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adore-laur · 10 months

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YOU MAKE IT FEEL LIKE CHRISTMAS

— a holiday addition to the dadrry universe 🎄

❅ ❅ ❅

Red wine is an elixir of reminiscence.

As twilight fades into dusk, you let the velvety Cabernet Sauvignon warm your bloodstream and bring forth memories of the festive seasons gone by. Childhood recollections of sneaking down the hallway before sunrise, captivated by the magical scene made by the plump man who somehow slid down the chimney. Wrapping presents galore while sitting by the twinkling evergreen, the stacks piling higher and higher each year. Baking desserts and listening to Christmas music, the scent of gingerbread mingling with the seaside air. All those moments were nostalgia happening in real-time, engulfing you until they unraveled like a ribbon box of wistfulness.

You're lost in a blissful reverie while watching Harry swiftly round the kitchen island. He's eating the last half of a frosted cookie and untucking his black henley from his sweatpants.

"You've gone quiet on me," he says while chewing, his fist raised to his mouth.

Your vision breaks away from him and refocuses on the entrancing flames in the fireplace. "Just thinking."

"'Bout what?" he asks, reclaiming his glass of wine that he abandoned on the mantle shelf.

"How this will be our eighth Christmas together."

He whistles in a decrescendo and sits next to you. "Really? How are you not sick of me yet?"

"Trust me, you push the limit sometimes."

"Only because I love you."

You roll your eyes affectionately, then say, "I was also thinking about how emotional I'll be tomorrow."

Harry smiles as he begins soothingly rubbing your back. "You always get emotional on Christmas."

At the mere thought of it, you flatten your lips and look at him miserably. The childlike wonder you'll get to witness is nothing to shed tears over, yet you can't help but know you'll feel the pitiful pull on your maternal heartstrings.

"I'm a mess," you say defeatedly.

"No, no, no. Come here and give me a hug." He instinctively reaches for your hand and tugs you toward him. "Bring it in."

You clumsily situate yourself in his lap and curl into his warm body. Your muscles relax, but the tears still spill over. It's irrevocable.

"Why are you crying?" Harry croons, propping his chin on your head and swaying you consolingly. "Hmm? You break my heart when you cry."

Sniffling, you bury your face into his chest and mumble, "She's growing up too fast."

His throat bobs. "I know. It hurts me too."

"But it hurts, like, deep in my soul. Sometimes I physically feel the ache when I look at her."

"She's three." The featherlight touch of his fingertips trails up and down your spine. "That's still young, yeah? And don't forget, we've got a new little baby."

"She's our firstborn, though," you say mournfully, staring at him. You remember exactly what it felt like to hold her for the first time. She changed everything for us. It feels like it was just yesterday when we brought her home, and now she's walking around and doing things all by herself. Where did the time go?"

"I don't have the answer to that, sweetheart," Harry replies, his eyes darting over your distraught face. "Time goes by too quickly."

"She starts preschool next year." You shake your head in disbelief and gape at him incredulously. "Harry, do you hear me? Preschool."

"I hear you." He looks genuinely concerned as he shifts his legs in order to hold you better, cradling the sides of your head to stop it from shaking. It's smart of him to do so since the wine is making you a bit dizzy. "Hey, I hear you. Always. We'll cry in the car together when we drop her off on her first day, deal? Right now, let's focus on tonight and enjoy Christmas Eve. Let's watch our babies grow one day at a time."

More tears sting your eyes and nose like a thousand tiny bees. "Do you feel it when you look at her?"

His features turn sad, yet a ghost of a smile still appears. "Of course," he whispers. "It's embarrassing the number of times I've teared up just from watching her simply exist."

"You know what always gets me?" you ask thoughtfully. A tender kiss is planted on your forehead as encouragement to continue. "When she brings you seashells. It kills me every time."

The corner of his mouth twitches. "I hope she never stops doing that. It melts my heart."

"She's so sweet. We're raising such a beautiful girl."

"Two beautiful girls."

You pout, feeling overwhelmingly sentimental. "I want to wake them up and snuggle with them."

"Don't," he says with a wary laugh, "or they'll be cranky little devils tomorrow morning."

"I love waking them up, though."

"So do I," he agrees in a way so sincere that it makes you even more emotional. "Although tomorrow we'll be the ones woken up first."

You sigh dreamily. "That's true. I love it when they open their sleepy eyes, and the first thing they see is me. And then they smile."

To provide your children with a sense of happiness, even if they're not fully conscious of it yet, is the greatest gift you could ever possess.

"Being their first smile of the day," Harry says softly, "is what being a parent is all about, you know? Getting to see their faces look more and more like yours each day. Hearing them laugh and holding them in my arms. I always think to myself how fuckin' lucky I am to be their dad."

Letting a teardrop fall, you finally succumb to the wine-drunk dramatics. "They love you so much."

It's his turn for his eyes to sparkle with tears. "They're my girls. My best friends."

"You are everything to them. The way they look at you and listen to every word you speak is so amazing. I can't think of anything quite like it."

Tracing the pad of his thumb across your cheekbone, Harry says, "They have my favorite parts of your face. When they smile, their eyes shape and light up the same way yours do." He hums thoughtfully and dances his gaze around your features. "Got their mom's nose, too."

You wipe your tears and take a sip of wine, letting him continue admiring you like a work of art in the Louvre. You do the same to him, obsessed with how the light from the flames flickers over his skin. Your lucky stars are definitely out tonight.

"I want you to get gray hair," you blurt, not even realizing what you said until Harry retracts his head with a bewildered expression.

"I beg your pardon?" he asks through a shocked laugh, reaching for his wine glass. "I'm only thirty-two! Good grief, woman."

Shrugging, you imagine the inevitable physical change. Maybe the one curly strand of hair that always falls over his forehead will start to lighten into an ash color. Or perhaps it'll start with his stubble turning a salt and pepper two-tone. Either way, you know you'll be all over him when it happens.

"It'd be hot, just saying."

"You're a dirty liar," he murmurs around the rim of his glass, his voice slightly muffled.

"A dad I'd like to fuck is what you are. Sue me."

Harry smirks gradually, his lips stained with a delectable shade of scarlet. "What," he enunciates slowly, "has gotten into you tonight?"

"Nothing," you say coyly. "You're just really attractive when you drink wine."

His pupils appear darker and more dilated as he intensely stares at you. His cheeks are tinted with a flush due to the alcohol. Whenever they draw up in a smile, his dimples emerge, and he's genuinely never looked more kissable. Because his mouth... oh, his mouth.

When Harry sets his wine down and finally lingers it near your ear, his berry-scented breath sending shivers across your entire body, you're his entirely. He then speaks in a drawl that makes you tighten your legs around his waist. "I think this wine has gone from here"—he hovers his fingers over your stomach and then trails them up to your temple, tapping twice—"to here."

You swallow a noise of desperation. "I want you to kiss me."

Nipping your earlobe, he asks, "Where, baby?"

"Your choice."

"Sure about that?"

"Yes. Don't test my patience."

He doesn't say anything and promptly lays you down on your back, the carpet providing cushioning as your husband hovers over you with his hands placed on either side of your dizzy head. The room spins, but all you focus on is him.

He takes his time and leaves slow, practiced kisses on your lips, coaxing them open with his wine-flavored tongue. It's as clear as day that he's never lost his temptation. If anything, it's grown now that he knows how to get specific reactions out of you. If he nudges his nose against yours, you'll take control of his mouth. If he reaches for your ankle, you'll spread your legs further apart. If he walks his fingers down your inner thigh, well, you won't hesitate to flip positions.

Eight years with him prove he knows every instinct of your body like no one else does.

"Harry, we can't," you say when he starts rocking his hips. "I'm not cleared yet."

He stops and groans against your shoulder. "Fuck."

The doctor hasn't given you the green light to have sex again since giving birth a month ago. If you're being completely honest, you're almost dreading when it'll finally happen because of how it felt after having your first child. It wasn't pleasurable, it didn't last long, and you weren't feeling the best about your postpartum appearance. Harry had been gracious and attentive, but, for lack of better words, it sucked.

"Did I ruin the moment?" you ask, your skin prickly with embarrassment.

"No," Harry breathes out. "Hell no. Look at you, baby. I'm unbelievably hard right now."

"Should we... can we—"

"We can just do foreplay if that's what you're asking. It's completely up to you."

Your tipsy brain thinks of one thing and one thing only. "Thigh."

His eyebrows twitch as he licks the corner of his mouth. "Hmm? You're mumbling."

"Thigh," you utter again.

"My what? I can't hear you over the fire."

"Harry," you grit out impatiently. "You know what I'm saying. Please, before the mood is actually ruined."

"You wanna ride it?" he asks for confirmation.

"Yes. Now shut up."

"We have to be quiet, darling."

"I can be quiet. Can you be quiet?"

"With you on my lap? Probably not."

Looking up at the ceiling and taking a calming breath, you say, "This is so risky. I hate you."

Harry tuts. "Why do you hate me?"

"Because you're so..." you trail off, searching for the right word. "So alluring all the time. And I can't help myself when you look at me like you do. It's aggravating."

"Personally, I think it's just your hormones talking." He jerks a thumb over his shoulder. "The baby monitor is on the couch, love, so don't worry. We'll make this nice and quick."

"Fine. Okay."

He stretches his legs out while you position yourself over his thigh. Your underwear is already damp as you begin slowly grinding over the thick muscle. He's hard under his sweatpants—a sight you've missed seeing and being able to do something about it. His hands latch onto your waist to guide your movements, and he moans as his whole body shudders from the first sexually intimate contact he's had with you in a month.

"Someone's got an appetite tonight," he says proudly. "It's okay, so do I. But we gotta be quiet."

A salacious thrill runs down your spine because of his determination to get you off. As you use his thigh and grip his shoulders, the fire beside you heats your already ignited body. He searches for your lips, his skin glowing, eyebrows pinched with pleasure. His broad chest provides support as you lean into him, feeling the pulse of your forthcoming orgasm grow stronger. You need it desperately. You're attempting to keep any noises from escaping, but it's been so insufferably long since you've felt him this way. Moans, whimpers, and panted breaths unabashedly break loose.

"Look at me," Harry says lowly. "What did I say? Do I need to cover your mouth?"

"You're making noise too! Don't—"

His large palm covers the lower half of your face, cutting off your sentence. "What did I say?" he repeats.

You roll your eyes and continue circling your hips over him to offer some relief. "I'm almost there," you mumble against his hand. "I'm close."

"I'm so gone for you," he murmurs, removing his hand and kissing your neck. "You're something else, do you know that? Gonna make a mess on my lap?"

You whine into his mouth. "Yeah. Do the thing."

Harry purposefully flexes his thigh muscle, the movement putting heavenly pressure on your clit. It does the trick, and you come as he stifles your moans so no innocent ears hear, his own groans muffled as you kiss through the climax.

"I missed doing this with you," you whisper, grinding against him one last time.

"I know." He grunts, his body stilling. "I know, honey."

"And I love you. You're so good to me and our family."

"We're perfect together, aren't we?"

"So fucking perfect," you say as your eyes flutter shut. Every breath you take is heavy, and your lungs fill with pure contentment.

"Let's get you cleaned up." He hooks your legs around his waist, and his elbow accidentally knocks over his wine glass. Dark red liquid pools on the hearth, the dying fire reflecting off it. "Shit. Goddamnit."

"Harry," you groan as he clumsily untangles himself from you and jogs to the kitchen.

❅ ❅ ❅

Your eyes shoot open when a startling noise resounds in the pitch-black bedroom. It doesn't register until your mind slowly fades into consciousness and you realize it's Harry's ringtone.

The bedside clock displays 5:39 a.m. It's Christmas morning. Who in the world is calling so early?

You remain still until Harry is eventually woken up by it. The mattress creaks as he stands and takes his phone to the master bathroom. You turn the bedside lamp on, and after five minutes of incoherent mumbling coming through the cracked door, he shuffles out with a crease between his eyebrows.

"Who was that?" you ask sleepily while stretching your legs under the covers.

Harry silently paces before saying, "My boss."

You yawn and rub your bleary eyes, then lean against the headboard. "Wishing you a Merry Christmas? That's nice of him."

"No," he replies in his husky morning voice, blankly staring at the wall behind you. "He, uh... he asked me if I could come to work today."

Silence pierces the atmosphere for several seconds before you finally ask, "What?"

"Three people have called out already."

You whip your head toward the clock. "It's not even six yet."

"Tell me about it," he says with zero emotion. I don't even know what to say. I told him I'd call him back once I've woken up a bit more."

Harry is most prone to being grumpy in the mornings. You hate that he's in a sour mood before the sun has even risen.

"Just tell him you're not going to. We'll get jumped on in less than an hour to open presents."

He runs a heavy hand down his face, stopping it under his lips. "It would only be for the first half of the day. I can make it back home for presents in the afternoon."

"What are you talking about?" Either he's sleepwalking, or he's gone mad. Maybe you're having a bad dream. "Christmas is an all-day thing, Harry. It always has been."

He struggles with words before saying, "My work relies on me. I need you to understand that."

Now you're wide awake with irritation. "Are you joking? You're on paternity leave. Never in a million years would I have thought you'd put work before your family."

The first nerve is struck, and it's written all over Harry's face.

"That's such a fuckin' low blow, and you know it," he says angrily. "I have always, always put our family first."

"You're sure as hell not doing it now!" You throw your arms out to the side and get out of bed.

"You're starting an argument on Christmas? Really?"

"Yeah, I am," you reply pettily.

Harry towers over you with a clenched jaw, pointing at his chest. "I demoted myself so I could be with my family more."

"Oh, don't you dare pull that card on me."

"I'm not pulling a card on you! I'm defending myself for crying out loud!"

"Lower your voice," you hiss at him. "Our daughter doesn't need to be more upset than she already will be when she finds out her dad isn't home on Christmas morning."

You struck below the belt, and now he's wounded.

Harry's stoic expression crumbles into one of devastation, his shoulders sagging with undeniable hurt. "Can you just listen to me?" His tone wavers with emotion. You immediately lower your defenses and swallow down guilt. "Please," he adds quietly. "I hate arguing with you. I hate it so much."

"I'm sorry," you choke out, hiding your face in your palms. "I didn't mean it."

Strong arms wrap around you, his hands spreading on your back. "I know you didn't mean it. We both need to calm down, okay? Can we sit?"

You nod and mumble, "Sure."

He lowers you to the floor and says, "Let's just talk this through. Tell me we're okay. Tell me it's just holiday stress getting to us."

