to rest?" You ask.

"Yes," he answered. "Traveling around the country is fun, but I wanna rest."

"I guess you can wait on that surprise I have for you," you whisper in his ear.

"Surprise??? Baby, you didn't have to get me anything."

"I wanted to," you say, kissing his cheek. "Get rid of the boys and come find me upstairs."

You pick up Garon and walk toward the door. You bid everyone good night. Your sister drops by and takes Garon home with her, so you and Elvis can have Graceland all to yourselves.

You go upstairs and wait for him on the bed. You waited six months, so another fifteen to thirty minutes wouldn't hurt.

You peek out the window as everyone leaves out the front door, piling into their cars. Elvis tells everyone goodnight and thanks them for everything. He turns and looks up at the window. He sees you staring back at him and smiles the notorious smile of his. You bite your lip and close the curtain.

Seconds later, he's up in the room looking at you sitting on the bed.

"My pretty little Satnin. How I've missed you," he whispers as he crawls on top of you.

"I missed you, E," you whisper back.

He starts passionately kissing. You start slipping your fingers in his hair as he does so, kissing him back. You've longed for this moment for six, dreaded long months.

You roll yourself on top of him and push yourself off of him. You stand in front of him and begin to undress. Elvis watches in awe of you. As you slip out of your panties, cock begins to tent in his pants.

"You missed me, E?" You ask.

"Can't you tell?" He asks back.

"Then why are your clothes still on?"

Without another thought, Elvis starts to unbutton his shirt and undo his belt. Pulling his pants down off of his hips, disposing them to the floor. His cock sits up long and hard before you. All the things you want to do his penis. All the things you've longed to do to his penis.

You bow in front of Elvis. Not allowing him to wait another moment to start to suck him off at the head of his cock. His head falls back, and he moans your name. You only do this for a few seconds until you get off of your knees. You gently climb on top of him until you both are face to face, kissing one another. Elvis rubs your back. Followed by your ass. Then, he slides his fingers in between your legs to your vaginal lips, gently stroking your clitorus. You indulge in the feeling a moment.

Then Elvis pumps his cock a few times, attempting to penatrate you. You stop him and whisper,

"I wanna play a game."

"What?" Elvis asks confused.

You crawl off of him, standing before him and repeat,

"I. Wanna. Play. A. Game."

Elvis, reluctant to your quips, answers you as he gently strokes the throbbing in his dick.

"What kind of a game, Y/N?"

"Hide and Go Seek. In the house. Naked."

Elvis, wide eye, pops his head up to look at you.

"A... w-what? Hide and seek in the house naked?" He answers.

You nod your head enthusiastically. The smile never leaves your face. You squeeze your legs at the thought of him catching you. It makes you wet.

"Y/N, baby. Garon? What if he needs us?"

"He's with his aunt. He'll be with her for the rest of the night."

"Mary? Nancy?"

"I gave them the night off. They helped me cook your welcome home dinner. They earned it."

"Dodger? Aunt Delta?"

"E, everyone is gone. Graceland is all ours for the evening. Surprise."

Elvis smirks to you with that infamous smirk that makes your heart gallop, your knees quiver, and pussy drips. Elvis sits up on the bed, looking at you like he could eat you alive.

"You have twenty seconds to hide before I stuff my dick so far up your pussy they hear you scream on Beale Street," Elvis says.

"That's only if you can catch me," you laugh, running out the door and down the stairs.

"One!" Elvis shouts, standing from the bed.

"Two! Three!" He continues to shout.

Elvis gets quiet as he starts searching the house for you. He walks downstairs, allowing the soft carpet to massage his bare feet. He quietly looks in the living room, and he even takes the extra steps to see if you're hiding in the music room. He'd love to fuck you on top of the piano.

He walks into the dining area and checks under the table. He makes way into the kitchen, silently searching for you. He rubs the ache in his dick, begging for a release only you can prove.

"Y/N?" He calls out to you. "Oh, Y/N. Where are you?" He asks.

He walks towards the Jungle Room, but there's still no sign of you. It doesn't make him mad. It only makes him want you more. He so enjoys the chase.

"Oh, you are so good at this, Y/N," he says. "I'm going to find you, and I'm going to fuck you so hard that you'll be begging me to stop."

You start to giggle but quietly move downstairs. Elvis heard you and ran to the sound of your voice.

"Baby, no cheating now. If you left the house, that's cheating. You want the public to see you. That beautiful, naked body of yours."

*ring* goes the phone.

Elvis looks at the phone confused. Who could be calling you and him right in the middle of your game. Hesitant, Elvis picks up the phone and answers.

"Hello?"

"I didn't leave the house," you say over the phone.

"Y/N, you naughty girl. You deserve a spankin'."

"Don't threaten me with a good time."

"Once I get my hands on you..."

"Talk is cheap, Presley."

"Tell me where you are."

"Where's the fun in that?" You answered him. "You're so close, E."

"Give me a hint."

"Well, there are six phones in the house. One in your study. The kitchen. The bedroom. The living room. And the other two are... E?"

Elvis goes quiet. Dead quiet to the point that it scares you. Then you realize he knows where you are!!! He knows you're downstairs! You drop the phone and try to make a run for it, but he grabs you as you get to the doorway. You yell with excitement.

You back away from him. You made him wait to pleasure you too long. He's sex deprived, hungry, and needy for you. You can see the lust in his eyes. Where the color of his eyes was once a clear blue, you now see a stormy dark gray.

"Now, E..." You say trying to calm him down.

"Silence," Elvis says, backing you up to the sofa.

You run away from him further into the den of the room, but he's right behind you. He grabs you and lays you face down on the sofa. He slaps your ass a few times cause moans to escape from your lips.

"Bad girl," Elvis says, through clinched teeth.

*smack*

"Making me wait to fuck you."

*smack*

"Not allowing me to take what's rightfully mine."

*smack*

"Awe!" Is all you can muster up.

The action makes you wetter. You start to hump the couch as another smack lands across your backside. Elvis has your hands where you can please yourself, so you fuck the sofa.

He forces his hand upon your ass once more, then he raises you ass in the air where you can't grind the sofa.

"Elvis, please," you beg.

"Elvis, please!" He mocks you, placing another smack to your rear end.

