#and her little sisters i made up in my head!!

[ellecdc]

hii if youre up for it i’d love to see something like potter!reader x sirius or potter!reader x barty from james’ pov where he starts noticing that either of the boys is falling in love with his sister? love you kisses have a good day 💘💘

thanks for your request, doll! this was fun hahaha <3 <3

Sirius Black x Potter!reader when James realizes his friend's in love [1.4k words]

CW: fem!reader, reader is James' twin, siblings, fluff, Regulus hates Peter for no reason [or is there.......], oblivious reader, James outs Sirius in front of everyone

James Potter was something of an aficionado when it came to love. 

It all started with his parents who loved each other and him unconditionally, and who he loved in turn. 

Then it was his sister; his twin, his built in best friend, his partner in crime, his confidante. Arguably the very first love of his life. 

He loved his friends, and loved being loved by them in turn. The second love of his life; the Marauders. 

He loved romance and pining and flowers and Lily - of course; who would spend six years chasing after the same witch who seemingly harboured nothing but disdain for you if they didn’t love love? 

So yeah, James Potter was something of an aficionado when it came to love.

Which is why his ears positively perked when he noticed the most peculiar symptoms of such love in his best mate. 

It started when the group would talk about upcoming parties and dances, and Sirius would get this wistful and distant look on his face. 

“Anyone you want to invite, Pads?” Pete had asked as they planned their Halloween party, eyes glued to the invite list in his lap and missing the way Sirius’ cheeks flushed and he lowered his gaze to his lap. 

James didn’t miss it, however, nor did he miss how Sirius stole a nervous glance at him before clearing his throat and saying “just make sure not to invite any wankers and we’re good, yeah?” 

“What? You mean you want us to take Snivellus off the list?” Remus had joked, and the group fell back into their lively banter. 

The peculiarities continued when they got home for the holidays, and Sirius blushed something fierce when his dad hung some sprigs of mistletoe in various archways throughout the manor. 

“Dad, you must be charming them to follow Sirius around; this has to be his sixth mistletoe?” You laughed as you brushed past Sirius, shaking your head at Fleamont Potter who seemed a touch too smug at simply having ensnared Sirius in one of his traps (again). 

“Now, why would I do such a thing?” Fleamont chuckled innocently, earning him a gentle swat from his wife. 

“Go on, my little lioness; put the poor boy out of his misery.” Euphemia encouraged you as she took pity on said poor boy now hovering awkwardly in the doorway.

You made a show of it - grumbling about your trouble-loving family who couldn’t ease up on the pranking even over the holidays for Merlin’s sake - before pressing a smacking kiss to the long-haired boy's cheek.

“There ya go, Pads; you’ve been freed.”

And Sirius - notoriously brash and haughty - simply cleared his throat, muttered a quick “thank you, trouble” and hurried off towards his bedroom. 

Then, James was almost positive Sirius was going to simply combust on New Years.

“Why me?” He nearly shrieked at James.

“It’s the only thing that makes sense!”

“How does me kissing your sister make sense, Prongs?” He asked; bewildered.

“Well because I can’t kiss her.” James explained simply; Sirius didn’t seem to find it all that simple. “This will only work if we all follow the buddy system.” 

“The buddy system is rigged.” Peter pouted as he fell back into his chair. 

“How is it rigged?” James asked.

“You and Marlene are the only ones who get to kiss your crushes!” Sirius argued.

Remus murmured something that James thought sounded suspiciously like “Are you sure about that, Pads?” which earned him a hasty elbow in the ribs from his friend. 

“Why can’t Remus kiss trouble at midnight?” Sirius countered, causing James to groan.

“Because you can’t kiss Regulus!”

“I’ll kiss Regulus.” Peter volunteered.

“Can’t.” James refused. “Reg hates you.”

“Reg hates me?”

“Yeah, said something about your ‘beady little eyes’ freaks him out; says he doesn’t trust you.” Sirius agreed. “Besides, I can’t kiss Mary because of that whole-”

“-fiasco back in fourth year, right, so we’re back to my buddy system.” James concluded.

The buddy system really had been foolproof; James would kiss Lily (obviously), Marlene would kiss Dorcas (of course), Mary would kiss Peter (who would then blush furiously for the rest of the evening), Remus would kiss Regulus (who would pretend to hate it but would also blush furiously for the rest of the evening), and Sirius would kiss you! 

But it was two hours before the party and Sirius was doing one of his thorough party preps - a full shower, shave, moisturize, immaculately styled hair, a fresh coat of black nail polish, perfectly curated jewelry laid out on his dresser, and a peptalk in the mirror.

“Merlin, Pads. Are you expecting David Bowie himself to show up tonight?” James asked from the doorway, causing Sirius to actually yelp and drop his favourite bottle of cologne.

“Godric’s balls, Prongs.” Sirius muttered as he picked the bottle back up and replaced its cap. “Can’t I just want to look nice going into the New Year?” 

And James couldn’t really find any fault with that, so he didn’t argue.

As expected, Peter found it hard to make eye contact with just about anyone for the rest of the party; round cheeks positively tickled pink well into the early morning hours. Regulus glared at anyone and everyone who deigned to even look in his direction as his alabaster skin took on the hue of one of Euphemia Potter’s roses, but dutifully stuck close to Remus’ side for the rest of the party (who did not seem at all displeased by his new shadow). 

Yet, unexpectedly, Sirius’ cheeks also took on the colour of his beloved Hogwarts house and could be found smiling shyly down at his lap or fiddling with the various rings adorning his hands for the remainder of the party. 

But the pivotal moment had been James’ birthday.

Which was also your birthday, but this is James’ story - okay? 

Your birthday blissfully fell on a Hogsmeade weekend, and you were all determined to make the most of it. 

In lieu of gifts, your friends travelled with the two of you from shop to shop, letting you pick out some sweets (or, in James’ case, pranking supplies) on them. It wasn’t until James turned to say something to Sirius in Zonko’s that he realised he wasn’t even there. 

“Oi! Where’d Pads go?” He called to Peter, causing Lily and Marlene to share a knowing look.

“Erm, I think he and Remus took Y/N to Tomes & Scrolls.” Peter offered quickly before turning his attention back to the new batch of dung bombs in front of him. 

Except when they got to Tomes & Scrolls, Remus was leaning against the stone building and enjoying a cheeky smoke as you and Sirius - both flushed and giggly - exited the store.

James let that slide, though.

What he couldn’t let slide, however, was when the lot of you got to The Three Broomsticks and he watched Sirius actually pull your chair out for you.

“Okay, what the bloody hell is going on here?” James called over the group, causing everyone to exchange looks that ranged from concerned to bemused to exasperated.

“Erm…we’re…celebrating your birthday?” Marlene tried as if that were really quite obvious.

“No, I mean you.” He clarified, gesturing to Sirius. “What’s gotten into you?”

“What are you on about, Prongs?” Sirius asked flippantly as he took a seat beside you.

Beside you. 

You.

Oh my gods.

“Oh my gods.” James let out with a breath. “You’re in love with her.”

“James…” Someone to his right hissed, but it was too late.

“You’re in love with Y/N!” He continued unfazed. 

“Classy, James; real nice.” Remus muttered as he forced James down into his seat with a firm hand on his shoulder. “Would you stop making a scene?”

“Why didn’t you tell me!?”

“I haven’t exactly told her yet either, have I?” Sirius hissed severely, causing James’ eyes to dart to you. 

Your mouth hung open as you looked at Sirius in shock, and Sirius had the grace to appear rather contrite. 

“Sirius Black is in love?” You deadpanned, accepting his grimace and a nod of his head yes as an acceptable answer. 

“With me?” You continued, voice travelling quite high at the end of your sentence, hinting at a touch of giddiness and giving Sirius enough confidence to reopen his eyes.

“I…yes?” Sirius asked, shooting James a concerned look. 

James watched then as your expression fell from shock to a cautious disbelief before finally landing on a gentle sort of smug.

“Well,” you started, voice haughty and sounding not unlike Sirius did after pulling off a successful prank, “happy birthday to me, I guess!”

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Happily Ever After

Summary: After losing the reader, Dean’s moved on with his life and made a home for himself with his new family so he’s more than surprised when he finds her in his house one night...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,200ish

Warnings: language, mention of death

A/N: Enjoy!

____

“Hey,” you said, Dean freezing from where he stood in the kitchen. He turned around slowly, a formula bottle in one hand, a rag over his shoulder. “Been a hot minute. You uh, you look good. I like the beard.”

“Thanks. You’re dead,” he said. He dropped the bottle on the counter, grabbing a knife from the butcher block. You held up your hands, Dean over and on top of you, pushing you back against the wall. “Do not move.”

He sliced your arm and pulled you over to a cabinet, taking out a spray bottle and dousing your arm. He stared at you when nothing happened and suddenly he was picking you up into a squeezing hug. You laughed and he set you down, giving you a kiss.

“Daddy, Emily is crying,” said a little girl around four years old as she entered the kitchen. You both turned, Dean giving her a smile. 

“Okay, Piper,” said Dean. “Let’s get you back in bed.”

“Is that Y/N?” she asked as she looked at you. “I thought Daddy said you died.”

“Oh, no. You must have been confused,” said Dean, looking over to you when you heard a cry upstairs. “Y/N was away working was all. I’ll be right back.”

“So, you’re Piper?” you asked, the girl nodding and fixing her beer under her arm. “It’s pretty late. You want to head to bed?”

“You should hug daddy. He missed you,” she said.

“As soon as you’re in bed and Emily is taken care of, that is exactly what I’m gonna do,” you said.

“Okay. You carry me up?” she asked. You smiled and bent down, settling her on your hip. She put her head on your shoulder and was out like a light. You walked up the stairs, Dean rocking a baby in his arms in the hallway. He nodded towards a room and you put Piper to bed in it, Dean bouncing the baby gently back into the room across the hall. 

“She’s adorable,” you whispered.

“Want to hold her?” asked Dean, already putting her in your arms. She cooed and popped open and eye at you, quickly lolling her head back and snoring quietly. “Oh she’s smitten with you.”

You stared and he showed you how to put her down without waking her, Dean guiding you back down the hall and into a master bedroom.

“You really did it, went through with the adoption,” you said.

“It was our plan. I really wanted to be alone and miserable you know. I stayed at the bunker for a while,” he said. “Sam and Eileen were great. I just...I wanted you back but I promised I wouldn’t do something stupid so I didn’t. So I got angry and upset for a while. Drove around, wanted to get drunk, wanted to forget. Couldn’t do it though. I just kept hearing, you’re not supposed to drink when you’re upset. Your voice was in my head. Eventually, the pain faded some and I remember how we talked about a life after hunting. I went in looking for a baby when I found the girls.”

“Why’d you pick them?” you asked, sitting down on the bed.

“Parents died in a fire. Piper ran in and yelled at me that I couldn’t take her sister away from her. I could relate,” he chuckled. You patted the bed and he sat beside you, turning his head. “How are you here?”

“I woke up in a box and fell down to the floor. I didn’t take you for the fancy mausoleum type,” you said.

“I wanted someplace I could go talk to you,” he said. “Did you ever...hear anything when I was there?”

“I think so. It feels like a memory I can’t grab though. It’s like, I died at that cemetery and then I woke up. Everything’s okay down here, right?”

“As far as I know,” he said. “You just woke up out of the blue?”

“Yeah. I thought maybe you did something. I went to the bunker and then I came straight here,” you said.

“Sweetheart, I wanted to, I did. But I didn’t do this,” he said.

“I did,” said a voice out of the blue. You jumped and saw Adam, narrowing your eyes. “Michael at the moment.”

“You mean the dick,” you said.

“Once again, that was the other Michael that was a dick to you,” he sighed.

“You’re still a dick,” you mumbled.

“This dick just brought you back to life so you could say thanks,” he said.

“Why would you do that?” asked Dean.

“Because I’m a sweetheart underneath it all,” said Michael. Dean rolled his eyes and Michael shrugged. “Your kids are gonna be important. They need a mother.”

“I thought the world was safe,” you said.

“It is. Your daughters are going to be involved in something...global, is all. It’s important that they have two parents as the grow. They’ll be important to society.”

“If you hurt my kids, I swear-” said Dean, Michael holding up a hand.

“You gotta learn to look on the bright side, buddy. Not everything is bad,” said Michael. “If you want to handle it on your own, I can take her back.”

“No!” you both said, Michael nodding.

“That’s what I thought. Nothing nefarious so scooch along,” said Michael before he disappeared.

“What’s going to happen you think?” you asked. 

“No idea,” said Dean. “It doesn’t sound like it’ll be bad. Maybe they’ll do something good?”

“I sure hope so,” you said. “Either way I’m glad I’m back.”

“Me too. Can I get you anything?” he asked, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Can I take a shower? I feel gross,” you said.

“Of course. Right in there,” he said, pointing at a door.

“Do you want to join me? Not like that, just…” you said. He stood and guided you into the bathroom, flicking on the light. “Dean Winchester. Who knew you had some interior designer in you.”

“I know you wanted a bathroom like this. Wait til you see the house in the day. It’s what we always talked about.”

“I can’t wait, Winchester.”

“Me either, Winchester.”

Twenty minutes later you were curled up in the bed wearing Dean’s shirt, Dean tucked in close. You smiled and shut your eyes, Dean grabbing on a little hard before letting out a quiet breath.

“Not going anywhere, Dean,” you said.

“You promise?”

“I promise, Dean.”

“Sure you still want me?”

“I love you, you idiot. Yeah, I still want you.”

“Good,” he chuckled. “Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?”

“Love you,” he said, kissing your cheek.

“Love you too, De.”

_____

[babystarbun]

Older stepbro Jungkook that makes a move on you because he sees his little bro Heeseung eyeing you

warnings. stepcest, heeseung(enhypen) mentioned, under the table fondling, blood mentioned

————

Jungkook has to laugh.

His little brother can’t be serious. It’s only been a month since you moved in and he’s already making moves on you? He really learned from the best.

Rubbing over his lip piercing, he hides a smile behind his hands. His father’s been bugging him for weeks now to come over for dinner and formally meet his new wife. They only spoke shortly once before, small introductions after they eloped and honeymooned. Which obviously left his horn dog little brother with enough time to persuade you. How your mother has completely ignored the mischievous stares between you two and the way Heeseung’s arm has been stretched out under the table all of dinner has Jungkook gritting his teeth. Wondering if you’re equally as stupid as her. He purposely drops his fork to give himself an excuse to crouch down and peak under the table.

It’s a little dark and hard to see, but the shine from Heeseung’s bracelet hanging on his wrist is enough to confirm his suspicions. Nestled between your soft parted thighs is his little brother’s hand, jerking up and down with his fingers lodged deep inside of your cunt. Jungkook has to cough to hide his laugh, sitting back up and raising the fork up victoriously. He rubs his stomach and lets out a pleased sound. “I should have come over for dinner sooner. This mac n cheese, so thick and creamy.”

“Oh, your step-sister made that.” His father informs, motioning your direction across the dinner table.

Jungkook’s eyes light up, eyebrows raised as he finds your wide stare. Noting the sweat forming above your eyebrow and your overall flushed appearance. “No wonder.” Taking another bite, he slowly drags the fork between his lips. Letting out a soft moan and winking at you. “You’ll have to let me know the recipe. I love cooking.”

“Pft.” Heeseung grumbles. Followed by a wet sound of skin meeting skin and you jumping in your seat. Eyes fluttering shut as you try to control your breathing. “Shouldn’t you head home soon? Don’t want to hit traffic. I know that drive to the other side of town can be a lot.” He says snarkily, glaring at his sibling.

“Aww, has my little brother finally learned empathy? You never cared when dad forced me to drive you to that gaming center over an hour away.” Jungkook sneers right back at him. The two still for a moment to dissect each other.

Heeseung’s what? 23 years old now? Feels like just yesterday Jungkook was moving out at 21 to pursue boxing, despite his father’s resentment toward his decision. His little brother hadn’t even finished high school yet, still baby faced and lacking confidence.

Now look at him. He’s grown so much, pierced up both of his ears and eyebrow. The apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree, next thing you know this little shits gonna book a tattoo appointment.

“Don’t be ridiculous son, your brother’s spending the night.” Their father interjects, firmly clasping Jungkook’s shoulder. “You know your old bedroom is the guest room now. Your mom spent all of yesterday cleaning and doing laundry to tidy it up for you.”

Jungkook’s mouth twitches, tucking his lips in to stop the grimace that threatens to show. Sliding his father’s hand off, he nods. “Thank you, you really didn’t have to.” Mom. Sick. As if he’d ever call some woman he’s met less than a handful of times his mother.

Heeseung continues to whisper under his breath, folding his arms over his chest clearly annoyed. 

“Son,” motioning to Heeseung to sit up and stop slouching, he snaps his fingers. “I need your help to get Jungkook’s old tv out of the storage closet and take it upstairs.”

“What?! Why can’t he do that??” 

“He’s a guest, and you still live under my roof free of charge.” He says with another snap of his fingers. “Now get your ass up.”

Heeseung’s chair scrapes against the floor, pushing himself back with extra force to make his annoyance known. He shoots his older brother another dirty look and follows after their father to head outside. 

“Don’t worry mom, I’ll clean up everything.” Your sweet soft spoken voice tickles Jungkook's ear. Raising his pierced eyebrow to look at you, he grabs your wrist before you can pick up his plate. 

“Let me help you.”

“Oh,” you stutter, biting back a smile. “It’s okay really, I can handle a few dishes.”

“Sweetie, let your brother help.” Your mom says chipperly, sighing and smiling. “It’s so nice to have siblings finally, right? My poor babies been an only child for so long. Had to learn to be independent at such a young age.”

Firmly nodding your head at her, you stack together a few more plates and turn around heading to the kitchen. Jungkook follows after you, taking his sweet time with each step to really admire what his brother’s been playing with. 

Each stride fans your skirt away from the backs of your upper thigh, drawing his eyes lower, tracing down to your calves and ankles. They look great and would look even better wrapped around his head while you writhe and whimper. “So, how are you liking it here?” He decides to ease your anxiety. Scooting into place next to you by the sink. “Heard you had to make a bit of a move, switch schools.”

“Uhm, it’s..” keeping your chin tucked, you nod and begin to clean off the leftover food. “It’s been okay, Heeseung’s been really helping me to accommodate.” Without looking at him, you hold out a hand for the next plate.

“Oh, I’ll bet.” He quietly laughs, pressing his side against yours. “I’m sure it hasn’t been easy for him either.”

“Mm..” you hum. Keeping yourself distracted with the remaining dishes. 

“You’re so his type.” Jungkook whispers, leaning in closer to your ear. “I’m sure it’s driving him crazy to keep his hands off of you.”

The plate in your hold slips, startling both of you. Immediately apologizing, you attempt to move away and dry off. Stopped by a large tattooed hand gripping onto your arm, he tugs you back to his firm broad chest. Circling his free arm around your waist to lift your hands up. “You cut yourself.” He sighs, breath brushing against your ear. “Poor thing, you’re so jittery around me. Am I making you nervous?”

“N-no..”

After all, how could you be nervous? Not after so shamelessly getting fingered during dinner by your step-brother. “Good, because,” clutching your waist, he moves you around and lifts you up to sit onto the kitchen counter. Biceps flexing and hoisting you up with ease, not even making a sound of exertion. “I’m your big brother now, and I want to take care of you.” He smirks, flicking your chin. “Starting with this boo boo.” 

Calloused palms press against your knees, gently prying your thighs open to make space for himself. He slowly tickles over the tops of your legs to the hem of your skirt, leaving one hand on your hip as he grabs onto your wrist and lifts your cut finger to his mouth. “Looks painful.”

“N-nothing I can’t handle..”

Jungkook’s eyes flicker back to yours, tilting his head as he lifts your finger to his lips. “Is that a threat?”

“I—uh, what?”

Pressing your finger to his bottom lip, he drags the cut across his pink pout. Coating his mouth with metallic tasting red. “You might be able to handle my little brother,” sucking your digit between his lips, he laps at your wound. Dragging the pad of your finger against the middle of his tongue with his big doe eyes focused on your shocked gaze. “But that’s nothing.”

“H-how? How did you—“

“Doesn’t matter.” He shushes you, pressing your cleaned off finger to your mouth. Sliding his palm to cup your ass cheek, he drags you closer. Setting your inner thighs against his hips. “Think that you could handle more?”

————

[blue-lights-to-dreams]

Golden Light (pt. 2) // H.S.

part 2 to Golden Light! please read that first if you haven't already!

synopsis: you and Harry go back to your apartment after your date, and learn a little more about each other in the process.

warnings: smut, kissing, fingering (f receiving), i think that's it?

wc: 3.6k

a/n: the (maybe) long-awaited sequel to Golden Light as so many of you requested! thank you all so much for all of the love on that work, i'm so happy you guys enjoyed it. let me know what you think of this and if you'd like to see a part 3! :)

----------

The crackle of the fireplace (and the wine you were drinking) was almost enough to soothe your nerves. Almost. 

You and Harry were sprawled on your living room floor, backs against the couch, enjoying the heat radiating from the fire as Harry described what he had gotten his family for Christmas this year. It was only the beginning of December, but he had everyone’s gifts already. He was so prepared, and the gifts he picked were so thoughtful. Each came with a backstory of exactly why he chose it, usually after the person mentioned something in passing once or twice. 

A vintage whale-shaped coffee mug for his sister, who’d talked about how much she enjoyed a documentary about them over brunch one day. A beautiful landscape by a local painter for his mother after she admired another of her works when they’d gone to the art museum. He’d even gotten a custom doll made for his goddaughter after she complained one day that none of the ones at the store looked like her.

You’d picked out a riesling from your small stash of wine when you two arrived at your flat, remembering that’s what Harry preferred. You’d quickly changed into soft shorts and a graphic t-shirt, needing out of your dress, before the two of you settled on the floor and fell back into comfortable chatter.

It was probably for the better that he was the one speaking at the moment, because you could feel your head get fuzzier with each sip from your glass. As much as you tried to stay focused, you couldn’t help but run your eyes up his frame. He’d draped his blazer over the back of one of your barstools as he’d come in, leaving him in just his slacks and half-unbuttoned dress shirt. He looked stunning.

Harry noticed the way you were looking at him but elected not to say anything as he continued his story. “I’m really hoping she’s going to like it. How about you? Anything special you’ve gotten for anyone?”

His question snapped you out of your mild stupor, and you racked your brain. “Not really – I’m not nearly as prepared as you are. I only need to get a couple of things, though. Just something for my mom and a few for my friends. Nothing major.”

“No siblings?” He asked.

“Nope. Well, I do have them, but they’re my step-siblings, and I don’t think I’ve seen them since I was like 14 or so. My dad kind of packed them up and ran for the hills with his new wife at that point.” Your statement was blunt, and you picked at the skin around your nails as you explained. It wasn’t anything you had a hard time discussing anymore, given it had been upwards of 10 years. 

“Wow, I’m sorry to hear that,” Harry looked like he didn’t know what to say. You probably should have said that differently, you thought, not wanting to overshare and make him uncomfortable.

“It’s fine, Harry. It was a long time ago, and probably for the better. My mom and I have only gotten closer since then, and I wouldn’t change it.” He nodded in understanding with a small smile but didn’t respond, letting his gaze drift to the artwork hung over the mantle of the fireplace.

A hush fell between the two of you, the noise of the fire and your creaky New York City radiator the only things audible. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, just calm and peaceful. You stood to open the window – the heat was getting to be too much. It was nearing midnight at this point, so there wasn’t much commotion on your street, but the sound of cars driving by now and then was familiar and soothing.

You returned to your seat, slightly closer to Harry than you had been previously. He seemed deep in thought, arm draped lazily over the seat of the couch behind him. His eyes hadn’t left the window after they followed your movement there.

“Whatcha thinking about?” You questioned softly, turning to face him and pulling your knees to your chest, leaning to rest your shoulder against the cushions. You didn’t mean to pry, but you wanted to know what was going on inside that pretty head of his.

“Honestly,” he exhaled, brows furrowing slightly, “you.”

“Me?” Not the answer you’d expected.

“Yes, you,” he spoke with a hint of teasing, flashing a quick smile at you before glancing away. “I was thinking about how long it’s been since I’ve enjoyed myself this much on a date. I really like you, Y/N.” His eyes returned to yours like they were searching for your response.

His earnestness left you speechless for a moment. You stared back at him - his eyes were so green, so beautiful, like waves were crashing against white sand just behind his pupils.

“I like you too, Harry.” He relaxed slightly, shifting his position a hair. “This is definitely the best date I’ve been on in a long time.” You weren’t always great at expressing emotion, but it was only fair for him to know how you felt too.

