#cozy powell asks

[rootedinrevisions]

A Holiday to Remember

SUMMARY: When plans with your family fall through, an unexpected invitation leads you to spending Christmas with Glen - and his lively, close-knit family. You find yourself swept up in the warmth of holiday traditions and the undeniable pull of a connection you never saw coming. Between stolen moments under twinkling lights and whispered confessions, the boundaries of friendship blur, leaving you to wonder if this Christmas could be the start of something extraordinary or just a fleeting holiday dream.

A/N: So I was hoping to have this out before or on Christmas but then I got writer's block and struggled to finish it. And then I got inspiration...maybe too much inspiration. I watched Anyone But You and then a couple Hallmark movies so this definitely has a rom-com/cheesy Hallmark vibe to it. That's also why this is so long because as I was watching those movies I got ideas for moments to add to the story. But hopefully you all enjoy this!

WARNINGS: Some light cursing, maybe? Otherwise I don't think there's any warnings. Just 17k words of cute fluffy wholesomeness.

WORD COUNT: 17.5k (I got a little carried away with this one.)

TAGS: In Comments

The warm glow of string lights hung delicately along the restaurant's windows, casting a cozy hue on the bustling Los Angeles sidewalk. You took a deep breath, smoothing your sweater as you stepped inside, the gentle hum of conversation and clinking glasses enveloping you.

Approaching the host stand, you offered a polite smile. "Hi, I’m here for Glen Powell’s reservation."

The host, a young woman with a sleek bob and a professional smile, glanced at her list before nodding. "Of course. Right this way." She grabbed a menu and gestured for you to follow her through the dimly lit dining room.

As you weaved between tables, your nerves fluttered faintly, though you weren’t sure why. It wasn’t like this was anything new—just dinner with Glen. Something you’d done dozens of times.

The host led you to a table tucked in the back corner, offering a little more privacy from the busy main floor. Glen spotted you almost immediately. He set his phone down and stood up, his familiar, easy grin spreading across his face as he opened his arms.

“There she is,” he said warmly, pulling you into a hug as soon as you reached him. His cologne—a blend of something woodsy and clean—wrapped around you, as comforting as the embrace itself.

“Sorry I’m late,” you murmured against his shoulder before pulling back. “Traffic was a nightmare.”

He waved off your apology as you both sat down, his smile never faltering. “You’re in L.A.—isn’t traffic always a nightmare?” He leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on the edge of the table. “Besides, you’re here now, and that’s all that matters.”

The way his gaze lingered on you for just a second too long made your stomach flutter, but you quickly pushed the feeling aside. It was Glen, your friend. Nothing more.

You picked up the menu and skimmed over the options, even though you weren’t really focusing on the words. Glen sat across from you, flipping his own menu open but still managing to glance your way every few moments.

“So,” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence. “How’s the movie coming along? Are you still filming, or are you finally getting some time to breathe?”

Glen chuckled softly, setting the menu down as he leaned back in his chair. “We wrapped a few days ago, actually. Post-production is in full swing now, so it’s out of my hands now. Now I can take a break and get some normalcy.”

“Normalcy,” you repeated, arching an eyebrow. “For you, that probably means jetting off somewhere, doesn’t it?”

He smirked, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Okay, maybe my version of ‘normal’ is a little skewed. But I’m just going back to Austin for a few days. Nothing too crazy. What about you? How’s work? Are they letting you off the hook at all this holiday season?”

You sighed, your eyes drifting back to the menu as you tried to keep your voice light. “It’s fine. Busy, as always. But I guess that’s better than having nothing to do, right?”

He frowned slightly, studying you with an intensity that made you squirm just a little. “You sure you’re doing okay?”

“Yeah,” you said quickly, forcing a smile. “I’m good. It’s just—work has been hectic, and I haven’t really had time to think about the holidays.”

His brow furrowed. “Wait. Don’t tell me you’re not going home for Christmas.”

You hesitated, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “It’s just… complicated,” you admitted, your voice quieter now. “My family’s so far away, and with work, I just couldn’t make the timing work. So, yeah, I’ll be here this year. But it’s not a big deal.”

Glen’s jaw tightened, and you could practically see the wheels turning in his head. “You’re spending Christmas alone?”

You shrugged, trying to play it off. “I’ll survive.”

“No way,” he said firmly, shaking his head. “That’s not happening.”

You blinked, startled by his sudden intensity. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you’re coming with me,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “To Texas. You can’t spend Christmas alone—that’s just… wrong.”

“Glen,” you began, already shaking your head. “I can’t just crash your family’s holiday. That’s not fair to them—or to you.”