Then, without warning, he stuffs himself inside your pussy from behind. You let out such a moan at the penatration and pleasure that fulls you up. Holding your sides, he pounds his rock-hard dick inside with fervor. You delight in the feeling of being one with him.

With your hands free, you waste no time placing your fingers on your clit to work yourself into a frenzy. He pumps into you for a few minutes until he pulls out of you, turning you around to fuck you from the front.

He hungrily kisses your lips and makes his way down your neck. He takes his time going down to your breast, giving them special treatment. You moan at the sensation of his lips on your skin. They're like two plush clouds massaging you.

Elvis bites your left nipple causing you to scream. He looks at you with that devilish grin and licks the ache away. He sits up for a moment, and you take this opportunity to kiss him. You push him on his back, mounting his cock. He helps you line yourself up with his cock, and pulls you down to relieve the ache of pleasure. You both moan at the first stroke of each other.

You begin to ride his penis like you're on saddle back. You start slow at a slow trot and pick up the pace into a full gallop. Your heart has been racing since the beginning of your little game. But it's nothing compared to the way it races with Elvis inside you. You love this man so much.

He pushes himself inside you just right where he hits your g spot, and your moans fill the room. You are so blissed out from ecstasy that you tumble on top of him. He holds you closer than a toddler holds his or her teddy bear.

You both lay there quietly, just enjoying each other's company.

"Baby," Elvis says, "That was the best game of hide and seek I've ever played. I never knew running around Graceland naked could be such fun."

"Oh, I did, E. I knew," you say, wrapping his arm around you.

"So, what's the next game, Y/N?" He asks, kissing your head.

"I'm sure you'll think of something."

Taglist: @missmaywemeetagain @beeandheroddobsessions @headfullofpresley @everythingpresley @epforeverohyes @vintagepresley @pianginferno @powerofelvis @ab4eva @foreverdolly @searchingforgravity @thatbanditqueen @daffieapple @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @epsgirl @richardslady121 @literally-just-elvis-fics @eptodaytommorowforever @vintageshanny @iloveelvis @dreamingofep @aliypop @littlehoneyposts @msamarican

[chrisevansleftpeck]

Reidsgiving

That’s the stupidest title but i thought thanksgiving was bland 😭

Spencer Reid x Wife!Reader

Word Count: 800 (exactly 💅)

Content Warnings: slight mention of ED (mostly just reader forgetting to eat bc she’s so in love with this man)

You tumbled into the kitchen, rifling through your grocery bags. As you unloaded your thanksgiving groceries you smiled, hearing tiny footsteps and little nonsensical babbles. You turned around to surprise your daughter and lift her into the air.

“Silly, wanna help mama cook for daddy and you?” You help her on your hip, sifting through the kitchen drawers for a pair of scissors. You heard a little “daddy” in your ear, and that was enough convincing for you. You placed the red kitchen scissors on the kitchen counter and placed your daughter in her high chair behind you. 

You walked over to the record player Spencer bought you last Christmas and put on some Taylor Swift. Back in the kitchen you cut open the package of frozen bread rolls and popped them in the oven to cook. Then you started on your turkey, mostly completely helpless. You had no idea how to cook a turkey, and you weren’t expected to know until you had a kid and you wanted to give her a real at-home thanksgiving. Basically a thanksgiving that wasn’t prepared by Rossi. 

You hummed to Taylor Swift as your daughter babbled in the background when your husband entered through the front door or your big apartment. You didn’t notice him, preoccupied on your phone searching for how to cook a turkey. Maybe you should’ve figured that out yesterday. Suddenly, Spencer’s arms wrapped around your waist as he planted a sweet kiss on your cheek.

“My girl.” He whispered, arms still around you as he stared down at the raw turkey. His eyebrows furrowed, “It’s three pm.”

“Yes.” You exhaled.

Spencer let go of you, standing beside you instead. “Want help?” You looked at him, wanting to reject him, but a desperate neediness shone through your eyes. He nodded, “How about I’ll take the bread out when it’s done-”

You cut him off, looking down at your feet then at your daughter. “It’s not homemade, sorry. Just frozen. I was busy.” Your face winced a little, trying to ignore the stingy feeling starting in your nose and the water building in your eyes. 

Spencer just walked over to his daughter, lifting her from her chair and placing her on his chest. He carried her over to you then pulled both of you into a hug. “I don’t care about homemade, as long as I get to eat it with my girls.” You smiled against Spencer’s neck, as he ran his hand along your back. “Also she’s one years old, she probably won’t remember this after two to three weeks.” 

You giggled, pulling away from Spencer and your daughter. You exhaled deeply, releasing your own built up tension. “Okay, what was your plan?”

Spencer set your daughter down in her high chair again then headed back to you, “I’ll take the bread out later, I’ll try to deal with the turkey, and you can make the mashed potatoes. Hopefully we’ll be on the same page by then and we can make the sweet potato casserole together.” You took all of his words in, so much clearer than before. You loved watching his mind work.

You simply nodded and got to work. Throughout the next hour you’d take the rolls out and feed a cool sample to your daughter, letting her chew on the bread. You’d also boop Spencer’s nose, leaving a little dot of mashed potatoes that he licked off. 

“Oh, god I hope our daughter doesn’t have that gene.” You laughed. 

Spencer smiled widely, “What?! It’s a talent. She’d be lucky to have it.” Spencer danced his way over to his daughter, holding a spatula in one hand, “A lucky ten percent, huh?” He smiled hearing you and your daughter's giggles mix together. 

It didn’t seem to matter to Spencer that dinner wasn’t finished until 4:50. He was still the happiest man in the world. 

When all three of you finally got to sit down and eat dinner Spencer moved your hand away from your daughter's spoon as you tried to feed her. “I’ll feed her tonight. For once you only have to worry about feeding yourself.” He smiled at your daughter, not breaking his gaze from her. You watched the scene, him flying the sweet, soft casserole into her mouth. 

“You enamor me, Spencer Reid.” You spoke, unable to keep the thought to yourself. He broke away from the two of you’s daughter to look at you.

He twitched a little, smiling softly, “What a beautiful woman.” He nodded at your plate, “Made with love, no reason not to eat it now.” 

You laughed, coming out of a trance only his eyes and his daughter’s could hold over you.