He grinned, then, and pushed himself up to slide closer to you on the floor. His eyes were still locked on yours, both of you smiling at each other like giddy teenagers. His arm was almost around you now but remained on the couch as you lowered your legs, returning them to a cross-legged position. Harry reached forward, brushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear before allowing his hand to rest gently on the side of your neck, thumb caressing your jawbone slowly. He looked you up and down, again admiring how gorgeous you looked before flitting his eyes to your lips. 

He inhaled briskly, hand not halting its movements on your face. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes, of course. You don’t have to ask, but I appreciate it.” As much as you liked Harry being a gentleman, right now, you honestly just wanted him to be anything but.

He nodded quickly before pulling you forward, pressing his lips to yours. It started with slow, gentle movements of your lips together, but quickly became much more desperate. His hands roamed your face before moving to your waist, gripping the skin above your hips just firmly enough to drive you crazy. Your hands were pressed to his chest over his thin silk shirt, and you could feel the muscles there flex as he moved his hands around your body. You weren’t normally one to care about muscles, but something about his drove you crazy.

Harry’s thumbs brushed your lower ribs as he deepened the kiss, stealing your breath for a moment. Your hands instinctively moved to his hair, fingers knotting through and gently gripping his short curls. A small groan left his throat, shooting straight to your core. His hands suddenly gripped your hips harshly, lifting you to pull you into his lap. He swallowed the small gasp you let out as he did so, flattening his hands on your back to pull you against him as you settled on his thighs. The kiss was sloppy, now, almost depraved, as he tried to pull you as close as physically possible. The way you were tugging his hair was driving him wild, you could tell, and it only encouraged you.

You pulled away from his mouth for just a second as your fingers moved to toy with the small buttons of his shirt. “Can I take this off?”

“Please,” Harry sighed, loosening his grip on you so you had the space to work. As you undid the last button, he pulled away from the couch and shrugged the shirt off, allowing it to fall onto the floor behind him.

He was breathtaking. At dinner, you could see the tattooed heads of what you assumed to be two small birds peeking out from under his shirt, but you weren’t expecting him to have so many more. Those swallows sat just underneath his collarbone, above a large butterfly on his stomach that almost appeared lifelike, the ink stretching and compressing as he breathed. His left arm was nearly covered in various small symbols and words, and you made a mental note to ask about them later. 

Your hands returned to his chest, this time without barriers. The skin there was soft to the touch but you could feel the firm muscle underneath. It was warm. Hot.

The corner of Harry’s mouth twitched as he tried to suppress a smirk at your wide-eyed gaze. After a few seconds of letting you stare, he pulled your lips back to his, unable to wait. It was just as desperate as before.

His large hands slowly slid down your back as your mouths moved together, finding the hem of your shirt before reaching underneath it to grab your hips. The feeling of his warm hands contrasted with the cold metal of the rings he wore, pulling a small gasp from you.

His firm grip on your hips was short-lived as his hands quickly began drifting upwards, thumbs slightly massaging your lower ribs. Fingers splayed on your back, Harry felt you pant into the kiss, unable to catch your breath.

He pulled away for a second, removing his hands from your skin. A small groan escaped you at the loss of warmth, which you hoped Harry didn’t notice. One hand moved to hold your face and the other bunched the hem of your shirt and tugged on it slightly. 

“Can I take this off?” He asked, not breaking eye contact. He needed to make sure you were okay with it, just like he would with whatever else ended up happening that night.

You nodded quickly, helping him lift the shirt over your head and toss it onto the floor beside you. He gripped your shoulders and pushed you away slightly so he could see you.

Harry thought you were stunning. His eyes raked longingly over every inch of you - shoulders, arms, breasts, and stomach, taking it all in. His hands slid off your shoulders to press against your ribs again, thumbs brushing the skin just under your bra. He tore his eyes away from the fabric and skin, gazing at you slack-jawed with blown-out pupils.

“Y’so beautiful, Y/N,” he panted, words slurred slightly from the breathlessness, and your heart just about burst in your chest. You weren’t used to being looked at like this, and it made you nervous, but the look in Harry’s eyes told you there was nothing to be afraid of. He didn’t look like he just wanted to fuck you – he looked like he wanted to worship you.

Instead of a response, you smashed your lips back to his. One of the hands gripping your ribs shifted to cup you over your bra, and you couldn’t help the moan that you let out. This only spurred Harry on as he followed suit, groaning into your mouth. The noise was divine – a low, throaty rumble that went straight to your core.

You needed more of his skin on you. Now. 

You reached behind yourself and unhooked your bra, shaking it off your shoulders until it dropped to the floor on top of your shirt. While you appreciated Harry asking for permission to continue with everything, you couldn’t wait until he worked up the nerve to ask you before feeling his bare hands on your chest.

He took your invitation to continue grasping at your breast, this time with no barrier. A louder moan left you as his thumb brushed over your nipple, electricity pulsing through your veins. Harry groaned into your mouth again, his other hand resting on your ass and bringing it forward until you sat directly on top of his length. It pressed deliciously against you, pulling another gasp from your throat. He was hard beneath you as you ground back on him, hips rocking in sync with the kiss.

You broke away for a moment to catch your breath, continuing to move against him. Your head fell back until you were panting up at the ceiling. Harry wasted no time in connecting his lips with your neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses, licks, and soft bites along it and down to your shoulder blades. The room was quiet apart from the symphony of both of your breathing, the crackle of the fire, and the odd car passing by.

He continued to kiss down your body to the soft tissue of your breast, capturing your nipple in his mouth. The feeling was heaven as his tongue flicked the bud before moving to the other side, his thumb replacing it. His other hand was reaching down your stomach to the button of your shorts, toying with the seams of the fabric. He removed his mouth from you, and you had to hold back a whine of disappointment.

“Is it alright if we get these off of you?” he asked tenderly, staring into you again. You nodded hastily, helping him unbutton them and lifting your hips so he could pull the fabric down your legs and over your knees. You kicked them off, leaving you in just your underwear as he looked you up and down again.

With the layer of fabric gone, your center met his again. You could feel the warmth radiating from his shaft as you pressed onto him, the two of you both groaning in pleasure. The rigid zipper of his pants rubbed firmly against your clit addictively.

A sudden wave of insecurity rushed over you as you realized the situation you’d put yourself in. Here you were, on a blind date with a near stranger, and you were already sitting on top of him in just your underwear while he was still in his pants. It wasn’t like you to give in to a man this quickly, but Harry’s face and smile and body and charm had gotten into your head and pushed away your ability to reason. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be doing this - it was quite the opposite, you were having a lovely time. You just didn’t want Harry to think you were easy, or that this was your plan.

You didn’t realize your movements against Harry had stilled until he was holding your face again, forcing you to look at him. He knew you were in your head about something, and he needed to find out what before taking things any further.

“Y/N, hey, what’s wrong? Do y’need to stop?” His voice was thick with concern as he searched your eyes for discomfort. You shook your head hurriedly, not wanting him to think you weren’t enjoying yourself.

“No, no, I’m fine,” you sighed, face flushing in embarrassment. “I’m just– I’m not usually the type to fuck on the first date. I don’t want you to think that was all I wanted from you.”

“Well, ‘f it helps, I wasn’t planning on having sex with you tonight.” Before you could react negatively (as you were about to) he quickly continued, “I just want to make you feel good tonight. You said you’ve been stressed out all week about work, and I just want to make that go away for you for a while. S’that okay, baby?”

Of course, he knew the perfect thing to say. Your eyes nearly rolled back into your head at how considerate he was, and the pet name at the end was the cherry on top. “That sounds really nice. Thank you, Harry.”

He chuckled before lifting your hips off of his and setting you on the floor next to him, making sure you were close to the fireplace so you didn’t get cold. His hands prompted you to turn your body so you were parallel to the couch. One hand took root in your hair while the other caressed the bare skin on your hip as he kissed you again, slower this time. Harry used your hair as leverage to slowly pull you down until you were on your back on the floor, him slotted between your open legs.

“I want to take care of you, sweetheart, is that okay?” As if you would say no.

Your whiny ‘yes’ was rewarded with his hands caressing your inner thighs slowly, teasingly. You assumed you were noticeably soaked, the baby pink cotton of your underwear unforgiving when it came to hiding your arousal. He massaged the soft skin, moving upwards until his thumb brushed over the fabric’s seam nestled in the crease of your thigh. Your hips moved of their own accord, lifting in search of any friction they could find. Harry tsked quietly, securing a hand on your hip and pushing it back down on the floor.

He rolled onto his side from between your legs, supporting himself on an elbow with his hand cradling your head and wrapping an ankle around your leg to keep them open. His other hand traced a soft line over the wet patch between your legs, fingers brushing your clit with a feather-light touch. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Harry, please,” you whined, trying to regulate your breathing. 

He chuckled teasingly. “What d’you need, baby? Use your words.”

“I need –” you cut yourself off, unsure of why you were embarrassed to say it when you knew he already knew what you wanted. “I need you to touch me, please.”

That was all he needed before he slipped his fingers underneath your underwear and swiped them through your wet folds. The contact was heavenly, forcing a choked moan from your throat as he drew circles around your clit in a precise rhythm. He was obviously experienced, building that warm feeling in your stomach faster than even you could yourself.

“Need these off,” he ordered, tugging your underwear down your legs and helping you kick them off before he hooked an ankle around your knee and spread your legs again. His hand returned to your core, this time with his thumb pressing on your clit and his middle finger teasing your entrance. Your soft groan encouraged him to slide it into you, pulling a myriad of lush sounds from your mouth as he pumped in and out. When he curled his fingers into you and brushed against the spongy patch that felt so good, you thought you were a goner. That was until he slipped his ring finger in alongside his middle and picked up his motions on your clit once more. It didn’t take long at all for you to reach the edge, the feeling building in your insides until you felt like a rubber band about to snap.

“Harry, I’m gonna –” a prolonged moan interrupted your statement.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he spoke softly in your ear, leaving a small kiss on your cheekbone. “Let it go for me.”

That was all you needed. The rubber band inside you snapped, and your orgasm washed over you like a tsunami. You clenched tightly around Harry’s fingers, hips writhing, as he worked you through your release. He whispered praises in your ear but you could barely hear them as the room seemed to disappear, leaving just you and the feeling of Harry’s touch. You had to grip his wrist to remove his hand from you after a few seconds, the continued motion turning overstimulating quickly. 

After taking a moment to catch your breath, you rolled onto your side to throw an arm around Harry’s neck and pull him closer to you. Your nakedness was catching up to you as not even the warmth from the fireplace was enough.

Harry quickly realized how cold you were and turned to grab the throw blanket off of the couch, draping it over both of you. That was something you were quickly learning about Harry – he was very attentive, and he seemed to be able to anticipate your needs before you even realized them yourself.

After a few moments of quiet, the sounds of your breathing mixing with the other ambient noises, you spoke. “Are you sure you don’t want me to do anything for you? I feel bad leaving you, you know, high and dry.”

He laughed, leaning down to press a kiss against your hair. “I promise m’okay, Y/N. What you can do for me, though, is let me clean you up and get you in bed. Our backs are going to kill us tomorrow if we stay on this floor any longer.”

----------

After Harry helped you clean up and change into a fresh pair of pajamas, he slipped out of his trousers, leaving him in just his boxers. You’d both crawled into your bed, and you rested your head against his bare chest as his arm stroked small circles on your shoulder. It took everything in you not to fall asleep, but you didn’t want this night with him to end quite yet.

“Harry?” you whispered, not wanting to disrupt the peaceful atmosphere in the room with your words.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Thank you for everything tonight. It’s been a long time since I’ve enjoyed myself this much, and I just want you to know how much I appreciate that.”

“Y’ don’t have to thank me – I had just as good of a time. You’re really special, Y/N. I’d love to do this again, if you’d let me?”

“Which part?” you laughed, “the dinner part or the after-dinner part?”

“Well, honestly, preferably both.” You were both laughing now, his stomach muscles tensing under your hand. 

“I think I’d be okay with that,” you agreed, knowing deep down you’d probably beg on your hands and knees for him to let you see him again.

“Thank you, baby. Now get some sleep.” He pressed another kiss to your hair and pulled you tighter to his chest, his other hand ensuring the blankets were tucked snugly around your shoulders before he allowed his body to sink back against the pillows. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Harry.” You drifted off to sleep, dreaming of a certain brown-haired boy that you knew wouldn’t be leaving your mind anytime soon.

[insomniadreamzz]

Okay, you asked for freaky shit.

What about Jinx being totally in love and obsessed with fem. Reader secretly loves Jinx as well, but is dating Vi and feels a commitment to her.

Maybe one day Jinx sees Vi and fem kissing and she can’t take it anymore and loses her shit!

She goes back to her hideout and invents a serum that will make fem love her!

Ends with some rough smut 🤭

Idk if this is too dark and freaky 😅 but..…. ummm…… yeah bye

Oop I love dark and freaky stuff so here we go 👀

Jinx xFem!Reader plus little VixFem!Reader for the plot

Mentions of angst, smut, kidnapping, forced love, rough smut, blood, knife play

———

You are mine and only mine

You knew Vi and her sister Jinx for a while now. It’s hard not to since they were pretty popular in Zaun. Everyone knew them but not only in positive ways. Vi gets into fights with others, especially in the Last Drop, her temper was thin and if someone was talking shit about the ones she loved she just had to show them a lesson. Or she just gets provoked by Sevika which was enough to cause a fight with those two. Jinx on the other hand was known for her chaos. Blowing up stuff especially in Piltover and stealing stuff. When Jinx wanted something she will get it and she won’t hesitate at all, using everything she could to achieve her goal.

Even though they were sisters, they always mocked each other and didn’t really have a healthy sister relationship caused by certain events in the past.

You and Vi had a relationship going on but you couldn’t ignore the fact that Jinx began to like you as well. Whenever Vi wasn’t with you, Jinx tried to talk to you and gave you obvious signs that she had a crush on you. Besides being very chaotic and deadly dangerous Jinx was beautiful, her smile always did something to you, you hated it but you couldn’t control what you felt whenever she smiled at you. Slowly you started having a crush on Jinx as well but you weren’t the type of person to cheat. Especially not because you alresdy were engaged to Vi.

„Hey Toots!“ Jinx caught you in the Last Drop hanging out without Vi and of course she took the chance to talk to you. She was always like the wind, appearing out of nowhere as she suddenly sat beside you. The usual happy smile on her face which made your heart do a flip but you ignored your feelings at this point. „Oh hey Jinx.“ You answered, turning on your seat. „What ya doin here? Aren’t you supposed to be with Vi?“ She asked and you just nod your head in response. „Yes she will join me soon.“ You answered her and her pink eyes traveled down to your finger, seeing a ring on it which made her bite her own lower lip, you noticing she didn’t like it at all, knowing what it meant. „Is that from Vi?“ She asked with a more lower tone, her usual quirky voice changing abruptly. Your gaze went down to look at the ring, forcing a smile on your face. „Yes. Me and Vi are engaged.“ You said and Jinx‘s facial expression dropped, making you worry she would flip but she stayed calm which surprised you as she forced a grin on her face but she looked more creepy than anything else. „O-Oh? I didn’t know. Congrats.“ Her voice being a little shaky, she wanted to scream. You on the other hand didn’t know what to answer and luckily Vi appeared, finally joining you as she hugged you from behind. „Hey my beautiful girl“ She said and you turned to your fiancé, Vi leaning down to press a kiss on your lips, right in front of Jinx.

The blue haired woman bit the inside of her cheek hard, tasting her own blood. She was boiling inside, standing up from her seat. „I will give you more privacy. Have fun.“ She spat out her words disgustedly, leaving the last drop with rage inside of her, leaving you and Vi alone.

Jinx paced around in her hideout, mumbling various things to herself, her usual insane behavior. „They are engaged…she is mine though…Vi must have manipulated her…there is no way she doesn’t love me back.“

‚You aren’t good enough for her‘ She heard the voice in her head and that made her snap. „SHUT UP!“ She screamed as she threw a few of her tools off her table in rage, a little insane chuckle escaping her lips. „Oh no…no she is mine. MINE!“ She yelled once again, her gaze moving to a piece of paper on her table which she wrote down a plan to get you to love her. A plan for inventing a serum which was like a love potion. She wanted to do this a long time ago but she hesitated…long enough. Now it’s not too late, you are only engaged, she can still do something about it. Her fingers digging on the table as she looked down at the piece of paper, a few tear drops falling on it, her body shaking of rage. „Sorry sis…but you are engaged with my girl…I won’t let you marry her.“ She talked to herself before sitting down on her chair and started to work on her plan.

You were walking along the streets of Zaun alone, Vi was on a mission up in Piltover so you got bored and just wanted to take a walk which will turn out to be a huge mistake. Generally Zaun wasn’t the most save place to walk around, all those shimmer addicts hanging out in the dark corners of the streets, begging to get some of it. You were used to it though, not paying attention to their pleas. Suddenly something hard hit your head, making you whine in pain and made you black out in seconds as you fell to the ground.

The pain in your head got worse, your vision blurry as you opened your eyes to find yourself tied up on a chair, as your vision got a little more clear you noticed your surroundings being not familiar to you but the graffities drawn everywhere where familiar to you. Tools everywhere, creepy self made dolls of people you didn’t recognize hanging around and a lot of weapons. Some finished some halfway finished. You took in a familiar scent as you heard footsteps getting closer to you from behind and soon the person stood in front of you, looking down at you with a dark smile. „Look who is awake.“ Jinx said as she then placed herself on your lap.

„J-Jinx?? Why did you do this??“ You asked and she just chuckled as she wiped the blood coming from the wound of your forehead. „Because I love you. Isn’t that obvious?“ She cooed and you furrowed your eyebrows, not really understanding her. „You kidnap me because you love me? That’s a weird way of showing love don’t you think?“ You couldn’t believe she really did that, you knew she was crazy but that still surprised you. „I just saved you from doing the biggest mistake of your life. Marrying the wrong person.“

Your eyes widened in shock, she really went this far because of jealousy? „I love Vi!“ You said, making Jinx roll her eyes in response. „Uh huh…sure you do. And why did you always look at me with that intense gaze when she isn’t around? Come on don’t lie to yourself toots, you love me.“ She said and you knew she wasn’t wrong. You had a crush on Jinx as well but you were promised to someone else and breaking Vi‘s heart is not what you wanted to do. Stupid of you to marry her even though you didn’t love her to only not break her heart.

„So…are you still going to lie directly into my face? Or will you finally tell me about your true feelings?? Because I really don’t want to hurt you baby.“ She tried to give you a last chance but you just couldn’t. You promised Vi to be hers and forever hers so you refused to say anything, moving your face away when Jinx tried to kiss you, making her groan in frustration. „Ugh…you really are hard to convince aren’t you? Well then let’s go the painful path.“

Jinx didn’t hesitate as she rammed a needle into your neck, making you yelp at the sudden pain, you could feel she injected something into you but since your hands were tied behind your back you couldn’t push her off no matter how much you squirmed. Your body started to feel hot as you panted, feeling your limbs getting numb and slowly losing your vision again, Jinx holding you close as she whispered softly to you. „Shh…it’s gonna be alright. I know it hurts but the pain will go away and we will be together forever…you are mine and I won’t let you go ever…“

Your dizziness fading, eyes opening as you looked into Jinx’s eyes and when you looked at her beautiful face you felt so in love, more like you ever loved someone before. The memories of you and Vi together fading. She caressed your face with her cold fingers, admiring the look on your face, looking into your with love filled eyes, showing she succeeded. „You belong to me…“ She mumbled and you smiled, her words suddenly meaning so much to you. „Of course I am..“ You answered and that made her realize she really succeeded this time with her invention, looking like she was about to cry as she crashed her lips against yours, finally kissing you, feeling your warm lips on hers. She hummed softly into the kiss. „Mhh…this is all I ever wanted…“ She cooed before connecting your lips again. You kissed each other passionately, your tongues fighting with dominance as you both felt aroused, soft moaning escaping both of your lips into the kiss.

With a swift movement Jinx cut the rope with a knife which held your hands tied together. Once your hands were free they traveled up and down her body, sending shivers down the blue haired girls body, making her bite her lower lip before she looked at you with a smirk, the tip of her knive pointing against your throat. „I will make you never forget this…and never forget who you belong to.“ She said before dragging you to her couch, throwing down all of things on it which would only disturb you so you have enough space. As soon as you laid on your back she removed all of your clothes, looking at your exposed body like a predator would look at it’s prey. „What you waiting for love? Make me never forget this.“ You said, really wanting this and you calling her love made Jinx‘s heart skip a beat. She wanted this for so long, hearing you call her names, touching your body, hearing you moan.

„Impatient aren’t we?“ She chuckled before leaning down to place kisses on your neck, making you gasp at how rough they were, feeling her teeth bite at your skin, leaving marks everywhere around your neck and chest. But there was still something that Junx didn’t like on you, the ring. When she leaned up once again to look at your weak expression, seeing how your chest already rose up and down in excitement she took your hand in hers, removing the ring from your finger and throwing it across the room. „Now we can continue.“ She mentioned before running the blade of her knife gently down along your stomach, seeing your body tensing up before she stopped the blade right above your pussy.

„Tell me you love me.“ She demanded as she poked the tip of her knife into your flesh, threatening you but you didn’t have anything to worry about since you obeyed. She would probaby hurt you with the knife if you refused but you were drunk in love with her. „I love you, only you.“ You answered and she finally knew this is real, tossing the knife away before she went down on your body, getting her head between your thighs as she bit down on the soft flesh of your inner thighs, maybe a bit too harsh since she made it bleed, making you whimper at the playful pleasure, her tongue licking over the little wound, tasting your blood but there was something more she craved to taste for eternity. Her tongue gently licking along your wet slit, the moment her tongue reached for your clit you moaned softly. She was focused on fucking you with her mouth as she licked you harder like she was starving for it before kissing and sucking your clit, tongue slipping inside of you, making you moan louder as you threw your head back, squirming under her which made Jinx pull back, her needy gaze driving you crazy. „Just wait for a little more baby, I want us to come together.“ She mentioned before sitting up, taking off her clothes now, exposing herself now to you. You never saw someone this beautiful, she was just a goddess in your eyes, wanting to touch her so bad. „You are gorgeous my love…“ You whispered loud enough for her to her, a little blush appearing on her face but she never lost her dominance. „My love…that sounds beautiful…that’s what I wanted“ She talked to herself but you didn’t mind it, letting her continue as she got on top of you, slowly grinding her wetness against yours, making both of you whine softly at the good feeling. Jinx pulled you up to her, kissing you as both of you were grinding against each other, filling the room up with wet needy sounds, going almost crazy whenever your clit is rubbing against hers. The only thing that could be heard of you were needy muffled moaning sounds as you fucked each other like that, not wanting to leave the kiss.

Only when you both were close to cum, your lips parted as you moaned out. „F-Fuck!…m…cumming…!“ She whined before you came on esch other, your bodies trembling before collapsing on each other.

You laid in each others arms, cuddling for a while before Jinx got her usual attitude back, grinning as she looked down at you. „Heh…I got something way better for you.“ She mentioned before leaning to the side, getting something which looked like a ring she made herself with her name engraved on it. She didn’t even ask you as she slipped it on your finger. „Now you‘re my fiancee. We are going to marry and be happy forever.“ She just decided herself but you were so addicted to her by the serum she injected in you, not caring about anything else in this moment. „Of course we will stay forever. I can’t wait to marry you. I love you Jinx.“ You said before kissing her and she kissed you back, so in love with you and she will make sure no one will take you from her.

[lillypad910]

Christmas with the Emersons

Eddie Munson x Emerson! Girly! Fem! Reader

Part 2 of Brother's Best Friend!

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!! Smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, pin, protected sex (follow their example!), a lot of fluff, giggly cuteness, Christmas celebrations, not pre-read, might have errors, Reader is Gareth's little sister

Summary: After 6 months of dating Eddie, you're reminded of the Christmas get together your family throws every year. This time, Eddie is invited- or, "your boyfriend" is, since your family isn't aware of that person being Eddie Munson yet. Will they be excited for you? Or will your brother have something to say about it?

a/n: this took so long and I know its late but shush.

Big thanks to my girl Mare at @munsonsmixtapes for giving me her time to help me wrap this bitch up!

It is December 1st of 1992, the cold air outside leaks through your not-greatly-sealed windows into your apartment. Your heater broke on you last week, and you’ve been waiting for the landlord to send a guy to fix it. Fortunately, your new-ish boyfriend was kind enough to stick around until it’s fixed.

Lounging across the couch, on top of your boyfriend, Eddie, you bury yourself into his chest. He chuckles as your hair spreads across his skin, pulling the blanket that’s wrapped around you both more over your shoulders. “You ok, sweetheart?” He asks, running his fingers through your hair to clear a spot for you to look up at him through.