“They’d love you,” he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. “And it’s not crashing if you’re invited. Which you are. Officially. Come on, what’s holding you back?”

You opened your mouth to protest again, but the way he was looking at you—earnest, determined, like he wouldn’t take no for an answer—made the words catch in your throat.

“It’s just a couple of days,” he added, his voice softening now. “And I promise, it’ll be fun. Think of it as an adventure.”

You hesitated, your resolve wavering under the weight of his sincerity. Maybe, just maybe, he was right.

“Glen, I can’t just pack up and leave,” you said, trying to keep your tone firm. “I only have a couple of days off for the holiday, and—”

“Perfect,” he interrupted with a grin. “I’m only staying three days anyway. We’ll head out the morning of the 23rd, and we’ll be back by the 26th.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “It’s not that simple. Do you know how expensive last-minute flights are right now? Not to mention the hassle of even finding one—everything’s probably booked solid.”

His grin didn’t falter. “I’ll help you find a flight. Hell, I’ll even cover it if that’s what’s holding you back.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Glen, no. You’re not paying for my ticket.”

“Why not? Consider it my Christmas gift to you,” he said, leaning back in his chair with a casual shrug, as if he hadn’t just offered something outrageous.

You scoffed. “You’re insane.”

“I’m resourceful,” he corrected, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “And if it really comes down to it, I’ll fly you there myself.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking your head. “Now that seems like a gross misuse of your pilot’s license.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” he said with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes, but his determination was starting to chip away at your defenses. “Glen, I appreciate the offer, but I really don’t want to intrude on your family’s holiday. It’s their time with you, and I’d just be—”

“A welcome guest,” he cut in, his voice softer now. “Trust me, they’d love to have you there. My mom’s been asking when she’s going to meet my mysterious ‘friend’ I talk about anyway. This is the perfect chance.”

Your cheeks warmed at that, and you looked away, suddenly very interested in the pattern on your napkin. “I don’t know…”

“Come on,” he urged, leaning forward and resting his forearms on the table. “It’ll be fun. You’ll get to relax, eat some great food, and experience the chaos that is my family at Christmas. What do you have to lose?”

You sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to let this go. “What about the fact that I’ll probably end up sharing a room with one of your nieces or sleeping on the couch? Not exactly my idea of a restful holiday.”

“Wrong again,” he said with a triumphant grin. “We will be staying at my place. I have plenty of space. I’ll even take the couch if you want the nice bed.”

You laughed despite yourself, the mental image of Glen curled up on his own couch making it impossible to stay serious. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re running out of excuses,” he pointed out, his grin widening. “So? What’s it going to be?”

You hesitated, your gaze meeting his. There was something in his eyes—an openness, a genuine warmth—that made it hard to say no.

“Fine,” you said finally, throwing your hands up in defeat. “You win. I’ll go.”

His face lit up, and he reached across the table to squeeze your hand. “You won’t regret it. I promise.”

“You’d better be right,” you teased, though you couldn’t help but smile back at him.

* * * * *

The late afternoon sun cast a golden glow across the Austin skyline as Glen navigated the bustling city streets, the hum of his truck filling the comfortable silence. You sat quietly in the passenger seat, staring out the window at the vibrant murals and quirky storefronts that zipped past. Normally, you’d be chatting nonstop, asking Glen a million questions about the city or teasing him about his questionable playlist choices. But now, your hands fidgeted in your lap, and your lips pressed into a thin line, your mind elsewhere.

“You’re kind of quiet over there. You’ve said about five words since we got here,” Glen remarked, his voice light but tinged with curiosity. He glanced at you briefly, his brows furrowing in concern before turning his attention back to the road. “That’s gotta be some kind of record for you.”

You blinked, his comment pulling you from your thoughts. Turning to face him, you tried to muster a small smile. “Sorry. Just... a lot on my mind, I guess.”

Glen didn’t look convinced. “Uh-huh,” he said, his tone skeptical. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with meeting my family, would it?”

You sighed, leaning your head back against the seat. “Maybe a little.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Relax! You’ve got nothing to worry about, you know. They’re going to love you. I’m the one they’re stuck with, remember?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, but the sound was short-lived. “It’s not that I’m worried they won’t like me,” you admitted. “It’s just... I don’t know. What if I say something dumb? Or trip over the Christmas tree? Or—”

“Hey,” Glen interrupted, his voice gentle. At a red light, he reached over and placed a warm hand on your knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You’re overthinking this. My family’s not expecting perfection, okay? They’re just excited to meet the person I’ve been talking about nonstop for the last couple of months.”