“Happy Thanksgiving, my loves.” Spencer looked at both of his girls, smiling proudly of his sweet little family.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet

Chapter Eleven: More Than Just Turkey

Summary- 5k Curtis Everett x Plus!Sized Reader. Tanya opened her home to the holiday and you are nervous to be joining in on these friends made into a family holiday. Curtis though is happy to include you among those he is closest with.

Warnings- Reader experiences moments of nervousness and doubt. Some hesitant eating moments. Sexual Content, Fingering. This is an 18+ Only Blog

A/N- It is no secret I love holidays and had to include a Friendsgiving chapter for this verse. I think I love this chapter for the fact that Curtis made his own family in his friends. As always, thank you so much for reading, sharing, and commenting. Every time I read someone's comment, message, or ask that talks about being seen in this journey, I just feel so grateful. Special thanks to @what-is-your-plan-today for taking the time to go over this, especially with you having been under the weather. All the love, thank you so much. Dividers made by @firefly-graphics

Chapter Ten / Masterlist

“You sure this is enough?” You worried as Curtis drove towards Tanya's house. You twisted in your seat once more, checking your two dishes were safe although you already knew they were secured in place. Curtis glanced at you from the corner of his eye and reached over to grasp your thigh, gently squeezing to get your attention. 

“Honey, it is more than enough. Especially when Tanya told you not to bring anything.” He calmly reminded you. 

His tone served as a reminder that you were everything he wasn't right now. Where he was calm and collected, you were a nervous bundle of energy fretting in your seat. You had worried about everything since Curtis went to your apartment to pick you up, patiently he assured you that you looked beautiful and the food you got up early to make tasted perfect. He had his suspicions about why you were nervous but kept those thoughts to himself. 

For you, this was a big moment and it had been drilled into you with Jake that you had to be perfect when going to friends' and families' houses. Curtis was nothing like Jake, but old habits died hard. 

“I can’t show up at Tanya’s house with nothing Curtis.” 

“And you have two dishes that look amazing and I know will taste even better from the sample I took this morning.” 

“Really?” You finally straightened back in place and Curtis took your hand to bring into his lap, smoothing his thumb over the back of your hand. 

“Really Honey, Tanya is gonna be thrilled to see your sweet potato casserole and rolls.” He lifted your hand up to his whiskered mouth, pressing a kiss there. “Now try and relax, enjoy yourself Pretty Girl.” He rumbled out deeply and you inched over closer to let your head rest against his shoulder. 

Curtis kept hold of your hand till the time he pulled into the driveway, several cars were already parked there. You swiftly unbuckled and Curtis tightened his hold on you to tug you close against him, tilting your face to look at him. 

“Remember that these are friends. What’s got you so worried?” Curtis finally voiced, knowing you were still dealing with the shit your ex had put you through, and then not to mention Halloween was just four weeks ago. “I promise all that is expected of you is to enjoy your holiday.” 

He opted not to mention Edgar’s behavior at Halloween. Between him and Tanya, Edgar already knew he was on thin ice and had to be at his absolute best today, or else they really were going to let Ella loose on him. That is if Curtis didn’t get to him first. They still hadn’t chatted, but it was something Curtis planned on fixing today. Get what needed to be said out and move on. 

Curtis wasn’t necessarily sympathetic about Edgar’s jealousy but you had seemed ready to forgive and try again, he supposed he could as well. With the clear promise, it was to never happen again. 

You wrinkled your nose and he pressed a kiss to the tip, even though his crystalline blues bored into your own still. “What if I do something, or get in the way.” Your brows furrowed and you looked down, your insecurities getting the best of you at the moment. “I just don’t want to embarrass you today.” 

“Just be you, Honey, You are sweet, kind, sexy as fuck…” You rolled your eyes a bit here, but Curtis got your attention again. “... and I’m damn proud you're my girl that I get to show off. You have nothing to worry about today.” 

“You are too much.” You couldn't hold back the smile, his words having given you a giddy rush that warmed your cheeks and made you glad you were here now. 

“I don’t tell you nearly enough Pretty Girl. Come on.” He opened the door and slid you across the seat to help you down. Once one of your dishes was secured in your hold and he had the other, the two of you made it up the steps and a knock had the door springing open to Timmy waiting in the entranceway, holding out his hands in offering to let you step inside. 

“Hey Ms.Y/L/N, Curtis, Mama was saying you two should be showing up any minute.” 

“Y/N had to let something cool before we could get here.” Curtis set down his bowl and offered to help you out of your jacket, then took off his. 

“Hey, Timmy, how about today it's just Y/N? We are on vacation after all.” You offered and your student gave a nod in understanding. 

“Sure thing Y/N, the kitchen is just down the hall to the left, everyone is in there or the living room, I will go bring these to mom.” He took off with your sweet potatoes, and you turned to Curtis, moving to pick up the rolls. 

“I'm gonna run these in there.” You mentioned while he unlaced his boots to get them off. 

“I will be around in a minute to say Hi to Tanya.” 

You made your way into the kitchen, bypassing the living room where it looked like Edgar and Timmy were getting ready to wrestle, while Grey was teaching the kid some moves to use on Edgar. In the kitchen you found Tanya and Ella picking at some snacks on a board, an open bottle of wine, and food scattered all over the place. On a stool near Ella stood Sophia, the little three-year-old in pigtails, doing her best to mix some dough with her spoon, happily.

“Hey.” You said as you held up a covered cooking sheet. “I also come with some rolls.” 

“You are a life saver Y/N.” Tanya exclaimed as she motioned to a bare spot on her island counter. “This one distracted me and I done burned mine.” Curtis’ cousin next to her gave a look to her friend.

“Excuse me, I'm sorry that I literally said ‘Hey look at this post on Instagram and you forgot your rolls scrolling the half-naked hot dudes. Hate to see your reaction to pornhub.” Ella set her phone down to help Sophia with stirring. “Alright kiddo, these cookies are looking good. But you know who is here now? Uncle Curtis.” She fixed Sophia’s hair. “Can you say hi to Y/N? Remember she gave us all the best candy trick or treating.” 