You do so, blowing air to push a strand he missed out of the way, “No, I’m cold.” You give him a playful glare, not actually meaning it, of course.

“Aww, I’m sorry,” he wraps his arms around you more snuggly, “I know another way to warm you up…” he smirks. Your cheeks flush, slapping your forehead against his chest once again, making him laugh.

To be honest, even though you and Eddie have been dating for 5 months now, since that fateful concert back in June, you haven’t done anything…physical. Besides the heated make out sessions and getting to your underwear before backing out. Thankfully, Eddie is really understanding about it all.

“Not… yet.” You mentally groan out the words, straining your brain.

His lips press to your forehead, smiling softly, “I know, Sweetheart, I was just teasing.” He pulls you closer to him, sitting up in his spot on the couch. He places his finger around your chin pulling you towards him, pressing his lips to yours. You hum into the kiss, still amazed at how you were able to actually start dating your teenage-self’s crush.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you, as his tongue swipes your bottom lip. Just as his tongue breaches your lips- your phone rings.

You groan, dropping your head to his shoulder for a second before pushing off of him, yanking the blanket with you. He is yanked off the couch in the process, a soft yelp leaves him as you make your way to the counter where your phone is stationed.

“Hello?” You answer, holding the phone to your ear.

“Hey, Sweetie! It’s Mom!” Your mother’s recognizable voice echos through the speaker, her cheerful attitude as perky as ever.

“Hey, Mom,” you glance at Eddie as his head pops up to look at you as you address who you are talking to, “What’s up?”

“Oh nothing much, just trying to figure out what we are all doing for this year’s Christmas party, you know. Now that Garrett is married, you have a whole new boyfriend none of us have met before, everything’s different.”

You never told your family who you were dating, not even his name. You just said you started seeing someone, and that you promised they would meet him when you brought him home. You didn’t think about the Christmas party your parents host every year when you made that promise. That’s bad planning on your end.

“Oh yeah…” you hesitate, “I honestly kinda forgot, haha…” your mom hums in response.

“I figured as much, but not to worry! I’ve already got your room all ready for you to arrive in two weeks. And when you and that mysterious boy get here, you can help us go pick out a tree, decorate it, help me prep meals and all the goodies for-“

Your mother talks on and on about all the tasks you will have to do when you get there. You like Christmas, you really do, especially when you were still at home and could help your mom prepare everything so early in the month to make sure everything was perfect. “The Emerson Way” as your dad called it, perfection was the only outcome for Christmas. But god, did you just wanna stay home, in your cold apartment with your warm-bodied boyfriend.

“Mom,” you call out to her, and she shushes herself quickly, “let me talk about it with him, ok? I need to be sure he can even come this year.” You explain.

She gasps, “Oh my lord, of course!! I’ll let you go so you can give him a call. I love you!”

“Love you, Mom.” You hang up the phone.

Obviously you are not about to call Eddie Munson’s apartment, so you turn around. “Eds, code red. It’s Christmas.” Eddie looks at you confused, finally lifting himself off the ground.

“Yeah? I know, it’s December.” He chuckles a bit.

“No, Eddie, you don’t get it. It’s Christmas. The Emerson’s Christmas Party?” You gesture to your phone as you watch him blink.

God, you love him but sometimes his brain is ‘head empty, no thoughts’.

“Sweetie,” you step closer to him, placing your hands on the sides of his face. “My family hosts a party every Christmas Eve. I’m a required guest, and now so are you.” It hits him.

“Oh- Oh no.” Eddie hasn’t spoken to your brother, his ex best friend, in six years. At the time they were besties you were a simple 16 year old girl that he never thought of as more than just ‘Gareth’s little sister.’ Now you’re his girlfriend. “Oh I’m dead. Oh sweetheart, he’s gonna kill me.” Eddie hisses in a breath, wrapping his arms around himself. He may have just been cold but you also think it’s because he’s genuinely uncomfortable with this news.

“He’s not gonna kill you, Gareth doesn’t have the heart for that. Besides, Cindy wouldn’t let him even if he tried. Can’t have her husband in jail with a baby on the way.” You let out a soft laugh, trying to joke.

“Eds, I promise it will be fine.” You give his nose a soft kiss. “When do we leave…?” He asks, eyes wide with anticipation. “Two weeks…?” You awkwardly smile. He yelps.

The two weeks fly by fast, and before you know it, it’s December 14th and you’re passing the ‘Wecome to Hawkins’ sign as you cross over the town line.

“Haven’t seen that sign in a while.” Eddie speaks genuinely, it has been 6 years since he was last in Hawkins.

“Oddly enough I’ve seen it more in recent years than I ever did living in Hawkins.” You explain to him, watching the trees pass the car as you come into familiar territory.

Driving up the long driveway of your home you see a familiar car parked outside, your brother’s car. You and Eddie glance at each other, before turning off the car and stepping out onto the pavement into the cold crisp air of Hawkins, Indiana.

You don’t grab your luggage just yet, too nervous to bother with it right now. As you step towards the front door, Eddie follows close after.

It’s weird, he’s always felt welcomed at your house in the past, felt like part of the family. But now he feels like a total stranger, like a bear stepping into a bush with a hidden trap.

You ring the doorbell, rolling back and forth on your heels as you wait impatiently for the bright smile of your mother. “Coming!!” You hear a sing-song voice call out, and you’re both able to get in one final deep breath before the front door opens.

“(Y/n)!” Your mother opens the door, all smiles like usual, pulling you into a hug, “It’s so good to see you, dear!” She pulls away and looks up at Eddie. “Well as I live and breathe!” She smiles at him. “Is that really you, Eddie Munson? My, you’ve grown quite a lot!” She holds up her hand to graze his head before pulling him into a bone crushing hug.

“It’s good to see you too, Mrs. Emerson.” Eddie hugs her back.

When she pulls away she smiles happily, “Oh, please, call me Donna, Eddie. I’ve known you since you were a kid! It’s only fair.” She turns back to you after patting his arm. “Sweetie, I thought you said you were bringing your boyfriend? Not that I’m complaining, Eddie Munson is forever a welcome face in this house,” she smiles at him again before facing you once more.

“Mom,” you smile at her, “meet my boyfriend.” You gesture to Eddie beside you. “Eddie.”

Donna Lynn Emerson looks up at Eddie, her smile growing wider before her eyes close and few words leave her breath, “Oh thank you, Jesus.” “What?” You ask. “Sweetie, I love you, you know that,” you mom pats your arm, “but when you told us you weren’t gonna tell us anything about your boyfriend until we met him, we all thought he was gonna be some biker or gang member.”

She turns to Eddie and taps the side of her head, “Parents brains go to the worst outcomes.” “So… you’re not mad…?” You ask, a little shocked by the chill reaction.

“(Y/n), you’ve had a crush on this boy since you were 14. You’re living the teenage girl dream, Sweetie, I don’t judge.” She smiles at you, “Besides, It’s Eddie. I know his Uncle, knew his dad, his mom, shit I knew this kid’s grandma on both sides.” She laughs to herself.

“But we are four years apart…? That doesn’t concern you?” Your mom’s face go dead serious, making the both of you jump at the sudden change in expression.

“Sweetie, I’m 7 years younger than your dad, and we married when I was 19. You’re a 22 year old woman who can make her own choices.”

“Anyways!! Come in!! Get out of the cold!” She drags you both into the house.

Stepping into the familiar entry way, you take off your coats and shoes, sitting them by the door and respectable hooks. You mother leads you both into the kitchen, where you are met with a very familiar face.

“Cindy!” You smile and run up to the girl, throwing your arms around her. “(Y/n)!! Hi!” Cindy laughs and pulls you to her, but you be careful not to squish her too hard on her belly.

Gareth and Cindy got married nearly two years ago now during February of 1991. They met 5 years ago when Gareth moved away for college. You will never forget that Christmas of 1988 when you met her, been friends ever since. You honestly questioned who side you would be on if they divorced. You love your brother, but it’s Cindy.

“How have you been? I’m sorry I wasn’t able to call you last week, life got a little hectic.” She laughs running her hand over her baby bump.

“I’ve been good! And no worries! My heater broke a couple weeks ago so I’ve been just shivering in the cold since then, honestly this might be my vacation.” You laugh a bit.

She giggles before turning her attention to Eddie, “This must be the guy!!” She holds out her hand to him, “So lovely to finally meet you! (Y/n) never told us your name so I apologize for the awkwardness of the family.”

Eddie shakes her hand, smiling at her, “oh it’s fine, I actually-”

“Munson?” A voice comes from behind you all and Cindy tilts her head.

You both turn around and there in the door way is your dear brother. “Shit. Holly shit!” Gareth, as if reverting back to 17 practically tackles his old friend. “Dude! It’s been what? Almost seven years? Where the fuck did you go?” He pulls away, smacking his old friend’s arm.

Eddie looks like a relief was weighed off him, “I needed to get out of town, moved to Indianapolis, been living there ever since, though I’ve actually gone on tour a few times now.” Eddie snickers and Gareth chuckles.

“Yeah, no shit! Jeff and I found out there was a band called ‘Corroded Coffin’ and nearly fainted!” He turns to his wife who smiles at him. “Oh! Eddie,” Gareth squeezes through the two of you, wrapping his arms around the woman your age, “meet Cindy. She’s my wife.” He’s practically glowing when sharing this knowledge.

Eddie tilts towards you and not even bothering to whisper goes, “I see why you say they are meant for each other.” You snicker and Gareth glares at you.

A moment of laughter washes over all of you though, but Gareth stops first, “so, why are you here, man? Not that I’m complaining, just-“

“Oh!” Eddie, blissfully innocent Eddie, smiles at his old best friend before throwing his arm around your shoulders. “I’m (y/n)’s mystery boyfriend! Isn’t that cool?” As if clockwork, Gareth’s arms drop from his wife, his smile drops, and he stares at Eddie.

“I’m sorry,” he glances at you before looking back at the tall guy, “repeat that?”

“Eds-“ you go to press your arm against him.

“I’m her boyfriend! Isn’t that cool?” Eddie chuckles a bit, obviously more nervous than the first time he said it.

“You son of a-“ Gareth doesn’t even finish before tackling him, arm wrapped around his neck, locking him in a choke hold. Eddie flails around like a fish out of water, “I told you she’s off limits! When the fuck in all those years did I stutter!”

Gareth bumps into everything almost knocking over Grandma’s vase before, “Gareth!” The entire house goes silent. Your mother, the sweet woman that she is, struts into the kitchen and practically rips your brother off your boyfriend. “Eddie, dear, are you ok?”

“Him!?” Gareth yells, utterly shocked.

“Yes, Gareth! Him!” She glared at him, making your brother’s back go pencil straight.

Gotta hand it to Mom, she’s a sweet one, but god damn you don’t wanna be in the cross fire of her glare.

“I’m ok, Mrs. Emerson.” Eddie rubs the back of his neck, “kinda deserves that honestly.” He lets out a chuckle.

“I’m sorry,” you step forward, turning towards the nitwit you call a brother. “Off limits?”

“Oh,” Gareth hesitates, “I made the guys promise to never date you. I know them, trust me you don’t wanna know everything about them.” You gesture to Eddie.

“Kinda been living under the same roof with this one for a good few weeks now, trust me what ever you know, I know.” Eddie blushes covering his face in his hands.

“Sweetheart, no…” He knew what Gareth was meaning, and god knows you have not discovered yet.

“What?” You question.

“I hate to ask, but if I don’t it’s gonna bother me,” Gareth takes a deep breath, “Have you two-“

“no!” You speak a little too quickly for everyone in the room, “no… not- oh my god, Gareth. Why are you like this?” You hold your head in your hands.

Gareth raises his hands up defensively. “Sorry.”

It doesn’t take long for everyone to get comfortable again. Gareth takes Eddie out to the garage with your dad and talks, you, your mom, and Cindy all stand around the kitchen, helping your mom do some Christmas baking.

“So,” your mom smiles at you, “Where did you meet Eddie again? He mentioned living in Indianapolis?” You roll the rolling pin over the homemade cookie dough on the counter, pressing it flat.

“Steph had tickets to his show, though I didn’t know it was his show when she invited us.” You explain, checking the width of the flattened dough.

“That’s fun! Did you meet him during the show?”

“Half time, and then met up with him again after. Jenny was there too.”

“How is Jenny? I haven’t seen her in a while.” Your mother changes the subject.

“Good, she’s dating this new guy, I’ve met him once. He’s cool.”

“Good for her.” Your mother smiles.

Cindy comes up by you with the container of cookie cutters. You both take a few and start cutting out Christmas shapes from the dough. “It’s good to have you home.” Cindy nudges you with her shoulder, “This town is so boring without you.”

“Aww, thanks, Cindy.” You smile at her.

“Your father has been a pain, claiming he needs to come see you every week. I kept telling him off about it.” Your mother jumps in.

“Gareth too, when you called us and complained about your heating being out, he was about to drive down and come fix it for you.” Cindy chimes in. You giggle at their claims, happy to know your brother and father still want to take care of you even though you’re a good bit away now.

After a little more baking and cookie decorating, the men come back in from the garage, beers empty and ready to eat. Eddie steps over to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and hugging you from behind. He leans down and kisses your cheek. “Having fun?” You ask him, smiling at the small kiss.

“Yeah, it’s nice to catch up with your dad and Gareth.” He leans his head against yours.

After you all eat, your mother notices the time, and quickly shoos everyone off to bed. “We need to get up bright and early! Tree shopping isn’t going to do itself!”

You step up to your old room, Eddie close behind you as you open the door. “Whoa,” Eddie mumbles from behind you. You look across the room. It’s the exact same, the pink walls, white carpet, and baby blue bed spread.

“Don’t judge,” you glance back at him before stepping in, dropping your bag - that you finally got from the car - onto the floor.

Eddie steps into the room, glancing around at the pictures you have on your walls. There’s a painting he remembers you painted in art in your Freshman year, the mirror over your dresser, and a ABBA poster taped on your closet door.

As he steps closer to your mirror, he looks over the photos tucked into the frame. Pictures of you and Jenny in middle school, you and Gareth in the yard as little kids, and one more. You and him, a picture Gareth took the night you were at their concert back then. He was smiling at the camera in that picture, his arm thrown over your shoulders.

“That’s cute.” You look over at him, seeing the photo he points to.

“Oh- um, yeah…” you feel your cheeks heating up, looking back down at your bag. Eddie steps closer to you, placing his hand on you cheek and pulling you closer to him. His lips press to your forehead, soft and sweet.

“You’re cute,” his words are simple but to the point. “You make it hard to forget,” you let out a soft laugh.

The next morning, you wake in your old bed, the alarm on your night stand ringing out. You press the ‘off’ button before throwing yourself back against the mattress. You look over to where you left your boyfriend last night, but the spot is already empty. Then, the door to your room opens.

Stepping into the dim room, Eddie smiles at you with a mug in hand, “good morning, sweetheart. I brought you some coffee.” He makes his way around the bed as you sit up, before hanging the mug over to you.

Taking it you look down at the contents of the mug. “You didn’t have to do that, Eds, but thank you.”

“Of course!” He crouches down by the bed, smiling like a kid in a candy store as you take your first sip.

“Mm! You’re making my coffee every morning now. This is so good.”

After a semi-slow morning, you come downstairs fully dressed and ready for the day, your family all ready in the kitchen. “Finally, the bear leaves her cave.” Gareth snickers. You roll your eyes at him, “Oh, shut up.”

Your family piles into your mom’s Chevy Suburban. Your dad driving, mom shotgunning, Cindy and you in the middle row, and Eddie and Gareth in the back. The ride is nice, your mom having the Christmas station playing on the radio, with you and Cindy (mostly) perfectly singing every song it plays. Gareth and Eddie banging their hands against the back of your seats to the beat.

After your dad pulls the SUV into the local “Mary’s Trees,” the place everyone in Hawkin’s buys their Christmas trees, you all fumble out of the brick on wheels, Eddie nearly falling out himself. You all are quickly greeted by an associate, one you remember well from high school.

“Welcome, Emerson Family!” Tiffany Fraser, a girl who was on the cheer squad in your high school, smiles and greets your mom and dad with open arms. Her blond hair blown out and curled, perfectly pulled back into a high pony tail. “Coming by a little later this year, but don’t worry, I have some perfect trees to show you!”

Your mother smiles at Tiffany and loops arms with her before letting herself be dragged off, “Please share! I’ve been dying to get decorating!”

It doesn’t take long for your parents and brother to begin to make their way through the forest of Christmas trees for sale. You take this opportunity to fall back and hang with your obviously intrigued boyfriend.

Eddie’s eyes dart all around the area, the subtle glitter in his eye reminds you of childhood wonder. “You doing ok, Eds?” You ask him, stepping into an easy pace with him as you both follow behind your family.

“Hmm?” Eddie’s head snaps to your direction, before getting distracted again, “Yeah, yeah… didn’t realize how many trees would be here. How do you pick just one?”

You blink. What?

“What do you mean?” The question came out a little more harsh than you intended but you were genuinely confused, “have you never been tree shopping before?”

“I mean…” Eddie hesitates.

He had gone with his uncle Wayne once to pick out a tree. Though it was in a box and he had gotten it from one of the few chain stores in Hawkins. It’s a memory he will hold on to forever.

“Once. With Wayne, but it was a fake tree. I didn’t realize people actually bought real trees to decorate.” His eyes glance over the rows and rows of living trees that the farm has on display.

Something about that made you feel weird. You never even thought about that. Eddie grew up in the trailer park down the road with his Uncle Wayne. They wereon the poorer side, not having much money and Eddie mostly wearing hand-me-downs from Wayne until he could buy his own clothes. For some reason you didn't realise how different you two grew up. But suddenly this Christmas tree meant more to you.

"Hey, Mom?" You get your mother's attention, and she turns to you, stopping her conversation with Tiffany.

"Yes, dear?" Her voice is as joyful as always.

“In honor of Eddie joining us this year, can he pick the tree?" You know you're asking for a lot from your family, especially your mother. Donna Lynn loves Christmas. She loves to have full control over it.

"What a great idea!" Her voice seems to go higher, causing people around you to glance over, "Of course! Eddie, please do us the honors of picking out the tree this year!" Eddie glances at you with a look of pure concern. You pat his back lightly and lead him towards the front of the party. "Tiffany, you remember Eddie from high school, right?" Your mother asks her.

You remember Tiffany hated your brother and his friends in high school, and now she was being made to be nice to him.

"I do, nice to see you again, Eddie." Tiffany smiles and you can tell its a bit strained. She continues with, "Let me show you some trees they might like, that way you at least know you did something right..." The second part was mumbled under her breath, but you heard it, and so did Eddie based on his expression.

"What was that?" You ask, quite loudly so your mother looks over, interested. "Hmm?" Tiffany looks over at you, "oh nothing, just speaking to myself, haha." She turns around quickly after getting a weird look from your mother, but luckely no further comment was made.

It takes a while of Tiffany showing the metalhead different trees, him getting your mother's input before he finally decides on a wide 7ft tree. The cielings in your house were taller downstairs so your mom told him it was alright. When you got home, the boys help move the tree into the living room, while your mom, Cindy, and you migrated to the kitchen. The first thing you noticed on the island was the Christmas recipe tin from your Granny.

"Are we making anything tonight?" Cindy asks, situating herself on one of the stools as she opens the tin to go thorugh the recipes. You walk up behind her and lean over her shoulder.

“We can, but it will have to make something that will be fine for the next week." Donna replies, washing her hands at the kitchen sink. "Any ideas?" Cindy looks up to you.

"Maybe the Peanut Brittle? Ohh, or the Buckeye Balls!" You snatch the recipe card for the Reese's-like recipe out of the tin the moment you see it.

Your mother giggles, "You did always like that one... How about this, Cindy and I make the Brittle, and you and Eddie make the Buckeye Balls?" your mother suggests. You smile, excited to finally have the best holidy treat just sitting in the fridge, begging to be eaten by none other than yourself.

Eddie comes in with Gareth and your dad, who both walk straight up to their wifes. "Tree is up and ready to be decorated!" Your father sallutes your mother, making her giggle. He kisses her cheek before stepping over to the fridge and pulling out a coke.

"That tree was heavy..." Eddie steps up to you from behind and sits his chin on your shoulder, "Gareth and I both had to hold it straight while your dad bolted it into the stand, but damn."

You nod, leaning your head onto his, "hmm, now think how my dad feels doing that every year while we were kids, and Gareht didn't start helping until he was thirteen." You glance over at your brother who shuffles through the recipe cards.

"Don't look at me like that." Gareth doesn't even look up at you.

“How do you always know?" You ask, which inclines him to turn to you.

"I can feel the burning rays of your eyes staring straight into my head. You've never been a subtle starer."

You smack your hand to your chest, faking insult. "How dare you! I'm an amazing starer!"

Gareth rolls his eyes before looking at Eddie. "This is who you're settling for?"

Oh now you're insulted. "Hey-!"

"Enough!" Your mother gets your attention, making both you and Gareth look over at her, "I'm stopping that before it even begins... God, behave, both of you." 'Behave' was strained, you'd obviously annoyed her with your sibling banter. "Eddie, (y/n), you two make the Buckeyeballs. Gareth, Cindy, would you two make the Peanut Brittle?"

"Of course!" Cindy gives her award winning smile, but your brother just hums in response. "Thank you."

"Wait, what are you and dad gonna go do?" Gareth asks, his teenage self coming through, and you swear you just experienced some deja vu.

“Mom and I are gonna go sit our asses on the cough. You two know the kitchen and where everything is." Your dad answers for your mom.

"Exactly!" She jumps in with a smile, starting to push him towards the living room. "We're old, Gareth! We need a break!"

"You are not old!" Gareth yells as they go through the arch of the kitchen, "And they are gone..."

“Yup" you respond, not even really shocked about your parents ditching you.

“If we were under fifteen I'd say we might be safe to assume a nother sibling before next year, but-"

"Gareth! Ew!" Cindy interrupts.

"Oh please, you’re pregnant, Cin."

You shake your head at your brother's comeback, “I agree it’s gross, I never wanna think about our parent's sex life." Gareth just shruges.

As the four of you look over your recipe cards and begin to pull out the ingredients you need - or rather, you and Gareth get out everything you need - Cindy sets up some Christmas music to play on the stereo in the kitchen corner, while Eddie helps her pick out the first song. It doesn't take long for Jingle Bell Rock to be echoing through the house.

Gareth hogs the stove, heating up his sugar mixture for the Brittle, bickering back and forth with you because he refuses to let you start melting your semi-sweet chocolate chips. Cindy is prepping the pans for you all to use, linning then each with some parchment paper. Eddie is already mixing up the powder sugar, peanut butter, softened butter, and vanila in a large bowl, aproned up - per your request - so he doesnt get dusts of sugar on his new Metalica shirt.

It takes a while, but soon the goodies are done and you are able to finally take a seat.

You and Eddie take refuge on the couch, him laying across first with you laying over him. Gareth takes your dad’s chair, with Cindy sitting just on the arm.

“Well at least we’ve got it done.” Cindy smiles, brushing some of Gareth’s hair out of his face.

“Yeah, still kinda pissed mom and dad didn’t help. Those bitches.” Gareth glares in the direction of the stairs.

Your parents called it a night about two hours ago, coming in the kitchen to say goodnight to you all before shuffling up the stairs giggling like a couple of high schools. It was a little unnerving if you had to be entirely serious with yourself.

“Oh, let them enjoy themselves. They deserve a break after dealing with you for your entire childhood.” Cindy kisses his forehead, earning herself a scoff from your brother but a few well deserved chuckles from you and Eddie.

“I was not the problem child!” Gareth tries to defend himself, glancing over at you. You can’t even defend yourself before Cindy follows up.

“Yes you were.” She smiles at him, glowing under the soft lamp light. “But hey, at least you have your sibling as your child. We’re gonna have a well behaved kid. Poor (y/n) gets you.” She nuzzles into him a bit.

You have to admit, Cindy and your brother were adorable. They perfectly balanced each other, with his annoying antics and her sweet personality.

“Well,” Cindy stands back up after a few more minutes, “I say it’s bed time! Lord knows your mother will come barging into our rooms in the morning.” She does a quick stretch before taking Gareth’s hand, pulling him up from his spot. “Goodnight you two! Go to bed soon.” Cindy calls out, dragging the (in denial) man-child up the stairs.

“Goodnight!” You and Eddie call back, watching as Gareth mumbles annoyances under his breath to his wife, who just giggles and waves him off.

“They’re an interesting pair.” Eddie smiles to himself, his arms gripping a bit tighter around your waist.

“They are. But they’re cute.” You express, leaning your head back on his chest. Eddie hums.