Your head starts to pound from how deep your eyebrows plunge. "Why are you speaking like that? We're fine."

Harry's tired eyes bore into yours. "Because we're saying hurtful things, and the thought of losing you is unbearable."

"You're not losing me. I'm allowed to be frustrated."

"Then please let me know what's going on in your mind. I always have to remind you to talk to me; otherwise, nothing gets resolved."

"I already told you," you say while playing with the knotted string on his pajama pants. "I don't like how you're considering going to work instead of being here. That hurts my feelings."

Harry kisses your face and murmurs, "I'm sorry, love. It's early, and I'm in a weird headspace. It's all that damn wine we drank last night."

"Do you have a headache?"

"A brutal one."

You rub your temples. "Same here."

"Listen," he says, "I'm halfway through my paternity leave, so I think a part of me feels guilty for refusing to go in, considering I haven't worked the past month."

"I get that, but can you understand where I'm coming from?" you ask, still being showered with his tender morning kisses. "Any other day, I'd be fine with it, but it's our baby's first Christmas. Look me in the eye and tell me you'd seriously rather be at work preparing food for rich people who need to dine out for the holidays."

"You know I'd rather be here. I always want to be here with you guys."

"Then call your boss and say you're not coming in. You can't always be a yes-man. Otherwise, you'll get walked over."

"Am I really a yes-man?"

"Sometimes."

He slumps against you. "I don't want you to think I don't fight for our family."

You frown. "I don't think that. I will never forget when you demoted yourself. Yes, I was furious when you first told me, but then I realized how important it is for you to be present and bond with your children."

"I'll call my boss and tell him no." He hugs you and gives you a sweet smile. "Only if you promise you're not mad at me."

"I'm not mad," you say, fondly pinching his cheek. "Now get your butt up and bring me some Advil."

He gestures a salute. "Yes, ma'am."

❅ ❅ ❅

You're woken up again, this time by a slight pressure on your legs and two little hands shaking your shoulders.

"Santa came! Mama, Santa came!"

"Shh, shh, shh." You hush her lisped voice as you open your eyes. It takes a minute to become aware of your surroundings, and you eventually see Harry passed out on the bed by your feet, wrapped in his white robe and lying on his back as he sleeps. After your talk, he took a shower to clear his head, and he must have fallen asleep again.

"Can you wait until I get your sister up?" you whisper. "Then you can jump on Dad."

She nods, her messy curls bouncing every which way. You quietly get up and wander down the hallway toward the nursery. Surprisingly, your baby girl only cried twice throughout the night.

Once her diaper is changed and she's dressed in a festive onesie, you return to the bedroom with her cradled in your arms. You're greeted with a barely awake Harry, who is trying to tame the wild beast. Playful growls, followed by shrieking laughter, echo off the walls. You could've guessed that she wouldn't listen.

His eyes instantly soften when he sees you holding his new favorite person. "Why is your little nose all red?" he says to her. "You look like Rudolph."

You pass her over before sitting on the edge of the bed. "She loves untucking her arms from the swaddle at night, so she gets cold. She's an escape artist."

"A cute escape artist," he says, looking down at his girl. "Look how cute you are. I'm gonna eat your cheeks. I'm gonna do it!" He pretends to munch on her chubby cheeks until her happy noises fill the room.

After thirty minutes of warm snuggles in bed and letting the sunrise peek through the curtains, everyone eventually gathers in the living room to start the day. Harry, now in a much better mood, immediately goes into full dad mode so that everything runs smoothly and no one is crabby on Christmas.

"What can I make my lovely wife for breakfast?" he asks, dressed in jeans and a red knitted sweater.

"French toast and eggs, please," you answer, feeding the baby in your lap a bottle. She has a little Santa hat on. "Can you grab me the burp cloth?"

"Got it." He turns to his daughter, who's watching cartoons on TV. "Lovebug. Come here for a second."

She gallops over to him, and he swoops her up to set her on his hip. "Hi," she says.

"Hi, sweetheart," he says while fixing her loose socks. "Dad needs your breakfast order."

"Reindeer pancake!"

"And?"

"Juice!"

"And?"

She hums, thinking long and hard. "Cookie!"

"Uh-oh." Harry gasps, looking at her with wide eyes. "Haven't you heard? Santa ate all the cookies!"

Her face drops. "Why?"

"We left them out for him, remember?"

"But… but why?"

"Because that's the spirit of Christmas." He kisses her cheek and then sets her down. "Go organize the presents while I make breakfast, okay? No peeking. Behave."

Once the family has full bellies and excited smiles, it's time to open presents. Everyone has their respective piles stacked in front of their feet, some from under the tree, some from the four stockings hanging on the mantle. It's crazy to think there used to only be two there.

"Who's going first?" Harry asks with a steaming mug of tea in his hands. He sits beside you on the couch and carefully slides the portable bassinet closer. Her Christmas plans include getting milk drunk and sleeping all day.

"Me!" says your daughter, crawling into his lap.

"All right. Pick a good one, little lady."

She chooses a rectangular box from the top of her stack. "That's one you need to open with your dad," you tell her. "Harry, open yours that has the same wrapping paper."

He grabs an identical-looking present and helps tear open both boxes. After pulling out the tissue paper, he picks up a pair of white aprons, one big and one small, with ladybugs stitched to the fronts. You tried and failed to find ones that said lovebug, but you figured the sentiment would be appreciated.

"A ladybug!"

You take a candid picture of her with your phone. "I know, baby. You and Dad can match when you cook together."

Harry squeezes your shoulder and whispers, "Thank you."

It's your turn next, and you choose a gift from Harry. You open a small box that contains a gift card to a local spa establishment.

"You deserve a day without me or the kids," he says softly. "I'm forcing you to not be a mom for a day."

You look at him while holding the card to your chest. "Thank you so much."

"Word on the street is that they give better massages than I do."

"Well, they've got some tough competition."

Harry laughs and kisses your cheek, then picks out a gift you've been waiting for weeks to give him. He didn't ask for it, but you like to surprise him. He unwraps it with a giddy smile, eventually pulling out two picture frames crafted from an assortment of seashells.

"I made them using the shells she's brought you over the years," you explain. "I hope you don't mind."

Harry runs a hand over his mouth as his eyes dance over the two pictures. One of them is from when his baby girl was born a mere month ago—the two of you sat in the birthing tub with him staring at you with a breathtaking smile after she clung to him. The other picture is from the day his first daughter was born—him sitting in the hospital bed while holding her with his forehead resting against hers, his hands almost taking up her entire body.

"That's you, lovebug," he says to her while pointing at the picture. "Look at how tiny you were. You changed my life that day and made me the happiest person in the whole wide world."

"Me?" she asks curiously.

He taps her nose. "Mm-hmm. And look at you now. All grown up."

"Do I still make you the happiest in the whole wide world?"

"Every single day. We're each other's first smiles forever, right?"

She nods delightedly. "Yeah."

Harry hugs her tightly and then glances over at you, doing a double-take when you bring your knees to your chest and inhale deeply. "Are you going to cry?" he teases with a smirk.

"No," you reply unconvincingly, clearing your throat and not-so-subtly wiping the corners of your eyes. "Okay, who's next?"

After a bunch more presents are unwrapped and toys and sparkly bows are scattered on the carpet, there's only one box under the tree with no name.

Harry crawls over and grabs it. "This," he says theatrically while standing, "is for all of us. Let's have mommy do the honors."

The box is set in your lap, and Harry stands before you, bending forward to place his hands on your thighs.

"You're way too close to me right now," you tell him.

He glances up at you through his eyelashes. "I need to gauge your reaction."

You roll your eyes and begin tearing the tape on the box's seal. Once you open it, your heart skips a beat when you see four plane tickets sitting on a bed of sand.

"Surprise," he whispers.

Mouth agape, you take them out and flip them over to read the tags attached.

Your tag reads: For my wife. Italy the first time made us fall in love all over again. Let's do it a second time.

Your eldest daughter's tag reads: For my lovebug. I'll buy you all the raspberry gelato and ciabatta bread you want. I'll even throw a lasso around the Italian moon for you to keep.

Your newborn's tag reads: For my baby girl. I'll show you the sea that emulates your beauty. You'll show me how lucky I am to hold and love you.

In all your years of knowing him, you don't think he's ever done something more romantic than the scrawly ink attached to a gift from a memory so dear to him.

"We're seriously going back to Italy?"

He crouches and squeezes your thigh. "End of July."

Your daughter doesn't quite understand the significance of what's happening since she was small when the family last went, but she's smiling as she absentmindedly sifts her hands through the sand.

You lean forward and give Harry a hug. "You're so perfect. Thank you. I can't wait."

"You're welcome. Come with me for a second," he murmurs in your ear. He heads to the kitchen and quickly dumps the rest of his cold tea into the sink.

You follow him into the bathroom, leaving the door slightly cracked. Harry flicks on the light and then stands in front of you. "You," he emphasizes while cradling your cheeks, "are the fuckin' love of my life."

You accept his fervent kisses and mumble against his mouth, "Did you like the seashells?"

"Are you kidding?" He kisses you once more. "I almost lost my composure out there."

"See? I'm not the only one who gets emotional."

"I love you so much," he says, soft and sincere. "This will be the best trip of our lives."

You admire his bright eyes and dimpled smile. "I'm so glad you stayed home. You make it feel like Christmas."

❅ ❅ ❅

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #dad!harry #dilfrry #dadrry #harry styles #adore-laur #you make it feel like christmas

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softestqueeen · 9 months

Text

under the mistletoe

pairing: bruce banner x afab!reader

summary: After a kiss under the mistletoe, you can’t deny the tension between you and your infamous crush Bruce Banner.

warnings: 18+ MDNI!! smut, p in v sex, riding, kissing, breeding, no protection (please in real life wrap it gurl, I’m begging you), mutual pining, fluff, tension

wordcount: 2714 words

a/n: Merry belated Christmas! I wanted to write this earlier but didn’t have enough time. Still, enjoy <3

You were standing in one of the doorways at stark tower, slightly secluded from the rest of the party, talking to you good friend and lab partner Bruce Banner. What you didn’t tell anyone though, was that he wasn’t just a friend to you, but so much more.

To say you had a crush on the shy doctor was putting it lightly.

He was leaning against the doorway, and you were standing just inches from him, the loud christmas music making it harder to understand him. You were holding a martini, while the man in front of you only held a can of coke, scared of losing control under the influence.

You were just about to ask him a question when a certain billionaire appeared next to you.

“I see your having a good time! Oh, and see who is standing under the mistletoe...”, Tony Stark almost sang the word mistletoe with a big smile on his face.

You tilted your head back and looked up, noticing that there was in fact a mistletoe hanging above your heads. Well, that was embarrassing.

You averted your eyes from the leaves hanging above you and turned your attention back to Bruce, who looked just as shocked and unsure as you.

Tonys smile grew even more before he added, “Have fun, you two lovebirds.” And with these words he let the two of you be, only glancing behind him at the two of you to see if you’re kissing or not.

“We don’t have to kiss if you don’t want to.”, you told Bruce with honesty, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. And you were scared that if you kissed him once, you wouldn’t get him out of your head.

“Oh, no it’s alright with me. Only if you want to of course.”, he rushed out the last part.

You were already standing pretty close to each other, so after a short eye contact, you both leaned forward and kissed.

Surprisingly, Bruce had very soft lips and kissed you firmly, with a certain purpose. Even though (to your disappointment) the kiss was short lived, you could tell he was a good kisser. When the two of you pulled away, you just looked into each others’ eyes for a moment.

But of course, the moment couldn’t be perfect, because you could hear Tony whistling even over the noise of the party.

You rolled your eyes and to your surprise, even Bruce had to chuckle a bit.

You continued to talk a bit, but shortly after Natasha interrupted the two of you and whisked you away. She took you to the kitchen, where the music was not as loud, and you could have a normal conversation.

Though you knew that this conversation as not going to be normal.

Natasha looked like a little kid on christmas when she asked you “Did you just kiss Bruce?” The redhead – who was also your best friend – of course knew about your feelings for the doctor and was desperate to hear all the details.

“Yes, I did.”, you answered giddily before adding “It didn’t mean anything though, we were standing under the mistletoe. We didn’t actually notice before Tony pointed it out.”

“Tony, the matchmaker. How was the kiss?”, she asked you cheekily. You already knew that question was going to come up. You couldn’t help the blush that was about to cover your cheeks.

“It felt great, he definitely knew what he was doing. I still don’t think he feels the same.”, you told her.

Nat just looked at you like you were completely stupid. For her it was clear that that man was head over heels in love with you.

Shortly after Nat pulled you away, Tony joined Bruce with an almost boyish smile on his face.

“You kissed her!”, he told Bruce in a singsongy voice while wiggling his eyebrows.

Bruce just rolled his eyes at the billionaire. “Yes, I did. But only because you practically forced her to kiss me. I don’t feel like she really wanted it. Afterwards she didn’t seem as involved in the conversation anymore. Do you think I overstepped?”

Now it was Tonys turn to roll his eyes. “You know why she was detached from the conversation?”, Bruce only shook his head “Because she is in love with you, dumbass. And she has been for quite some time, so get it together and ask her out or something. The only people who don’t know about your feelings for each other are you two for some reason.”

“Are you really sure?”, Bruce asked one more time. Tony didn’t answer him, just looked at him with a pointed look and walked away.

The two of you had not spoken since the mistletoe incident, but there was definitely a hell of a tension between the two of you. Because even though you didn’t talk to each other, the two of you made eye contact multiple times.

Every time your eyes searched for his, he was already looking at you. At first, he always averted his gaze as fast as he could. But suddenly you could feel a shift. He now held your gaze for a few moments before looked away, making you slightly nervous. What was that shift supposed to mean?

The evening continued with stolen glances and conversations you couldn’t follow, while Nat and Tony sent each other knowing glances.

They’ve been trying to set you and Bruce up for months now, but to no avail. The two of you – even though you had an impressive number of PhDs together – just didn’t realise the other one reciprocated the feelings. Was tonight the night where you finally realised it?

The crowd was slowly starting to thin out, a lot of the guests going home or retreating to their rooms. Most of the Avengers were still hanging around talking, and a few famous actresses and singers were also still there.

You decided to call it a night and bid Nat good night. You went out into the hallway to your room, but when you were about to put your key into the look you heard a familiar voice calling for you.

You pushed the key into the lock before you turned around to see non other than Bruce coming your way with hurried steps. When he was within earshot he asked, “Can we please talk? I need to tell you something.” Your heart skipped a beat. What did he want to say to you? Was it because of the kiss? Even though you were a bit scared of what he would confess, you asked him in.