The little girl, with her chubby cheeks a bit ruddy from the warmth in the kitchen and bright shining eyes, immediately dropped her spoon in the bowl and threw her hands up to be let down. “Uncle! Uncle!” She beamed at you as Ella wiped at her hands with a wet towel and tugged her flour covered mini apron off to set her free. “Hi!” Little fingers waved at you before she giggled and scrunched up her face at you. 

“He should be here in just a second, he was just taking off his boots.” You told the women as you reached a hand for Sophia, who grasped it in a greeting. “Hey, Sophia nice to see you.” 

Sophia's eyes were bright and exquisite as she looked you over. She must have deemed you okay because she rambled right into a conversation with you in two seconds while still working on getting off her chair. “Those suga’ cookies’ for famksgiving.” You were helping her down when Curtis came around the corner. 

“Uncle!” Sophia's voice rose in excitement and bolted away from you to race to her uncle who promptly caught her and swung her up into the crook of his arm, where she sat like she belonged, hugging him around his neck and pointing excitedly at her cookie dough. “Look what I’m making!” 

“Well, you are the cookie monster.” He swung her around, blowing on her belly and making her squeal in laughter. Ella shook her head at the two of them. 

“How about we finish your sugar cookies and you go play with Uncle Curtis?” Ella wiggled her brows at the suggestion, the little girl immediately on board with the idea. 

“You’re leaving me alone with this rugrat?” Curtis now had Sophia hanging over his shoulder, the little girl squealing with excitement as she grabbed at her uncle's beanie and shoved the too big hat on her head, half covering her head. 

“Her father is in the other room. Let Grey take her for a while. It’s his weekend with her.” Ella nodded, tickling the back of Sophia’s feet, making her kick against Curtis’s chest lightly. Tanya piped up from the stove where she was basting a turkey. 

“You will be safe Curtis.” From the other room, Timmy chose the opportune moment to call Curtis's name. 

There was no saving him now and he took a firm hold of Sophia's swinging legs to keep her from kicking, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “Don’t believe anything these two say while I’m gone.” 

“I’m gonna tell her about that time I caught you kissing my doll.” Ella smirked as she rolled out the cookie dough, Tanya pausing in mid-baste to look over her shoulder. 

“He didn’t!” 

“Sure was! He claims he was practicing to kiss the girl next door to Grammy’s.” Ella promised.

Curtis groaned as he hung his head, sighing. “I should have lied to you.” 

“How could you have lied about that Curtis? Anything else would have just sounded weirder.” Ella laughed as she continued with the cookies. 

You shooed your hands at him, giving a light push. “Git outta here, I wanna hear more about what you did as a kid.” 

He shot one last look at the three women while Sophia slid back into his arms. He looked down at his niece and everything was all good, you fit in just like you had always been a part of the family. “Come on Little Terror, let’s go find your Daddy.” 

Entering the living room where Edgar and Timmy had each other in a headlock and Grey was directing Timmy on which way to twist to bring Edgar down to the floor. 

“Okay! Okay, I give.” Edgar finally bowed out, the two of them falling to the floor, panting to catch their breath. Curtis let Sophia go, watching her run off to her father. 

“Hey Edgar, got a minute?” Cutis cocked his head to the door in suggestion. Edgar glanced up at him warily but gave a nod, pushing himself up off the floor to follow Curtis outside on the porch. The two men stood out in the chilly fall morning, watching Tanya’s street with interest. Edgar shifted nervously next to Curtis, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck to ease the tension. 

“So- uh- before we start, I wanna say thanks, for being cool with me coming today.” 

Curtis breathed in deeply, clearing out his irritation with Edgar and remembering how you were willing to give him a chance. “You really have to thank Y/N for that. She was willing to look past the things you said and give you a chance to prove that you’re better than that.” Curtis leaned his forearms on the railing, still looking out on the street. “Which I know you are Edgar, I just…well, I still don’t fucking understand where that came from.” 

Turning finally to face him, expecting an answer Edgar sighed. “Me being a dumbass. Like I told Y/N, jealous. You were happy Curtis. In two months your whole life was just better all because of Y/N. I was there, you were watching Y/N like she was a literal Goddess walking around the room, and fuck man, I wanted that. I wanted someone who just makes everything seem worth it, you know?” 

“God Edgar, you are something else.” Curtis shook his head in irritation. “So you saw I was happy and you decided to what… try to make Y/N seem unworthy?” 

“I was an idiot, not thinking clearly. She seemed too good, everyone liked her, all of us, myself included liked her from the moment we met her. I just… grasped at the first thing I could to make her seem less perfect I guess.” 

“I could fucking strangle you.” Cutis snapped out, leveling a cold look at Edgar. “You know what happened after that?” Edgar gave a sad shake of his head. “Y/N hated on herself, you made her believe every fear she has about herself. She shut down that night and I spent all Halloween reminding her that she was perfect just as she is.” 

“I wish I could take it back… I don’t feel that way at all about her, I swear.” 

“Words fucking mean something Edgar, the things you say can lift a person up or drag them down. You brought her to a dark place that she had already escaped from once.” Curtis angrily said. 

“I’m sorry, I really am.” Edgar said quietly. 

Curtis took a moment, letting himself calm down once more. “ I know you are, I do believe that you are. Y/N is ready to move on and if she is then I’m willing to as well. But listen carefully Edgar, if you ever make me choose between the two of you again, it is going to be her.” 

“Okay.” 

“No, I'm dead fucking serious Edgar. I don’t know where Y/N and I are going to end up, but I’m ready to see, she’s unlike any woman I’ve dated so far. This isn’t us fooling around 'cause it’s a good time.” 

“I get it Curtis, we can all see that this isn’t like any girlfriend you’ve had before.” 

You craned your head out of the kitchen to watch Curtis leave with Sophia when you turned back to the other two, going to help with cutting out the cookies and putting them on the tray. “So… tell me more about Curtis as a kid?” 

“Oh gladly.” Ella grinned, delving into more stories of him when he was younger. The next half hour they spent together was Ella telling childhood stories along with Tanya filling in some of her own stories from their friendship. You found yourself giggling so much that your eyes watered and you constantly were wiping at them.

Tanya finally pulled out the last tray of cookies and set them aside. “Well that's just about it, Y/N can you go tell them I need one of them to carve this turkey and Timmy to come set the table?” 