His eyes roam down to you as you lay there over him. Your fingers drum over his, playing with his rings, the metal cold to the touch. He cant help but feel a warmth rise in him at the sight of you, the little bit of chocolate still on the corners of your mouth from licking the spoon from your kitchen adventure.

You abruptly turn around, sitting up and straddling his lap, your knees now placed on the outer sides of his thighs. He feels his heart pick up, suddenly nervous as you face him, a soft smile on your lips.

“We should probably go too-“ you’re cut off when Eddie’s lips press to yours. You gasp, caught off guard by the suddenness. His hands press to your hips, dragging you closer to him. Eddie kisses you deeply, before kissing the corners of your mouth, then down your jaw and neck. You can’t help the soft moan that leaves you.

“Eddie-“ you try but your voice catches in your throat when you feel the bulge of his pants as he tries to press you to him. Heat floods your face, suddenly embarrassed. You press your hands to his shoulders, softly pushing at him, which he relents immediately.

“Sorry, just… got carried away.” Eddie mumbles, a bit breathless from the kisses he was giving. “I was just watching you in there and I kept wanting to- ugh.” Eddie runs one hand through his long hair, pushing the strands back. “I know we’ve agreed that we would wait until you’re ready… I didn’t mean to push… just-“

You cut him off, pressing your lips to his again, earning a soft groan from him that ignites something in you. He gently places his hands back on your waist, respecting the boundaries you had originally placed. You pull away just a bit, both of you with your cheeks flushed.

“Eddie,” you call out to him, his chocolate brown eyes stare deep into you. “I-“ you hesitate, feeling your legs twitch as his thumb rubs circles into your hip, “I’d like to…” you glance away from him, embarrassed to say more, but Eddie understands your words.

He leans forward, placing soft kisses on your temple and cheek before you feel his hot breath on your ear. “How about we head out for a bit?”

You both slowly make your way upstairs to your room, but he takes every opportunity to give you little kisses that stops you in your tracks and makes you giggle. When you both make it into your room, you watch him grab his jacket and pull you close for one last gentle kiss.

“Stay here.” He mumbles to you, a simple order that you can’t stop yourself from obeying. You realize you’d probably do anything he asked of you, as long as he pairs it with a soft kiss and that goofy youthful grin you love so much.

“Ok” is all you get out before you watch him exit your room once again, jacket barely on his shoulders as he leaves. You sit on your bed, feeling a little antsy as you wait, your nerves not letting you relax. Then you hear his van start up as he leaves the driveway.

You know he’ll come back. He has to. Eddie wouldn’t ditch you, he’s literally staying here with you. He wouldn’t do that… right?

You keep glancing at the clock, time ticking by as you wait for him to return. 10 minutes turns to 20, 20 to 40.

As the old clock on your nightstand is about to hit midnight something hits your window. You nearly jump out of your own skin as your head snaps towards it. Then another.

And another.

Pebbles.

Wait- pebbles?

Getting up from your bed, you go to your window, looking out to see the metal head of your dreams standing down below, the moon light reflects on his eyes as he looks up to see you there. You notice the few tiny rocks still cupped in his hand.

Was he throwing rocks at your window?

You open the glass that separates you from the cold air, instantly getting a chill as you lift it and stick your head out.

“Eddie? Why are you throwing rocks at my window?”

“I wanted to do that right.”

“What-?”

“Lady (y/n) of the house of Emerson, will you do me the honor of giving me your company on this cold night?” Eddie smiles at you, all teeth as if he’s proud of himself.

You can’t help but feel the butterflies flutter through your stomach as you remember the first time he did this, taking you to their concert when you were 16. The context was different then, a boy taking his best friend’s little sister to see their band. But this time you are his damsel, without the distress and needing saving. But his, nonetheless.

“I would be honored to accompany you, Lord Edward of house Munson.” You can’t help but giggle, hoping the blush on your cheeks isn’t noticeable to him. But he notices.

You grab your jacket, slipping out of your window just like you did back then, climbing down the cold sturdy vines that line the outside wall of your house.

He catches you just like he did all those years ago, easing you down to the ground. But this time he gives you a small kiss, cupping your face before taking your hand in his and leading you past the yard of your house. To your surprise you realize he parked down the street, as if trying to not gain suspicion from your family.

He leads you to the passenger side, and you can’t help but giggle as he opens the door for you, bowing down with a dramatic “My lady.”

“Thank you,” you hop into the car, buckling up as he shuts the door for you. He scurries his way around the front of the van and into the driver’s seat of the car.

Although he doesn’t play music, the drive is far from quiet. You two giggle and chat back and forth, and you can’t help but feel comfortable. Eddie has always been someone who has tried to make you feel safe around him, and tonight is no exception.

After about a 20 minute drive, Eddie parks the van. Glancing around you don’t recognize the scenery around you.

“Where are we?” You ask him, looking out the window to see the rows of trees that line your sight.

“Lover’s lake. I… I’ve never actually taken anyone here before, believe it or not. But I know it was a big spot when we were in high school.” You can’t help but feel the warm traces of heat rush up to your cheeks, grazing your skin with the ignites of something unknown.

Lover’s Lake?

“You’ve… never brought anyone here?” You ask, a little shocked at the admission. You know Eddie wasn’t… how do you say… everyone’s cup of tea…? But surely he had his share of girlfriends or at least flings in high school.

“No, I mean… I had… experiences in high school, but never brought anyone here. Mostly it was the bathroom stalls at the Hideout after shows.” Eddie mumbles the last part, blabbering to himself. You know by now he never means to, he just can’t help it when he gets nervous.

“I’ve… never had any experiences.” You respond, giving him a shy smile. He matches your smile before gesturing towards the back of the van.

You hesitate before squeezing through the two seats, shoving yourself into the bed of the van. After an abrupt landing, you glance at the arrangement around you. Pillows, blankets, it’s comfy, warm, a stark contrast to the sharp crisp air outside. When you turn back, Eddie is already next to you, fluffy one of the pillows.

“So… um…” you hesitate, nervous for the eventual activities that will happen. “How do we start…”

“Well, we can just kiss for a bit first, and slowly lead into it.” Eddie scoots a little closer to you, his body heat radiating off of him, covering you in a warmth of anticipation.

He leans closer to you, placing his fingers under your chin, tilting you to face him. Eddie’s lips press to yours in a soft kiss that sends butterflies through you. You lean into it, lifting your hand to his cheek. He pulls away just a bit, leaving you a bit breathless.

“You’re really pretty, I hope you know that.” His voice is deeper than usual, huskier almost. It sends a heat to your core that you’ve never felt before.

Leaning forward again, he kisses you once more, shifting his body so he’s more turned towards you. After a few kisses, it becomes more intense. The once soft kisses turn heated and passionate, your hands cling to his clothes, grabbing at his shirt and jacket.

Your hands glide under the leather fabric, pushing it off his shoulders for him. He doesn’t pull away from you, but he shifts his arms back to allow the coat to fall into the floorboards of the van’s backseat. When the restraints of the added weight are gone, Eddie leans more forward, placing his whole palm on the side of your neck, his fingers long enough to reach into your hairline on your nape, his thumb pushing your jaw upwards.

His kisses feel hot and heavy, almost desperate. He pulls away only to leave a kiss on the corner of your lips before trailing down your jaw and neck, the opposite side of his hand.

You take in a deep breath, suddenly aware of how little oxygen you were getting. Your eyes flutter open, glancing at the metal head as he pulls the coat off your shoulders. Your breath hitches when you feel him suck on your neck, a soft moan leaving your lips as your hands grip at his shirt.

“Ed- Eddie-!” You’re trapped, your throat in between his hand and head. You don’t mind it, the feeling of his tongue swiping across your warm skin; the way his free hand grips at your thigh doesn’t go unnoticed either.

After a moment, Eddie pulls back, looking at the masterpiece he has left on your neck, the hickeys slowly turning more red. He leaves a soft kiss on one of the more purple ones, a ping of guilt tugging at him as he does so.

He knows it doesn’t hurt, if anything, he hopes you enjoyed it being left there as much as he did.

Eddie pulls back from you, taking the hem of his shirt in his hands before slipping the cotton fabric over his head. You’ve seen him shirtless a few times by now, mostly before bed or when he gets out of the shower in the mornings after he’s stayed over. But this is different. It feels more intimate.

“Oh…” the sound leaves you before you can realize. You see the little grin that tugs at his lips.

“Oh?” Eddie sits back into some of the pillows, leaning his head against the wall of the van. “Like what you see, Sweetheart?”

You don’t know what came over you. A simple surge of confidence, maybe?

You crawl over to him, climbing into his lap. You watch those warm brown eyes widen a bit, taken aback by your sudden forwardness. But he’s eating it up nonetheless. He’s got you right where he wants you and he intends to make this night perfect for you.

“I love what I see,” you bat your eyelashes at him as your hands move up to the top button of your flannel, unbuttoning it slowly as you make eye contact with Eddie.

“Do you like what you see?” You ask as you do a few more buttons, revealing a light pink lacy bra. Eddie’s eyes dart to it, desperate to see what’s underneath but he’s going to wait until you’re ready.

“Love,” he says, the word slow, like it has more meaning than it should. “But I think you’d look good in nothing at all.”

Together, you unbutton your shirt until it’s open, only your bra on display as Eddie pushes it off your shoulders and it falls behind you.

Eddie gently lies you down on the bed of the van and slowly unhooks your bra as he does so, tossing it to the side as a dramatic leaves his mouth.

“I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he says as he goes to unbutton your jeans, pulling them down slowly but with force. Once they’re off, he spreads your legs wide, noticing that there’s a wet patch on your underwear and feels himself getting even more hard as he sees how wet he’s gotten you.

He lowers his head down to your cunt and your eyebrows furrow as you try to figure out what he’s doing. He grabs onto the waistband of your panties with his teeth and pulls down slowly, and once they’re off, he pockets them and he spreads your legs even wider, seeing that you’re so wet that your slick has run down your legs.

“W-what are you doing?” You ask, leaning up to see exactly where he’s going.

“Do you trust me?” He asks, his brown eyes going all soft.

“Of course I do,” you nod and he grins wide.

“Then lie back and enjoy the ride, princess,” he winks then moves his face towards one of your thighs, placing his tongue on it and swiping up, wanting to get every last bit of your slick.

He then moves on to the other one, quicker this time as he’s eager to get on with the main event. He places your legs on his shoulders then dives in shamelessly, the only thing on his mind being your pussy and how delicious he knows it is.

His tongue flattens against your slit and he moves it up and down as your hands move to his hair, a sound you’ve never made before escaping your mouth.

It’s a mixture between a moan and a whine and Eddie continues as he likes what he’s hearing. He’s not being precise, the whole thing sloppy as he wants to taste every inch of your cunt, wanting every part of it underneath his tongue.

He doesn’t remember the last time he’s done this as he’s forgotten just how much he enjoys doing it. With you, it’s different. He’s never done anything like this with a virgin, and goddamn is he going to make it memorable for the both of you.

“E-Eddie, oh my god,” you moan loudly, giving Eddie’s hair a yank as you do. This is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before and now you’re addicted, wondering just how long you can last.

He pushes his tongue inside you and you tense, the sensation is so foreign, but you like it, love it even as he pushes his tongue inside and out of you swirling it around.

His tongue hits just the right spot and you’re moaning again, this time, your back arching as you do, grabbing onto his hair for dear life.

Your thighs press against the sides of his head as you reach your orgasm, the prettiest moans Eddie’s ever heard falling from your lips. Just when you think it’s over, Eddie pushes your legs back open, going in for seconds, wanting another taste of you as his tongue moves faster, trying to get you to that high again.

He removes his tongue and their replaced with his fingers, pumping them a little slower as his mouth goes for your clit, his tongue doing most of the work as he licks and sucks, taking his time with it.

“Eddie, fuck,” you whine and he goes in with his teeth, biting down with just enough pressure to get you to make that pretty sound again. “Yeah, just like that,” you tell him and he does it again, harder this time as his fingers move just a little faster, just enough to overstimulate you.

Another orgasm courses through you, but Eddie’s not quite finished. He just needs one more taste and he’ll be good. He swirls his tongue around your clit one more them then removes his fingers, leaning up to make eye contact with you as he puts his fingers into his mouth, giving them a suck before removing them with a loud pop.

Once you’ve come down, Eddie leans over you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips then leans back as you whine for more.

“Sorry, did you need something?” He asks, his tone nothing but teasing. “I just gave you your first and second orgasm and now you’re whining for kisses? I really have created a monster.”

“Eddie, please,” you beg with a roll of your eyes.

“Let’s not get greedy now, baby. Or else I might have to punish you.”

“Punish me, how?” You ask, genuinely curious, wanting to know what he’s referring to, wondering if he’ll give an example.

“I’ll show you next time,” he says as he goes to unbutton his own pants and as soon as they’re off, you see the outline of his cock through his underwear. He takes them off slowly and you’re unsure what to make of it. Sure, you had maybe seen one in a movie or two, but never in real life and never this close.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet, removing a condom from it and he tosses his wallet behind him, the whole thing completely abandoned for the beautiful woman in front of him.

He removes his underwear and removes the condom from the packet before rolling it on. He then takes no time to spread your legs again, slowly inserting himself, little by little so you can get used to the feeling. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you, especially not for your first time.

He watches you wince as he moves inside, understanding that this is something that you’ve never done and he’ll go as slow as he needs to. As long as you’re comfortable, he’s happy.

“Is this okay?” He asks, looking down at you, then where you’re connected, seeing that he’s only put so little of himself inside.

“It’s good,” you nod. “It’s good. You can do a little more.”

He does as you say then begins to pump, the slowest and most gentle he’s ever done, watching your face the whole time to make sure that you’re okay. You’re moaning already so he takes that as a good sign.

He picks up the pace ever so slightly and you’re eating it up, moaning and whining as you grab onto his back, burying your face into his neck because you can’t handle him looking at you so intently anymore.

“You’re doing so good, angel,” he says his thrusts pick up just a little more. “Make some more of those pretty sounds for me, hm?” He asks as his arms moved underneath you, pulling your chest to his. He just wants to hold you while you share this intimate moment.

He’s enjoying it, but a part of him wants to fuck you until you can’t walk the next morning. He knows you can take it all and he wants to try and see how much will fit as he fucks you so hard that the van will shake.

But he can’t. He won’t, because this is your first time and he wants to make it special for you. He didn’t get that for his so it’s even more important that makes this something you remember fondly for the rest of your life.

He picks up the pace just a little more and he can tell you’re almost there, just one more push and-

“I love you,” is what comes out of your mouth and everything freezes. You both pause, unsure what the next move is and now you’re panicking that you’ve done something wrong as he stares down at you, his mouth wide open in shock.

Without a word, he’s pounding into you with so much force that you feel your brain turn to mush. You’re goo in his arms and all you can do is clench around him, wondering where this Eddie has been the entire night.

You’d never tell him, but this was what you had been wanting from the very beginning. It was sweet that he was trying to be accommodating, but you know Eddie well enough that he’s never been the kind of guy to “make love”. The kind that’s sweet and gentle, filled with murmurs of sweet nothings and soft touches.

“Fuck, yes, just like that,” you say again and Eddie’s going even harder now, making your back arch.

Without a warning, Eddie’s hand wraps around your neck squeezing tightly and you can slowly feel yourself being unable to breathe. He’s unsure at first if you like it, but feeling your cunt clench around his cock, he’s sure.

He holds you there, wishing so badly he had a camera to capture this moment, something just for him to look at when he needed a little encouragement.

Just when he thinks you’re going to pass out, he lets up, his hand favoring your thigh as he knows he can squeeze it as much as he wants and he not so secretly, desperately wants to leaves marks all over your body. And he intends to.

His fingers dig into your thigh as he sees you reaching another high, spreading your legs even wider so he can get all of himself in for one last thrust. He watches you as the last few inches are in, your bodies now fully connected, and now he just wants to see how long you can hold out as you’re riding your orgasm.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” you moan as your nails scratch down his back, already feeling fucked out, but you can’t give up now, not when it’s gotten so good.

You’re almost drunk when Eddie pulls out and lets you come down from your orgasm as his lips press to your collarbone, nothing but gentle kisses all along it, light nibbles before he’s leaving straight up hickeys wherever he can, wanting to mark up your body so you know exactly who it belongs to. Even though he’s pretty sure you already know.

Once he’s done, he lies back on the floor of the van, pulling you with him as he covers the two of you up with a random blanket he had lying back there.

his hands run through your hair as he hums a song you’re not familiar with, the only thing on your mind now is that you told him that you loved him, during sex. You feel so embarrassed that you don’t think you can look him in the eye again. Especially not after he didn’t say it back.

“You-“ you try to say, but cut yourself off. “You never responded.”

“To what?” He asks, his voice soft as he tries his best to look down at you, his hand still combing through your hair.

“To me telling you that you love me.” You sit up, now looking at him, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Oh god, you don’t love me do you? Just say it, I can handle it.” But as you’re speaking, you cover your face with your hands, not wanting to see how he’s looking at you.

“Hey,” he says softly, as if he’s speaking to a spooked animal. “Hey,” this time a little more rough as he pulls your hand away from your face. “I love you,” he says, looking you dead in the eyes as he presses a kiss to your wrist. “I love you,” he repeats, going for your other wrist.

He then takes your face in his hands and presses his lips to yours in a passionate kiss, pouring every single bit of love for you he has into it.

“I love you,” he murmurs against your lips before pulling you to his chest, holding you there so you can hear his heart, the thing that only beats for you.

The sun is already up when you get back to your house, both you and Eddie gliggle amongst yourselves as you enter the front door. Eddie presses a kiss to your kiss bitten lips, getting a little handsy as they slide up your shirt. Just as he goes to unhook your bra once again, a lamp flicks on and the two of you jump away from each other, Eddie accidentally biting your bottom lip in the process. Eddie's cheeks go pink and you press your fingers to your bottom lip as you turn to see your mother sitting in her favorite chair, a knowing smirk playing on her lips.

She's dressed in her robe, her legs crossed with a book in her lap. It's not uncommon for her to be up early in the morning, but something is off about this time. It's almost as if she was waiting up for you. And the way she crosses her arms over her chest, it's obvious that she was. You don't know why you're embarrassed now at the state of both of you and Eddie. Your clothes are all rumpled and Eddie's hair is an absolute mess, lipstick smeared across his neck, accompanied by a very prominent hickey.

"What were you two doing out all night?" She asks and her tone is nothing but teasing. The three of you know exactly where you were and what you were up to and it almost seems like she's trying to embarrass you in front of Eddie.

"We were out." You're being vague because this isn't exactly something you want to talk to your mother about, especially not in front of your boyfriend who already looks embarrassed even though he'd never admit that he was. You just wish she'd drop it and let you go upstairs.

"You don't have to hide what the two of you were up to. You're adults now and you shouldn't feel like you need to sneak around me. I would have just been nice to know where you were." You're fully expecting a lecture about letting her know when you leave the house, but she suprises you when she says, "Now go get into your pajamas before the others come down," she nods towards the direction of the stairs. “We're doing presents soon and our special guest will be here any minute."

You and Eddie make a beeline for the stairs and head to your shared room. Everything is silent between you as Eddie closes the door, the two of you finally alone again. You're both getting into your matching pajamas that your mother had bought for everyone and you can't help but smile at him as he's completely oblivious to you staring at him.

You never thought you'd be here with him like this. You fully expected to spend the rest of your life dreading any and all holidays you had to spend with the Munsons' because then you'd have to see Eddie's husband or wife and be nothing but jealous the whole time. You honestly never thought that your feelings for him would be reciprocated. But here you are now, more in love than ever and the two of you were very much looking forward to the future.

You head twards the door but Eddie stops you, resting his hand on your shoulder as he gently turns you around to face him. You look up into those honey brown eyes and they're nothing but soft as he hands you a black velvet box with his free hand.

"Merry Christmas, sweetheart," he says as he squeezes your shoulder and you sit on the bed to open the box.

He's smiling now, so excited for you to see what's inside. He's honestly glad you're not looking at him because he’s grinning like an idiot as he watches you open the box, a gasp escaping your mouth as you do so. You remove the necklace from the box, your initals sitting pretty together on the chain as you hold it up to the light.

"Eddie," you say. "It's beautiful. I love it. Help me put it on?" You hand it to him and move your hair out of the way. Eddie lowers the chain onto your neck and attatches the end to the clasp before pressing a kiss to your neck. You let your hair down then turn to Eddie to show him what it looks like on.

"What do you think?" You ask and just by looking at him, that soft, loving look in his eyes, you already know what he's going to know what he's going to say.

"You look beautiful, baby," he gestures for you to come closer. You lean in and your lips find each other, a brief kiss before you pull away, reaching into your bag for your gift for Eddie. The two of you seem to have thought alike because you're handing him a velvet ring box.

Your heart beats rapidly in your chest as he opens up the box, that stupid smirk on his lips as he takes the ring out of the box. It looks like a wedding band and it has the date of his concert where you had ran into him again engraved on the inside. His silence is making you nervous and now you're beginning to second guess yourself.

Eddie's not silent because he doesn't like your gift, he's silent because this is easily the best gift he's ever recieved. All of his past relationships have been nothing but shit and he thinks you're it for him. It warms his heart knowing that you feel the same.

"Is this a promise ring?" He asks as he puts the ring on the correct finger. He already knows the answer, but he wants to hear you say it. You could propose to him right now and he'd say yes. That's how far gone he is for you. He loves you with everything that he is and wants to do exactly that until he takes his last breath.

"Yes," you nod. "I love you, Eddie, and I know we're not ready to take that step yet, so this is just a placeholder. So all of those women you meet on tour know that you're mine."

"You're always jealous, aren't you?" He laughs. "I'm yours and will continue to be yours as long as you'll have me."

With that, Eddie kisses you one more time then leads you down the stairs where everyone else is already gathered with the added company of Wayne who just so happened to be the special guest your mother had invited. His eyes lock on yours and he stands from the couch where he was sitting next with Gareth and Cindy. He pulls you into a tight hug, giving your back a few pats before pulling away to ruffle Eddie's hair.

Wayne has been not so secretly rooting for the two ever since the two of you crossed paths again. You are nothing but a great addition to their family and Wayne is always quick to tell you so, always thanking you for taking care of his boy. Seeing the way his nephew's face lights up when he talks to or about you, he can't help but feel his heart swell as that's what he's always wanted for him.

Ever since Gareth and Eddie became friends, Eddie was always welcome into the Emerson household and that invitaion was extended to Wayne as well. You fondly remember having dinner with the two of them as guests, everyone joking and laughing at the dining room table. You'd look at the two of them as they sat side by side, deciding that it was no wonder how Eddie was such a sweet guy when you looked at who raised him.

"Alright," your mother claps her hands together to get everyone's attention. "Now that we're all here, why don't we-" her words were cut off by Cindy letting out a groan and as soon as she stood up from the couch, all you see was her leaving a trail of water behind her as Gareth rushes her to the door.

You all hurry out the door to your separate cars to head to the hospital where your niece is about to be born. Thinking about your brother being a dad now fills you with joy, epsspecially with how much he's grown up over the years. There's still a bit of the Gareth you grew up with in there, but for the most part, he behaves differently than he previously had.

You've all grown up, you, Eddie, and Gareth, and you did it together. Well, more like Eddie and Gareth grew up together while you tried to insert yourself into their little club because of your giant crush on Eddie. But now you're apart of it, you, Eddie, Gareth, Cindy, and now the little one who was about to be born.

Thinking about your niece got you thinking about what it would be like to have a baby with Eddie. Maybe one day that dream will be a reality, but until then, you’re going to take this relationship one step at a time. You want to enjoy every second with him.

Tag list!

@cagethemunson

@spikeybatt

@cherrycolas-things

@r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e

@ali-r3n

@thepurplelovewitch

[rosie-read-that]

a nonsense christmas / tyler owens x reader

summary: an unexpected snowstorm traps tyler owens with his workplace nemesis over the holidays. bonus points: there was only one bed.

content warnings: f!reader, allusions to smut

word count: 9k

author’s note: happy holidays! 🎄🎊🤶🏻🕎 i hope they were merry and bright and as stress-free as possible. thank you so much for supporting my three little fics. this is unedited, but i wanted to post it before i went out of town as a gift made specially for the glen girlies - i wrote it to bring you some december cheer. see you next year!

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Over the span of the last twelve hours you’d lost count of the number of times you’d muttered that sentence underneath your breath.