“Yea, of course. Come in.” Bruce gave you a curt nod and waited patiently for you to open the door and wave him in. You told him to make himself comfortable and he sat down in a chair.

“Is it alright if I get changed before we talk? My heels are killing me”, you asked sheepishly.

“Of course, go on.”, he answered immediately.

You went to your wardrobe and pulled out an oversized sweater and a pair of plait boxer shorts, before disappearing into the bathroom.

While you were in the bathroom Bruces thoughts were running wild. How was he supposed to tell you that he loved you? That that kiss was not just a kiss for him? That he wanted to do more than give you a quick peck. How was he supposed to confess this?

On the other side of the door, you were not doing any better. What did he want to discuss and why was he so nervous? You thought you could talk about everything. You wanted him to know that. Even though your mind was still racing, you tried to calm yourself down and go back into the living space of your small apartment.

Bruce was silent when you entered and you sat down on the couch next to the armchair he was occupying. You looked at him with a shy smile and told him, “Now we can talk. What’s on your mind?”

Bruce was playing with his hands while he was thinking. You noticed it and scooted closer to the arm of the couch. You reached forward, took his hands in yours and shot him a (hopefully) comforting smile.

“You know, you can talk to me about everything. Sometimes it’s good to just let it all out and not overthink it too much.”, you assured him, hoping it would help him to talk about whatever was on his mind.

He seemed hesitant but then suddenly started talking. “I love you. I have- I have loved you almost since the first time I ever saw you. When you came into my lab looking so criminally good and you were so sweet to me. And I’ve had feelings for you ever since and they only have intensified since then. I’ve never had the courage to tell you and honestly, I’m not too sure about myself right now, either. But after you kissed me, it was like something switched inside of me. I knew I had to have you, no matter what. That kiss was better than anything I ever imagined. And you looked so good in your dress, but I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or force you, you know. And the other guy, you know, also started to like you and – you’ve probably noticed this at our last missions – he gets so calm around you and then I also feel so safe and-“, all of that came out of him like a wave, crashing down over you. You couldn’t believe it, Bruce Banner actually had feelings for you.

“Sorry, I’m rambling. But essentially, I just wanted you to know that I love you and that I could never love someone the way I love you. I just needed you to know that.” He finished his little speech and was about to stand up, but you still held onto his hands, holding him in place. Of course, you were shocked but not unpleasantly so. You felt the same way.

You leaned forward over the armrest and kissed him, hoping you could put all of the words you couldn’t voice into this kiss, so he would understand that you felt just the same.

Bruce didn’t waste any time and immediately kissed you back, letting go of your hands to cup your face and pull you closer to him. You pulled away and got up, leaving Bruce with a puzzled expression.

He quickly relaxed again when you straddled his lap, took his face into your hands and kissed him again. His calloused hands went to your waist and squeezed it, before he let them wander over your body. His hands on your body felt amazing and when you felt his rough hands against your soft skin as he wandered underneath your sweatshirt, you let out a moan, giving Bruce the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

He kissed you so well, it made you even more excited for what was to come next.

Now having you in his arms felt like a fever dream to Bruce. He would have never thought it possible for you to feel the same as he did.

Both of you had to pull away for a quick breather.

“Do you want to go further, Bruce?”, you asked him, even though you had a pretty good idea of what he would answer.

“Please.”, was the only answer you received before he pulled you in again and joined your lips with his. You could feel his growing erection between you and rocked down on him, making the man beneath you groan.

“Do you want to go to bed?”, you asked him and put your forehead against his, giving him some time to think. But apparently, he didn’t need any.

“No, I can’t wait any longer.”, he answered without skipping a beat. You got up to pull down your shorts and, in the meantime, he opened up his belt and pulled his trousers down to his mid thigh, just wide enough to release his cock.

When you caught sight of him, you couldn’t do anything but stare. He was long and thick, with a slight curve, already leaking from the bright red tip. He was definitely going to be the biggest one you ever had. You didn’t waste anymore time and straddled him again.

You gave his lips a quick peck before you pulled away again to sink down on his cock. You were so wet just from this make out session, still you were sure that this would not be too comfortable.

You took his cock into your hand and gave him a few pumps, coating his cock with his precum. Bruce threw back his head and let out a deep grown.

You stopped stroking him and guided his tip to your entrance. When Bruces cock made contact with your wetness, his head shot back, and he looked at your hand that was guiding him inside of you.

He let out another moan when you started to sink down on him. You pulled away to put steady yourself by putting your hands on his shoulders. The stretch was uncomfortable, but you could already feel the pleasure taking over. With every inch you thought he couldn’t go any deeper and ever time you sank further down on him.

Finally, your ass touched his thighs, and you were completely seated on him. He filled you like you didn’t know was possible. You were both moaning and groaning and by the time he was filling you completely you feel a slight sweat coating your skin. You removed your hands from Bruce’s shoulders for a moment to pull your sweatshirt over your head, leaving you completely naked. Bruce was still fully clothed, only his jacket sat discarded on the floor.

While you were still getting used to the stretch, you started to unbutton Bruce’s shirt and took it off. Your hands roamed his torso and he let out a soft moan as your hands made contact with his chest.

You leaned forward and kissed him again and started to slowly move up and down on him. You put your hands back on his shoulders and Bruce pulled you closer by the waist, so your fronts where touching. The new sensation added to the pleasure, and you started to increase your speed. You were going up and down his thick shaft, his fat tip hitting your g-spot perfectly. You moaned and groaned in each others’ mouths and were clingy to each other, slowly rocking to your orgasms.

You could feel that you were coming closer and by the way Bruces cock was twitching inside you, he wasn’t far either.

“Please, Bruce, cum inside of me. I need to feel you.”, he didn’t answer you, he only nodded and started to fuck into you, meeting your thrusts. You stilled and he took over, drilling his cock into you from beneath you and chasing his release.

“Cum for me and I’ll fill you up. Need to feel you squeezing me with that tight little pussy.” His words tipped you over the edge and you came with a shout, burying your head in his neck, trying to get your breathing under control.

Feeling you spasm around him, made Bruce see stars. He filled you with thick roped of his cum, painting your walls white. He halted inside of you and pulled you onto lap again, holding you down while he filled you up.

He circled his hands around your waist, while you slung yours around his shoulders. For a moment you were just holding each other, bathing in the bliss of finally being together.

After a while Bruce picked you up and laid you on the bed. He went to the bathroom and came back with a washcloth to clean you up. He undressed and joined you under the covers, immediately taking you in his arms and holding you again. He was laying on his back and you had your head on his chest, your arms slang over his torso. Never before had you felt this content.

“Oh, and by the way, Bruce. I love you too. Merry Christmas.”, were your last words, before you finally drifted off into a deep slumber.

a/n: i hope you liked this, if so please leave some notes, likes, reblogs and comments! feedback is very appreciated!

please also consider supporting my ao3: @ softestqueen

taglist: @silvermagnolias @milywatermelon @BigBananaa

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be-an-echo · 10 months

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under the mistletoe

#tooth rotting fluff #happy holiday season guys or whatever it is #it's been snowing like crazy here so here's something to warm u up #anyway this is december in jackson #that big ass tree almost didn't fit through the door but joel's real handy #what tess didnt notice was the mistletoe he smuggled in his bag #when she comes to the living room with box full of christmas lights the mistletoe is already hanging from the ceiling #she smiles at him cuz what is she suppose to do with this man and his romantic ways #tessjoel #tess servopoulos #joel miller #joel x tess #joel tlou #tess tlou #tess lives #this feels like linda ronstadt kinda vibe #long long time is playing somewhere in the background #mhmmm #okay im done

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buckera · 10 months

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Inspiration Saturday 🎄

Aaand this would be the aforementioned second christmas fic; the rough draft is already done and it's just over 2k so I expect it to total out somewhere around 3-4k. Anyway, please enjoy this tiny snippet:

Buck sat in the waiting room, his eyes vacantly following the line of fairy lights running under the edge of the reception desk. They flickered every now and again.

Well, not just every now and again, but every thirteen seconds. Buck counted it out 67 times already.

He just started again, but he only got to six when he heard the voice he was waiting to hear for nearly 15 minutes now.

tags under the cut 💛

I was tagged by the lovely @daffi-990 @thewolvesof1998 @watchyourbuck @disasterbuckdiaz @giddyupbuck thank you my dears and for all the bunch of people tagging me for FIF too mwuah 💛

✨no pressure tagging: @malewifediaz @spagheddiediaz @jesuisici33 @jeeyuns @ladydorian05 @steadfastsaturnsrings @eowon @heartshapedvows @nmcggg @rainbow-nerdss @jamespearce9-1-1 @evanbegins @eddiebabygirldiaz @theotherbuckley

#there is no fluff without angst #the ski fic being the fluff lmao this one will be a little less cheerful though it has its moments and happy ending ofc!!#the ski fic is already at 5k btw and I'm only hoping that it won't go over 8k #there's also a possible third christmas fic that I don't think will be done on time but we'll see #also I feel so incredibly bad for neglecting the mudslide fic #which has been sitting at 40k the past month cuz I was busy writing everything else under the sun lmao #ANYWAY #I'm just rambling about word counts cuz I'm trying to motivate myself #buddie #911 #wip #the hospital fic

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thescarletwriter-414 · 2 years

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A little nugget for Christmas

A post Christmas Christmas fic

Summery: You have one last present to give steve for Christmas, and it’s a pretty big one.

Word Count - 600

Warnings: pregnancy, Christmas? A lot of fluff. If I forgot something lmk.

You and Steve had just gotten home from your annual found family christmas party. You loved watching him interact with the kids, even though they’re not exactly kids anymore, his face still lit up everytime he saw them.

You both hung up your coats and took your shoes off. “Baby I’m gonna change real quick okay.” Steve tells you, ready to relax with you and enjoy the last hour or two of Christmas left with his love.

“Wait, before you do I have one more present to give you.” You ran into the kitchen, opening the fridge looking for the box you had hid in there earlier that day.

You walk back into the living room seeing Steve sitting on the couch. “What could you possibly have gotten me that you had to put in the fridge?” he laughs.

You sit on the couch next to him smiling ear to ear. You give him the box, your hands noticeably shaking. You knew he was gonna be happy, Steve told you he wanted kids on your first date, but you were still nervous. “Just open it.”

He ripped off the wrapping paper and bursted out laughing seeing the box of chicken nuggets. “I love chicken nuggets baby, but I wasn't exactly expecting you to get me some for christmas.” rolling your eyes at him you reply “There’s more just open the box.”

He smiles at you and opens the box at first only seeing the nuggets but once the lid is completely pulled back the smile drops from his face and his eyes widen. There was a black and white picture of a little blob, it didn’t even look like a baby yet.

He turned to face you, opening his mouth but nothing came out. You grabbed his hand that wasn’t holding the box. “We’re going in to have our own little nugget.” You smile at him. “Seriously?” he asks, tears brimming in his eyes. You nod and smile. He drops the box and practically attacks you with a hug.

“Oh my god.” You could hear him sniffling and you felt your own tears well up in your eyes. You knew he was going to be happy but actually seeing how excited he was for your little baby filled your heart with so much joy and love.

“We’re having a baby.” he says in amazement. Then pulls back abruptly. “Sorry, did I hurt you or the baby?” He looked so worried. Now it was your turn to laugh at him. “No love, we're fine.” he still looked a little nervous. “I just got so excited I couldn’t help myself.”

He saw the box on the floor with nuggets flown everywhere around it. He picked it up so carefully like it was made of glass, and he took the ultrasound picture off of the lid. You noticed his face saddened seeing the grease from the nuggets got onto the ultrasound picture. “I got another copy love, don’t worry.” he smiled at you “Good. But I don’t think one is going to be enough, we need at least a dozen more to show everyone." God, you loved this man so much. “Well, we’ll just have to make more copies.” you say then kiss him.

You leaned back on the couch and Steve put the ultrasound picture on the coffee table then scooted closer to you pulling up your shirt and kissing you belly. “Hey there little nugget, I’m so excited to meet you.” you ran your hands through his hair as he continued talking to the baby that was probably smaller than an actual nugget at the moment.

“I love you.” you tell him with the biggest smile plastered on your face. “I love you too.” he smiled back then kissed your belly again “And I love you too my little nugget.”

You couldn’t wait to see what next Christmas is going to look like.

#sorry I went MIA #I’m still in the Christmas feels and didn’t want to wait a year to post this #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #st #steve harrington #x reader #steve Harrington x reader pregnant #pregnant #pregnancy #fluff #christmas #steve harrington imagine #fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #christmas fluff

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gemaesteria · 10 months

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Podfic: Because of a Whipped Cream Mustache [TGCF, FengQing]

Written by: doordaash

Art by: Nan

Summary:

Feng Xin for the love of all things joyful and merry, would not meet his goddamn eyes! It was…weird! They had been dating well over 3 years now, had known each other for nearly their entire lives, and yet Feng Xin was avoiding his eyes as if they were mere strangers! He was speaking to everyone but Mu Qing!

What made it worse, is finding him and fucking Shi Qingxuan whispering to each other while everyone ate, as the two were sitting next to one other - because Feng Xin hadn’t even SAT NEXT to Mu Qing! Shi Qingxuan giggled at whatever the fuck Feng Xin had whispered, covering their mouth with their hand before clapping excitedly.

or: some cheesy holiday kiss kiss fall in love BS for da soul <;33

🎧 Listen here 🎧

Sound on for the teaser below!

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pastafossa · 2 years

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Hi Pasta!! I have a question 🙃 What do you think Matt and Jane got each other for Christmas? I cant stop thinking about it. They’re so cute 🥹

BEHOLD. Like 1.1k so rest is behind a see more, but this was in my drafts for what their gifts would be. I didn't have time to get the whole scene done with everything, but I figured this would do!

It didn’t take long for Matt to make use of some of his Christmas gifts, and you found yourself standing by the couch less than an hour later, staring down in amusement at the happy, melted puddle that was Matt Murdock beneath the glow of a Christmas tree.

He’d burrowed down into his new hoodie, his eyes closed and his nose tucked down into the velvet-soft alpaca wool that lined the inside—some of the softest wool you’d been able to find, and something you’d searched long and hard for. Wrapped around the rest of him was a rich, red alpaca wool blanket, thick and warm and equally soft. You had a feeling that, under the blanket, he’d likely also slipped into his new fleece-lined sweats and fleecy socks, ninety-five percent of his body now cradled in soothing, warm comfort.