“Of course.” You set your wine glass down, feeling a bit giddy still and Ella promptly reached over to pour the last of the wine bottle in it. 

“I will bring it to the table.” She winked. “Tanya we gotta open another bottle.” 

“Another one?”

You heard Tanya answer back as you made your way to the living room. Poking your head in, the sight that you saw made you cover your mouth briefly to keep a surprised ‘aww’ escaping. All four of the guys were scattered around the floor lounging, Sophia going to each one to make them so pretty as she kept saying. 

Carefully she would brush the men's hair, trying to sweep it back or make it stand up, depending on who she was with. Making her way to Curtis, she just swiped it over his scalp and then on his beard, beaming at her uncle. “So pretty.” 

“Yes, so pretty.” Curtis agreed with her, rolling his eyes up and wincing just a bit when she let the bristles come down just a little too hard. “Okay, go get Daddy now.” 

This is when you opted to make yourself known. “Hey, Tanya needs someone to go carve the turkey, any takers?” 

Edgar pushed up off the floor before Sophia could circle back to him, taking the excuse to escape getting his hair brushed once more. Timmy was right behind him and Gray caught his daughter in his hold, kissing her chubby cheek. “You wanna go help Mommy now?” The toddler swept her brush through his hair with an enthusiastic nod. 

Leaving just you and Curtis alone in the living room, he pushed to a stand while you joined him. “Having a good time?” He inquired while running his hands around you to press into the dip of your back and pull you flush against him. You circled his waist in response, swaying gently with him. 

“Yes, Ella and Tanya told me a lot.” You giggled, still feeling the warm rush the wine gave you. “I didn’t have the heart to tell your cousin that your moves have gotten better over the years. She likes to think that you are a walking disaster when it comes to women.” 

Curtis groaned with a tilt of his head. “She really forgets nothing.”

“Did you really show up at a girl's house with a boombox to play Backstreet Boys?” 

“It was her favorite song. I was thirteen.” He let his forehead lean against yours, “I just watched Say Anything and saw John Cusak do it.” 

You giggled as you tilted your face up to nibble at his bottom lip, your eyes shining excitedly at him from under your lashes. You are full of surprises Curtis.” 

“I got more for you later.” He winked at you, a thumb and forefinger grasping your chin to hold you still as he tilted in close, kissing you slow and dirty in the middle of his friend's living room, Your hands clutched at the back of his shirt to keep yourself steady at the moment. 

It seemed to have the desired effect he was looking for because you were left with parted lips and dazed eyes as his thumb swiped along your bottom lip before weaving his hand with yours and leading you away from the living room. 

At the moment you were speechless, having him chuckling softly as he tucked you under his arm, while rejoining everyone else. 

“You were playing dirty.” You whispered to him before anyone could hear you. 

“Nah, I was being nice, Pretty Girl.” His tone dropped at the nickname and he eased out a chair which you settled into, glancing around the table. Timmy was carving the turkey with Edgar nearby giving tips, Grey and Ella had Sophia between the two of them, Ella making her a plate while Grey worked on tying her hair back to keep it from getting messy while she was eating. Tanya was admiring the entire setup with a pleased look on her face. 

“It all looks so good.” You complimented as you felt your leg jiggle. There was so much food and everyone was generously helping themselves to what was spread around and you found yourself suddenly nervous about taking any. Each bowl and platter Curtis passed to you had you taking small amounts, easily leaving you with just a few bites of everything. 

It didn’t pass Curtis’s notice, seeing you pick at the food on your plate. Under the table he reached over to gently grasp your thigh, giving a slight squeeze to catch your attention. You were talking to Grey across the table, but feeling Curtis’s hand, you glanced at him, your fork with a tiny bite of potatoes. His gaze dropped to your fork in question and you were quick to take that bite. 

Was he judging what you were eating? The chaotic part of your mind drilled you, even though the sensible part was sure to remind you that he never had before and on the first date he watched you eat a giant burger, fries and a shake, there wasn't even enough on your plate to count as a full meal. 

But his hand never moved away, if anything he tucked it further between your thighs and let his thumb brush back and forth soothing while he went back to talking among the group. Curtis wasn’t upset with you eating, he was just silently checking in to make sure you were okay. It occurred to you that you were letting your thoughts dictate you and you weren't enjoying yourself because you were worried over nothing no one else was noticing. In defiance of the negative thoughts, you nudged Curtis. 

“Can I have the mashed potatoes and gravy?” 

Curtis gave you a genuine smile while handing them over to you. “Anything you want Honey, more turkey? You don't have much.” 

“Yes please and a roll.” 

You were done censoring your eating today and properly filled your plate. 

“Where did you teach before here Y/N?” Tanya asked, drawing you back into the conversation. 

You had to clear your mind, clearing your throat to focus on what was asked of you and take another bite. “Lake George in New York for almost five years, but I needed the change.” 

Curtis had yet to remove his hand from your leg, but you were noticeably at ease once more and were not pushing your food around like you had been before. He remained quiet while you opened up with everyone, soon laughing just like you were before in the kitchen. Completely in the moment. 

And that was all he wanted today, for you to feel welcome in those he considered his family. 

Soon everyone was pushing their plates away with overfilled groans about how good the food had been. “Well, I think I can get this table cleaned off, you all up for some games?” Tanya pushed to a stand, gathering dirty dishes. 

“Sure, what do you have?” Ella asked curiously, handing her dishes over. Curtis removed himself from the table to collect the dishes from Tanya to bring them to the kitchen, you started to gather stuff off the table while the others discussed game choices. 

“Thanks Curtis and Y/N, umm, Timmy what do we have?” 

Curtis was quick to deposit the dishes in the kitchen and you were right next to him organizing them so they didn't take up too much counter space. Taking your hand, he gave you a light tug to have you follow him, leading you into the hallway. “Where are we going?” You asked him in a whisper and he didn't slow down till he got to a door and swept it open to a guest bathroom. Being pulled in, you turned to him with a confused look while he locked the door behind him. 

“Right here.” He directed you to turn around in the small space, moving behind you till you were facing the mirror hanging above the bathroom sink. “I wanted a few minutes alone with you Honey.” He muttered as he rubbed his chin against the curve of your neck, watching your reactions through the mirror. “Just checking in with you.” A tilt of his head made him start teasing near the hinge of your jaw causing you to tilt for him. “Pretty Girl.” 