First, it was the office building in New York, where Tyler had the appointment right after yours at a ritzy funding agency. Then it was the airport, where you’d both flown standby and had a Wild West confrontation over the last seat on the plane, only for another passenger to volunteer their place in exchange for a travel voucher. (“It’s not like I’m in a rush to see my family, anyway.”) The woman manning the desk had given you both a look that said, “See, this is how an adult behaves,” which you thought was rich when the guy was clearly trying to cheat his way out of a Christmas dinner. Then, Tyler got assigned the seat behind you on the plane, and in keeping with his infuriating personality, spent the entire flight kicking your seat - or, I’m sorry, just trying to stretch his legs.

After landing, you’d raced to the same rental car company. The woman at this desk kept pointing out that the weather seemed dire and that a snowstorm might hit at any moment, to which you assured her that you weren't headed far—a lie—and glared at Tyler’s back before shuffling into the parking lot with your borrowed keys, hoping his heater would break or that an ex-girlfriend had broken into his house during his absence and left coal in his stocking.

It turned out that the woman at Enterprise was right. The weather was dire; your visibility was shot to hell after the first forty miles, leaving you to squint through the flurry-turned-blizzard, your knuckles white on the steering wheel as you inched forward in your seat, as though you could magically see through the storm if only you pressed your nose just so to the windshield.

After a while you gave up and started to admit that unless you wanted to turn into a human Popsicle, you might need a Plan B. You let out a weary sigh, listening to the weather report on the radio—“If you're safe and cozy at home, it's gonna be a white Christmas, folks, but if you're out on the road, I suggest taking cover and waiting it out for Santa Claus to slide down the chimney.”

You scanned the passing road signs for fast food restaurants, gas stations, and rest stops, even took a few exits just to be hit with NO VACANCY in bright neon reds, making mental calculations for the rest of your trip.

Home was still a long way off: three hours, after dark. Normally you’d power through with an extra-large coffee, but it was snowing, and your window to remain safely on the road was closing with every passing minute.

Dammit.

After the fourth failed attempt at finding lodgings, you sat in the driver’s seat with the heater on and called your sister.

She answered after a few rings. In the background you heard your nephew and nieces screaming their heads off in that kid way. God, you loved those little rugrats but they were undoubtedly a nightmare—you imagined Margo plugging up one of her ears and waving at them to be quiet. Of course, to no avail.

“Where are you?” she demanded, the accusation sharp in her voice. You knew to expect it, so instead of answering, “Well, hello to you too, I can’t control the weather, in case you haven’t noticed,” you went with a plain response, facts only.

“Somewhere in the middle of Benburg.”

“Where?”

“Exactly.”

You heard her sigh. “The snow’s getting pretty bad.”

“No shit.”

“Hey, don't ‘no shit’ me! I told you traveling right before Christmas Eve was going to be a nightmare.”

“And I told you I had no choice.”

She paused. There was whispering on the other end, an almost-silence that put your body on high alert until, finally, she said, “Mom wants to talk to you.”

“Margo, no!”

Your protests fell on deaf ears. The phone was jostled as your mother took it and began to speak.

“Honey, are you almost here?”

Covering your face with your hands, you kept your voice light, knowing she’d be able to detect even the smallest hint of frustration, and then you’d have to put up with another round of “why on earth did you take a meeting in New York right before the holidays?”

“No, mom, I’ve still got a-ways to go.”

You pictured her narrowing her eyes, maybe placing a hand on her cocked hip.

“How long a-ways?”

“Less than two hours,” you lied.

It was absolutely more than two hours.

A pause. “Well, I guess that's okay.”

“I’m glad you think so.” Through gritted teeth and the voice of a demented schoolteacher, you added, “Mom, can you put Margo back on the phone now, please?”

“She wants to talk to you,” you heard her saying from a distance.

After some more jostling, you felt the caller change as you merged back onto the highway and left the motel behind.

“Marg, can you tell her to cut me some slack, please? I’m doing my best.”

“Ha!”

You glared at the console, hoping she could feel it over the phone.

“Gee, thanks! So much for the Christmas spirit!”

“Listen, when you have three kids, two dogs, a husband, all of your in-laws, your parents, and your stepmom breathing down your neck, I’ll have a little more sympathy.”

“Fine… But I promise I’m not leaving you in the lurch on purpose. My flight from New York got delayed, I had some asshole kicking me in the kidneys the whole time, and I can barely see a yard in front of me because of this storm—it’s not exactly a walk in the park for me either.”

No cigar; it was you who felt her glare over the phone this time. Clearly, her issues outweighed all of yours on this occasion, and knowing her sister-in-law, you were inclined to agree.

You added: “I’ll make it up to you.”

“You’d better.”

The wipers on your rented car worked overtime to clear your windshield. You were about to end the call to focus on driving when, up ahead, you saw the red and blue lights of a highway patrol vehicle stopping traffic.

“Oh shit,” you muttered under your breath.

“What?”

“The road is closed.”

“The whole road?”

“Yeah, Marg, the whole road.” She would've argued with you over your tone, except you cut her off with “Hold on—I’m being flagged down.”

A middle-aged man with a mustache came over to your car. He was wearing a fuzzy hat and holding a flashlight now that the purpling sky was fading to black. Without being asked, you lowered your window and shivered at the stream of icy wind that cut through the artificial heat.

“Evening, officer.”

“Good evening. Where’re you headed?”

“Sayre or roundabouts.”

“Rough night to be doing so. This road is no good, you're gonna have to turn around, find a place to wait it out for the night.”

Your heart sank. You knew Margo was listening to everything. By the time you made it home, your ledger would have a massive list in the red which she’d make you pay off somehow—by doing the dishes, playing horse with the kids, or worse, entertaining Kayleen, who would say as she always did that you really ought think about having children soon unless you wanted to get used to “a self-absorbed lifestyle.”

God forbid.

“Do you know anywhere that might have a last-minute vacancy?” you asked the officer, whose shiny name tag read HARRIS.

He scratched behind his ear, twisting his mouth in thought.

“Try the Sunnyside Inn. Back this way to Fairmont, right after the exit, left on Vail.”

“Thank you.”

“Merry Christmas.”

“Right. Merry Christmas.”

You put your window back up.

“Did you catch that?”

“Sounds like you're grounded,” said Margo. Her eyebrow must be arched because the judgment could be heard loud and clear—if you hadn’t gone to New York…

Well, there was nothing you could do about it now.

“It’s meant to clear up by morning. I’ll still be there long before Christmas.”

“You’d better be.” She sighed.

Your niece Haley was screaming out the words to “The Twelve Days of Christmas” like a possessed banshee and giggling at what she knew must be an ear-splitting performance. You didn't know whether to be more horrified or amused; you remembered doing something similar when you were a child, back when you didn't have to worry about spreadsheets and grants and the trials and tribulations of flying Economy during the worst time of the year.

Margo must be thinking the same. Her tone sounded a little more sympathetic when she said, “Drive safe, and let me know when you find somewhere to spend the night.”

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you, too. Don’t get murdered.”

“I’ll try.”

“Don’t try—do. Someone’s got to help me defuse the tension during Christmas dinner.”

“Me? Defuse tension?”

“Good point.”

After hanging up, you followed Officer Harris’s directions to the Sunnyside Inn. Wherever it was in relation to the highway, there weren’t any signs you could see from the road and it reminded you of a famous, albeit fictional, location where people did go to end up murdered.

You only hoped whoever was on duty at the check-in desk had zero resemblance to Norman Bates or you’d have no choice but to sleep in your car.

Ten minutes later, you arrived at a quaint little building like something out of a Hallmark movie with six parking spaces and no neon out front. The facade was fake stone, the ornamental bushes lining the circular drive covered in a postcard layer of fresh snow. The wooden sign read VACANCY and had an empty slot where the NO might go, which gave you the tiniest sliver of hope, tempered by the thought that a place like this might not pay the utmost attention to a detail like that, especially in the middle of a storm. All in all, it was the sort of place you stayed at when you had no choice, being off the beaten track, but it looked as well maintained as it could be given its age, which you dated back to the 70s because of its slanted roof.

You parked and got your suitcase out of the trunk, the wheels clattering and then coming to an abrupt stop when you saw a figure across the way doing the same with his black carry-on.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you called out.

Tyler Owens grinned. Even from here you could see the dimple on his cheek.

“Road closed?” he asked, still walking towards the entrance. You did the same, glaring as you tried to keep pace with him—no, tried to beat him to the front door.

“You know it is,” you answered, eyes narrowed, dashing the rest of the way just for his hand to reach the metal pull bar first. Damn his longer limbs.

With a smile, he opened the door and waved you through like a Manhattan doorman.

“Ladies first.”

“Wow, I didn't think you were remotely a gentleman.”

“What gave you that impression?”

You brushed past him into the heated lobby, pausing long enough for him to close the door so you could send him a pointed look.

“Oh, I don’t know… maybe your knee on my back?” you enunciated.

“I told you—that was an honest mistake.”

“Right.”

The Sunnyside had a single check-in desk that looked more like the host’s stand at your favorite restaurant than the counter at the cheapest Marriott, but it was decked in cute bells and garlands and baubles that glittered in the light. Behind it stood a woman around your age with straight, shoulder-length hair partially covered by a Santa hat.

As soon as she saw you walking in, she pushed the red strands out of her face and cleared her throat visibly before launching into a practiced spiel.

“Welcome to the Sunnyside Inn, where every day is sunny!”

She was smiling from ear to ear. The effect was a little like that of the creepy twins in The Shining and bah, humbug, were you not in the mood.

“Can I have a room for the night, please?”

You were made to feel guilty by the sudden fall of her face. But clearly Carol—you had to do a double take. Was her name really Carol? At-Christmastime Carol?—had gone to one hell of a customer service training program. Instead of letting your frown turn her smile upside down, she tacked it on with impressively greater fervor. The bell at the end of her hat rattled as she cleared her throat again.

“You’re in luck! We have one vacant room left in the entire hotel—continental breakfast included!”

“I’m sorry,” Tyler butted in, “did you say only one room?”

“Yes, er…” She looked between you, biting her glossed lip. “Is that a problem?”

“We’re not together,” you said, refusing to look in Tyler’s direction. 

Carol blushed. She was so pale that you thought it might be her actual blood you were seeing rising to her face and turning a shade of Veruca Salt. Or was it Violet Beauregarde?

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “I thought—well… you arrived together.”

“We arrived separately.”

“That’s not what it looked like.”

She blinked owlishly. Your own face was heating up as you felt Tyler putting his hand on his hip and sending you a shit-eating grin. You wouldn’t hear the end of this. You could practically hear him bringing it up at a later date, saying, “You’d be so lucky.”

You felt your jaw lock and your dentist cry. Lips together, teeth apart! She’d obviously never met anyone like Tyler Owens before.

“I can assure you, that's what it is,” you said in a steel-laced voice.

Carol might be an A+ at the customer service thing, but you were an A+ at staring people down until they begged for mercy. The only person you knew who was better at it was Margo, and the only person immune to it—though it drove you crazy to no end—was standing next to you, all six feet of him, in a jacket with snow at the shoulders that had quickly melted and rolled off the fabric. Shoulders… his annoyingly broad shoulders, which you’d had occasion to see with more frequency than you would’ve liked, dressed in what Samantha, one of your colleagues, described as his “slutty little white tees.”

It wasn’t enough for him to be a perpetual thorn in your side, he had to be attractive too, thereby proving that there was no God or that, Whoever they were, they must have an evil sense of humor.

“I’m so sorry.” Carol hung her head. Her hat drooped, the glitter-paper trimming on her suit drooped—there was a high chance that she was actually an elf and you’d just worked your way onto Santa’s Naughty list. Come midnight, you’d be visited by the ghosts of all your ex-lovers and Sarah DeAngelo, your high school nemesis.

Meanwhile, Tyler swooped in like the big hero.

“No worries, I’ll just stay at the next place,” he said. “What is the next place?”

“That would be the Cozy Roadside! But they're all booked up, I’m afraid… It's the storm, you see. Everyone’s trying to hunker down for the night.”

“Right…”

Well, he was taking it better than you’d have done—though it was clear he wasn’t jumping for joy at the thought of turning around and trying his luck in the growing whiteout.

And that was if there weren't more road closures along the way.

“Are you sure you're not together? I’m just saying… it is the holidays.” Carol’s little damn bell jingled again. Could you be charged with assault if you snatched it off her head? you wondered.

You pinned her with a stare and she had the temerity to flinch like a little cartoon dormouse.

“Meaning…?”

“Meaning, it's a time to let bygones be bygones! You make such a lovely couple…” Her laugh was high-pitched, nervous.

You might have ruffled like an angry bird of prey. “We are not—”

“Absolutely not,” said Tyler.

“‘Absolutely’?”

It was the closest you’d ever come to seeing Tyler crack under the force of your EF5 stare. He looked sheepish, his hands in his pockets, giving a little hunkered down shrug that might have been read as boyish and kind of adorable to someone else.

“Listen”—turning to Carol before you could rip him to shreds—“do you know of anywhere I could stay until the roads open up again?”

“I’m sorry, no.”

“What about the lobby?”

“I would if it were up to me, but it's against hotel policy. I could get a write-up.”

This hotel has a policy? You stopped yourself from blurting out the words. There was still a chance this Strawberry Shortcake of a person was one of Santa’s little helpers and, if you kept up being a meanie, you’d end up going to the Bad Place—the Bad Place being the seat next to Margo’s sister-in-law at dinner.

You sighed. “Does my room have a couch?”

“It has a chair,” Carol offered.

You exhaled through your nostrils like an angry bull—would the creature metaphors ever cease? Turning to Tyler, you held up a finger and said, “You’re gonna owe me big time,” and fished your wallet out of your bag.

You slammed your card onto the stand and waited for Carol to check you in. She took out a book from a little cubby and took down your name and ID number, then fiddled with one of those old-school credit card imprinters, the ones you had to use actual elbow grease to use.

“I can have extra linens sent up! And I’ll give you our Friends and Family rate—in honor of the season!”

You have got to be kidding me…

Tyler put his hand on your elbow, stopping your words.

“Thank you, Carol, you've been a real gem.”

Carol flushed again, preening under Tyler’s cowboy charm. I’m gonna be sick, you thought, grabbing your suitcase by the handle and wheeling towards the stairs before you could say anything else.

Your case banged against each carpet-covered step. Tyler was behind you, carrying his without sounds of trouble. You supposed that was a benefit to having arms the size of tree trunks, but you’d rather drop dead on this commercial grade floor than ask him for help.

To drown out the sound of the obvious weakness in your upper half, you adopted a high-pitched baby voice that was nothing like Tyler’s and said, “‘You’ve been a gem, Carol,’” just to mock him.

From Tyler came a huffed-out laugh. “Why, ’re you jealous?”

“As if. I hope your chair has bedbugs,” you called over your shoulder, arriving at the landing and looking for room 227. You unlocked the door without waiting, tossing your bag and coat onto the bed to stake your claim.

In the open doorway, Tyler paused to stare at the promised bit of furniture.

“Oh,” came out of his throat. “When she said chair, I thought she meant…”

You followed his gaze. Like Tyler, you’d pictured a dusty old recliner when Carol guilted you into sharing a room with him. The relic actually taking up space across from the queen-sized bed was a chair that might have come out of your high school principal’s office. The seat was covered in a similar material to the carpet, deep purple, not falling apart at the seams, but still just a chair.

Not in your wildest dreams would you think of making an enemy sleep on a thing like that. And here you were, poking fun at sweet, freckle-faced Carol… sweet, sweet Carol who had done you a bigger solid than you could’ve ever imagined.

Tomorrow at check-out, you were going to leave her a $50 tip. You might name your firstborn after her.

You looked at Tyler. He looked at you. The poor man was aghast, and the more he glanced despondently at his abode for the next eight hours, the funnier it got until you were cackling, actually cackling like a Disney witch.

You unzipped your suitcase and took out your toiletries bag, still laughing as you stepped into the room’s bathroom and sent him a little wave.

“Sweet dreams, Owens!”

Hell, it was Christmas—you’d be leaving Carol an even $100.

-

You made a point of taking your time in the shower, luxuriating both in the steam and the dejected look on Tyler’s face. A chair! An actual chair! After finishing, you took the robe hanging off the hook, figuring it was your prerogative as a lady, and opened the door just the tiniest crack to see what Tyler was up to. What you saw made you snatch your phone off the counter and leap from your hiding place like a fearless war photographer.

The shutter clicked, a series of lightning-quick flashes that caught Tyler’s attention. By the time he whipped his head to the side with a glare and a command to “delete that!” you’d snapped half-a-dozen photographs of his position on the makeshift “bed.”

Carol must have sent up linens while you were in the shower because he’d pushed the chair up against the coffee table in a futile attempt to be more comfortable; his legs stuck out to a truly comical degree and he was covered in a floral blanket that could only be described as grandmotherly. Your phone—bless it—had captured the exact moment of shock mixed with absolute indignity.

There was no way he’d be able to sleep without falling over. You only hoped that when he inevitably fell on his ass it happened with enough volume to wake you from the sound sleep you’d be having in bed by yourself.

You tucked your phone in your pocket, smiling like one of Hell’s angels.

“Absolutely not,” you said to his request. “Shower's yours.”

Tyler grabbed a bundle of things off the floor.

“Let me guess, you used up all the hot water.”

“You wound me,” you lied. “I’d never be so petty.”

He scoffed, gestured to his eyes in the universal symbol of I’m watching you and moved past, locking the bathroom door with a resolute click.

A few moments later, you heard the sound of the shower turning on and settled into bed—your lovely, only-yours bed—pleased that the sheets were clean, the mattress soft, the pillows comfortable, and debated whether or not to turn on the TV, but the shower taps squealed sooner than you expected.

Huh. Guess Tyler isn’t a fan of an ice-cold rinse.

You rushed to turn off the bedside lamp, adopting a deep-sleep pose. You barely managed in the time it took him to pad out into the main room, bringing with him a warm, clean, soapy smell.

You held your breath, imagined he could tell you were faking—especially when he paused his movements at the foot of your bed. But then his footsteps moved towards his sad little chair and he turned off his own light.

All you heard for a while was the rustling of sheets, the creaking of the chair beneath his weight. There was a moment of total silence when you almost fell asleep. Then he tossed and turned. The chair protested. You heard him groan.

“Y’alright over there?” you asked, hoping the answer was no.

Tyler’s words were laced with sarcasm.

“Who, me? Just peachy.”

“Nighty-night, then.”

You sighed contentedly and dozed, thinking about Tyler’s future back pain and the satisfaction of winning Carol over to your side with a generous tip. Take that, Tyler’s dimples! The problem was, you actually wanted to get a few hours’ sleep; there was still a fair bit of driving left for you to do, and Tyler just wouldn't shut up.

You heard every creak, shift, and sound of frustration.

Finally, you sat up and growled, “Could you try being more quietly uncomfortable?”

“Hey, I’m just trying to sleep.”

“I can hear your breathing all the way over here!”

“That's not my breathing,” he said, “that’s your guilty conscience.”

You glared into the dark. I will not let him get the better of me. You took a fortifying breath and kept your voice light—viciously light.

“You know, there’s still time for you to sleep in your car. You’ll be the first person ever to be cryogenically frozen.”

“That's not how cryogenics works, you muppet.”

You launched a pillow in his direction, pleased when it made contact. He sat up and protested, “Hey!”

“Did you just call me a muppet?! You know, if you disappeared I could always blame the storm.”

“Carol would remember me,” he rejoined.

“Maybe I’ll disappear Carol too.”

“Wow, two bodies? Sounds like you'll have your work cut out for you.”

“I’m very resourceful.”

“Oh, I bet you are…”

Argh! Slamming your fists down, you ground out the words you’d been holding back ever since you saw his grinning rodeo-ass face in New York:

“There is no way I’m letting you win that Heller Grant!”

Your nostrils flared, chest heaved, eyes all but emitted laser beams. Tyler, for his part, remained annoyingly composed.

“I don't think that's up to you. But,” he added, “I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you.”

“Really? And why’s that?”

“No reason, just a friendly head’s up.”

“Something tells me there’s nothing friendly about it.”

He paused. “Hey, what’s a little harmless competition between meteorologists, right?”

“…Did you really just ask that question?”

You both knew scientists were messy as fuck. Denying that they could be egotistical, overly dramatic, delicate with their egos, and especially prone to schadenfreude was a cheap attempt on Tyler’s part.

He chuckled, as if admitting it was true.

“Fine, touché. But it’s really not personal. It's a grant—everyone wants to win it. It’s not like we’re trying to run you out of business or anything.”

“Oh, believe me, we aren’t worried about that,” you shot back. “Everyone knows Kate Carter is the ace up your sleeve. But that’s it—one ace.”

“One ace is all you need.”

“Not in this economy it’s not.”

“It’s about the storms!” Tyler said. “You do get that, don't you? Saving lives, limiting damage…”

“Right, I forgot—you're Saint Tyler, the Tornado Wrangler for profit!” you mocked.

There was a silence in the room, accusatory. Deafening. After this, you were definitely going on Santa’s Naughty list, you thought, not only this year but for at least fifteen to life.

“Sorry, that was shitty,” you admitted, swallowing your pride.

“Yeah, it was. You have no idea why I do what I do. And obviously I have no idea why you’re such a—”

“Bitch?” you supplied.

“I wouldn't use that word. I wouldn't,” he reiterated seriously. “I was going to say ‘why you’re such a bee in my bonnet.’”

You let out a snort. “Shut up.”

“Has anyone ever told you you're unreasonably distrustful?”

“Only about three-point-five therapists.”

“Why the point-five?” he asked.

“One was a grad student.”

He laughed. “Guess weather research doesn’t pay—even if you do wear fancy suits.”

That made you smile. You and Tyler were as diametrically opposed as two could people get, even down to your clothes.

“Let’s just agree,” you said, remembering the spirit of the season, “that we rub each other the wrong way and leave it at that.”

“Hey, I’ve never had a problem with you. I mean, yeah, we’re always up against each other for funding. It’s a race to the top—winner takes all, whoever publishes first gets the bragging rights. But that’s the game—I know that. Now, if you have a problem with me, this seems like as good a time as any to clear the air because I really have no idea what I could've done to make you hate my guts like this.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Oh, sure, be the mature one, take the high road… Tell me, Owens, does it ever get exhausting being so fucking perfect all the time?”

Another pause.

“What the hell are you going on about?” The chair creaked. “‘Perfect’? I’ve never said I was—FUCK!”

You perked up, reached an arm to turn on the light. Tyler was sprawled on the floor. The coffee table and chair were no longer attached and he was nursing what looked to be his hip while kicking at the granny blanket tangled round legs.

“Did you just fall into the gap?” you said eagerly, trying to record the image in your brain.

He wrestled the blanket until he finally won, then stood resentfully, his hair mussed, a crazed look in his eyes.

“Yes, I fell into the gap! But there was no video evidence,” he said pointing. “You can’t prove it. At this rate, it might be smarter to sleep on the floor.”

“Looks like it.”

You watched him kick the chair away with his foot and lay the blanket on top of the coarse brown carpet. He tossed his pillow down and picked up the sheet, holding it in front of his body and looking like he might actually prefer to try his luck in the parking lot than on the inhospitable floor. You observed him with interest, biting your thumbnail and watching his throat move with a sigh, the dejected set of his shoulders, the strong jaw set until it looked like it would break glass.

“Oh, fine!” you said. “You look like my senior dog trying to decide where to lay down!”

“You have a dog?” he asked with enough skepticism to be insulting.

“She lives with my sister.”

“What’s her name?” His jaw relaxed, eyes softened.

“Doppler. Don’t laugh!” you exclaimed, though it fell on deaf ears.

“That’s kind of… really nerdy.”

“Do you want to sleep on the floor?”

“I’m sleeping on the floor anyway.”

You whipped the covers off the left side of the bed. Tyler’s eyes almost bugged out of his head.

“No.”

“Come on, Owens, I don't have cooties.”

“It’s not about the cooties, I’m trying not to get killed Basic Instinct-style!”

You knew the scene: Sharon Stone fucking her rock star boyfriend before stabbing him to death with an ice pick. Unbidden, your mind filled with images of Tyler underneath you, his throat bared to you as you rode him.

“You wish!”

Tyler looked at you sternly.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“We’ll make a divider out of pillows!” you suggested, starting the master feat of engineering by plopping all your extra ones vertically down the center of the bed.

You didn’t know where this sudden stroke of generosity had come from. Only ten minutes before you would’ve been perfectly fine—nay, ecstatic—to know that Tyler was about to spend six hours in pain and discomfort.

Maybe it was your guilty conscience. Maybe he’d convinced you that this vendetta you had against him was one-sided and kind of silly. Maybe you just wanted to get some damn sleep without feeling like you were racking up bad karma by not offering to share the bed.

He eyed your attempts like a skeptic, his hands on his hips.

Damn, they were slutty little white tees… you thought.