Your eyes widened at his confession, heat rushing to your cheeks. “You’ve been talking about me?”

Glen grinned, the light turning green as he started driving again. “Obviously. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t brag about how great you are?” He paused, then added with a teasing smirk, “Although I may have left out the part where you can’t handle spicy food. Don’t let my mom’s salsa scare you off, alright?”

That earned a genuine laugh from you, and Glen shot you a quick, satisfied look before turning his attention back to the road.

As the city gave way to sprawling suburbs and then the open, winding roads on the edge of Austin, Glen’s demeanor remained steady—calm, reassuring, and lighthearted. He pointed out landmarks along the way, sharing stories about his time growing up in the area and cracking jokes to pull you out of your nervous headspace.

“You doing okay over there?” he asked after a while, glancing at you again.

“Yeah,” you said softly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Thanks for putting up with me.”

“Putting up with you?” Glen repeated, feigning offense. “You think I invited you out here because I had to? Please.”

The sincerity in his tone caught you off guard, your heart skipping a beat. Before you could dwell on it too much, Glen reached over to nudge your shoulder playfully. 

“Seriously, relax,” he said with a grin. “You’ll fit right in. And if anyone gives you a hard time, they’ll have to answer to me.”

You smiled at that, the knot in your stomach loosening slightly. Glen had a way of making you feel like everything was going to be okay, even when your own thoughts tried to convince you otherwise.

When he finally pulled into the gravel driveway of his house, nestled on a quiet piece of land just outside the city, the sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. Glen parked the truck and turned to you with an encouraging smile.

“Alright,” he said, unbuckling his seatbelt. “First stop: my place. Let’s drop off your stuff and then we’ll head over to my parents’ house. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” you said, taking a deep breath as you climbed out of the truck. “Sounds good.”

Glen led the way up the front porch steps, his boots thudding lightly against the wood. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, stepping aside to let you enter first.

“Welcome to Casa de Glen,” he said with a grin, sweeping his arm theatrically as you stepped inside.

The interior was exactly what you’d imagined—a perfect blend of cozy and modern. Warm wood floors stretched throughout the open-concept space, and the living room featured a large leather couch and a stone fireplace that was clearly the centerpiece of the room. A framed poster of Top Gun: Maverick hung on one wall, balanced by shelves filled with books, photos, and a few sports trophies.

“Wow,” you said, taking it all in. “It’s nice. It feels... you.”

“That’s what I was going for,” he said, closing the door behind you. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

He guided you through the living room and into the kitchen, which was sleek and modern with stainless steel appliances and a large island in the center. “This is where the magic happens,” he said, patting the countertop. “By magic, I mean reheating leftovers and making the occasional breakfast taco.”

You laughed, running your hand along the cool stone of the counter. “Very impressive.”

He pointed out a small office that doubled as a gym, then led you to the back door, which opened onto a sprawling patio overlooking a modest backyard. Twinkling string lights were strung across the patio, and a firepit sat off to the side, surrounded by chairs.

“This is great,” you said, stepping out onto the patio and taking in the peaceful view.

“It’s my favorite spot,” Glen admitted, leaning against the doorframe. “If you need to escape the chaos over the next few days, feel free to sneak out here.”

The offer warmed your heart, but before you could respond, Glen pushed off the doorframe and motioned back inside. “Come on, let’s get your bags upstairs.”

He carried your suitcase up the staircase, which was adorned with simple but tasteful decorations—a mix of family photos, framed movie posters, and a few awards he’d picked up over the years. At the top of the stairs, he turned to the left and opened a door.

“This is the guest room,” he said, stepping aside to let you enter.

The room was cozy, with a plush queen-sized bed covered in a navy-blue comforter, a small desk by the window, and a few decorative touches that made it feel welcoming—a basket of rolled-up blankets, a lamp with a warm glow, and a stack of books on the nightstand.

“This is nice,” you said, setting your carry-on bag down by the bed.

“I figured you’d want your own space,” Glen said, setting your suitcase by the desk. “Bathroom’s just down the hall, and there are extra towels in the closet if you need them.”

“Thanks,” you said softly, meeting his eyes.

He hesitated for a moment, as if debating whether to say something, before giving you a small smile. “Alright, let me show you the rest of the upstairs.”

You followed him back out into the hall, where he pointed out the bathroom and a smaller guest room that had been converted into a second office. Finally, he led you to the master bedroom at the end of the hall.

“And this is where the magic really happens,” he joked, pushing open the door to reveal a spacious room with a king-sized bed, a walk-in closet, and a sliding door that led to a private balcony.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “You and your magic. I’m starting to think you have a pretty loose definition of the word.”