“So is that a yes on those?” you said softly, relieved now that it was obvious you’d chosen right when it came to this. It had been… a while, since you’d given anything for Christmas, much less given a gift to someone who meant as much to you as Matt did. Soft had seemed a good road to take, and you’d spent ages hunting for something that he’d be able to wear even when his senses ramped up to the point of pain. “Soft enough?”

A quiet sigh, almost a moan, was his response, followed by a glutted “Mhm,” before he lazily lifted his arms out from under the blanket, opening them to you. You quickly took up the invitation, climbing into his lap and letting him wind his arms around you. You dropped your head against his shoulder, reaching over to run your palm across the velvet-soft fabric covering his chest. His reaction was instant, arching up into your hand as he purred and melted further into the couch at the sensation of the fabric sliding on his skin, his head lolling back when you nuzzled in past the collar of the hoodie so you could press your lips gently to his pulse. Briefly, you passed over the new necklace chain he wore, the little braille pendant reading ‘Always Loved’ hidden somewhere beneath the fabric, its color a match for the key around your neck. That, at least, you knew was a success, but the rest...

“You really do like the clothes, don’t you?” you asked him, relaxing a little, curling your fingers to scratch a little as you ran them up and down his chest. “I had a good feeling on the necklace, but for these… I wasn’t sure.” “Why not?” he asked sleepily, fumbling one hand up until he could slip it up under the back of your shirt, palming the line of your spine like you were stroking his chest. You weren’t surprised; he always tried to reciprocate, or maybe he just... liked having an excuse to touch you back. “These are probably the softest things I own now. They’re perfect. They feel amazing.”

“I was worried it was too… I don’t know. Impersonal.” You drummed your fingers a little against his chest, tucking your legs up until you were more comfortable. “But you shouldn’t have to wear things that hurt on your bad days, or at all really, so I-I guess I just—”

“The hoodie smells like you,” he murmured, tipping his head to lay it atop yours. You went quiet, still and unmoving as he continued, “I can tell that you wore it for me a little after washing it, and that it made you happy to do it, because your scent’s different when you’re happy and when you love someone. And every time I move, nothing scratches. Nothing hurts. All of these feel soft and gentle, like how you touch me when I’m bleeding, and when I need you most.” His chest expanded and then dipped on a contented sigh, and then he reached up, brushing his thumb over your cheek, his thumb coming away wet. His voice dropped to something even softer, low and tender. “So much of my life is pain, sweetheart. How could the way you touch me, the way you want to take away some of that pain from me, be impersonal?”

You wound yourself a little tighter around him, hiding your face against his neck as you let out a shaky breath, and he pulled you in tighter with a soothing noise. You’d been so… so terrified you’d fuck this up, that you’d do this wrong after so many years of dodging it, of being alone, of being forced to avoid anything like a holiday, anything like friends or love. The idea that you’d gotten it right on your first try…

And you weren’t the only one.

You leaned away from him just far enough to pick up one of the two photo frames on the coffee table where it had been set atop a massive pile of books you’d wanted to read for years, years in which you’d been forced to pass them by, story by story, cover by cover until Matt hunted down those stories and placed them back into your hands. You laid back against his chest again after you’d brushed your fingers fondly over the books, and instead, you focused once more on the photo inside the elegant black frame.

Foggy had taken it at Josie’s at some point—a candid of you and Matt crammed into a booth, his arm draped around your shoulders as you leaned into him, a bright grin on his face, your head tipped back as you laughed at something he’d said. The warmth in your eyes and his smile was obvious as you stared fondly up at him beneath the dull glow of the bar, at the very same table Foggy had once worked at to ensure your friendship with Matt was mended. There was no disguising what this was. And…

“I can’t believe I can put this on my desk now,” you whispered, tracing your fingers over the frame.

And you didn’t… have to disguise it, did you? There was no need to hide, not anymore. You could have his picture on your desk, could hold his hand as he walked you home, could kiss him when he came to see you at your office or you at his or when you were both out in the rain. And he could do the same with the second picture, one destined for his own desk, all so that he could proudly gesture towards it whenever you came up.

A… a real life.

He lifted one arm and you sniffled, crawling back around to wrap your arms around him in return, burying your face against his neck as he held you close. Held you here at home—a home for you both, for your tree, for your books, for an actual life, lived fully and completely and wholly for the first time.

“I love you, so much,” he whispered. "Merry Christmas."

“Love you, too. Merry Christmas.”

There was no bigger gift he could give you.

#the red thread #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x f!reader #daredevil x reader #daredevil #matt murdock #reader #fic #ficlet #fanfic #x reader #fluff #christmas fluff #basically the two of them trying to give each other what they feel might mean most to the *other person*#jane looks for something that will help him hurt less and something that will remind him that he's cared for and ALWAYS loved #even when the dark voices say otherwise #and even when those voices (THAT SOUND LIKE FUCKING STICK) tell him he doesn't deserve the soft things that make his skin hurt less #now he'll be able to argue back 'she gave it to me because she loves me' and sort of circumvent it by latching onto #'she gave it to me so it's only right that i use it and i don't have to feel bad or weak'#and he gets her things she's missed out on while on the run #books she's always wanted to read along with a picture she can finally put on her desk to publicly say 'yes he's mine and i love him'#and he can do the same #there's also a very large stuffed penguin that matt put one of his shirts on so she can hold it while he's gone if she has a panic attack #but didn't really have time for that so prob just gonna work that into TRT

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sunflowerromcom · 11 months

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A Wonderful Life a Tedbecca Christmas AU

“There were only a few moments in her life Rebecca could remember with great detail, like a scene in a movie she was watching in slow motion. The day Ted asked her to marry him, the day her daughter was born, and this…

She would always remember seeing the headlights first. As the car rounded the curve, they were a blur of light in the winter darkness. Her breath caught in her chest. There was no time for the fear she’d been expecting to seize her. No time to shout Keeley’s name. No time to slam on her breaks. She could only watch in horror during the passing seconds it took for the other car to slide hopelessly closer and closer… because there was nowhere to go.”

#ted lasso #rebecca welton #tedbecca #fanfiction #tedbecca fanfic #Christmas AU #fluff #romance #family feels #amnesia

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cambria-writes · 2 years

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happy holidays! this is arguably a little late but i’ve had a rough go of it these past few days so i only just finished this tonight lol. Ii insist that i’m not late because we’re still in 2022 and the new year hasn’t hit yet!

anyways this is just a relatively short fluffy feel-good thing because i wanted to feel warm and fuzzy. so it’s absolutely self-indulgent.

word count: 3,229 warnings: swearing, it’s christmas eve and that’s important so that should probably be a warning, no y/n, no mention of gender but ravenloft reader is AFAB, minor ravenloft spoilers if you squint

for reference, this scene (with a bonus crown) is what the reader would’ve drawn.

and for the record, since it was mentioned on ao3, i'm very well aware it shouldn't have been a perception check! ravenloft!reader was never written with the intention of making them a tabletop rpg wiz, they just know enough to get by and follow along if they're sitting in on a game.

𝕽𝖔𝖑𝖑 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝕻𝖊𝖗𝖈𝖊𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

When the phone rang, you didn’t even greet the speaker. You immediately answered with ‘what do you want you fucking menace’ because there’s really only one person who’d call you near midnight like a heathen.

“What’s your favourite colour?”

You snort and wedge the phone between your chin and shoulder and sit back down at your dining table to keep sketching.

“Dunno. Like, all of them?”

“Dude that’s the epitome of unhelpful,” Eddie deadpans, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Right, well like, is there any context to this? Cause you should know I don’t have a favourite colour,” you reply, frowning and erasing a small portion before swiping the eraser shredding away.

“Come on,” Eddie whines, and you can practically see him throwing his head back in annoyance. “Not even one? Like, something that just always makes you happy when you see it?”

You hum for a second and put your pencil down. “I guess maybe black? I—“

“Nah, nuh uh. Boring as hell.”

“Rude, what—“

“Black’s not even a colour, that’s what you constantly say!”

You scoff and pick your pencil back up, switching the phone to the other shoulder.

“Did you seriously just call me in the middle of the night to bitch at me for not having a preferred perceptible wavelength of light?”

There’s an unusually long silence on the other end of the line. You frown again and pull the handset away and follow the coiled line. Confused but satisfied that it hadn’t somehow gotten unplugged from the cradle on the wall, you wedge it back where it was.

“Ed? You good?”

“Yeah, no. Yeah, sorry, just thinking.”

“Jesus, don’t burn yourself out there bud.”

“Oh fuck off.”

The rest of the phone call is relatively short, and colours aren’t mentioned again by the time you hang up. You don’t go to bed until nearly two in the morning, and by then you’re content with having gotten down the main lines of your portrait.

The snowstorm that rolled in on the 23rd was entirely unexpected but wholly welcomed. You were scheduled to work on the 24th, but with the state of the roads and the fact that nearly half of Hawkins was running off of generators, you were graciously allowed to stay home until the new year. And given that this is your first Christmas in your new home, you were more than happy to hunker down and, ha, weather it out.

You’d had plans, sure; Harrington had already made sure everyone knew to show up at his place on the 24th, your parents had been expecting you on Christmas morning and the rest of the day would have been spent going around to see extended family. And though the thought of not being able to fulfill your annual Christmas traditions did dampen your mood, just thinking about the astronomical amount of energy you’d save made it a bit more palatable.

If the same thing were to happen next year, though, you might cry.

You’d already called Steve to let him know you were staying home. Pleasantly surprised, he’d admitted he’d had a whole speech prepared about how he’s have The Swarm tear you a new one if you even dared thinking about touching your car keys. (Which would have been an effective threat, honestly. You really had no interest in giving Dustin a reason to get uppity at you, and you definitely didn’t want to have to deal with Max’s ire. Girl held grudges like you did trauma.)

Your parents were only slightly less understanding, with your mother trying to insist that your father could come pick you up. A little resistance put that all to rest, though, and with a promise to call on Christmas morning, that was dealt with as well.

You’d just settled down on your couch, swaddled in the fluffy blanket you’d gotten from Eddie the year before, mug of hot chocolate held in both hands for warmth, when the doorbell rang. Confused, you look at the time—just after dinner on Christmas Eve—and sigh before heaving yourself off the couch to buzzer by the door. You hesitate for a second before pressing the button to let the mysterious visitor in. You’re already on your way back to your couch, having assumed it was just a neighbour who’d locked themselves out again, when you hear heavy footsteps outside your door.

You quietly walk back up and carefully lean forward to look through the peephole.

“What the…” you mutter, leaning back, nearly jumping out of your skin when the knocking finally comes. You quickly unlatch the chain and unlock the deadbolt before pulling the door open. “Ed, what the fuck—“

“Merry Christmas,” Eddie blurts out, thrusting a box out at you, though it really sounded more like ‘murr cr’sms’.

“Merry Christmas to you too but Jesus come inside!” You pull Eddie through the door by his arm, quickly shutting the door behind you and getting started patting the snow off of him. “The hell did you do, walk here? You look like a damn yeti!”

“Y-yeah I kind-kind of d-did.”

You pause in your patting before grabbing Eddie’s arm again and turning him around to face you. You ‘reabout to ask if he was serious, but a quick glance at his face—reddened cheeks and nose, frosted lashes, dry lips—tells you he has, in fact, told you the truth.

“Fuck me, okay,” you whisper, before shaking your head and getting a move on. “Stay there and take your boots and coat off and then get your ass on that couch, I’m making you coffee.”

You don’t hear any complaints. And though normally you would’ve been glad for the silence, even perhaps proud to have shut him up, Eddie’s silence is, once again, unsettling. And this time you’re pretty sure it’s not because he’s thinking, and most likely because he’s borderline hypothermic.

You try to be quick; you grab that one pair of sweatpants Eddie leant you when you got splashed by a car outside of the arcade. That one metallica shirt you borrowed one time when one Friday movie night turned into an impromptu sleepover. You make your way back to the living room, where thankfully Eddie’s listened to you, and has made himself at home swaddled in the blanket you’d left on the couch. You throw a quick glance to the front door, where his jacket and boots are slowly leaving a growing puddle of snow water.

You definitely need to get a welcome mat or something if this is going to keep happening.

Your first instinct is to chuck the clothes at Eddie’s head. What you would usually do. But it’s Christmas eve, there’s a god damn storm outside and this maniac walked to your place. For some reason. You feel like you owe him to be nicer than you usually would be. Call it the ghost of Christmas conscience.

“Here,” you say quietly, holding out the sloppily folded shirt and sweats. “You can change in here. I’ll be in the kitchen.”

Eddie mutters a very stuttery thanks and takes the clothes from you. You pause for a second to see what’s on the TV—seems like A Christmas Story is about halfway through—before hastily turning away when you see Ed starting to lift his shirt over his head.

Coffee, right. You said you’d make coffee.

You’re being so normal about this, it’s absolutely fine. You’re totally fine.

By the time you return to the couch in the living room, Eddie’s clothes are exceptionally neatly folded on your coffee table and he’s even more huddled up in your blanket than he had been before. You place his mug of coffee in his waiting hands and have to bite back shocked laughter when, even outstretched, underneath the blanket, he looks like a frozen T-rex.

“Alright,” you huff out when you finally take your seat on the other end of the couch. “You wanna tell me what’s in that box that was so important that you felt you had to walk here in a storm?”

Eddie sputters in his coffee a bit. When he brings the mug back down, he does look a little sheepish.

“Yeah, y’know it sounds pretty stupid when you say it like that.”

You nod and take a sip of your own coffee. “M’hm. That’s cause risking hypothermia to deliver a gift that very well could’ve waited until the storm passed is pretty stupid. No offense.”

Despite your disclaimer and your attempt to sound light about it, Eddie lapses into silence, again.

“Okay, you keep going quiet, is there something—“

“I didn’t want you to be alone.”

You stop yourself, mouth agape. You bring your coffee mug back up to your lips to try and shake off the surprise.

“I—okay. What, uh, what about Wayne?”

Eddie gestures vaguely under the blanket, and you assume he’s waving the issue of. “He’s with the Hendersons.”

“Oh. That’s…”

“Dustin asked me to go. I said no.”

You frown. “In favour of walking though the snow to get to me?”

“Yeah, well,” Eddie starts, but he doesn’t continue until he takes another long sip from the coffee mug. “Walking wasn’t the plan. Van broke down halfway here.”

“Oh thank god,” you sigh, leaning back into the arm of the couch and pulling your legs up and under you. “I literally thought you walked from your place!”

“God, never,” Eddie laughs, pulling his own feet up on the couch to sit cross-legged. “But I was halfway here and there’s no power at the trailer, so.”