“This is ridiculous,” he pointed out. And yet he’d dropped the sheet and stopped all attempts at sleeping on the floor like an imprisoned martyr.

“Ridiculous” was a good way to describe what the start of this holiday was turning out to be. If you’d told your past self that come December 23rd you’d be sharing a hotel room, even a bed, with Tyler Owens, you’d have laughed in your own face. But here it was—courtesy of the weather, a possible redheaded Christmas elf, and a series of minor coincidences that had all resulted in this: you shrugging and saying, “Tell me something I don’t know. Tick-tock,” you added with a clap for emphasis, “my goodwill has a time limit!”

“Very festive of you. Are you sure this is okay?”

He approached you with a cautious air, turning down the covers like you might yell “psych!” and attack him at any moment. Even when he laid himself down, it was at the very edge of the bed, and you thought he might end up on the floor anyway given a hasty mid-sleep roll, but then, that would be his own doing and he’d have nothing else to blame but his own clumsiness.

“Just keep your hands to yourself,” you decreed.

“Obviously.”

You turned the light off.

This isn’t so bad, you thought. If you closed your eyes, you could almost forget he was there. You hummed to yourself, snuggling down, finally making headway on the quest for rest and relaxation. Twenty minutes passed, maybe an hour. Hell, it might have been two—all you knew was that Tyler was not keeping up his end of the bargain.

“You’re encroaching on my space!” you hissed, pushing back against pillows that had moved to your side of the bed.

Tyler turned, not remorseful in the least. “I’ve got, like, half-a-foot on you! What do you want me to do?”

“That’s sizeist,” you sniffed.

There was a sound from his direction.

“Are you laughing?” you accused.

“Yeah, I’m laughing… You’re funny. And that’s how I know I don’t have a problem with you.”

You were unexpectedly pleased, despite his bed theft and the rehashing of your previous conversation. No one had ever called you funny before, though you’d always thought you were.

Tyler Owens thinks I’m funny?

So sue me—you were only human and not above hoarding little compliments.

“What did you mean,” he started to ask, shifting so that he could lay on his back, “about me being ‘perfect’? Not that I don’t find it flattering, it's just not true at all and it didn't sound like a good thing, by the way that you said it.”

You kept silent, staring at the A/C unit attached to the wall.

“I know you’re not asleep!” he declared, poking you in the back.

“And how would you know what I sound like asleep?”

“Well, it wouldn't sound like speaking, now would it?”

Shit. He had a point.

You let out a sigh, regretting your magnanimity now that you were in a dark room side-by-side with the man and couldn't avoid his charm or the ease he inspired like magic.

You’d always found that the most unsettling thing about him.

“You’re gonna get the grant,” you admitted with more sincerity than you meant. In your voice you could hear the layers of frustration and insecurity and anger and disappointment that you couldn’t face in the day, when you had people counting on you and a reputation to uphold.

Tyler was quiet a moment.

“You don't know that.”

“Yeah, I do. I’m not good with the whole… schmoozing thing. Not like you are.”

“Schmoozing?” he asked.

“That’s what it is! You’re good with people.”

“So are you.”

“No, I’m not,” you laughed bitterly, craning your neck to say it over your shoulder. “I’m prickly.”

“That’s bullshit,” Tyler said. “And, anyway, this is research, not a personality contest.”

“Ha!”

“You do know there are plenty of prickly scientists out there getting people to throw money at them all the time? Sometimes, it’s the pricklier the better—people think that if you're really a genius, you should treat everyone around you like the bottom of the garbage pail.”

“It’s different for you,” you pointed out.

“How so?”

You sat up, eyeing his shadowed form.

“Well, sweetie, there’s this thing called discrimination—it’s what happens when having certain anatomy makes people more inclined to think you know what you're doing.”

“Very profound… That’s not what you meant.”

He was right. While sexism did come into funding, as it came into a lot of things where it had no place, your main gripe about Tyler had nothing to do with him being a man and everything to do with him being, well, him.

You raked a hand through your hair.

“All you have to do is walk into a room and get pally with the panel,” you confessed. “I can’t compete with that.”

Somehow, through the dark, his eyes found yours. His expression was unreadable, but you could feel his attention on you, his scrutiny—thoughtful, patient, wanting to understand.

“I don’t know what to say,” he said at last.

“Seriously? You’re gonna make me be honest with you and then leave me holding the hot potato of awkwardness?”

“I’m not doing it on purpose,” he laughed. “I just… It’s not like I get up in the morning thinking, ‘Hm, what grant can I possibly steal from you today?’”

“Right,” you drawled, “you just can’t help being you.”

“I can’t!” he insisted, rising up on his elbows. “I like people. I like meeting them… talking to them—even the buttoned-up ones that look like they haven't been outside of an office building in months. I can't apologize for that. But it is a little unfair of you if your sole reason for being mean to me all the time amounts to two cents and a bit of pocket lint.”

“I am not mean!” you protested.

Tyler cocked his head.

“Okay, maybe I’m a bit brusque,” you allowed. “But I let you sleep in my bed!”

“For which I’ll be forever grateful…”

You opened your mouth.

“…but not enough to turn down the grant.”

You shrugged, not expecting him to hand you the award on a silver platter.

“It was worth a shot,” you said. Another joke.

Tyler gestured with his hands; you could see them fluttering around expressively in the near dark.

“You’ve just gotta stop approaching people and automatically assuming that they’re not on your side,” he said gently, and because you were a contrarian, you chose to take at least one-sixteenth of offense.

“Are you mansplaining relationships to me?”

“Not mansplaining, just a friendly bit of advice. Take it or leave it,” he tacked on, shrugging his shoulders—damn his shoulders…

“Thanks.”

You were trying to wrestle your brain away from the thought of his bare chest again.

His bare chest… the expanse of his chiseled abs, the dip of his hips…

You looked away, your face as hot as your shame. You would not have sex thoughts about a man you were sharing a bed platonically with. You would not admit to yourself that your traitorous gaze had wandered down to the outline of certain parts while he was standing there in gray sweats and a white T-shirt that left little or nothing to your debauched imagination.

You would not.

You would not.

Santa, come get me before I forfeit all brownie points for life.

“Now this is awkward.” The words slipped out of your mouth. You pulled the sheet up to your chin as if it were a straitjacket and Tyler chuckled to himself, probably thinking that you meant awkwardness at having a moment of vulnerability rather than red-hot lust.

“Go to sleep,” he said kindly, turning back on his left side.

“Alright. Night.”

“Night.”

-

Later, you would swear it didn't happen on purpose. At some point in the night, after Christmas Eve had settled well and truly over this random Oklahoma town, the pillow fort was forgotten as you and Tyler fell asleep, succumbing to the fatigue of the day’s travel and your late-night conversations.

The first inkling you had was that your pillow was far too warm against your cheek—and it moved, up and down, like the gentle swaying of a boat upon a calm sea. When you regained enough consciousness, you realized that the “pillow” kept a beat, and that's when you realized your pillow wasn't a pillow at all but the cradle of Tyler’s chest.

He’s quite comfortable, you thought, still half-asleep. He had his arm thrown around you and the tips of his fingers rested against a patch of naked back where your shirt had ridden up.

So far, so good; you couldn’t complain about the weighted blanket treatment—at least not in your hazy, sleep-softened state. You sighed happily, snuggling further into his shirt.

You felt his arms tighten.

His breathing shift.

You were straddling the line between dream and wakefulness when you noticed his legs tangled up in yours…

…and the hard protrusion pressing right against your stomach.

You opened your eyes. Tyler was awake and springing out of bed like he had a whole swarm of bees in his bonnet.

“Oh god,” he exclaimed, “I am so sorry! That is not… I did not—”

“It’s fine,” you tried to say.

“No! No, it’s not.”

“Tyler, would you stop acting like a virgin with the vapors? It’s cold, I’m not the stillest of sleepers, nothing was meant by it.”

He ran a hand through his hair, then put it on his hip, then pointed—you didn’t know at whom, he was simply unable to be still, and the more he panicked the more you thought it was silly how he was making such a big deal out of nothing.

(Okay, so maybe it wasn't nothing, but one of you had to be the adult about it.)

“I was not trying to put the moves on you,” he emphatically declared.

“That was made abundantly clear by what you said to Carol. Also by the drool on your pillow.”

“The—”

His gaze darted. His face took on an added hue of pallid as he bent over his pillow and straightened, eyebrows battened, finding nothing there.

“See, that was mean.”

“No, that was funny,” you laughed.

The whole time, you did your best to keep your eyes trained above his shoulders, though you had a bone-deep curiosity now that you’d felt the impression of his dick against your skin.

If your periphery was to be trusted—which, your doctor said you had excellent vision in that regard—he was as well-endowed as he was rumored to be, sometimes with envy, sometimes pejoratively and in relation to his ego. Now that you’d spent an entire day crossing paths, you weren't so sure about that last bit. But you were sure that in the privacy of your own thoughts, you’d have a bitch of a time unknowing that Tyler Owens was, in every regard, unfairly blessed.

“Back to neutral corners?” you asked, patting the bed.

Tyler stared at the mattress with something like horror.

“You are not being normal about this!” you exclaimed.

“Maybe I oughta sleep on the floor.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, it’s just for a few hours more.”

You sighed.

“Tyler James Owens, now you are the one being a muppet.”

“Take that back! And how do you even know my middle name?”

“It’s called Google. Now stop acting like a muppet and I’ll stop calling you one!”

Drat… You were so close, but your eyes snagged on the bulge in his pants at the exact moment Tyler was looking at you. There was no way to deny it.

You wiped your face of all expression.

Tyler pleaded, “Do not make this worse for me than it already is.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“You don’t have to, it's written all over your face.”

Me? My face? You pointed at yourself.

Tyler huffed, “You aren't letting me forget this for as long as I live, are you?”

“Not in your dreams…” you fessed up. “Need me to pace around the hall for ten minutes, let you take care of business? I have a spare sock you can hang on the door.”

“You’re evil.”

“Nooooo, where are you going?” you needled, watching him head to the bathroom with a scowl on his face. “I was having so much fun!”

“Mind your own business!” he yelled back.

“But Tyler, it’s perfectly natural!”

He locked the door.

Only then did you cover your mouth and really let yourself have a laugh.

-

He took exactly 23 minutes. You knew because you timed him, a childish impulse you indulged in trade for not probing the question of what he might be thinking about as he got off. Obviously, you knew enough biology to not flatter yourself into believing that his morning wood was down to you; still, you allowed yourself to believe it just the tiniest bit. It made you feel better—to think he was affected by you. To believe you weren’t alone in being provoked to unexpected places.

He came up to the bed with a wary glance. On purpose, you pretended to be uncommonly interested in your nails.

“I thought you’d be asleep.”

“Didn’t feel like it,” you said, buffing a nonexistent spot on your shirt. “All good?”

“Don’t start.” He took his pillow and made for the chair.

You clicked your tongue. “You really don't have to sleep on the floor, you know…”

Which was kind.

“...I thought that was the whole point of Tyler’s Special Solo Time.”

Which wasn’t.

He rounded on you with his finger outstretched.

“Do not call it that!”

“Okay!”

“Never again!”

“Fine!”

“And for your information—that isn’t what I was doing in there.”

“Oh!” you said, genuinely surprised, “I just assumed…”

“Well, you know what they say about assuming.”

You make an ASS out of U and ME.

Color me surprised—you genuinely thought Tyler had been in the bathroom rubbing one out.

Could it be that he was too much of a gentleman to do it with you the next room over? That seemed like the likeliest explanation.

You were touched. Weirdly, inappropriately.

Also let down by the fact that you weren’t sexually irresistible enough to make him lose all sense of propriety—granted, you hadn’t been trying to be sexually irresistible at the time, more like drooling into his shirt.

“God, what?” he asked, eyes boring into yours like he was trying to crack open your mind and read it like a book, pushed to the brink when he couldn’t figure out what you were thinking or if you believed him about not masturbating in the bathroom.

“Nothing! Why are you chewing me out just because you got an erection?”

“Don’t say ‘erection’!”

You rolled your eyes.

“I’m not gonna call it a boner—I’m not in middle school anymore!”

“You have gotta be kidding me…”

He face-planted onto the bed, not consciously, you didn’t think, more like the natural result of a situation that’d understandably fried his brain.

You could relate… and it was supremely satisfying to hear him say the words you’d been thinking for over a day: you have got to be kidding me, indeed.

“This is the weirdest fucking Christmas I have ever had,” he mumbled into the mattress.

You laughed, feeling not an ounce of animosity as you watched his prone form. He was funny, and he’d been nicer than you deserved. You no longer believed that he had kicked you in the back during your flight on purpose.

“What are your plans for the holidays?” you asked him, letting him off the hook about his penis.

He turned his head and searched you for any trace of nefarious intent. He answered when he was sure you weren’t going to keep messing with him.

“The team and I are going to Kate’s. Then I’m spending the start of the New Year at home, hopefully, if there isn’t another fire to put out.”

“You’re from Arkansas,” you said.

“Mm.”

“‘Regnat populus.’”

He quirked his brow.

“‘The People Rule,’” you explained. “You don't know your own state’s motto?”

“Nobody knows their state’s motto.”

“I had to learn them all for school.”

“High school?”

“Elementary.”

“Oh,” he laughed, “so you grew up rich.”

“Shut up.”

He sat against the headboard next to you, crossing his ankles.

“What made you want to become a meteorologist?”

“Seriously?” you asked.

“What?”

“It’s a cliched question.”

“It’s a getting-to-know-you question!”

You frowned.

“Why would you ever want to get to know me? I’ve done nothing but fight you since the day we met.”

“Why wouldn't I?”

Plain, simple.

The lamplight made it impossible to hide a thing. There was a line between his brows, as if he couldn’t for the life of him understand why you couldn’t understand. “I like people.” You’d thought it trite at the time, you didn’t trust it, but you were thinking maybe it was true. Instead of judging you by the way you challenged, harangued, goaded, mocked, judging him, he’d kept trying to figure you out. It was one of the reasons he was good at his job—the merging of both science- and people-smarts.

If you had a brain in your head, you might learn from him. But to do that you’d have to get your head out of your ass and stop seeing him as the enemy.

Except you didn’t.

Sometime between the Heller offices and this moment in the Sunnyside Inn, your feelings towards him had changed. The animosity? Gone. All that was left in its place was a newfound respect, fresh like the layer of snow sitting over the world outside the walls of your hotel room, and, if you were being brutally honest, an attraction that was hard to ignore.

You held your breath.

His hair, glinting bronze, was sleep-mussed—the detail intimate, arousing, just like the stubble on his cheeks and the rugged line of his throat leading to the curves of those shoulders you couldn’t stop thinking about. What was that one corny-as-fuck phrase some fuckboy musician had once said?

Sexual napalm.

Tyler Owens was sexual napalm and you weren’t immune.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you said.

It was Projection 101, but in this case you weren’t entirely wrong.

Tyler’s eyes wandered down to your mouth, seductive without even trying. He was breathing as fast as you, his lips parted, tongue peeking out to wet them when he said, “Can’t.”

And that was all it took. One second you were staring at each other with twin fuck-me expressions and the next you were in his lap, your hands buried in his hair. The kiss was eager—messy—uncaring of finesse, indifferent to perfection. It was the exact opposite of the way you’d been living your life and it was mostly down to him. Even when he’d been driving you absolutely insane, there was no denying that Tyler brought out in you something hard to control. He made you ambitious, competitive, unfiltered—sometimes to an unflattering degree—but God, did it feel good.

He tilted his head and delved his tongue into your mouth. You groaned, pulled him back by the hair until you felt a rumbling sound in his throat which you decided to chase on instinct, latching your mouth onto that part of him you’d been obsessing over for the last few hours, sucking, biting, laving your way down to his clavicle.

“This is not how you get to know someone,” you joked, feeling him get hard again underneath you.

“Yeah, it is…”

“Don’t say 'biblically.’”

He laughed—it was a giggle that made you smile and peer into his face.

“You said it, not me. Are you gonna kick me out of bed later?” he asked, stroking a hand up your thigh.

“No. Are you gonna run for the hills like I soiled your virtue?”

He balked. “That is not what I did.”

“Yeah, it is!”

“Well”—he nipped your jaw, hand slyly making its own path up to your breast, which he stroked open-palmed so that you rocked your hips against his—”I promise not to be virtuous at all for the next…” He glanced at his watch. “Three hours.”

“Three hours?”

“What can I say,” he shrugged. “I’m a people pleaser. It’s my curse.”

-

Suffice to say, by the time 10:00 o’clock rolled around and you and Tyler made your way down so you could settle up the room with Carol, you were feeling like a million bucks. Not even a full spa day could have infused you with this much energy.

There was a pep in your step, a smile plastered to your face, and when Carol said, “Happy holidays! It was nice having you with us!” you were so smug that you slipped the tip in her hand and said, “Thank you, Carol, you sure made it sunny!”

Tyler cackled, but tried to do it subtly. (And failed.)

Right on the money, the snow had stopped falling during the night. It’d be a white Christmas, all right, but you should be able to drive home safely and arrive in time for lunch.

Tyler loaded your suitcase into your car, gallant as ever.

“So,” he said.

“So.”

You exchanged shy glances, which was new for you. You’d never had reason to feel shy around Tyler before, but then, you’d had him inside you not too long ago and the memory of the things you’d done, the things you’d said, which you wouldn’t admit even under threat of perjury, were enough to make you almost blush.

“We should hit the road,” you said dumbly, schooling your features into an unbothered mask.

“Yeah. I’m sure the others have already made it to Ms. Carter’s farm.”

“Well… merry Christmas.”

“Yeah, merry Christmas.”

You opened your door, settled into your seat. You were about to pull the door closed when Tyler stopped it, hand closed around the top.

“Can I call you, after the holidays?”

“Sure.”

“Okay.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

He laughed. “Who’s holding the hot potato now, you or me?”

“I think we’re sharing this one,” you replied.

“I don’t mind that.”

“Yeah,” you said, “neither do I.”

He smiled at you for a while, then closed your door and watched you drive off. You followed his movements in the rearview until your paths diverged, then turned up the radio.

“Merry Christmas Eve, one and all! It’s a gorgeous one out there—we couldn’t have asked for better weather. Here’s one just for you. I’m sure you know it, so sing along: it’s Dean Martin and it’s our ‘Winter Wonderland,’ right here, in the heart of good ol’ Oklahoma…”

[bgwlsmahf25]

A Bittersweet Christmas

pairing: WandaNat x fem!reader

genre: fluff; tiny bit of angst

warnings: reader gets a bit sad; tears (but they’re resolved!); little bit of angst

w/c: 4.7k

a/n: based on another fic I saw! credit to stuiie for their amazing fic, you really inspired me!

26 December

“It’s Wanda’s roast potatoes,” you commented, leaning forwards and taking yet another. You closed your eyes at its buttery deliciousness, the crunch of the skin merging with the fluffiness inside. “Why wouldn’t I eat more?”

“You flatter me,” Wanda laughed. She reached over and pressed your hand gently, shooting you a warm smile.

“Give me one.” Yelena thrust her overflowing plate under your nose. “Actually, give me seven.”

“Seven?!” Kate rolled her eyes, glancing fondly at her girlfriend. “You have a full plate.”

“So do you,” you pointed out, loading up Yelena’s plate with even more roasties. “Besides it’s Christmas.”

You sat back and began eating, taking in the happy crowd around the table. It had been a last-minute invite from Wanda and Natasha but you were glad to be included. To your left, Kate and Yelena were still debating Wanda’s roast potatoes. To your right was Wanda, eating slowly and quietly talking to Natasha, occasionally glancing at you and the others with a smile. At the far end of the table on your left, Carol was dodging Valkyrie’s attempts to try a Brussels sprout. The two women were sitting elbow to elbow, bursting into peals of laughter when the offending sprout veered past Carol’s nose. Their relationship was new and you were overjoyed for them, having known that Carol had held a crush on the dark-haired Asgardian for a long, long time.

You loved spending time at the Romanoff-Maximoff residence, often finding yourself at their door after work or waking up in the guest bedroom after another weekend sleepover. They’d made up a guest room just for you and it had gradually become a place of escape when life at the compound was pressuring.

“So, y/n, what have you been up to today?” Natasha called across the table, smiling at you.

“Well yesterday and today, I was actually moving my stuff out of the compound and into my brand new apartment,” you said shyly, smiling at Natasha.

There was an immediate chorus of ‘congratulations’ and a whooping cheer from Yelena but you couldn’t help noticing the absence of a reply from Wanda or Natasha. Both women seemed determined not to meet your gaze, instead exchanging a look with each other. You felt your heart clench and twisted uncomfortably in your seat.

“I’m coming over tomorrow to decorate,” Yelena said, placing a firm hand on your arm. “Please.”

“No, it should be me,” Kate pleaded, leaning across Yelena. “She has such bad taste in curtains.”

“You can both come,” you declared. “We can go to that little Italian restaurant after, it’ll be my treat.”

“Yes!” Yelena punched the air in satisfaction. You glanced at Natasha, noticing the smile on her face at her sister’s words but when she met your gaze, her smile disappeared and she looked away. You felt your stomach lurch with anger and upset. Why was she treating you this way?

“Who wants Christmas pudding?” Wanda said with a tight smile. There was a chorus of agreement and she got up, not looking in your direction, and headed into the kitchen. Natasha grabbed a stack of plates and quickly followed her.

You grabbed a dish in each hand and followed them, deciding that now would be a good moment to find out what was going on. When you reached the kitchen doorway, you paused, noticing the two of them standing close together. Natasha had her hands on Wanda’s arms, their foreheads touching, and was speaking quickly in a low voice. Wanda caught sight of you hovering and broke away from Natasha, turning towards you.

“I - I was just bringing these,” you said awkwardly. You put the dishes down on the nearest surface and abruptly headed back into the sitting room.

“Y/n. Y/n, wait.” You ignored Wanda and began hastily dragging your coat and scarf on, pulling your hat out of your pocket and jamming it down on your head. “Y/n, I can - wait, are you leaving?”

“I hope everyone has a lovely rest of the break,” you announced to the room. “Happy New Year and I’ll see you at work, probably.” You looked at Kate and Yelena, who were sitting in shocked silence along with everyone else. “You’re both welcome at my apartment any time. I’ll message you the address.”

You tried to meet Wanda and Natasha’s eye, but found it too uncomfortable so addressed the floor by their feet. “Thank you for the meal, it was delicious. Goodbye.”

Opening their front door, you hurried down the steps, hearing it click shut behind you. The tears started properly as you were walking home.

27 December

Your apartment felt dark and cold and you couldn’t stop replaying the events of the previous night in your mind. “I was so horrible,” you whispered. You’d convinced yourself that it was all your fault and felt that you should apologise.

Standing outside their house, you almost changed your mind.

With a determined breath, you headed up the steps slowly, playing through the conversation in your head. It was all dependent on Natasha answering the door, but you should have expected that things weren’t going to go the way you’d imagined.

Wanda didn’t say anything for a moment when she opened the door. She was dressed in a knitted sweater that you recognised you’d given her and a pair of loose fitting jeans, with big fluffy slippers. She looked like home and you longed to rush into her arms.

“Y/n.” She sounded surprised. “I - what -”

“Can I come in?” You kept your voice calm, but your emotions were raging. Wanda slowly moved aside and gestured for you to enter. You stood awkwardly in their hallway, feeling too warm in the heat of their house but refusing to take your coat off, in case they thought you were planning to stay.

Wanda seemed to suddenly regain her voice. “Can I get you a drink? Tea, coffee, hot chocolate?”

“I - no, thank you,” you said, your voice breaking on the last syllable.

“At least come in and sit down,” she urged gently. “Please?”

“O-okay.” You slowly pulled your coat off but didn’t let her take it, instead bundling it up in your arms and following her into the sitting room, having left your shoes by the door for a quick escape if you needed it.

Natasha was sitting in her usual armchair by the window. She looked up in surprise as you entered. There was a pile of papers on her lap and you realised she was catching up on grading trainees’ work for SHIELD. She pushed a pair of glasses up onto the top of her head and surveyed you curiously.

“We, um, we weren’t expecting you after yesterday,” Wanda began.

You saw your opening. “Yes, I know, I’m sorry. I turned up unannounced. I just - I wanted to say that I’m sorry about how yesterday went. It was very rude of me to leave as I did when you’d invited me and given me a meal and everything. I just felt that I couldn’t stay anymore,” you ended in a whisper.

“What’s wrong, y/n?” Natasha said gently. She’d always been able to see you more clearly than Wanda, despite the witch’s mind-reading abilities.

You coughed back tears, a lump rapidly building in your throat. “Can I speak plainly?” They both nodded and you took a deep breath, realising this might be the beginning of the end of your friendship with them.