Your breath hitched hearing him, his gaze lifting enough to see that instead of closing up, you were getting lost in the sensations his mouth was bringing you. His hands squeezed your hips once more before pushing under your shirt to stroke along the lower part of your belly.

“I’m good, feeling really good.” You said hazily as he flushed kisses down to your shoulder. 

“I can tell, think you can be quiet for me?” Fingers delved under the band of your pants to brush his fingers on your mound, pressing lightly into the soft curls before stroking against your slit, making you quiver, shooting a look at him through the mirror. His head tilted in question even though he continued to touch, tracing your slit now to spread your folds apart. 

Yes, you could be quiet cause he gathered enough slick to rub your clit and you urgently gripped the edge of the counter but didn’t make a peep at how good it felt. “That’s my girl.” He praised your efforts and started to tease you more, spreading slick that wept from you to put more pressure on you. He never let up kissing your neck, never quite giving you a hickey, but his teeth nipped in place of some kisses, and he never stopped praising you. Between presses of his lips, he would groan in your ear as a finger filled you, then another to stretch you and make you whimper at the sensation. “Eyes on me Pretty Girl, fuck you’re beautiful when you get like this.” 

You did your best to stare at him through the mirror, your eyes rolling back whenever he hit a particularly sweet spot. 

“Curtis…” You whispered out, your mouth screwing to keep from calling out as his calloused fingers stroked over your sweet spot over and over so you would cum for him. 

“What is it Pretty Girl, think you’re gonna give out on me?” Another stroke had your knees giving a shake and your knuckles whitening as you grasped Tanya’s bathroom counter in an effort not to let yourself sag. Your head shook a no, you could keep going. His tone was heavy, graveled deep as he called you pretty girl once more, and stroked you so thoroughly, his thumb flicking around your clit, it all made your eyes waver back and jaw go slack. 

“Oh god, I’m gonna-” 

Hearing you he went faster, clasping his other hand over your mouth to keep you quiet while his fingers fucked you. “Come on Pretty Girl, you gonna show me how good you feel?” Hearing him, your velvet walls clenched around him and your eyes were now pleading with him in the mirror while his mouth curved up, feeling just how close you were. 

“Pretty Girl, god you are so fucking sexy looking like this.” You clenched again, your slick sounding so loud now, the sound of his hand between your thigh was soon covered by your muffled gasp, feeling the white heat in your belly sear in pleasure while you sagged into his hold. “I got you…” His arm dropped to around your waist and you leaned back into his chest.

“Fuck that was perfect.” Curtis eased his hand from your pants and held up the glistening fingers with a smirk. 

You shyly turned into his arms, feeling vulnerable in the way that this wasn't the safety of your apartment or his house. Your face pressed into the soft flannel covering his chest and he rubbed at your back, smiling to yourself as his mouth pressed at the crown of your head. 

“You looked so good Honey, I couldn't stop thinking about getting you to myself for a few moments.” Curtis assured you, giving his hand a quick rinse in the bathroom sink. 

You hid a smile in his chest but then you looked up, nuzzling a bit against his beard and sighing. “We should get back out there. I can only imagine Ella coming to look for us.” 

Curtis gave a laugh, his eyes amused. “That is something she would do.” Before you let him unlock the door, you cupped the back of his neck and shared a thorough kiss, biting lightly at his bottom lip before pulling away from him.

“Okay, I’m ready now.” Clicking the lock, you both exited the bathroom. 

On the way back through the house to go towards the dining room, you paused seeing all these pictures hanging in the hallway. Glancing at all the happy pictures, you saw a few that Curtis was included in. 

What appeared to be card night around Tanya’s table with a much younger Timmy sitting next to him. You pointed it out to him. “How old was Timmy here?”

He scooped up behind you, kissing the back of your neck while you sunk back into him, looking up at the wall. 

“Mmmh, probably 10? We were having poker night.” Curtis smiled at the memory of it. “Only gambling Tanya said we could do. Kid cleaned me out that night.” 

You giggled at his story, letting your hands cover his resting on your waist. “What a beautiful family.” 

He hummed in agreement and continued back towards the dining room. 

Tanya just glanced at the two of you coming back into the room and gave a smile in greeting. “Would you two like some coffee?” 

“Sure.” You were eager for the attention to fall off you and Curtis. “Let me help you.” 

“No, no… I got it.” She said as she pushed up from the dining room table that was now littered with the board game Clue, some untouched snacks, and drinks. “You and Curtis are the green peg on the board and your turn is next. Cream, sugar?” 

“Sounds perfect.” 

“Curtis?” 

“None for me, thanks.” He said absently while studying the board, Ella flinging over a piece of paper with all the clues already given on the board. His arm circled over your shoulders while waiting for your turn to pop up. “Hey Sophia Bear, what cards does your mom have?” He teased and Ella hid her cards against her chest. 

“Just cause you two went off doing who knows what doesn't mean you can cheat to win Curtis!” 

“She has a man!” Sophia chose to divulge her mom's secrets anyways much to the room's amusement, making them all laugh. Grey tugged his toddler into his lap, whispering in her ear while Ella scowled at her kid.

“Good girl.”  

Timmy stretched out across the table to move his piece into the library and started making his accusation as to whodunit. 

Ella cheekily denied having any clues before she turned to you and Curtis. “Sooo, you two have a good time?” 

“Just showing Y/N the house.” Curtis was quick to reply which had you half panicking next to him but under the table, his hand rubbed against your thigh reassuring. “Tanya has a nice backyard.” 

“Liar, it's just a dirt patch back there,” Ella smirked at the two of you and shared a wink with you. “Good for you two. But… you’re still getting your asses beat at Clue.” 

“Bring it.” Curtis challenged her while he pressed the dice into your hand. “Give us a good roll Honey.” 

[powerofelvis]

Thanksgiving At Graceland

Pairing: Elvis Presley x f!reader

Word Count: 1.5K

Summary: The holidays are at a full swing at Graceland and Lisa Marie has come to visit her daddy. You could only hope that the memories become everlasting for the father and daughter duo.