“Hey, I have my moments,” he said with a wink.

He led you back downstairs, where the tour ended in the living room. “Alright, that’s the grand tour,” he said, clapping his hands together. “What do you think?”

“It’s great,” you said honestly. “It feels very...you. Like even if I didn’t know this was your house I could see you fitting in here.”

And you meant it. You’d been to Glen’s place in Los Angeles before. And it was comfortable and fine enough. But it felt more like a bachelor pad. But this house here in Austin felt like him. It felt like home.

“Good,” he said, his smile softening. “I’m glad you like it. Now, you ready to meet the chaos that is my family?”

Your stomach flipped nervously, but Glen’s easy smile was enough to settle you. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” you said.

“Perfect,” he said, grabbing his keys off the counter. “Let’s do this.”

*****

The truck rumbled to a stop in front of the charming two-story house, its exterior painted a warm cream color with dark green shutters. Wreaths adorned the windows, and strings of twinkling lights outlined the roof, giving it a postcard-worthy holiday glow. Glen shifted the truck into park, but before he could even cut the engine, the front door burst open, and a wave of people spilled out onto the porch.

“Here we go,” Glen muttered with a grin, glancing at you. “Brace yourself.”

Your heart raced as his mom was the first to step forward, her arms already open as she made her way down the steps. Cyndy Powell was the picture of warmth, her hair perfectly styled, and her face glowing with excitement. Behind her, Glen’s dad, Glen Sr., stood with an easygoing smile, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. His sisters weren’t far behind—Leslie, the youngest, bounced on her toes with a wide grin, while Lauren, the oldest, followed at a more measured pace, one hand gripping the tiny hand of Glen’s nephew. Glen’s niece trailed behind, clinging to Lauren’s husband.

“Glen!” Cyndy called, waving both hands like she hadn’t seen her son in years, even though he’d assured you it had only been a couple of weeks.

You opened your door cautiously as Glen hopped out of the truck, meeting his mom halfway with a hug. 

“Hey, Mom,” he said, his voice filled with affection.

Cyndy pulled back just enough to cup his face. “You look too thin,” she said, making him laugh. “Are you eating?”

“I’m fine, Mom,” Glen assured her, glancing over his shoulder at you.

You hesitated for half a second before stepping out of the truck, suddenly feeling like every pair of eyes was on you. Cyndy’s expression shifted immediately to one of pure delight as she made a beeline for you.

“And you must be the one Glen keeps telling us about!” she said, pulling you into a hug before you could even respond. “Oh, it’s so good to finally meet you. I’m Cyndy.”

“Hi, Mrs. Powell,” you managed, your voice slightly muffled by the hug. “It’s really nice to meet you, too.”

“Oh, please, call me Cyndy,” she insisted, pulling back to hold you at arm’s length. “You’re even prettier than Glen said.”

“Mom,” Glen groaned, rubbing the back of his neck as he came to stand beside you.

“What?” Cyndy said innocently before ushering you both toward the rest of the group. “Come on, everyone’s dying to meet her.”

One by one, you were introduced—Glen Sr., who gave you a firm handshake and a kind smile; Leslie, who immediately wrapped you in a hug and declared you were “way too cool to be hanging out with Glen”; Lauren, who gave you a warm smile and said she’d heard so much about you; and finally, Lauren’s twins, who peeked out from behind their dad shyly until Glen crouched down to scoop them up in a playful hug.

“Alright, alright,” Glen said, standing with a twin on each hip as he turned back to his family. “Let her breathe, would you? She’s not used to all this chaos.”

“Chaos?” Cyndy said, feigning offense. “This is love, Glen. Pure holiday love.”

You laughed, but Glen caught the way your shoulders tensed, and he stepped closer, his hand resting lightly on your lower back. “You okay?” he asked softly, his tone just for you.

“Yeah,” you said quickly, offering him a reassuring smile. “It’s just... a lot.”

“Don’t worry,” he said with a wink. “I’ll run interference if I have to.”

Before you could respond, Cyndy was ushering everyone inside, rattling off questions about the drive and insisting you must be starving after traveling all day. You followed the group into the house, which was every bit as welcoming as its exterior—soft, cozy furniture, a roaring fire in the living room, and the scent of something sweet wafting from the kitchen.

You shrugged out of your coat and Glen stepped closer, his hands brushing against your shoulders as he helped slide it off. The gesture was so natural, so easy, that it sent a little flutter through your chest.