“I feel like an outsider to your relationship, and I know I’ll never have a place in it but it’s becoming harder and harder to come over. That’s why I spent so much time at the compound and that’s why I’ve now got myself my own place. It felt right to move out of the compound, rather than sofa-surfing.” You hoped that they could read between the lines with what you weren’t saying.

Wanda went quiet, twisting her fingers over and over and watching Natasha intently. The spy was gazing at you however, her expression fierce and protective, but disarmingly gentle at the same time. It unnerved you and you looked away.

“You caught feelings,” she said softly. Wanda stared at Natasha then her gaze flicked to you then back to Natasha then finally focused upon the floor. Natasha smiled. “That’s why you feel like an outsider, because you want to be in this with us.”

‘You’ and ‘us’ rang loudly in your mind, making you wince slightly. The separation between you and the two women was more obvious than ever before. You nodded slowly then hastily got up. “I have to leave. I hope you understand why. Goodbye.”

“Stop saying goodbye,” Wanda said, her voice breaking and tears forming in her eyes. “Please stop saying goodbye.”

You almost ran to her to give her a hug but instead you left, quickly and quietly slipping out the front door for the second time in 24 hours. You felt horrible for leaving them again but you felt suffocated sitting there talking to them and you didn’t want to see the expressions on Wanda’s face anymore. It was hurting you too much.

29 December

Your phone was ringing.

You glanced at it, not surprised to see Natasha’s icon flashing on your screen. Hesitating slightly, you eventually decided to answer. “Natasha.”

“Y/n. Is now a good time to talk?”

You shifted uncomfortably. She wanted a conversation and you wanted to be left alone, but you also wanted to speak to them. You missed spending time with them, even though it had only been a day. “I guess?”

“What’s wrong?” she said, her voice gentle. “I know that this is hurting you. Talk to me.”

“Natasha, I -” The tears started suddenly and you found yourself crying, bent over double in the middle of your kitchen. “I - I can’t…”

“Deep breaths, sweetheart.” Her voice was calm but firm. “In, and hold, and out, breathe all the way out. Now breathe in again, and hold. Keep holding, and out, breathe it all out.” She waited for your choked sobs to even out. “Y/n, I know this is hard and I’m so proud of you for being brave and speaking out about this. I can appreciate that it must have been very difficult to hold it in for so long. But I really feel that it’s better now that you’ve told us because we can talk about it with you.”

“You keep saying ‘this’ and ‘it,’” you whispered. “But what exactly is it?”

“Well… what would you like it to be?”

You held back a gasp of surprise. Nobody had asked you that kind of question before and it took you by surprise. Natasha had always understood you, you didn’t know how she did it but she was able to take one look, assess what was on your mind and calm you down.

“Y/n? Are you still there, darling?”

“I - yes, I’m here,” you whispered. “I just - nobody’s asked me that before.”

“Take your time. And remember, feelings are a two-way street sometimes. You have them, but the other person, or people, might have them too. Have you ever thought about that?”

You were crying again, tears making tracks down your cheeks. You didn’t even hear Natasha’s attempts to calm you down as you choked out, “I’m s-so alone, Nat. It’s just me now and I feel so stupid for even saying anything to you and Wanda. It’s just made it all worse and now I’ve lost your friendship. I just - I can’t do it anymore. Goodbye.”

“Where do you live?” Natasha’s voice was calm and it soothed you, which made you cry harder, knowing that you weren’t going to have these conversations for much longer. “Y/n, give me your address.” She was firm but not demanding and in a shaky voice, you told her your address. “Don’t leave. I’m coming over.” The phone went dead and you fell to the floor, your chest shaking and wails coming out of your mouth.

Natasha was quicker than you’d expected. You stumbled to the door to answer her knock then fell against it once you saw it really was her outside. She kindly but firmly gathered you into her arms and walked you into your flat, shutting the door behind you. “Ssh, ssh, darling, it’s okay, I’m here now,” she soothed, holding you tightly against her.

“I’m so sorry,” you sobbed. “I'm so sorry for it all. I never meant to hurt either of you and I-”

“Y/n, you’re okay,” Natasha whispered, kissing the top of your head. “I’ve got you and I’m not letting you go. You haven’t hurt anyone, only yourself, and we will heal that together.” She cupped your face in her hands, brushing away the tear tracks on your cheeks and smiled at you. “No more tears, m’kay? From now on, if you’re troubled by anything - and I mean anything - you talk to me or Wanda.”

“But I can’t,” you gasped. “I - your relationship - I - I’m a homewrecker. I can’t-”

Natasha put her finger on your lips, silencing your cries. She held you in a tight grip, resting her chin on the top of your head and cradling you against her body. She held you until your cries had died to whimpers and then silence. For the first time in a long time, you felt safe and secure.

“Now,” Natasha said, leaning back to meet your gaze, a smile on her face, “shall we go home? Wanda’s expecting us.”

For the first time in days, you gave her a smile.

29 December: evening

“Oh my darling,” Wanda said, taking in your tear-swollen face. “Come here.” She opened her arms and you walked into her hug. She smelt like cinnamon and you smiled against her, realising she’d been baking. She wrapped her arms around you, holding you tightly and kissed the top of your head. “It’s okay, you’re home now.”

“Y-you’re not mad?” you said anxiously, pulling away and staring at her.

“Why would I be mad, sweet girl?”

“I - what I said, and then I - I left - I left like that.” You pointed at the door, your abrupt exits replaying in your mind. “I - I hurt you. I’m - I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Darling, I’m not mad at you,” Wanda whispered. “Not for any of it, so get those thoughts out of your mind, okay? And I’m not hurt, I understand that you were upset and you have a lot of big feelings going on.” She smiled. “We’re going to talk about it, all in good time, I promise. For now, let’s just eat some cookies, yes? Natasha and I were watching a movie - do you want to watch it with us?”

You nodded, leaning against her. She gave you a one-armed squeeze then guided you to a place in the sitting room. A tin of cinnamon cookies sat on a coffee table in front of one of their sofas. Natasha sat down in the seat she’d evidently vacated to come and get you and Wanda sat on your other side, her hand resting gently on your knee as she passed the cookie tin around.

You leant back into the cushions, feeling warm and slightly happier. Natasha put an arm around you, relaxing into the sofa and resting her head on your shoulder. Wanda leant gently against you, intently focused upon the movie, occasionally laughing at something one of the actors said.

30 December

The two women insisted you spend the night in your usual room. You woke the following morning to the smell of bacon and laughter. Wrapping yourself in an old hoodie of Natasha’s, you slowly made your way downstairs, noticing that most of the photos hanging by the stairs contained photos of you with Natasha and Wanda. You traced a photo of the three of you in Times Square, remembering the giant hot chocolates Wanda had purchased for you.

“You’re up.” Natasha was smiling at the foot of the stairs. “Breakfast’s ready, are you hungry?”

You nodded and followed her into the kitchen, eyes widening at the pancakes, bacon, mixed berries and coffee pot that were placed on the table. Natasha placed her hands on your shoulders, guiding you to an empty seat. You tipped your head back, looking up at her and she bent down to kiss your forehead, a smirk on her face.

“Let’s eat,” Wanda said happily, loading your plate with pancakes, bacon and berries, whilst Natasha poured coffee.

You paused halfway through your breakfast and looked nervously at the others. They caught onto your gaze and looked expectantly at you. Pushing your plate away from you, you cleared your throat uncertainly. “I, um, I think we should probably talk.”

“We can finish breakfast and then talk,” Wanda said gently. You sensed her hesitation around you and realised that she thought you were going to pull another quick exit if she raised her voice one notch.

You sighed in frustration. “I - I need a minute.” Getting up, you went into the sitting room and began pacing, wondering how you were going to talk about your feelings with both of them watching you. Nothing sounded right in your head and you were working yourself into an anxiety attack when a pair of hands landed gently on your shoulders.

“Y/n.” It was Wanda, her expression kind. “I want you to say whatever you want to say. You don’t have to keep it inside or phrase it for how you think we want to hear it. Just say what’s on your mind and your heart, darling.”

“That was only 45 seconds, not a minute,” you blurted, then groaned at the inadequacy of your brain. A smile was playing around Wanda’s mouth, but she didn’t say anything, just encouraged you with a nod of her head.

“Okay.” You squared your shoulders and sat down, perching on the edge of the nearest sofa. “Yes, okay, I can do this. Look, it’s nice that you’ve brought me over to watch a movie and spend the night and cook me breakfast, but it’s confusing. I left because I needed to put distance between you two and me.” You sighed. “It’s confusing me, all the back and forth. I say something, then I leave, then you bring me back and play hostess. I don’t mind that, but I don’t know what your intentions are and I can’t get a read on either of you and it’s - confusing,” you finished awkwardly.

Wanda looked at Natasha and something unspoken passed between the two of them. You were chewing at your fingernails, worried that you’d said the wrong thing, but Natasha reached out, taking your hands in hers and stopping your nervous habit.

“Natasha and I talked yesterday. A lot.” Wanda had to clear her throat as her voice caught slightly. “Y/n, if you’ll have us, we want you in our relationship.” You stared, sure you’d misheard her, but Wanda wasn’t finished speaking. “I had a relationship. A long time ago. There were 4 of us and it was one of the happiest times of my life. When it ended, it was some of the worst pain I’ve ever felt - and I’ve had a lot of pain,” she added, her gaze suddenly distant. “I thought that only being with one other person was all I could manage but I -” Her voice caught and she looked to Natasha for support.

“Wanda means that she likes having a relationship with just me, but it’s not what she wants. And I’ve been feeling the same, y/n, ever since I met - you.” Natasha’s voice became thick and she swallowed hurriedly. “You bring out something in me that - something good. I’ve got a lot of red in my ledger,” she admitted, “and a lot of pain in my story and I want that to stop clouding my judgement, my decisions, the way I live, the way I act. When I met you, I realised that life could be different.” She gripped your hands tighter. “You’re a breath of fresh air, y/n, in my life. I don’t want a future if you’re not in it. I want a future with both of you,” she added, turning to Wanda.

You were crying, tears running down your cheeks as you realised the depth of the two women’s feelings for you. It felt overwhelming but completely freeing at the same time and you gasped in relief, feeling some of the weight come away from your shoulders. You gave a happy sigh then started crying afresh when you noticed that Wanda was crying too and Natasha’s eyes were red and she was swallowing a lump in her throat.

“I think I’m dreaming,” you whispered. “This feels too good to be true.”

“Believe it, my love, because it’s very true and very real,” Natasha said happily, pulling you onto her lap. You squealed in happiness and leant against her, placing your hand on top of hers. Wanda added her hand on top of yours and you pulled the witch closer, eyes closing in relief.

New Year’s Eve

“I’m keeping the apartment,” you said to Natasha, leaning against a large mirror in the hallway and adjusting the fluffy black sweater you were wearing. “But you’re welcome there any time. It can be a space for me to -” you gestured wildly, searching for words.

“...be yourself?” Natasha offered, her eyes twinkling. “Okay, but you can be yourself right here in this hallway, y/n.”

You laughed as she pulled you flush against her, resting her chin on the top of your head and dancing to music only she could hear. You listened to her steady heartbeat and smiled, leaning back and spinning her into a twirl before dipping her and touching your nose to hers. Natasha’s breath slowed and her pupils dilated, her eyes flicking down to your lips.

“It’s not midnight,” you teased, pulling her upright and opening the door with a flourish to greet Carol and Valkyrie.

“Y/n!” they exclaimed in surprise. “You’re here!”

“I’m here,” you smiled, taking coats and pointing them down the hallway to the sitting room. “Oh, and Val, can you help Wanda with the wine?”

“You got it,” Valkyrie called back, heading towards the kitchen. You looked over at Natasha, who was watching you breathlessly, her eyes shining. “What?”

“What - what?” She grabbed you, pulling you into a hug and kissing your cheek fiercely. “Don’t ever change, y/n, unless it’s for the better.”

You pressed your fingers to your lips and pressed them to her cheek, leaving the faintest trace of your lipstick behind. Opening the door to Kate and Yelena, the two of them fell on you with excited, happy squeals, chattering about how you were back where you belonged and shouting ‘Happy New Year.’

“It’s not midnight yet,” you laughed again, grabbing their coats. “C’mon, everyone’s gathering in the sitting room for the countdown. Wine or bubbly?”

Natasha took your arm, pulling you aside. She leant in and you leant back, anxious to avoid a kiss before midnight. “I just - y/n, I -” Her eyes were saying what her words couldn’t and you realised with a jolt that those three little words were about to emerge. “I know, Nat,” you replied, running a hand down her arm, “I know, I feel it too.”

“It’s starting!” The voices from the sitting room brought you back to reality and you hurried into the room, Natasha following you. You took in the merry, laughing crowds on the TV and watched the numbers slowly change backwards.

“...9…8…7…”

You looked over at Wanda, who was watching you with a fierce gaze and a bright-eyed smile. She gripped your hand in hers, tracing patterns across your knuckles with her finger.

“...6…5…4…”

You stared at Natasha on your other side, who was watching you just as intently, her eyes fixed firmly on yours before sliding down to your lips, her own parted in expectation.

“3…2…1…Happy New Year!”

You pulled Wanda towards you and kissed her, savouring the taste of the cherry wine she’d been drinking. Natasha pulled you apart and crashed her lips into yours, kissing you passionately, eagerly, like she was going to drown if she didn’t kiss you. It made your knees weak and your head swim and you smiled, raising your glass of champagne watching Wanda and Natasha kiss.

“Ohmygod, you kissed them!” Kate screamed in your ear, whilst Yelena hopped about, spilling champagne and chanting in Russian. “You kissed both of them - are you three finally an item?!”

“You knew?” you gasped, hugging Kate.

“Of course I knew! The entire compound knew, it was obvious the way you felt for them and how they felt about you,” she grinned. “I once had a 10-minute conversation with Natasha about ‘work’ but work was you,” she smirked. “The woman’s head-over-heels for you and so is Wanda. The amount of baking she’s done for you, jumpers she’s knitted -”

You stared at Wanda and Natasha, who had their arms around each other and were watching the celebrations. You walked over to them, enveloping them in a hug. You were spilling your champagne, but you didn’t care. “I love you. I love you. I love both of you so much. I love you.” You kissed each of them again in turn, murmuring more ‘I love you’s against their lips.

“I love you too,” Natasha sighed happily, the words coming easily. “I love you so much, y/n. I love you,” she continued, kissing Wanda gently.

“I love you, y/n, my darling, and Natasha, my darling,” Wanda said happily.

New Year’s Day: Epilogue

“Oh!” you gasped, opening the box. “I - it’s beautiful.” You slipped the ring onto your finger, admiring the way it sparkled in the light. It was gold, with tiny diamonds scattered around it, creating a twinkling, sparkling effect when you moved your hand in the light.

Wanda and Natasha held their hands out, displaying matching rings. Natasha looked up at you with a smile. “It’s a promise. A promise to love you forever, to look after you when you get tired or sick, until death do us part,” she ended softly.

“I - I don’t know what to say,” you replied, tears starting in the corner of your eyes. “I love it - I love you.”

“It’s our promise to you, and our promise to each other,” Wanda said, wrapping her arms around you and leaning her head on your shoulder.

“I have something for you,” you added, pulling out a hastily wrapped present from a bag at your feet. You handed it to them, watching as they opened it slowly. “It’s to complete the other one.”

It was a photo of the three of you in Times Square, matching smiles on your faces and hot chocolates in your hands. You’d carefully written ‘forever’ in a gold pen across the bottom of the photo. “It’s my way of saying yes,” you admitted shyly.

“I love it,” Wanda smiled, turning to kiss you. “I loved that trip, we should go again soon.”

“More hot chocolate?” you chuckled, tucking your feet under you.

“More memories,” Natasha said gently. She pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. “Let’s make a list of all the things we want to do this year. Times Square,” she muttered, writing it in neat, cursive handwriting beneath the title ‘Our Year Ahead.’

You and Wanda curled up on either side of her, listing suggestions and laughing when you offered something extravagant. Occasionally, you glanced over at Wanda, meeting her gaze and leaning in for a soft kiss. Then Natasha would put a hand on your arm and you’d kiss her too, brushing her wavy red hair out of her eyes and then you just had to kiss her again. Wanda’s arm snaked around you, holding you close, while she typed one-handed on her laptop, looking up holiday destinations.

It was the perfect end to Christmas, you thought. You’d had some tears, some laughter, but you knew that there was lots of love ahead. You couldn’t wait to see what the year held for the three of you.

a/n: happy new year, readers! I hope you enjoy this one as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me know what you’d like to see from me in 2025 :) my inbox is always open!

[ice-creamforbreakfast]

My 𝐓𝐨𝐩 24 𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 from 2024🎉

Thank you to @surely-sims and @lostinsixam for tagging me 🥰

This was a bit of a wild year, so there were gaps in my simming activities, but I still got up to the usual chaos!

Tagging @obigem, @simmingnate, @eljeebee, @gilded-ghosts, @melbrewer367 and anyone else who wants to take part!

January

Starting off with Aria and Ryozo's wedding. It wasn't meant to happen, but every time I had plans to throw a spanner in the works, his little face stopped me. Of course Aria wore a pink, sequin jumpsuit.

When Elio met Allan. Aria, ever the social climber, invited Allan and his mum over to be neighbourly/nosey and Allan's first impression of Elio was less than enthusiastic. They later bonded over being scouts weirdos.

February

I started a BACC challenge and absolutely loved it, then my ADHD brain kicked in and I got very confused and it became too stressful to follow the rules 🤣 I may revisit it at some point.

As a direct result of my BACC confusion, I started playing my very old, and very loved Enekjaer rotational save in TS3. There's something lovely about time just standing still, even as the years hurtle past.

March

The Crumplebottoms celebrate Gaia's birthday. I love this save. There's no set story, only chaos.

The penny drops for Elio, who was oblivious in his scouting weirdness. I love his vacant little face.

April

The wig snatching motherplant makes itself known to Elio, and unknown to him, sets him on a path that will shape the rest of his life.

Not a screenshot as such, but one of the CC sets I'm most proud of. I was so honoured that my bestie @obigem trusted me to work with her on this collection and very happy with how it turned out.

May

I had jaw surgery and the drugs were good. I don't remember doing this, but I guess this is when I downloaded Re-Light.

My bebe Caleb in the TS3verse. He was one of the first sims I created (if not the first) when I got the TS4 CAS demo, so it felt right that he got to be in other versions of the game.

June

Elio fucked around and found out. Sure it all worked out in the end, but I did enjoy the mess.

Trashleen coming in hot with the good advice. "Let them chat shit behind your back. Rent is expensive." She's correct. Live rent-free in the heads of your enemies.

July

I spent way too much time building Evil Pappy's Glue factory for a few photos of Alan's post-school fate and subsequent rescue. It made sense in my head for an evil cowboy to have a glue factory.

August

Trashleen and Mitzipuff lead the pack when it comes to style, but they just had to jump on the 'demure and mindful' trend for this shot.

The Motherplant battle always gives amazing shots. Elio and his friends beat the Motherplant and managed to rescue Miguel.

September

I update my models subtly every so often, but this time, quite a few of them visited the CAS surgeon for some minor adjustments.

I love the entire Poppy Collection I made with @surely-sims, but this dress is my standout and I'm so pleased with what I was able to achieve with it! Izumi serves as an 80s goddess.

October

October brought us Life and Death, and of course the big face mountain deserved a Cabbagepatch photoshop edit!

And then we have three! Elio, Allan and Miguel sorted their drama and decided to try being a throuple...it just so happened that the game allowed it now.

November

I was inspired by Ravenwood, and decided to do a little elven edit. No storyline, only elves and fireflies.

November marked the return of the Smyths, and a huge change in Cabbagepatch's relationship with her arch enemy Figgyduff. The sisters joined forces to conquer the Clucking Cosa Nostra once and for all.

December

Cabbagepatch formally invites you to attend a beautiful Easter concert with some definitely Easter themed CC that will be released most generously and totally on time for the Easter season in which they are meant to be used.

@joliebean and I were on our Christmas bullshit again with our latest Christmas collab! Esther got added back into the model rotation for this Marilyn moment.

[multxfacies]

The way her laugh softened when she teased about his sister made something stir in his chest. “Oh, she was livid,” he admitted with a chuckle, shaking his head. “But, hey, it was worth a shot. And to be fair, my baking game has improved since then. I can even make a mean boxed brownie mix now—microwave fires are a thing of the past..."

The banter felt so easy, so natural, and when Sage finally leaned back and started to answer his question, Sam didn’t expect her to falter. The way her voice shifted, the slight flush on her cheeks, caught him off guard. And then the words came: Her confession hit him like a jolt, and for a moment, his grin slipped, replaced by a look of quiet surprise. He watched as embarrassment quickly overtook her, the way she avoided his gaze, and something in him softened.

“You know,” he said quietly, his voice dipping lower as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze, “I was just supposed to be the fake boyfriend. Charm a few relatives, deflect some awkward questions, and sneak off for a glass of whiskey. Easy gig, right?” His grin returned, soft and laced with warmth. “But then you go and drop something like that on me, and suddenly I’m questioning the job description.” He let out a soft chuckle, glancing down at their joined hands. “For the record, I didn’t sign up for the part where the fake girlfriend keeps surprising me...but...” He took another sip of his whiskey, setting it down carefully before leaning in just slightly.

His tone shifted again, quiet but steady. “You don’t have to say anything else, Sage. But if this fake thing is starting to feel a little… complicated for you, you’re not alone in that.” The humor flickered back into his expression as he added with a smirk, “Just promise me that accountant isn’t still in the picture. I don’t think I can compete with someone that good at math.” He chuckled as he gave her hand another squeeze.

"Stop, please," Sage warned him gaily, rolling her eyes. "I am far from being refined... Honestly when I was growing up, I... felt like I was adopted... struggled so much." She had struggled with both, especially French. How ironic that she picked up Arabic faster than the very language her parents spoke around the house. Sage pursed her lips, snickering at his recount about his high school days. "You know what, I hated that part of biology." She took a sip of the Macallan and sighed. It felt surreal, her whole life - being surrounded with modern luxury, elite status and haughty family members and yet... yet she felt closer to Sam's humble beginnings instead.

Sage leaned against her palm, elbow resting on the top of the sofa as she listened to Sam talk. Damn, she could listen to him recount the most boring stories (not that anything ever was with him) and she wouldn't even want to look away and not listen to his voice. Sage laughed the very moment he mentioned the fire department. "Your sister must have been... fuming..." It was cute... yet endearing as she pictured a younger Sam running around the kitchen trying to impress a girl. Then Sage felt slightly jealous... to this girl he was trying to impress with his non-existent baking skills. It was so silly - she had obviously never met this... girl. Nor did she even know who she was.

Sage had to stifle a laugh out loud moment at his words, "I did date an accountant and you knew that!" Sage interjected, giggling ad she hit the top of his right arm playfully. She narrowed her eyes at Sam, her blue hues still glimmering with mischief. "All right, all right... Something you don't know about me..." Sage paused for a moment before taking another sip of the ridiculously expensive whiskey. She contemplated on telling him her stupid teenage secrets but... Perhaps it was liquid courage swirling around her veins, or perhaps the whole evening of him charming everyone's pants off (hers included) has finally got to her. With her lips against the rim of the glass, Sage's cheek flushed as she spoke. "I've been nursing the biggest crush on you since we met at the hospital." Embarrassment immediately washed over her, threatening to pull her towards the edge and Sage regretted saying it out loud. She suddenly felt like a budding teenager, confessing her undying love towards Brendan Fraser. When she finally sobered up, Sage could barely look at the man in front of her.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 118 (The Calm Before)

Life continued for Heather and Conrad after their eventful trip to the city. Conrad couldn't be the one to canvas his old apartment building in San Myshuno, but he made arrangements with his partner, Detective Spangler, before he, Heather, and Ash had even returned to Brindleton Bay.

He believed they would find Ximena there, but they had to be discreet, and his team worked with San Myshuno PD to watch the Arts Quarter and confirm their suspicions.

They felt life at home might soon return to normal, so Heather started to think about that wedding and kept up her workouts. Spring would come soon enough, and she'd be able to go for jogs with Gord once the weather warmed, too. Gord couldn't wait for that, either.

Conrad would be able to turn his focus to Rafa and George Brindleton without the threat of Ximena breathing down their necks. While officers worked behind the scenes, the Nesbitt-Gordon household buzzed with contentment.

With the family always happy to see him, River paid a visit to talk with Hazel about her break up. Heather wanted to help, but she had to admit to herself that she was disappointed in Hazel for cheating.

Only 'Old Man River' could find the right words to express disappointment without a hint of judgment, and when he walked into the bedroom, Heather got up to make herself scarce.