You hum and nod, but otherwise keep your silence. And you both stay like that for a few minutes. And while you’re taking the time to try and bring your BPM down to something a nurse might not scream about, Eddie seems to be appreciating the warmth that you’ve thrown at him.

“So,” you say after a while, clearing your throat and putting your mostly empty mug on the coffee table. “What’s in the box?”

Eddie grins and puts his own mug down. The blanket falls away from his shoulders when he reaches toward to grab said box, and he turns it around in his hands before passing it over to you.

“Wait,” you rush to say, just as he opens his mouth. “Shit, wait, I have,” you trail off, and nearly jump over the back of the couch to run to your room. You quickly snatch the gift bag you’d left on your dresser and run back to the living room, nearly tripping over your own feet. You throw yourself back down onto the couch and shove the bag towards Eddie.

“What—“

“Gift for a gift,” you explain shortly, a little out of breath.

Eddie laughs lightly but takes the gift bag from you, and you eagerly snatch the box from his hands. You’re about to start tearing into the tacky Santa-print wrapping paper, but glance up to make sure it’s okay. Eddie chuckles and nods and motions for you to go ahead.

You make quick work of the paper and nearly tear the top off the box before turning it over in your hand and letting its content drop into your palm.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, turning over the giant cut glass piece in your hand. You hold it up to the do lamplight, and it looks like it’s shimmering from the inside. Every which way you turn it, it’s like each facet is a different colour that reveals itself to you with each new angle.

You don’t miss the fact that there are nineteen carefully carved and painted numbers on each face, and the last one has a little flame where the 20 normally would have been.

You look up to thank Eddie, throat a little tight, but you nearly choke on your own tongue when you see his expression.

He’s holding your gifted frame in his hands like it might break if he holds it too tightly. You can’t really understand the expression on his face, and the more time he spends staring unblinkingly at it, the more unsure you feel.

“I, uh, is it… do you not like it?”

Eddie slowly shakes his head before lifting his eyes up to you. He tries to start a few different sentences before clearing his throat.

“Is this—this is really what you see?”

You let your hands fall into your lap and nervously turn the massive D20 around in them and nod.

“Yeah, I mean. The crown might be a bit much,” you chuckle lightly, looking up and away towards the TV. “But yeah. You look really, uh. You look happy, when you’re DMing for the kids. Really cool. Thought you should be able to, I dunno. See it for yourself.”

When you do muster the courage to turn to look back to Eddie, he still has that absolutely confusing look on your face. You lift the heavy dice in one hand and wave it around a bit.

“This is why you asked for my favourite colour, huh?”

Eddie blinks a bit owlishly at first, but laughs and shakes his head. Slowly, carefully, he puts your gifted portrait on top of his folded clothes. Leans forward to pluck the dice from your hand and gently put it down on the coffee table next to your mug.

“Ed, what’s wr—“

You inhale the rest of your question when Eddie reaches out a hand to grab and pull at one of your ankles. You screw your eyes shut when your head meets the couch cushion below your with a soft ‘thump’. And when you open your eyes, Eddie’s hovering over you, hands braced on the couch arm just above your head. You swallow thickly and promptly forget to breathe for a second.

The end credit music for A Christmas Story feels like it’s playing from miles away.

“You good?” Eddie asks, quietly, and all you can do is nod. “You sure?”

“Yeah, uh huh. Fine,” you whisper, holding your hands close to your chest. Close your eyes when he leans in to rest his forehead against yours. “Why did you really come over?” You whisper, hesitantly uncurling a hand to place it on his chest.

“Missed you.”

“You see me almost every day.”

“Worried about you.”

You snort and lightly slap at his chest. “Bullshit. I own more knives than you do guitar picks.”

Eddie exhales sharply before pulling back a bit. When you open your eyes, you almost want to hide from the tenderness you see in his.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you whisper, turning your head to the side to watch the TV turns from black to blue, now that the tape’s over.

“Like what?” Eddie asks, and you can hear the shit-eating grin in his voice when he nuzzles at your neck.

You grunt. “Like, I don’t know. Like you—like…”

“Like you’re the only person I’d drive and walk through a snow storm to see?”

You hum but keep your head resolutely turned away. Shiver when you can feel his lips ghosting against your cheek.

“Like you’re in love with me,” you mutter quietly, screwing your eyes shut.

Eddie slowly peels a hand away from the arm of the couch to turn your head to look at him. You still avert your eyes. He brushes the hair away from your face instead.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” he says, almost whines, tilting his head to try to catch your eyes. “You’re smarter than me, you’re not that dumb.”

You huff and cross your arms and finally look up at Eddie. There was some kind of combative quip on the tip of your tongue but it dies there as soon as the look on his face properly registers.

“You’re not fucking around,” you say frowning.

“I’m not fucking around.” Eddie sighs and moves up to kneel on the couch, both knees boxing in your legs. You move up on your elbows and scoot up a bit to lean your back against the arm of the couch.

“Since when do you—“

“Dude, you literally saved me from a swarm of hell bats, somehow managed to team up with a super powered teenage girl to save the world, still don’t think I’m an absolute coward and show up at my doorstep if I call you when I can’t sleep,” Eddie lists off, starting to wave down at your a bit frantically. “And you actually listen to my shitty garage band music!”

“It’s not shitty!”

“You’re proving my damn point, woman!” Ed shouts, swatting your hand away when you go to slap his chest again. “Merry fucking Christmas, I’m in love with you!”

You let yourself slide back down to lie on the couch and laugh when you throw an arm over your face.

“The fuck, this isn’t funny!” Eddie whines, trying to slap your arms away from your face. “This is serious!”

You choke your laughter down enough to say, “Roll for perception.”

“Excuse me?” Eddie squawks, indignantly, pausing his assault on your arms. You lower them just enough to be able to peek at him.

“You heard me, roll for perception.”

Eddie scoffs but turns to grab the massive dichroic dice from the table and gently rolls it along your carpeted floor.

“Huh. 18. Do I get to add my wisdom modifier to that?”

Though you bring your arms down from your face, you still cover it with your hands.

“You’re the only name and phone number I keep in my address book,” you start quietly, biting down on your lips before continuing. “That portrait of you isn’t the first one I’ve ever bothered trying to do. The photo of us Max took in the hospital is the only one I have framed. I hate cashews.”

“But you keep a tin of cashews in the cupboard on top of the f… fridge…”

You nod and part your fingers to catch a glimpse of Eddie. He sighs before shouting and shaking his head.

“Ed, what the—“

“Why are we so stupid complicated!” He shouts again, but it peters out into laughter. “Jesus, why can’t we just say shit like normal people?”

“We hate normal people,” you deadpan, slowly letting your hands slide down your face. “So, uh,” you start, curling your fingers under your chin. “Merry, uh, Merry fucking Christmas, I lo—I love you too?”

Eddie closes his eyes and tilts his head back to sigh like you’ve just given him a glass of water after spending weeks in the desert.

You move to half sit up on your elbows again.

“Hey, you—“

“Does this mean I can kiss you now and you’re not going to think I’m just doing it because it’s the holidays and there was mistletoe over your door?”

You blink for a second and pull yourself up on the arm of the couch and twist around to look at your door. Huh. Sure as shit, there it is.

“Oh. Mrs H must’ve put that up when she came over,” you say nervously, but when you turn around you’re shocked, both because of the still-freezing hand that comes up to your jaw and the lips that are pressed almost chastely against yours.

“God bless Mrs H,” Eddie whispers, and your laughter is a quick huff before you loop your arms around his neck to pull him down against you for another kiss.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #holiday fic #christmas fi #fluff #no sad feelings here #mentions of el dustin and max #Minor ravenloft spoilers if you squint #ravenloft #Christmas #holidays #christmas eve #roll for perception

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hearts-hunger · 2 years

Text

home for the holidays — chapter one

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

Series Summary: The Cabin Fever gang spends Christmas in Frankenmuth. || Companion series in the Cabin Fever universe

Chapter Summary: You catch an early-morning flight to Frankenmuth to surprise Mama Kiszka on Christmas Eve.

Pairings: Josh Kiszka x Reader, Jake Kiszka x Reader, Sam Kiszka x Danny Wagner | Genre: holiday fluff | Word Count: 3.9k | Chapter Warnings: some ~spicy~ remarks

A/N: Cabin fever besties! I am delighted to share this first chapter of the cabin fever Christmas fic with you. I'm planning to have it all done by Christmas (but you know me, we'll see how that goes), and I'm planning POV's for each couple. I really hope you like it, and merry Christmas! ♡

“Remind me again why I’m up so early?”

Josh chuckled. “This was your idea, sleepyhead. Remember?”

You gave a dramatic sigh and leaned your head on his shoulder, and you were rewarded with a kiss on your forehead. Jake and Sparrow were in front of you in line, in equal degrees of still-waking-up drowsiness, and you could hear Sam and Danny talking and laughing about something behind you. Despite your slight early-morning grumpiness, you smiled; all six of you were on your way home to Frankenmuth for Christmas, and once the coffee kicked in, you’d all be full of excited, festive cheer.

You, Sparrow, and Danny had planned a surprise, last-minute trip to see Mama and Papa Kiszka, and a four a.m. flight on Christmas Eve was the only flight you could get. The boys had been delighted, and though you’d told Kelly so it wouldn’t be a complete surprise to have six people show up on their doorstep first thing in the morning, you had all agreed to keep it a surprise for Karen. You couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when she saw her boys, and the thought of how happy she’d be made everything worth it.

The security check went faster than you thought it would with all the people trying to get home for the holidays, and you were sitting at your gate with a coffee in hand in short order. Danny, Sparrow, and Josh sat on the floor by your feet as the rest of you lounged in the uncomfortable airport seats, the six of you making a tight circle as you woke up together and talked about your plans for the day.

“We have to take Sparrow downtown,” Danny said. “She hasn’t seen the world-famous Frankenmuth Christmas lights.”

Sam scoffed. “Yeah, Sparrow, you haven’t even seen the world-famous Frankenmuth Christmas lights.”

“I have so!” she protested with a laugh. “Just because I went to my grandparents’ for Christmas growing up doesn't mean I never saw the lights downtown.”

Sparrow had been a part of your friend group during high school, but graduation had brought distance until you’d fallen out of touch. You’d been reunited last winter, and you’d all welcomed her back into your friendship, this time as Jake’s girlfriend, with open arms and happy hearts.

“Yeah, but you haven't seen them on Christmas,” Josh said sagely. “You've never seen the singing tree, have you?”

“That sounds fake.”

Jake grinned. “Oh, it’s real, honey. And we’re going.”

You were still planning your outings as you boarded the plane, filing down the narrow aisle to your seats. Since you’d gotten your tickets last minute, you weren’t able to get seats all together; you were split up across different rows, but luckily Sam and Sparrow and the twins were paired together. It would have been too chaotic to trade seats and get the couples paired off, but none of you minded; all of you were close, and your friendship was a natural extension of your individual relationships.

You and Danny found your seats, and there was an older lady already settled in for a nap in the window seat. You were supposed to have the middle seat, but you hesitated.

Danny was putting your suitcase in the overhead bin for you and noticed your hesitation.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

You cast him an uncertain smile. “Sorry, I’m just...” You were feeling a little claustrophobic in the warmth of the cabin and the press of people, and the thought of being in the middle was only making it worse. “It’s a little tight.”

“Oh,” he said. “I’ll take the middle, then.”

“No way,” you protested. “You have freakishly long legs. You should be on the end.”

He laughed. “I don’t mind.” He met your eyes and gave you a sympathetic smile. “Really, kiddo. I’ll sit in the middle.”

Before you could protest again, he’d squeezed his broad frame into the middle seat.

“Thank you,” you said sincerely as you took your seat.

“No problem. As long as you share the candy you brought.”

You laughed and fished the half-eaten bag of gummy worms out of your backpack. “Breakfast of champions, right there.”

You and Danny spent the plane ride intermittently talking and dozing on each other’s shoulders until you landed. It was lightly snowing on the tarmac, and your excitement grew as you reunited with the rest of your friends by the gate.

“Did you survive without me, baby?” Josh asked, slinging his arm over your shoulders as you walked through the airport.

You smiled. “Barely. Did you have a good time with Jake?”

“Sure,” he said with a grin. “We got cocktails.”

“Joshua!” you laughed. “It’s not even six in the morning!”

“Just getting the festivities started,” he said innocently. He kissed your cheek. “I said we should go to that little diner for breakfast.”

“Oh, we should!” you agreed. “I can get that peppermint milkshake I’ve been craving.”

He chuckled. “It’s a little cold for a milkshake, baby.”

“It’s snowing, did you see?”

“I did. It’s a special welcome home present just for you.”

You smiled and pressed closer to him. He knew you were glad to be going back to your hometown; you’d moved to Nashville over the summer, and though it had been a good change, you’d missed Frankenmuth. Going home for the holidays was just what you needed.

When you'd gotten your luggage and your rental car, you all squeezed in for the forty minute drive to town. Danny was driving, the best out of all of you at driving on snowy roads, and the drive seemed to take no time at all as you sang along with the Christmas songs on the radio and pointed out landmarks to each other even though you all knew them by heart.

Though it was still dark out when you got to the diner, you snapped a picture of it with the disposable camera you’d gotten for the trip. It was a tradition to take one with you on road trips, and you’d put the pictures in the “family scrapbook” you all added to when you got home.

Once inside, the six of you piled into a corner booth and ordered coffee. This sleepy little diner had seen many late nights and early mornings with your friend group, and you were glad to be back under the glow of the soft neon lights, comfortably smushed next to the people you loved most.

Josh shared his menu with you. “I bet I know what you’re getting, baby. Besides your peppermint milkshake.”

“Same thing I always get,” you agreed. You ordered the eggs Benedict with hash browns when it was your turn and turned back to the conversation.

“I think we should go ice skating,” Sparrow said, her eyes lighted with excitement.

You smiled. “I think so too. I should warn you, though — your boyfriend hasn’t gotten any better at it since highschool.”

“It’s true,” Jake said ruefully. “But we can just skate very slowly around the Christmas tree in the middle and hope I don't fall.”

She gave a wry smile. “Does that tree sing on Christmas too?”

You laughed. “No, unfortunately. But I think we should start a petition that every tree in town be a singing tree.”

Sam reached over you for the sugar. “But then there would be no gigs for local bands to play during Christmas.”

“Oh, I remember those shows,” Sparrow said. “You guys always looked like you were freezing up there.”

Danny chuckled. “We were,” he agreed. “It was miserable trying to play in the freezing cold.”