Warning(s): Fluffy because the relationship between Lisa and Elvis is just too cute to pass up on

A/N: This is a little Thanksgiving request for @oh-my-front-door! I hope I did it justice explaining the little spread that we make here in America. Also, who can pass up Big Daddy and Lisa being cute 💕 Also, I know that Lisa is young in the pictures, but in this fic, she is a bit older. masterlist.

Your favorite part of the year was always the Holidays. You would also find solace when it came around because you could see the joy that it brought to your family. Once Halloween was over, you were always the first one to run to your Christmas decorations and write down your Thanksgiving list. Since Thanksgiving was near, you were busy getting ingredients and decorations together. As usual, Graceland was decorated with Christmas lights and garland, but the spirit of Thanksgiving was ever prevalent. Ever since you had married Elvis all those years ago, you made sure that the holidays were filled with happiness and love for him and his family, including Lisa Marie. You knew that the holidays were a bit hard for Elvis and Lisa ever since the divorce but when you came into the picture, you made sure that their bond remained strong.

This year, Lisa was coming down to Graceland for the holidays as she was out of school. The day that she was set to arrive, you spent all morning getting everything ready while Elvis went to pick Lisa Marie up at the airport. “We are home, sugar.” You smiled as you heard Elvis come inside of the house with Lisa in tow. Lisa ran up to you, wrapping her arms around you as if she hadn’t seen you in a long time. “My pretty girl, how are you?” You pressed your lips to her forehead as you listened to her talk about her time at school and the things that she has experienced while she was away. Lisa wasn’t your daughter, but in your eyes, she was. Lisa would always call you when she would bump heads with her mother because she trusted you to tell her what she needed to hear while also reminding her that her mother only wants what’s best for her.

“Are you ready to help me make Thanksgiving dinner? Your daddy has been going on and on about my Apple Cobbler.” You giggled as Lisa rolled her eyes. Elvis was a picky eater, no doubt about it. However, Elvis loved your cobbler. He ate it so much that you made it your mission to ensure that he had it every year. Your menu for Thanksgiving for this year was Turkey, Stuffing, Sweet Potato Casserole, Apple Cobbler, Green Bean Casserole, and Macaroni and Cheese. You wanted to make sure that the menu wasn’t too complex, especially for Elvis because he didn’t like much that didn’t remind him of his childhood.

Lisa stood next to you in the kitchen, peeling apples as you sliced them finely. You were carrying on a simple conversation about things that were happening while Lisa was gone, especially about her father. “And when I looked up, he was out there at the stables fooling around with Rising Sun.” You laughed as you told the story about Elvis and his favorite horse, Rising Sun. At that moment, Elvis came into the kitchen as you finished up the story. “That is not what happened and you know it, darlin’.” You stopped cutting the apples, turning around as you raised a brow. “Then, why don’t you tell the story then?” You laughed as you began spreading the apples in the baking pan. You listened to Elvis tell Lisa the parts that he remembered, sneaking a piece of apple or two before you had to shoo him away. “Hey!” You pushed him away from the cobbler with your hip as you finished the recipe.

As you slid the cobbler into the oven, you felt Elvis wrap his arms around you as he would pull you into his embrace. You looked over to Lisa who was making a face before she left the kitchen to go to her room for a while before dinner. “Darlin’, you always make Graceland feel like home when the holidays are around.” That was the only thing that you wanted—Graceland to feel like home to Elvis during the holidays. You know how much he was gone during the year with tours and rehearsals, so you could only get him to yourself during this time of year. “I only want to make sure that you know how thankful we are for you. Without you, none of this would be possible.” You pointed to the Thanksgiving spread that was littered on the dining room table.

As you spoke, the front door opened and the Memphis Mafia entered with their wives and his father Vernon was walking into the kitchen with his grandmother, Dodger. You pressed a kiss to his cheek before nodding your head to the company that was arriving, hinting that they needed him at that moment. Elvis’ eyes softened as he pulled away from you, pressing a kiss to your lips before he took his grandmother by the hand. He led Vernon and Dodger out of the kitchen before you turned around, grabbing the bowl of Gravy that sat in the kitchen counter. You walked into the dining room, noticing that Lisa had returned before you sat down beside her. You placed the gravy bowl down on the table, placing your hand in Elvis’ as he said the prayer. Once he was done, you handed the carving knife to him as he stood up, carving the first piece of the Turkey as the mafia cheered. You were truly blessed that this Thanksgiving was going along smoothly as you had hoped. Once again, Thanksgiving went without a hitch as you looked around the table, seeing everyone deep in their conversations and eating.

You caught the eyes of Dodger who gave you a warming smile, which indicated to you that you had done well once again. You returned her smile as you continued to eat your dinner, putting in your two cents when one of the wives would speak to you. Majority of the time, you were speaking with Lisa or with Elvis who sat at the end of the table, being his usual silly self when he was around company. Soon after, dinner was over so you stood up from the table as you ran off to the kitchen to grab the apple cobbler out of the oven. “Where’s that Apple Cobbler, honey?” Elvis called out from the dining room, leading to a full room of laughter from the mafia and his family. You grabbed the serving spoon before heading back into the area where everyone was sitting. “Here we are, baby.” You placed the cobbler in front of him.

As dessert was passed around among everyone, your eyes watched Elvis as he ate the cobbler that he loved so much. Seeing this smile made the rest of the day better for you. Thanksgiving at Graceland was definitely one for the books when Elvis was satisfied and you were always going to make sure that he was satisfied. “Mama Y/N?” Your head snapped over to Lisa who was nearly finished with her bowl of Apple Cobbler, looking up at you with a grin. “Can I help you with the Christmas tree tonight?” She asked as she wrapped her arms around your waist. The last thing that you haven’t done was put up the Christmas tree which you usually did on the night of Thanksgiving. “Of course you can, baby girl. I’m sure your father would be delighted that you helped us.”

Dinner was finally over and Elvis was entertaining the guests in the piano room. You were in the kitchen, cleaning up everything and making take home plates for everyone while Lisa sat on the counter. At that moment, Elvis came into the kitchen before pressing a kiss to Lisa’s forehead as he turned to you, kissing your cheek. “Thanksgiving dinner was goddamn delicious, lil’ mama. Thank you for another great one and for including my Yisa.” He turned back to Lisa, rubbing her cheek with his hand before he took her by the hand. “Are y’all ready to put our Christmas tree up?” At that question, Lisa cheered before running out of the kitchen to get the decorations together for the tree. Elvis pressed another kiss to your cheek, turning you around as he passionately kissed your lips. “I never properly thanked you for making today memorable for me and Lisa. You always go out of your way to make sure our time together is filled with memories. Thank you, Satnin.”