River glanced at his younger sister with concern. He could see she was beating herself up and wanted to hear her side of things.

"Why didn't you leave your wife before you called Suri again?"

"I think a part of me wanted to hurt Nicola for how she treated me," admitted Hazel. "I know how terrible that is, but she made me dread coming home some nights, and we kept talking about trying to make it work, but we never did. She was too high maintenance and trying to meet her needs was costing my sanity. I think, more than anything, I was just mad at her, but I feel sick about how much I hurt her. I left town, but she's stuck there trying not to hear everyone whispering about her."

"I wouldn't worry about Nic," River said. "I ran into her mother at the Crumpleclones' flower stall yesterday. She took a sabbatical from the school and Mike's class will have a substitute teacher until she's back. If she comes back. I guess she's going on a show called Dating Deanna that starts filming in Tartosa soon."

Hazel reeled. "Nicola?! On a dating show? Does she know they usually put contestants through their paces and people...people cheat?"

"Maybe she thought her usual ways weren't really working for her anymore."

Hazel considered this with a nod. It was suddenly all too clear why he'd come to see her. "I hope Nic finds someone who makes her happy."

"And is Suri a rebound? Or are you really interested in her?"

"I don't know. I really like her and we have more in common than Nic and I did." Hazel shrugged. "I hope it's real, but we're giving each other space right now, after everything fell apart so publicly."

"That might not be the worst idea, but don't punish yourself and miss out on something that might be really good. You made a mistake and you have to learn from it; it's really that simple, but you're not a horrible person." River offered his little sister a hug, and Hazel accepted it willingly. "Maybe one day you and Nic can get closure for the way everything broke down, but you're on different journeys now, and you both have a chance to find happiness and really discover who you are. That's what really matters."

"Thanks, big bro. I know I'd deserve it if you were all mad at me."

He shook his head with a warm smile. "No you wouldn't. You didn't do anything to us. Just Nic. Maybe Suri, if you dragged her into this for nothing."

He stayed for dinner before heading home, leaving Heather dancing to the aerobics channel on his way out.

Lavender loved to be outside, and if her mom focused too long on her exercising, she'd usually sneak outside with her coat on to play around in the snow. One evening, she found a snowman Ash had built and promptly destroyed it - much to Ash's chagrin.

"I worked hard on that snowman!" he cried, pulling a frightening face to try to scare his little sister. Lavender peeled back in surprise.

"I sowwy, Ashy."

Ash scowled, but he couldn't stay mad at her, and immediately pulled her in for an autonomous hug. "It's okay, Lava. Just try not to do it anymore."

"I'll twy."

The next day, Ash invited his friend Arron Kalani over after school, excited to show off his brilliant new invention. "It's a remote control that will melt the snow!"

He pressed a button. Arron glanced outside the sliding patio doors in the living room and frowned at the white powder that had coated the town since the start of winter. "I don't think it works."

"It's solar powered. When the sun returns in the spring it should power up easier."

Arron turned up his nose in confusion. "What's the point of it working in the spring when the snow will be melted already?"

Lavender sat on the couch and giggled happily. "Ashy took ice-chippy!" she tattled.

Arron chuckled as Ash laughed at his oversight. "It's still pretty cool," Arron insisted. "I bet your next model will work better."

Life was always good, but the Nesbitt-Gordons couldn't help but feel as though things had never been better. For once, they weren't afraid to be hopeful. Heather kept working hard at Buttercup Pet Clinic, and Conrad focused on some other cases at work.

He had just finished looking over Officer Adler's notes on the recent Mercury Gratz assault case when the text they'd all been waiting for came in from Detective Spangler.

"We got her, Lieutenant. She was booked at San Myshuno PD first thing this morning." ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

NOTE: Arron is the son of Zoe Patel and Mitchell Kalani, and he has younger twin siblings Isabelle and Xavier.

Thought I'd end the year on a high note with Ximena behind bars! The second batch of year-end favourite screenies comes tomorrow before the story continues on New Year's Day, but the last one could rival any of the last 25, in my opinion.

[seecarrun]

“I see Ash is here,” Violet purred in Misty’s ear as she passed by her with another plate of hors d'oeuvres for the snack table.

Misty flushed, but pointedly schooled her expression into something more aloof. “He is,” she stated matter-of-factly. “He’s a Champion and World Monarch, and perfectly at home at your stupid, pompous, ‘high society’ party.”

Violet smirked. “And that’s, like, the only reason you invited him?”

“He also happens to be my best friend,” she added uselessly as Violet’s grin continued to widen with every excuse. “What?” she finally snapped.

“Oh, nothing,” Violet laughed, waving her off and placing her plate on the table. “Just tell him I’m glad he could make it. If you aren’t too…busy.”

~

Ash was never the biggest fan of these types of events.

In fact, he was fairly certain his publicist was going to faint when she heard he willingly went to a party all on his own without needing to be bribed, but having Misty there definitely made it all at least a little more tolerable.

The Cerulean sisters had gone all out, transforming the gym’s covered aquatic battlefield into a ballroom filled with twinkling lights, lively music, and delicious snacks. Nearly everyone in attendance sported tacky headbands or goofy glasses displaying the new year and a fancy glass of their drink of choice, dressed to the nines for the occasion.

Even Misty had been talked into wearing something elegant, form-fitting, and sparkly, her hair let down and curled ever so slightly at the ends where it barely brushed her shoulders.

Not that Ash paid any attention to that kind of thing or anything. She just looked so different when she looked all girly, was all.

He took a swing from his drink to cool off, feeling his face flush. Obviously he was just warm because of all the people.

Misty came click-clacking back over to him, her own face looking as red as his felt, looking flustered and uncomfortable (though Ash was pretty sure the latter was due to the heels she had been complaining about all night), two freshly filled flutes of bubbly champagne in her hands. She handed one to him, shaking her head at his raised, questioning eyebrow.

“Don’t ask,” she grumbled, as Daisy clinked a glass somewhere across the room.

“Okay, everyone!” she announced. “It’s like, almost midnight!” She pressed a button on a remote, and the Jumbotron above them came to life, showing the dark sky around the grand entrance to the Indigo Plateau. The people around them began to count down.

“10, 9, 8…”

Ash nudged Misty with his elbow, offering her a weak smile, which she thankfully returned, even though it didn’t reach her eyes. She seemed distracted, which considering the circumstances, meant that whatever was weighing on her mind must have been a doozy.

“7, 6, 5…”

He saw her take a deep, shuddering breath, and he frowned at the sight. “You okay?” he asked. She nodded, giving him a strained grin and a dorky thumbs up that did weird things to his heart.

“4, 3, 2, 1!”

Fireworks exploded around the Indigo Plateau as the whole room erupted into cheers.

He met her eyes and smiled. “Happy New Year, Mist,” he told her. She returned his gaze, her eyes wide for just a moment before suddenly hardening in determination.

“Screw it,” she replied, and before he could wrap his head around what was happening, she had grabbed his collar and pulled him towards her, their lips crashing together in an eager and fervent kiss.

It took Ash’s brain a moment to catch up, his whole body suddenly alight and his heart pounding against his chest, but as soon as he was able figure out what was happening, Misty was already pulling away.

“Happy New Year, Ash,” she whispered in his ear, then spun on her heel and disappeared into the crowd.

[miss-sturn]

★彡[ʙᴇɴ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴇᴇᴋ - ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ]彡★

(p2)

Summary: Ben is in love with his best friend's sister. But he can't be with her like that. A/n: I forgot to post this Warnings: Mentions of smoking, Kissing, Light cursing! Just pure fluff :)

♪ I got so high the other night, I swear to God

Felt my feet lift the ground ♪

I wake up in my bed, my head pounding like a drum. Every muscle in my body aches, and I groan, rubbing my face. I feel like shit. It takes me a while to remember what exactly happened last night.

I got so high.

I drag myself out of bed, trying to shake the fog in my head. Sunlight stabs my eyes through the blinds, as I rummage around. I need something—water, coffee, anything—to make this headache go away.

I shuffle into the living room, hoping to find Curtis, maybe a distraction, but then I stop dead in my tracks.

There she is.

She’s lying on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket, her head resting against the armrest, lips slightly pursed as her chest fell and rose in her sleep. She looks so peaceful, so... innocent. My heart skips a beat at the sight of her, and I can’t help but stare.

I lean against the door frame, just watching her. Her hair falls in soft waves around her face, and for a second, I forget everything. I forget about the stupid shit I did last night, forget about Curtis, forget about everything except her.

She’s so damn beautiful, even in her sleep.

I quickly snap out of it, though, feeling the tightness in my chest. What the hell am I doing? I need to stop thinking about her like this. She’s my best friend’s sister.

I stood there like an idiot, my brain short-circuiting. I should’ve kept walking, made myself that coffee, but no. I stayed put, staring at her like a weirdo.

Her hair is covering her face. That thought shouldn’t have mattered, but somehow, it did.

Before I could think twice, I moved closer, my feet barely making a sound. I knelt by the couch, wincing as my knee hit the hardwood.  What am I doing?

My hand hovered near her face, fingers trembling slightly. A strand of hair covered her face, and for some reason, it bugged me. Carefully—probably too carefully—I reached out and brushed it aside.

Her skin was warm under my fingers.

“Okay,” I whispered, barely breathing. “That’s done. That’s—enough.”

I moved to pull away, but she stirred.

I froze, my heart slamming against my ribs as she shifted, mumbling something I couldn’t catch. Her lips parted slightly, and my chest tightened.

Her lips.

I swallowed hard. Was this normal? Did normal people feel like this? My heart was racing like I’d run a marathon, and she was just lying there, completely unaware of the emotional chaos happening two feet from her.

Without thinking, I leaned in a little, just close enough to catch the faintest trace of her perfume. My gaze flicked to her lips again, and I immediately shook my head. Stop. Don’t do this.

And then her eyes opened.

She blinked at me, her face a mix of confusion and - something else I couldn’t place. “...Ben?”

“Morning!” I blurted, way too loud. I scrambled back, smacking my knee on the coffee table in the process. “Ow—uh, sorry, didn’t mean to wake you!”

She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes, the blanket sliding off her shoulders. She stretched lazily, like she had all the time in the world. “What were you doing?” she asked, her voice thick with sleep.

“Nothing!” I said quickly, getting to my feet like the floor had turned into lava. “I mean—uh—I was just…your hair! It was in your face, so I—” I gestured vaguely toward her, feeling my face heat up. “Yeah.”

Her lips curled into a tiny, knowing smile. “Right.”

I retreated to the kitchen, muttering every curse I knew under my breath. My hands shook as I poured myself some coffee, and I nearly burned myself on the mug.

From the living room, her voice carried, teasing. “Thanks for the, uh, hair fix, I guess.”I groaned into my coffee. Great. Just great.

Dinner wasn’t planned.

“Hungry?” I asked, desperate to break the tension and awkwardness that lay between us.

She looked up from her phone, perched on the arm of the couch in one of those oversized sweatshirts that somehow made her look even prettier. She shrugged. “Starving.”

And that was how I ended up in a smart button-up shirt, fumbling with the cuffs while she waited by the door. She was scrolling through restaurant options, her hair still damp from the shower she’d taken after her nap.

We found ourselves at a small Italian restaurant tucked away on a quiet street. Fairy lights dangled from the ceiling, soft music played in the background, and the scent of garlic and fresh bread filled the air.

 She teased me when I fumbled over “gnocchi,” and I made some awful joke about how they should just call it “pasta balls.” Her laugh—it was worth embarrassing myself for.

I barely remembered the food, or anything that came after it. All I could focus on was her. The way her fingers toyed with the edge of her napkin when she was thinking. The way she scrunched her nose when the waiter came back with the wrong drink. The way she talked—like she was letting me into her world one story at a time.

After dinner, the rain started.

It was light, barely more than a drizzle, but enough to make the air smell clean and the streetlights glow. I held the door open for her, and we stood under the awning, staring out at the wet pavement.

“Guess we should call a cab,” I said, glancing at her.

She didn’t answer. She was already stepping into the rain, her face tilted upward, arms spread out like she was greeting the weather.

“You’re gonna get soaked,” I said, shaking my head but unable to stop the smile creeping onto my face.

“It’s just rain,” she said, spinning in slow circles. Then, she turned to me and held out her arm, the corners of her lips curling into a challenge.

She held out a hand, waiting for me to join her. And like the fool I am, I did.

The cold drops of rain hit like tiny shocks, but she didn’t flinch. She spun out from me, her hand still in mine, her laughter mixing with the sound of rain hitting the pavement. It wasn’t graceful or practiced—it was wild and carefree, and for once, I let myself match her energy.

She twirled back to me, her hands finding my shoulders as if they belonged there, and then we were moving together in a clumsy sort of rhythm. The rain was relentless, plastering her hair to her face and soaking us both through, but she was radiant, her smile brighter than any starless night deserved.

“You’re really bad at this,” she teased, her voice warm and teasing as we swayed.

“Hey,” I shot back with mock indignation, “you dragged me into this.”

“Yeah,” she said, grinning. “And you don’t regret it.”

She was right. I didn’t.

She stepped closer, her arms wrapping around my neck now, and suddenly the world felt smaller—just her and me in the rain. I rested my hands at her waist, tentative at first, but when she didn’t pull away, I held her like I couldn’t imagine letting go.

We moved slower now, the chaotic twirling replaced by something softer, deeper. The rain poured around us, blurring the streetlights into hazy golden orbs. She hummed softly under her breath, a tune I didn’t recognize but felt like I’d always known.

“I don’t think I’ve ever done this before,” I admitted, my voice quieter now.

“Danced in the rain?” she asked, tilting her head back to look at me, her eyes searching mine.

“Yeah. Or, like… felt this.”

Her smile softened, and her fingers brushed the back of my neck, sending a shiver through me that had nothing to do with the rain. “Me neither.”

For a moment, we just looked at each other. I could see the raindrops clinging to her lashes, the way her lips parted slightly like she had more to say but wasn’t sure how to say it. Her hands slid down to my chest, resting there as if testing the steadiness of my heartbeat.

And then she spoke, her voice barely a whisper. “I remember everything.”

I froze, unsure if she meant what I thought she did. “From the pub?”

She nodded, her gaze never leaving mine. “Everything you did. Even though I was drunk, I remembered. I remember the way you looked at me, like I was worth something more than just that night.”

“I think about it more than I probably should,” she added, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

Her words left me frozen, torn between speaking and staying silent. My throat tightened. “You are,” I said, the words coming out hoarse. “You always were.”

She smiled, a small, vulnerable thing that made my heart ache. “I didn’t believe it then. But I do now.”

The rain seemed to quiet around us, like the world was holding its breath. Her fingers curled into the fabric of my shirt as she leaned in closer. Her lips brushed mine softly, hesitantly, like she was asking a question only I could answer.

I answered by kissing her back.

It wasn’t rushed or desperate—it was slow, deliberate, filled with all the things I couldn’t say out loud. Her hands slid up to my jaw, and I held her tighter, anchoring myself to this moment, to her.

Her lips were impossibly soft, like the petals of a rose brushing against mine, warm and tender. They tasted faintly sweet, leaving me dizzy with every gentle press. Her hands slid up to my face, fingertips tracing my jaw with a feather-light touch, like she was memorizing every line and curve. The way her thumb brushed my cheek sent a warmth coursing through me, grounding me and setting me alight all at once. I couldn’t help but melt into her touch, into the way her presence consumed every thought in my mind.

Without thinking, I let my hand travel up her back, fingers grazing the base of her neck and tangling softly in her hair. She moaned softly, a quiet, breathless sound that sent a jolt straight through me. I knew right then I’d do anything to hear it again, to make her feel this good. My heart pounded as her lips pressed harder against mine, and I knew in that moment I’d do anything to hear that sound again, to keep her in this perfect state of bliss. 

Pleasing her felt like the only thing that mattered.

When we finally pulled back, she rested her forehead against mine, her breath mingling with mine in the cool night air. “Told you dancing in the rain wasn’t so bad,” she said softly, her lips curling into a smile.

I chuckled, my thumb brushing a raindrop from her cheek. “I think I like it better with you.”

She laughed, her eyes shining like the rain wasn’t falling at all. “Good. Because I’m not done dancing yet.”

And just like that, we were swaying again, wrapped up in each other, the rain, and a night that suddenly felt like forever.

♪ Nothing feels better than this ♪

Taglist: @lolastrniolo @sturniololuv08 @chrislilcumslvt @lonleyheartsclub @shadowthesim

A/n: Let me know if you guys have any ideas for me!!

[haze-of-hyperfixations]

thanks for the tag!! :)

Last song: currently listening to I Can't Help But Wonder from epic the musical!

Favorite color: green <3

Last book: i technically started reading How To Keep House While Drowning several weeks ago? ironically, my executive dysfunction is preventing me from reading the book that was recommended to help me with the executive dysfunction.

Last movie: saw Moana 2 with my family the other day! it was pretty good, i liked it a lot! :)

Last TV show: last show i watched all the way through was Parallels (2022). last show i saw an episode of was a few minutes ago when my sister was watching Stuck in the Middle and i came into the room to eat an omelet and watch the episode with her.

Sweet/savory/spicy: spicy!

Relationship status: aro in a qpr <3

Last game i played: i tried to help my little brother beat a level of Rayman Legends yesterday. (i failed, but so did everyone else who tried. our dad eventually showed up and beat the level.)

Last thing googled: "how to spell omelet". i was messaging a friend about an omelet i made yesterday (not the one mentioned in the tv show question, different omelet.) and i couldn't remember whether it was "omelet" or "omelette". apparently it's a regional spelling difference.

Current obsession: rotating my ocs in my head currently. i love them. <3

Things i'm looking forward to: for the near future: might get to see my queerplatonic boyfriend next week! i also got invited to visit a cat cafe! and for the more distant future: looking forward to moving out eventually! oh, and i'm looking forward to seeing the third sonic movie at some point! :)

tagging (no pressure): @ashclouds366 @ven10 @bodyofstars :)

Get to Know You Better Challenge

First of all, I’d like to thank @introvertedfangrl for tagging me and taking my tag challenge virginity 😂🖤 this post shall be dedicated to you!

Last song: Moonlight / Kali Uchis (luv her sm)

Favorite color: black and purple

Last book: can I say something embarrassing? I haven’t read an actual novel since I graduated. Oops. But I would eventually like to buy and read some horror novels!

Last movie: Piece by Piece, the Pharrell Williams Lego movie at the theater (bf’s choice, but I still enjoyed it! lol)

Last tv show: I recently finished Bridgerton and have been watching Great British Bake-off since then. I don’t really watch a lot of tv shows honestly, I will more often end up on youtube watching playthroughs, cooking videos, and other random stuff

Sweet/savory/spicy: my sweet tooth is out of control honestly. I have something sweet like every day. And sweet/savory is often my favorite combination. I have like zero tolerance for spicy 😭

Relationship status: happily dating my best friend for 6 years, known each other 10 years now. we’re basically high school sweethearts except that we met through an online game and never dated long distance.

Last video game played: Veilguard, of course. I’ve started my second playthrough and I am severely in love my second Rook. btw @introvertedfangrl his name is actually Kalais I misspelled it when you asked me before 😭

Last thing I googled: literally “why is flanking in Veilguard so hard” LMAO and my explanation for that is: my second rook is a rogue, and while it’s not that different from the dagger/orb mage combo, I’m just generally struggling with it more. The rogue’s “mana” is stacked from successfully attacking without taking damage, but if you take damage, it depletes some of the charge you just built up. What makes this more annoying, for me personally, is I suck at blocking. Dodging is fine, but sometimes I end up out of range to attack. It’s also really annoying that enemies will aggro on Rook much more often than they will aggro on a companion. I’m consistently ending up with 2 or 3 enemies aggro’d on me and I’m trying so hard to dodge and get in a single attack and will go almost whole fights with only getting one ability off. I spent half of a fight just trying to get behind an enemy, for flanking, but it feels impossible lol. They’re spinning just as fast me!! okay rant over lol

Current obsession: dragon age in general, but paying special attention to Cullen and Dorian bc they’re my comfort ship

Looking forward to: I have plans for getting my car fully paid off so my bf and I can get our own place again. just trying to manifest a happy and peaceful future for us haha

I challenge @reiconcorpse @cullenssweatyballsakk and @littleraeofsunshineda and anyone else who might see this and have fun 😇

[girlatrocity]

i saw a post of yours talking about your himiko lore and i need to know what you think. btw i love the art of the folded picture with himiko ❤️

THANK YOU ♥️ I'm really proud of how that one turned out!!

Okay, I have no other outlet for this stuff so I'm gonna put literally everything here ty for being curious u will regret it ♥️

so here's her happy, happy family :D I wanted to give her two younger sisters bc I think of Himiko as the first born. The first sister (who I'm thinking of naming Mariko) is about 13 in the present timeline and the youngest (Chiyo?) is about 8.

Mariko is kinda supposed to be the perfect daughter (in comparison to Himiko). Her mom was already pregnant w her by the time Himiko got her quirk, which had the parents scared that they'd bring another "thing" like Himiko into the world. But once Mariko got her quirk and showed no signs of abnormality, they were 1. relieved and 2. very ready to have another child now that they knew Himiko was just a "fluke"

Okay so to talk about her parents a little, while they are both for sure terrible, I think the few good experiences she had w them were w her mom when she was very young.

The mom has A Lot of Issues. She had a very perfect picture in her head of what she wanted her family to be like and when she first had Himiko she was very happy and would dress her up and do her hair and stuff, but after she got her quirk, she felt a lot of guilt and shame and would subsequently avoid her daughter like the plague.

She would pay a lot of mind to make sure her children looked cute and neat and overtime it became very obvious that she didn't pay that same attention to Himiko at all anymore 😶

(btw, I think Himiko associates the hairstyle her mom would put on her as a toddler with being loved and free which is why she wears it after becoming a villain)

Both the parents are ALL about presentation. They don't care so much about having a nice family so much as looking like a nice family. (All of this ended up creating a whole idea in Himiko's head about appearances).

Mariko, the middle daughter, was very aware of why her parents dissociated from her sister because they never tried to hide the horror they felt towards their first born. Her parents were kind of hard on her to be a normal lovely daughter (not like Himiko). Mari resented Himiko for that a little but also never spoke to her either (partly bc she had been made to feel afraid of her). I imagine if they ever did have any meaningful interaction it probably ended terribly and soured their already estranged relationship.

Mariko actually holds a lot more resentment for Himiko after she becomes a villain bc this ended in the parents uprooting their lives, changing their names, arguing, and generally being much more awful. So, in her head, Himiko is responsible for everything bad that ever happened to her ( SHE'S 13 SHE'LL LEARN EVENTUALLY).

Now Chiyo, the youngest, was never really fully aware of the situation with Himiko. She just knew her parents and sister were very wary of Himiko for some reason? When she was a baby, Chiyo was probably especially distanced from Himiko as they thought she'd hurt her. Chiyo and Mariko probably have a normal sister relationship (Chiyo's annoying, Mari's nagging, they're good).

Once she got a little older though (and her parents became more busy with Mari) Himiko may have helped Chiyo w schoolwork or other things once in a while. So in Chiyo's head Himiko is her Weird but Kinda Nice Eldest Sister.

After everything went down, nobody ever bothered to explain it to Chiyo and refused to answer her many questions so the poor girl is probably currently very confused why they have new names and why her eldest sister vanished and why she's now a "monster" and a "villain". She was only five when it happened.

I imagine her family isn't on Himiko's mind as much as how they made her feel is. She was an alienated daughter and avoided sister and that's kinda what I use to explain some of her behavior in canon (being very clingy and touchy as well as taking on a little sister dynamic w the league as she never learned to be an older one) But she doesn't really think about how they're doing until probably late in canon.

Honestly, I think if she ever reunited with them it would just end up in a lot of blaming and belittling and self righteousness and also apathy 😓

I THINK THAT'S ALL THANK YOU IF YOU READ LITERALLY ANY OF THIS ♥️♥️♥️

[shidoukanae]

TME PMV frame thingie WIP

I absolutely adore Helene and Lyla's relationship in both iterations of TME's story and i NEED more qpt gal relationships like theirs is i s2g

it's really, REALLY hard to get me sincerely invested in relationships between female characters but damn am i invested in this one.

Something about a do-good heroine who is abnormally hostile only towards her own half-sister for seemingly no reason (read: "no reason") is a dynamic i can't get enough and seeing Lyla constantly make efforts in both the manhwa/LN to reach out to her is so bittersweet and yet amazingly well done

(and i can't praise enough how amazing Helene is handled as a deeply flawed female character!!! She's genuinely the best written female character ive seen and i wish more gals were written as amazing as she is TwT)