Jake gave an incredulous laugh. “At least you only had to play the drums,” he said. “Try playing guitar with no feeling in your fingers.”

“Ah, Jakey,” Josh said with a smug grin. “I recall a few wrong notes at those gigs.”

Jake only smiled at his twin’s affectionate teasing. “Well, Joshy, when I was off you were off, so neither of us was any good.”

“I was always perfect, though,” Sam said, matter-of-fact. Danny laughed and kissed his cheek.

“Of course you were, love.”

Sam turned bashful and gave his boyfriend a smile, knowing Danny had meant the compliment sincerely.

You lingered over your coffee for a long while after the food had been eaten, watching the snow fall outside the window bedecked with Christmas lights. The jukebox played Jackson Browne’s “These Days”, and Jake took Sparrow’s hand.

“Aw, sweetheart, it's our song,” he said with a sappy grin. “And I didn't even put it on, so it must be holiday magic.”

She laughed and ran her thumb over his knuckles. “Maybe it is, honey.”

Sam gave a playful grimace at the display.

“This is a horribly depressing pick for your song,” he said. “Didn’t you two ever listen to the lyrics and think, ‘hey, maybe a song about heartbreak isn’t a great choice’?”

“Come to think of it,” Jake said, “why was this playing at a wedding?”

“They had a lot of weird stuff on their playlist,” Josh said, remembering the wedding of a highschool classmate where you’d been reunited with Sparrow. She and Jake had also taken the opportunity at that wedding to finally confess the crush they’d had on each other since senior year, and you remembered the trip with fondness.

“I wonder how they’re doing,” you mused. None of you had known the bride that well, and you hadn’t bothered to keep up with her after she invited you to her wedding.

“They’re having a baby, I think,” Danny said. “I saw it on Instagram.”

“You follow her on Instagram?” Sparrow asked, surprised.

Danny pinked a little. “Yeah, well, I knew her better than you guys did back at school, and we caught up a little at the wedding.”

Sam smirked. “How well could you have known her at school, Dan?”

Danny’s blush deepened. “I mean... we may have made out once or twice.”

Sam’s eyes widened and the rest of you laughed.

“You never told me that!” Sam protested, amused and surprised but unconcerned about Danny’s long-past relationships. “We went to her wedding and you didn't tell me you two had history?”

“Oh, we did not have history,” Danny scoffed. He softened and gave Sam a sweet smile. “Besides, I didn’t care about anybody else but you at that wedding and you know it.”

Sam gave a pleased grin. “Yeah, I know it.”

“You’re saying you didn’t care about me at that wedding?” Jake asked, playfully affronted. “I’m hurt, Daniel.”

Danny’s smile was equally fond and exasperated. “You were too busy pretending you weren't in love with Sparrow to notice, Jake. Or don't you remember?”

“Oh, I remember,” Jake said, giving Sparrow’s hand an affectionate squeeze.

“Well,” Josh said with a grin, “I remember how much time you and Sam spent pretending you weren't in love, Danny.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” Jake said with a laugh. “You two don't have a leg to stand on.”

“I wasn’t pretending not to be in love,” you reminded him tartly. “Your brother’s just a blockhead who wouldn't know a love confession if it smacked him in the face.”

“Oh, don't exaggerate,” Josh said with a smile. “You didn’t smack me in the face, baby. You kissed me.”

You all laughed.

“That’s worse, Josh,” Danny said. “At least I knew what was going on when Sam kissed me for the first time.”

You enjoyed reminiscing on how you’d all come to be together as you finished your coffee, and when Josh had paid the bill, you hurried through the snow to the car. The ride to the Kiszka house was quick, and you were all alight with excitement as you got ready to surprise Mama K.

You parked a little ways down the gravel driveway, not wanting to give yourselves away until you were all at the door. The six of you tramped through the snow to the cosy farmhouse, huddled into your jackets, Sam and Danny in the lead.

“Are you sure she’ll be okay with all of us staying here?” Sparrow asked, looking to Jake for confirmation. Though she’d said “us,” you knew she was worried that she would be unwelcome, even if she didn’t need to be. Though his parents had been overjoyed to welcome Sparrow into the family, Jake’s last relationship before her had ended badly; you knew from late-night conversations with your friend that she was worried Jake’s parents were still hesitant to trust her with their son's heart.

Jake knew that too, and he smiled and gave her a quick, comforting kiss.

“She’ll be over the moon to see us, sweetheart,” he assured her. “Especially you.”

Sparrow blushed prettily. “Well, I don't know about that.”

Jake chuckled and tugged her close. “Just you wait and see, little Sparrow.”

You held Josh’s hand and gave it an excited squeeze. “Are you happy to be home?”

He smiled, his cheeks rosy with cold. “Yeah. Thanks for planning this, baby.”

“You’re welcome, my love,” you said. “I know your mom’s been missing you, and I hope she’ll be happy that we're all together under one roof for Christmas.”

“I’m sure she will be,” he said. “She might freak out that she doesn’t have enough bedding for everyone, but she’ll be glad we’re here.”

You laughed. “I told your dad we’d help get things in order for all of us to stay,” you said. “We might have to take the pull-out in the basement, though.”

His expressions scrunched. “Aw, why us? I have a perfectly good bed we can sleep in.”

“So does Jake,” you said.

He sighed. “In the same room, I know.” The twins had shared a room growing up; Sam had loved having his own room and not sharing anything, but neither of the twins had minded being with the other. For this trip, you figured Sam and Danny would take Sam’s old room while Jake and Sparrow took the twins’ — you were wise enough to know that certain activities might be difficult if you all attempted to share, as funny as it might be. You and Josh could take Ronnie’s room since she was spending Christmas with her boyfriend, but you hadn’t asked your boyfriend’s opinion on that.

“We could probably stay in Ronnie’s room,” you said.

Josh winced. “Uh, no thank you.”

You smiled. “Why not?”

“I’m not having sex in my sister’s bed. I can't even think about how awful that would be.”

You raised a brow. “Oh, so you think you’re getting lucky this trip, huh?” you teased.

He gave you a knowing smirk. “Nice try, baby. You think I don’t know how you like a little thrill every now and then? You like to get hot for me when you’re not supposed to.”

You blushed vividly. “You think you’re so smart, don't you, Joshua?”

He hummed in agreement and nuzzled a kiss against your cheek. “I’m a genius, but you’re also very predictable on some things. So yes, I do think I’ll get lucky. In fact, I hope and pray I'll get lucky.”

You gave a soft laugh. “I think you'll get lucky, too,” you said in a quiet voice.

He grinned. “Then I guess we’re taking the basement.”

When you reached the front porch, all of you were careful to be quiet as you kicked the slush off your boots and brushed snowflakes off of your jackets. You took turns shushing each other’s excited, quiet laughs as Sam knocked on the door.

Kelly answered, and he beamed at the six of you.

“Your mom’s in the kitchen,” he said. “Go surprise her.”

You all filed in, trying not to sound like a trampling herd, and Kelly hung back and watched you with a fond smile as you made your way to the kitchen.

Karen was stirring a bowl of batter at the island, and whatever she had in the oven smelled delicious. She was so focused on her work that she didn’t notice the group of you in the kitchen doorway, and Jake took a step forward.

“You need any help in here?” he asked.

“No, I’m alright, thank you,” she said without looking to see who’d spoken. “Who was at at the door?”

Jake laughed. “Us, mom.”

She nearly dropped the bowl as she whipped her head up. A delighted, incredulous smile lit her whole face.

“Jake!” she said. “And — and all of you!”

She rushed over to you, and a long moment was spent in hugs and laughter and joyful welcomes.

“You sounded just like your dad,” she told Jake as she hugged his neck. She looked to Josh. “Didn’t he sound just like him?”

Josh laughed. “Yeah, it’s kinda freaky.” He gladly accepted her warm hug and kissed her cheek. “Hi, mama. Merry Christmas.”

She patted his cheek. “Merry Christmas, sweetie. I love you.”

Sam laughed when he hugged her. “Aw, mom, don’t cry. Danny will think you’re not happy to see him.”

“Oh, sweet Danny knows I’m happy to see him any time,” she said. “Don’t you, Danny?”

He smiled and hugged her. “Yes ma’am.”

She embraced you next, and you realized just how much you’d missed the woman you considered another mother.

“I've missed you, Karen,” you said, feeling a knot of emotion in your chest.

She squeezed you tight. “Oh, I've missed you too, honey. I’m so happy you’re here.”

Sparrow hung back, a little shy, but Karen didn’t hesitate to give her a mama bear hug. Sparrow relaxed into it instantly and looked relieved at her warm welcome.

“I hope you like your surprise,” Sparrow said.

Karen laughed and brushed the happy tears from her face. “I love it. I can't imagine a better Christmas present than having you all here.”

Kelly took his turn hugging everyone next, and Karen affectionately scolded him when she found out he’d known you were coming.

“You could at least have told me to mop or something,” she said.

He laughed. “When have I ever been able to tell you to do anything, woman?”

Karen fussed over all of you as you settled in, handing out mugs of coffee and asking Kelly to put a load of sheets on to wash.

“I assume you have plans in town,” she said. “Or are you wanting to spend the whole week here in the kitchen with me?”

“That wouldn’t be so bad,” Josh said with a smile. “Bur we do have to take Sparrow to see the singing tree.”

Sparrow blushed. “We don't have to make plans around me,” she said sweetly. “I’m happy to do whatever.”

Jake gave her a reassuring kiss on her blushed nose. “You gotta see the singing tree, sweetheart. That’s non-negotiable.”

“Jake’s right,” Karen said. “But I'm surprised you’ve never seen it before.”

“I spent Christmases at my grandparents’ in Boston,” Sparrow said. “And it appears I’ve missed out on something spectacular.”

Karen smiled. “Are your grandparents missing you this year?”

Sparrow smiled too. “Yes ma’am, but they’re happy I’m here.”

Karen patted her hand in a motherly gesture. “Well, we’re happy you're here too.” She looked at Josh and Jake. “Are you all sharing your old room?”

Josh grinned. “That might get a little dicey, mama, don’t you think?”

You were sure if Karen were wearing pearls, she would have clutched them. “Oh lord, Joshua.”

He laughed, big and bright, and you loved the sound of it even if you were a little embarrassed at his teasing.

Karen softened and gave him a fondly exasperated smile. “So where are you planning to sleep that’s not so dicey? Your sister’s room?”

The boys gave various groans of disgust and horror at the thought, and you and Sparrow laughed with Karen.

“No thanks,” Josh said. “Baby and I can take the pull-out in the basement.”

“That’s fine,” she said. “Your dad moved all your music stuff down there, so you might have to shuffle some things around, but the couch is still there.”

“Speaking of,” Kelly said, “let’s go ahead and get your stuff from the car and get you all settled in. The guys and I have a set tonight, so I won’t be able to help later.”

“You didn’t say you had a set tonight,” Sam said. “Where are you playing?”

Kelly shrugged. “Main Street Tavern.”

“We should go,” Jake said. “Can we?”

Kelly gave a proud, pleased smile. “Sure. I’d like it if you came. You can come by when you’re done walking around downtown.”

The boys filed out with Kelly to get your bags, talking about what he was going to play at the gig, and you and Sparrow took a seat at the kitchen island as Karen pulled a pan of cookies out of the oven.

“Can we help with anything?” you asked as Karen went back to baking.

“Oh, no, you just sit right there and drink your coffee,” she said. She gave you and Sparrow a warm smile. “I know I’ve said it a hundred times, but I’m really glad you girls are here.”

You both thanked her and accepted the cookies she gave you.

“I know where Jake gets his cooking skills from,” Sparrow said.

Karen smiled. “Well, he got most of it from his dad, but I do make a mean batch of cookies, and I’m glad at least one thing I taught that boy stuck with him.”

You knew that each of the Kiszka boys had learned invaluable lessons from both of their parents; they were the men they were today because they’d learned kindness and generosity from Karen and Kelly. You were thankful that Josh had such good parents, and you were so happy to be able to spend Christmas with them.

You and Sparrow reluctantly left the cosy kitchen to help with luggage as the boys came back in. You brushed snow from Josh’s curls and earned a sweet laugh from your boyfriend.

“Am I all snowy, baby?” he asked.

“Yes, but you look very cute.”

“Aw, baby.” He gave you a quick kiss. “You sure are sweet, you know that?”

Things quieted down for a while as all of you went to unpack, and you and Josh ventured down to the basement you’d spent many hours in during your childhood.

“We might end up having the coolest room, baby.”

You agreed as you plugged in the many strands of Christmas lights hung across the ceiling, illuminating the cosy room filled with instruments, comfy couches, and well-loved games like foosball and ping-pong. You’d always liked the Kiszkas’ basement, and you didn’t mind rooming in it over your trip.

Josh pulled out the sofa bed and sat on the edge, the springs protesting his weight.

“Squeaky,” he teased.

You huffed a laugh. “Guess you’ll have to get creative, then.”

He grinned. “Is that a challenge, baby? Because I accept.”

You went to wash your face in the bathroom just off the basement, cleaning off the feeling of traveling, and Josh came in and rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Are you happy we’re here for Christmas?” he asked.

You met his eyes in the mirror. He looked a little unsure, and you turned to face him.

“Of course I am, honey,” you said. “Why wouldn't I be? I love to be at your parents’.”

“I know,” he said. “But I didn’t know if you were sad to not have our first Christmas after we moved in our new house.”

You draped your arms over his shoulders. “I was, a little, but I wanted you to be here for Christmas. I know your parents missed you when we moved, and I'm glad we’re here. We’ll have plenty of Christmases in Nashville.”

He kissed you, soft and tender. “Thank you for doing all this, baby.”

You smiled. “You’re welcome, Josh. I love you.”

He hugged you tight. “I love you too.”

Read chapter two!

it's been so long since i've written for the cabin fever universe that i don't even know who's on the taglist any more! if you'd like to be tagged in this fic, please send me an ask! ♡

fic taglist: @shutupdevvie @streamsofstardust

gvf taglist: @gvfrry @ohhey1293 @the-chaotic-cow @mountain-in-springtime @xserenax-13 @stardustjtk @brooke-gvf @weightofdreams-gvf @jakeydoesit @gretasmokerising @loofypoofy @hayley1623 @doodle417 @finestoflines @brokenbellz @bowievanfleet @s0livagant @trplshotofdopamine @strugglingtodoshit @deadbeat-z @s-u-t @kay-jordan @gretavanfleas @jakeyboiiiiiii @gretavansteph @gretavanbitches @myownparadise96 @luverleaver @weightofdreamz @greatervanfleet @maedesculpaeusoubi @jakekiszkasbestie @pineapple-photographer @baguettejuliette @alexxavicry @levi-wants-ur-bones @carlybubs @cowboysamkiszka

sorry if tumblr didn’t tag you — it’s stupid sometimes. but i’m real thankful for you, sweet peaches! and if you’re a new bestie and would like to be added to my taglist, check out the form right here!