This is all you wanted to hear as you wrapped your arms around your man, kissing him deeply. “I always want you and Lisa to enjoy each other and have memories that she can pass on to her family when she gets older. You’re always welcome, my love.” Elvis’ eyes brightened as he placed his hand in yours, leading you out of the kitchen and into the living room where Lisa was waiting to put up the Christmas Tree. You were truly grateful that you were able to create memories for Elvis and for Lisa, but you couldn’t deny that you were more grateful that you were able to be a part of these memories with the two of them.

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #120

I did so much stuff today!!!!

…Okay, well actually I did only like 3 things today. But these things were very BIG things! I will talk about two of them, and then touch vaguely upon the third!

I will start with this morning! Because J and I went up in the sky in the little airplane today! We went to an airport that had a diner! I got an EPIC BREAKFAST!!! There was steak and eggs and cheddar grits, and I also got a coffee, because I don't get coffee very often, so why not! I took some pictures for you…

This is what J got! It's some kind of breakfast bowl with salsa, avocados, beans, and scrambled eggs! There's also potatoes and bacon under the eggs! I wonder if you'd enjoy something like this. He let me have a few bites; it was really good!

Here is the coffee I got! And, of course I snapped the picture of it while the cream was still swirling around; it's more interesting that way:

Here are some cheddar grits:

Here's the steak and eggs I got; it came with caramelized onions, cornbread and butter, eggs with runny yolks, and a bit of hollandaise sauce! It also came with ketchup for some reason. But I only like it on burgers, so I didn't use it.

I asked for the steak to be as rare as allowed, and I was SUPER THRILLED about the fact that they prepared it in basically the same way I do at home - brown the outside, and leave the inside mostly raw:

It was so good!!! Oh my goodness!

While at the place, I also happened upon a little space with dandelions! I'm not really sure why, but people in my world seem to really hate dandelions. It makes absolutely no sense to me, because in addition to being extremely beneficial to nearby soil for a variety of reasons, every part of the plant is edible and nutritious. One of my favorite things to do, when I can find a safe source of them, is to turn the blooms into a sweet syrup that you can use on pancakes, on ice cream, or in tea! Maybe I'll get to do that this year. For now, I'll just show you the picture I took:

Isn't it pretty? I like them!

I also took a bunch of photos along the way from the airplane window! I'll show you the best ones!

…Hey, Sephiroth? I know you can fly and stuff, and that's pretty cool. But while you're up in the sky, dancing in the clouds, do you make it a point to notice and appreciate all the lovely scenery? If you don't, then maybe you can try it next time; practicing gratitude and appreciation is one of the best ways to exercise your hippocampus until it becomes strong!

On the way home, I saw 9 great big huge birds-of-prey; I think these ones were turkey vultures. I managed to actually catch a picture of one in flight for you! Here, it's not very big in the photo, but check out the back speck in the sky:

Oh!!! Also!!! I finally got around to making the stuffed cabbage casserole today! This recipe was given to me by an awesome person called @freelanceexorcist (thanks be to ye, fren!! 💖)! I ended up modifying it a bit, just to suit the needs of those in my house; Br cannot have gluten, so I used tomato puree in place of tomato soup, and J does not like big cabbage leaves, so I cut it into little slices, and bite-sized bits are easier for M to handle than meatballs, so I kinda just... shredded everything and mixed it all together. But I used mostly the same ingredients, even if the preparation differed just a little! I'll show you what I did…

You start with cabbage!

Here's how it looks on the inside when you cut it in half!! It's pretty cool!

...It's like Brussels sprouts, but WAY bigger!

The recipe calls for whole leaves, but I cut it into shreddy bits, like this:

The cabbage was sauteed in my bacon fat confit garlic:

I poured in a can of tomato puree from there, and I let it simmer on low heat for a couple of hours:

While that was happening, I cut up 2 pounds of kielbasa, and 2 onions:

Once the cabbage was done and set aside, I caramelized the onions in more bacon fat:

I added the onions to the cabbage, and then I put a big can of diced tomatoes, a pound of Bavarian sauerkraut, and the ground meat I cooked the other day into the wok, along with a cup of rice and a can full of some beef bone broth:

I let this sit on very low heat until the rice was done cooking. I used short grain rice; it looks like this:

...In between the long bits of cooking when there was nothing else I could do, I worked on something else that I'm absolutely not going to tell anyone about! It was good!

Once the cabbage and the rice were all done, I combined the two sets of things; this took some doing simply because there was SO MUCH FOOD, oh my goodness!! But this was the result!

So... it's cabbage, caramelized onions, sauerkraut, canned tomatoes, tomato puree, beef bone broth, rice, garlic, kielbasa, ground pork, and ground beef, all cooked up nicely and mixed together in a great big awesome dish!! And it is indeed awesome!! It was said that the leftovers are even better, because the flavors are given a chance to mingle; I can't wait to find out tomorrow!

...I wish you could have been here for all of this. I wish you could be here, generally. My house does occasionally have its challenges, for sure, but still, it is happy, wholesome, and safe. There's lots of fun and interesting stuff to do. My house is a good house. You could find healing and belonging here. You could find growth and change here. And you'd fit right in. You'd fit right in with my social circle, generally; ain't a single one of us fit the definition of "normal".

Sephiroth, c'mon. The darkness doesn't suit you. It never did. And it never will. So step away from people who wanna use and abuse you, and instead step towards the people who wanna help you to feel as though you're enough exactly as you are, without needing to do something useful or amazing first.

I'll be here waiting, so... as impossible as it is, pop by for a visit soon, okay? We'll make you good snacks - all the pasta you could want, or whatever else suits your fancy - whatever you like; if I don't know how to cook it, I can figure it out, easy peasy.

I'm gonna go do other things now, and I'm going to wish you were here as I do them. I love you, and I'll write again tomorrow. Please stay safe.

Your friend, Lumine