#the working title for this fic was ''a very frankenmuth christmas'' and i just feel you ought to know this #i'm so excited to hear what you guys think!! i've missed writing the cabin fever gang :')#gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet fanfiction #gvf fluff #josh kiszka fanfiction #danny wagner fanfiction #jake kiszka fanfiction #sam kiszka fanfiction #danny wagner x sam kiszka #josh x baby #jake x sparrow #cabin fever fics #maddie writes stuff!

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up-to-some-good · 10 months

Text

Traditions (2/9)

A little later than intended, but here it is: second year, second tradition

Previous Part

Next Part

December 1972

Second year was tough for Sirius. Regulus was finally with him at Hogwarts, but across the castle in a different house and refusing to be seen talking to his brother. They still spoke, but Regulus insisted on hiding in broom closets and leaving separately, lest someone report back to their parents that he had been seen with the traitor.

His parents were getting progressively more insufferable. At first, they had sent him a weekly Howler, bemoaning that he couldn't be more like Regulus and that he kept getting into trouble. Thankfully, that didn't last very long. By his thirteenth birthday, they were completely ignoring him, not even sending a note for the rest of term, even though he knew they'd been told about the Marauders' latest antics.

The next he heard from them was a short note, just one sentence sent by owl the day before winter break began.

"Your presence is neither required nor welcome home this holiday."

He showed the note to McGonagall immediately, added his name to the list of students staying over the break, and watched with resignation as his brother left with everyone else to go home for Christmas.

His only saving grace was that he wouldn't be alone in Gryffindor tower, as Remus was staying over the holiday too. The full moon fell too close to Christmas for his comfort, and his parents were visiting his great-grandparents who he had never met for the holiday, so he had opted to stay at school too.

There weren't any other Gryffindor students staying behind, although there were a few scattered between the other houses, but Remus and Sirius had the tower to themselves. They spent their days playing in the snow and warming up by the fire in the common room, playing endless games of chess. They once again made a gingerbread house and ate the whole thing just the two of them.

The problem came at night, when Remus was already asleep and Sirius found himself wide awake, staring out the window and wondering what was going on at home. Was Regulus having fun? Did he know that their parents had asked Sirius not to come? Or did he think it was his brother's idea? Had anyone asked about him at all?

On Christmas Eve, Sirius found himself in the same place as midnight drew closer. He knew he wouldn't be receiving any gifts from his family, not even Reg, and for the first time wondered if he should just suck it up and try to be a better son.

"Sirus?"

He jumped and turned to see Remus staring at him groggily from his bed.

"Why're you 'wake?"

"Couldn't sleep," Sirius whispered back. "Go back to sleep, Rem. I'll be okay."

Remus shook his head and sat up. He rubbed his eyes before reaching for a book at his bedside and gesturing for Sirius to come over.

He obeyed easily, going to sit next to Remus, leaning against the headboard. Remus pulled the covers over their legs and opened his book to a dog-eared page.

"My mom used to read this to me before bed every Christmas Eve," he explained. "It would help me sleep even though I was overexcited about the next day."

He shifted until he was lying down properly and pulled Sirius, indicating that he should do the same.

"Close your eyes, Sirius," he whispered.

Sirius stared at his friend across their shared pillow for a moment, grey eyes meeting brown in the dark dorm. Finally, he closed his eyes and Remus began to read.

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;

#wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #wolfstar fic #pre relationship #baby wolfstar #christmas fic #christmas fluff #hurt/comfort kinda #also accurate full moon because i'm pedantic #i'm basing most of these traditions on real things my mom did/does when i was little and am feeling very nostalgic about it all

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mostly-marvel-musings · 2 years

Note

Hello! Can I request 💌 Secret Santa with tony stark? Reader gets him and takes the opportunity to tell him that she's pregnant and he's all happy 🥹🥹🥹

Secret Santa

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Warnings: None. Just fluff.

This was it.

You were about to drop the biggest news on your boyfriend, a life altering one. As the two bright red lines stared back at you, as did your future.

The team had decided on Secret Santa for Christmas, and just your luck, you’d got Tony Stark - the man himself, your boyfriend and the father of the tiny bean that was growing in your belly.

Grabbing a pen, you added a note on a piece of paper after going over each possible scenario hundred times over in your head. You placed the pregnancy test in a little box, along with the note and wrapped it nicely complete with a red and gold ribbon.

Your nerves kicked in by the time it got dark and the gift exchange program with the team ticked near. A part of you was excited to know his reaction while the other thought of things that could go wrong. You hadn’t exactly discussed this in the past.

What if he freaked out? What if he wasn’t ready to have a child? What if you weren’t fully ready either?

As you got ready for the evening, your hand instinctively went over your tummy, caressing it over the red sweater you wore, whispering a quick ‘we’ll be okay’ to your baby.

It had to be alright.

The Compound was decorated beautifully for Christmas and it was refreshing to see the team out of their uniforms, having a great time while soft music played in the room, a large Christmas tree twinkling in the corner.

As the evening went on with Dum-E going around distributing gifts to the team members one by one while you stood with baited breath as Tony reached in the bag for his, catching your gaze and giving you a flirty wink.

This was it.

You watched him like a hawk as he opened the little box, eyes scanning over the note you’d written that read —

One of us is eating for two while the other will be drinking for two. Congratulations Daddy Stark!

You held your breath as it all played out in slow motion; Tony holding the test in his hand before meeting your eyes across the room, his face a mixture of surprise and elation.

Your smiles mirrored as he reached you, eyes filled with emotion as they glanced at your stomach, before searching yours for a confirmation.

“I’m pregnant, Tony. We’re going to be parents!”

Your voice cracked at the end as tears of joy blurred your vision, soon turning into a laugh as Tony scooped you in his arms and held you close, spinning you around happily.

As his lips descended on yours in a kiss that said it all, the unsaid joy, love and adventure that awaited the two of you.

Holiday Prompts

#tony stark drabble #tony stark imagine #tony stark x reader #christmas drabbles #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark fluff #tony stark feels #marvel fanfiction #iron man fluff #iron man fanfic #tony stark x you

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baronessblixen · 2 years

Note

23. Mistletoe kiss! (I think you know who)

Thank you for the prompt! This turned into a sequel to Christmas With The Scullys, but I think it can also be read on its own. It's very fluff.

Wc: 2,231 | Tagging @today-in-fic

Mistletoe Musings

Gooey darkness greets him as he slowly comes to, trying to blink away the sleep from his eyes. He wakes up languidly, stretching his legs, amazed at how soft this bed is. How quiet everything is here. How wonderful it smells.

Wait.

Mulder opens his eyes fully, looking around. His head is throbbing in tandem with his heartbeat. Where the fuck is he and why is he not alone in his bed? First things first. This, he realizes seeing a picture of a very young Scully and her siblings – Bill may have grown, but he hasn’t changed – on the nightstand, is not his bed, or his home. The memories return to him in scraps. Hospital. Concussion. Scully’s car. Scully’s mother’s house.

The bed he’s sleeping in is Scully’s. The person he’s sharing the bed with is… Scully. His eyes are still getting used to the dark, but now that he knows, he can see her. The lump under the comforter is without a doubt his partner. This isn’t the first time they’re sharing a bed, but it’s the first time they’re sharing her bed.

He doesn’t remember why they put him up here in Scully’s room. Does her mother think they’re dating? Scully, still asleep, chooses that moment to scoot closer to him, sighing deeply. Her scent is intoxicating. So is her proximity. If his mind keeps going down this path, his head will soon no longer be the only thing throbbing.

What he has to do is get a grip. This is Scully. She brought him here because he got himself hurt – again – and he couldn’t be left alone. Like a child. He’s crashing her Christmas because he acted before thinking.

He should thank Scully and all his lucky stars that he’s here and alive, not dead in some ditch, or all alone in a hospital. His eyes find Scully and his mind stops racing. A smile breaks on his face, just watching her sleep. He shifts the tiniest bit closer to her, hoping she won’t wake. When she doesn’t stir, he wills himself to relax. His eyes watching her, he’s being pulled back to sleep, too.

“Why can’t we wake them?” Someone not too quietly whispers. “I want to see what Santa brought!”

“Shhh. Let them sleep a moment longer.” Another voice chimes in, more familiar and more mature. It must be Mrs. Scully.

“Huh?” Scully, who at some point during the night decided to use his chest as a pillow, wakes up and as soon as she realizes how close they are, she gasps. But she doesn’t move away. She glances at him, her mind playing catch up, and then she smiles.

“Good morning,” she says.

“Grandma, they’re awake!” Two Scully children exclaim and both Mulder and Scully turn towards the door where Mrs. Scully stands with the biggest grin on her face.

“You better hurry,” she says, chuckling. “These kids are in a hurry.”

“Aunt Dana and the fox are awake!” One of the children screams, running down the stairs.

“What time is it?” Mulder asks once they’re alone again.

“Early,” Scully replies with a yawn. “Too early. How’s your head?”

“Scully, why is your very Catholic mother not at all fazed that I’m in your bed?”

“I take it your head is better.” Her words don’t stop her from touching the bump on his head and he winces. “There’s not enough space with half my family here. Is your head not better? Do we need to go back to the hospital?” Her hand is still on his head, but now she’s cradling it.

“No. No, we don’t. You’re important to me,” he says, remembering saying the same thing to her last night. He wants to say it again. Needs to say it again. There are no painkillers in his blood. Even the adrenaline is gone. If she didn’t believe him last night, she cannot deny it this morning.

“You told me last night. Do you- do you remember what happened yesterday?”

“I know I said it last night,” he assures her. “I do remember what happened. Well, mostly. I know where we are, and I know who I am, and I know who you are. What else do I need? I just wanted to say it again so that you know I meant it.”

“Thank you, Mulder,” she says, blushing faintly. “I meant it, too.”

“Glad we’re on the same page.” He grins at her, his head moving towards hers. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knows that they were supposed to get up and go downstairs where a plethora of Scullys wait for them. But what he really wants is to drink in Scully’s sleep-tousled hair, her make-up-free morning face full of freckles, and her inviting lips.

“Mulder,” she says, his name sounding like a murmur. Her eyes flicker to his lips, letting him know that she wants this, too. But before their mouths meet, his brain fires another word at him.

“Mistletoe,” he says, right before their lips meet. “We talked about mistletoe last night, didn’t we?” Scully chuckles, her eyes closing briefly.

“We did.”

“I still don’t know if there is any downstairs.”

“I think it’s time you find out.”

They draw all eyes to them when they enter Mrs. Scully’s living room. For a moment Mulder isn’t sure whether he’s seeing double. He’s never seen so many people for Christmas. They’re everywhere.

“Finally,” a kid says with a groan, crawling towards the tree and the presents there. Scully takes his hand, leading him toward the couch where her mother is sitting. Mulder feels several pairs of eyes bore into him. Most prominently Bill Jr.’s. He swallows hard, smiling at everyone else.

“Oh dear,” Mrs. Scully says. “There really is not enough space here.” She motions to the couch and Mulder realizes she’s right. There’s just enough space for one more person. They can’t very well ask the old lady with her cup of tea to sit on the floor.

“I can, um, stand over there,” Mulder says, pointing. “It’s fine.”

“Don’t be silly,” Mrs. Scully says. “Dana can sit on your lap. Come on now,” she urges. “You’re going to miss all the fun.”

Mulder and Scully exchange a quick look. If they don’t sit down soon, they will make it worse. Though Mulder isn’t sure things can be worse now.

“Sit down,” Scully says, her voice soft. She touches his arm, letting him know it’s okay. This is at once a dream and a nightmare come true. But he sits down, the couch sinking under his weight. Mrs. Scully nods at him, smiling before she redirects her focus back to the children. The only person still watching them is Bill Jr.

Mulder’s head is throbbing but he ignores it, waiting for Scully to sit on his lap. His Scully on his lap. She’s light as a feather, feeling just right sitting here. His arms go around her waist of their own volition. She leans against him, throwing him a quick smile. As he watches everyone tear through their presents, wrapping paper flying everywhere, he wonders if this is happening or a side effect of his concussion. Last night, he shared a bed with Scully. This morning, she’s sitting in his lap.

“This one’s for you, Dana.” Someone hands Scully a present and he rests his head on her shoulder to watch her unwrap it.

“What a beautiful scarf,” she says. “Thank you, Aunt Sylvia.”

“It’s from Santa,” one of the children reminds her.

“You’re right,” Scully says, laughing. “Thank you, Santa.” She turns around to look at Mulder, still smiling. He’s never seen her like this, like Dana. Being around her family grounds her, mellows her. She’s the most beautiful he’s ever seen her.

“Happiness looks good on you,” he whispers.

“It looks good on you, too,” she says, wrapping the scarf around him. It already smells like her and he doesn’t ever want to take it off. She’s right: he’s happy. It’s been more years than he can count since he’s felt this peaceful on Christmas.

“I know you had no choice,” Mulder says, his voice breaking. “But thank you for bringing me here.”

“I wanted you here, Mulder. I could have left you in the hospital.”

“I need to find that mistletoe,” he says. As much as he wants to kiss her – and do it right now – it might just be the last straw for Bill Jr.

“Look around,” Scully whispers, making him shiver all over. He does. His eyes scan the whole room and then, finally, he sees it. Mistletoe right by the window. He knew he could count on Mrs. Scully. Now all he has to do is be patient. He’s grinning like a Cheshire cat, much to the delight of the other grown up guests. He hopes they don’t know what he’s thinking about. But even if they do, he can’t care. Not tonight. Today he will receive the greatest Christmas gift he can imagine. He will get to kiss Scully.

In the end, it’s probably no more than an hour. To Mulder, it feels endless. The last present is unwrapped, the children are happy and playing with their toys, and the adults are refilling their coffees to stay awake and alert. Mulder doesn’t need caffeine. He’s thirsty for something else. But Tara has grabbed Scully by the arm and now the two women are in the kitchen while Mulder hangs around the mistletoe by himself.

“So you are Dana’s partner.” A woman approaches him, holding a plate with cookies. She offers one to Mulder and he politely takes one. “I’m her aunt. I’ve been very curious about you.”

“Hmm?” Is all he can say with his mouth full of cookie.

“Maggie told me all about you and Dana. She was hoping you’d be here. I love Dana, but these last few years,” she trails off, sighing. “It was obvious that there was always something missing. Someone missing. It was you. It’s good to see my favorite niece smile again. Don’t tell Bill Jr. I called Dana my favorite.” She winks at him and Mulder smiles, trying to process what he just heard.

He doesn’t get much time, because Scully returns to the living room, walking towards him. He forgets everything else. There is no one else in this room but them. His head doesn’t hurt. The only reason his knees are weak is that Scully is smiling at him. She has a cup of coffee in her hand that she puts on the mantelpiece.

“Hi,” he says, his voice breathless.

“Hi.”

“I found mistletoe.”

“I see.”

“You know the tradition,” he says.

“I do. You should be glad Aunt Sylvia didn’t look up just now,” Scully says. “I think she might have a thing for you.”

“Hmm, too bad. I’m already interested in someone else.”

“Who?” Scully asks, but he steals the word from her lips. They meet in the middle with her on tiptoes and him slightly stooped. It starts out soft and gentle, a perfect first kiss. But when Scully’s fingers lock in his hair, all bets are off. He forgets that he shouldn’t be upright for longer periods of time. His knees buckle, but kissing Scully takes precedence over everything else.

“There are children present, for God’s sake.” It’s Bill’s booming voice that brings them back to the present, to Mrs. Scully’s house, and the various family members glaring at them.

“I’m, um, we- well.” Mulder tries to find words, but can’t. He wipes his mouth and Bill’s eyes narrow.

“The kids are not even paying attention,” Scully says. Everyone over the age of 12 is, however. Mulder has never seen so many women smile at him. He stands closer to Scully, knowing she’ll protect him.

“I said I’d try to be nice to him,” Bill says, looking him up and down. “But Dana, this is going too far.”

“It was one kiss, Bill.”

“Hey, don’t fight, please,” Mulder says, his headache returning with a vengeance. “I think I need to sit down anyway. I’m a bit dizzy.”

“I wasn’t thinking.” She throws Bill a dirty look and for a brief moment, the siblings battle a silent fight that Scully seems to be winning. She leads Mulder over to the couch where every Scully woman starts fawning over him. His very own Scully has her hand on his head, straightening the hair she mussed up. He grins, thinking about what happened mere moments ago. He wants it to happen again soon.

“He’s wearing lipstick,” Aunt Sylvia says, taking a sip from her coffee. “Looks good on him.” Somewhere Bill Jr. groans while everyone else laughs. Scully wipes the lipstick away with her thumb, pressing a kiss to his cheek. She’s not at all shy with him here, surrounded by her family. Even if she only does it to rile up her big brother, he doesn’t care. After all, he gets kisses. From Scully. He will never complain about that. Though he can’t wait to do this when they’re alone and Bill Jr. isn’t breathing down their necks. Quite literally.

“It really does look good on you,” she whispers, bringing him back to the present.

“Maybe I can wear it again later?” He asks, full of hope.

“Oh, you will be wearing it again later tonight, don’t worry,” she promises him.

#got long #i feel like i could have turned this into a novella #wish i were kidding #christmas fluff really is my jam #thank you all for being so sweet to me about it #msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic

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lily-janus · 9 months

Text

The Christmas Spirit

Summary: follow the Sanders family as they celebrate christmas

Pairing: familial dark sides+ Patton+ Logan, pre-romantic royalty

Warnings: none that I can think of but let me know if I missed something

Word count: 2,274

Written by @lily-janus as a gift to @8beez for the @sanderssidesgiftxchange

I gotta be honest I've had a major writers block for a long while now and this fic doesn't have much plot, I tried to do a pure fluff story but idk how I feel about how it came out.

Hope you enjoy it! And in the case you don't I'd be happy to write for you again something else^^

Happy holidays!

-----------------------------------

It was quiet in the Sanders’ home when Patton walked inside, knowing his kiddos are fast asleep by now as he entered and went to arrange their gifts under the tree before going to bed himself.

What he didn’t know, however, was that his kiddos couldn’t wait to find out what they’re gifts were, which won’t be until much later the next day due to Patton insisting they’ll go around the neighborhood and give everyone sweet little gifts every year.

His kiddos had a plan.

The problem was, this wasn’t the first time they tried it so they were sure their dad would be ready for them to try again. Another problem was that the tree with the gifts was in Patton’s bedroom.

So they decided Janus would go in first, him being the stealthiest and the best at improvising if something goes wrong.

The rest waited outside for Janus’ signal that things were either safe or he needed back up.

In the case Patton will wake up, Remus would come in first claiming he had a nightmare and try to lead their dad away from the room.

If that won’t work Virgil will claim to be hungry and not being able to sleep because of it.

Logan planned for more possible scenarios but for now it was the time to act.

“Alright, everyone knows the plan?” Logan made sure, looking at each of his brothers’ eyes.

Virgil played with the sleeves of his pajamas nervously but nodded.

Remus grinned wildly as he nodded with vigor.

And Janus smirked, tilting his head slightly in agreement.

“Okay, let us begin then, remember stealth is key.”

They all turned to look at Remus. “What? I can be stealthy!” He said loudly, disproving his point. “Ok not usually but our presents are on the line here! I’ll be quiet, promise.”

They exchanged looks, then shrugged, Logan opening the door of their bedroom slowly and carefully, leading them all down the hall.

Things seemed to be going smoothly and quietly for a while until they reached the rickety flight of stairs that led to the bottom floor of the house.

Logan, being the lead, started going down first, making sure each stair wouldn’t make a sound with his toe before landing on it, Virgil and Janus followed once he reached the ground and they all looked up to watch Remus go down last.

Remus wasn’t careful like the others and in his rush he produced a number of loud squeaks from the stairs before he caught up with the rest, all of them holding their breath for any indication that their dad woke up from the noise.

After a few tense seconds ticked by, they all let out a relieved sigh when they didn’t hear anything from Patton’s bedroom.

Logan resumed the lead again as they walked in a straight line towards their target.

Suddenly, they heard a loud bark before Virgil was tackled to the floor from the force of their puppy, Mr. Snuggles, jumping on him and showering his face with dog kisses.

Remus’ noise earlier apparently woke him up.

Virgil giggled as he tried to get away from the over energized pup just as they heard the click of a light being switched on and their dad’s footsteps coming their way.

They all froze.

The footsteps were getting closer.

Janus looked around quickly before spotting their couch and signaling the others to follow him and hide under it.

Mr. Snuggles finally left Virgil to greet Patton and they all slid under the couch a split second before Patton’s bare feet came to view.

“Hey there Snuggly…” Patton greeted sleepily, yawning softly, “couldn’t sleep huh?” He squatted down to pet the dog for a bit before standing back up, “alright, let’s fill up your bawl so we can both go back to sleep.” And they both disappeared into the kitchen.

“This is our chance, Janus, make a run for the bedroom and hide under dad’s bed until he falls back asleep, then you can let us in one by one.” Logan whispered, leaning a little sideways so he could see Janus heard him and understood.

Janus smirked, “you got it, Teach.” he crawled on his belly before emerging from under the couch and standing up, checking the coast was clear, he made a run for the bedroom and slid under the enormous bed, and waited.

From where he lay, he could see the bottom of the tree and the four presents arranged next to it, he quickly spotted the yellow-wrapped one with cartoonish green snakes and smirked, already seeing that the size could match what he was hoping to get this year.

It took all his self control not to exit from under the bed and tear away the yellow wrapping paper, but he was quickly saved from the temptation by his yawning dad returning to the room and crawling back into bed, his quiet, even breathing soon indicated that he fell back asleep.

Quietly, Janus crawled from under the bed and moved to the door, opening it a crack to stick his hand out and give the others the all-clear sign.

He quietly moved towards the presents as he heard the light footsteps of his brothers moving closer and stared at his present.

He picked it up just as Logan slipped inside the room and quickly spotted his own gift, wrapped in a navy blue paper.

They both shared a smile before starting to shake their gifts gently, trying to guess what was inside by the size and heft of them.

They were quickly joined by Remus and Virgil and the guessing game began.

Logan’s gift had the shape of a book but it was a bit too heavy and a bit bumpy on the back to be only that.

Janus’ was quite big and heavy, making him hope it was the game console he’d been hinting at his dad to get all year.

Virgil’s was light and had the slight shape of some sort of animal, making him think this was another plushie for his collection.

And Remus’ was bulky and round, not too light nor too heavy, making him wish this was some sort of toy-weapon.

The light turned on suddenly.

They all jumped, having been too focused on their gifts to pay attention to their father, who woke up from their presence and went to turn on the light.

He looked at them with an amused expression, “well what do we have here?” He chuckled lightly.

“Um… you’re dreaming?” Janus offered with a nervous smile.

Patton barked a hearty laugh, “nice try.” He squeezed them all in a bear hug, “naughty children, what am I going to do with you?” He said lightly before releasing them.

“Let them open their presents early?” Remus suggested with a hopeful grin, making their bad laught again as he went to seat on the floor with them.

“Alright, alright, as long as you promise to help me make cookies for the neighborhood afterwards, deal?” Patton offered with a smile, how can he get mad at those adorable faces, and on christmas morning too.

The four kids exchanged excited smiles before nodding, “deal!” They said together, making their dad chuckle again.

“Alrighty, who’s fi-” he didn’t get to finish as all four brothers unwrapped their presents at the same time.

Janus got his gaming console, Logan got a hardback edition of his favorite book along with some bookmarks and a reading night light that attaches to the book, Virgil got the rarest plushie of his collection and Remus got a plastic morningstar with soft spikes.

Seemed like they all guessed right.

“Okey dokey, now for your part of the deal, go brush your teeth as I set everything up ok?” Patton said as he got up, ruffling Virgil’s hair affectionately as they excitedly ran to their room with their new gifts.

“And Logan?” He stopped his oldest kid in his tracks as he turned to face him. Patton winked, “nice planing.”

Logan smiled wide before resuming his run.

Patton sighed contently, what did he do to deserve them?

He remembered the adoption center thinking he was crazy to adopt four children on his own, but they were brothers and he didn’t want to seperate them. Besides, he fell hard for all of them and he couldn’t imagine his life without them.

Things were hard at first and they still are at times, but Patton wouldn’t change it for the world.

Slowly, he rose up from the ground and went to the kitchen to set up the ingredients for his famous Christmas cookies.

He whistled happily to himself as he got out his holiday cookie cutters. Including shapes such as: santa, santa hat, gingerbread man, gingerbread house, stars, christmas trees and many more.

After arranging those he went to the upper shelves and grabbed the green and red food dye for the frosting before starting to lay out the ingredients for the cookies themselves.

Just as he was finishing up, he heard his kiddos rushing inside the kitchen, teeth brushed and smiling wildly.

“Cookies!” Remus yelled as he rushed in first, followed by his brothers.

Patton grinned, gosh he loved these kids. “Yes, Remus, cookies. And we want everyone to have at least one plus leave plenty to ourselves so we better start or we’ll be here all day.”

They all nodded in agreement.

“Alright, Janus and Logan are in charge of mixing the ingredients and making the dough, Virgil and Remus, you would cut the dough into shapes and arrange them to put in the oven while I make the frosting.” Patton split the assignments and they all went to work.

Patton turned on the radio for some christmas songs as they worked, playing and laughing with each other.

It was a perfect Christmas morning.

The day went by as they made more and more cookies, Patton wanted to make sure that there will be enough for everyone, and took some eating and watching holiday cartoons breaks.

Christmas eve finally arrived and the Sanders family put on their coats and loaded cookie baskets and set out to deliver them around their small town.

“Dad?” Logan asked as they walked the streets.

“Yes Kiddo?” Patton answered with a smile.

“Why do we deliver cookies to everyone each year? I’m sure plenty, if not, all the people in town have their own food and cookies.” Logan wondered.

“I just think it’s a nice tradition, you know? I’m sure most people don’t need our cookies, but it’s not about that, it’s about spreading kindness and giving back to the world.” Patton answered.

“I don’t think I get it.” Logan frowned as they reached another house and gave the residence some cookies.

Patton tried to think about how best to explain it to his son when they entered an old building. He rang the bell of the first apartment and waited.

The man who answered looked tired and… pretty cute, Patton noticed with a faint blush. “Merry christmas, sir! We-”

“Sorry I… I don’t have any money for charity… I’ll probably get kicked out of here soon anyway, have a good night.” He went to close the door but Patton stopped him.

“We’re not here for donations, we’re going around town to bring people christmas cookies! Homemade, would you like some?” He picked one from his basket and offered it to the handsome man, his kids playing behind him in the hallway.

“Oh! Um… for free? Just like that?” The man asked, surprised. Patton nodded and was delighted to see a smile forming on the man’s face. “That’s awfully kind of you! Um… I’m Roman, nice to meet you.” The man offered his hand.

Patton smiled, “Patton! …are you alone here, Roman? On Christmas eve?” He tried to look inside the apartment.

Roman let out a sigh, “yep… my family doesn’t approve of the ‘failed gay actor’ lifestyle so..” he shrugged. “Anyway, I’d love some cookies thank you, you probably want to continue to the next place.”

Patton’s heart went out for the man, “actually, can I borrow a pen and piece of paper?”

Roman’s eyebrow shot up curiously but he went inside and came back with what he asked for. Patton took the items and wrote his phone number and address.

“There, if you need someone to talk to… or a place to crash for a while, we have a guest room, it’s a big house, I’m a doctor and we love space so..” Patton explained, smiling as he pressed the piece of paper into Roman’s hand along with a few dozen cookies. “Merry Christmas, Roman.”

“I um… Thank you,” Roman said in disbelief, eyes turning slightly watery, “m-merry Christmas” he stammered and closed the door gently.

“Huh.”

Patton turned around to see Logan watching the closed door.

“What is it, Kiddo?”

Logan looked up at his dad and smiled, “I think I get it now.”

Patton returned the smile, “c’mon, that’s enough for tonight, let’s head back and watch The Grinch until we fall asleep, help me with your brothers.”

….

It was quiet in the Sanders’ home as Patton tacked in his sons.

“Daddy?” Remus asked softly as Patton covered him with his green blanket, “why don’t we have a mom?”

Patton blinked in surprise at the question, “well son I… I’m not that interested in women.” He said simply.

“Then why don’t we have a second dad?” Remus persisted.

“Well I guess I haven’t found the right one…” his thoughts wondered to Roman, “yet..”

Remus yawned, “oh, okay, g’night dad.”

Patton kissed his forehead, “good night, son.”

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