“Here, I’ll take that.” His voice was casual, but the faint smile he gave you as he carefully hung your coat on the rack was anything but.

As he turned back to you, Cyndy leaned in with a knowing smile, her voice low enough that only you could hear. “He’s been so excited to bring you home. You should’ve heard him talk about it.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the comment, your cheeks warming as her words sank in. “Oh,” you managed, a little breathless.

Cyndy’s hand lingered on your arm for just a moment, her expression soft with unmistakable affection. “You’ll see,” she added with a wink, before stepping away to call to her husband about something in the kitchen.

When you turned back to Glen, he was watching you, his head tilted slightly. “What was that about?” he asked, his tone light but his curiosity clear.

“Oh, nothing,” you said quickly, trying to wave it off. But you couldn’t quite keep the smile from tugging at your lips—or the slight flush from creeping up your neck.

Glen’s eyes narrowed playfully. “Uh-huh. Sure.” He didn’t push, though, instead gesturing for you to follow him. “Come on. Let’s grab something to drink before everyone starts peppering you with questions.”

The moment lingered as you followed him into the house, Cyndy’s words echoing in your mind. The idea of Glen talking about you—being excited to bring you here—was hard to shake. Maybe it was just his family’s charm, or maybe it was something else entirely. Either way, you couldn’t help the quiet smile that stayed on your face as Glen led the way.

* * * * *

With a steaming mug of cocoa warming your hands, you smiled politely as Glen's mom chatted animatedly about the Powell family Christmas traditions. You nodded along, but the flurry of introductions and the cozy chaos of his family had you feeling a little overwhelmed. Sensing your chance for a breather, you leaned toward Glen.

“Excuse me for a minute,” you murmured, setting your mug down on the counter.

He shot you a curious look but nodded, letting you slip away.

You wandered down the hall, grateful for the moment to collect yourself. After freshening up in the restroom, you made your way back toward the kitchen, but you stopped short as voices drifted toward you from the other side of the doorway.

“...she’s adorable, Glen. Seriously,” one of his sisters—Lauren, you thought—said with a teasing lilt.

“And you brought her home for Christmas?” Leslie chimed in, her voice lilting with mock surprise.

Glen groaned, and you could practically hear him rubbing his hand over his face. “Guys, come on. We’re just friends.”

“Right,” Lauren said, drawing the word out like she didn’t believe him for a second. “Just friends, and yet you insisted she come here instead of spending Christmas alone. Sounds like something a boyfriend would do, don’t you think, Les?”

“Definitely boyfriend behavior,” Leslie agreed, clearly enjoying herself.

“You two are impossible,” Glen muttered, though his tone carried more amusement than frustration. “I didn’t want her to spend the holidays alone, okay?”

Your breath caught at his words, warmth spreading through your chest.

“Sure, sure,” Lauren said, her tone sly. “But just so you know, Mom’s already planning the wedding.”

Glen let out a sharp laugh. “There isn’t going to be a wedding. Let’s dial it back a little, huh? She’s nervous enough as it is without you two scaring her off.”

You took a step back, considering whether to linger a moment longer, but the sound of chairs scraping against the floor signaled that Glen’s sisters were on the move. Quickly, you stepped into the doorway, pretending you hadn’t heard a thing.

“Oh, there she is,” Leslie said with a grin as she and Lauren passed you.

Glen leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, his brow lifting as you stepped inside. “You okay?” he asked, his voice soft and genuine.

You nodded, though your gaze lingered on him for a moment longer than you intended. “Yeah, just needed a minute. Your family’s really nice, by the way.”

A small smile tugged at his lips. “They’re a handful, but they mean well.”

You walked over to retrieve your cocoa, the rich chocolate aroma grounding you. “They seem really excited to have everyone together.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of their thing,” Glen said, watching you closely. “What about you? You hanging in there?”

You shrugged lightly, a small smile playing at your lips. “It’s a lot, but… in a good way. It’s been a while since I’ve been around a big family like this.”

Glen straightened, stepping closer so his arm brushed against yours. “Well, they already love you.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. His grin widened, but before he could say more, his mom’s voice rang out from the living room, calling for him to help bring in the extra chairs for dinner.

He sighed dramatically, earning another laugh from you. “Duty calls,” he said, but his hand lightly touched your arm as he passed. “Don’t let them rope you into anything too crazy while I’m gone.”

You smiled, watching as he left the room. Something about being here—with him—felt unexpectedly right.

* * * * *

The kitchen buzzed with activity as Glen’s mom and sisters dove into dinner preparations. The smell of roasted turkey and fresh-baked rolls filled the air, making your stomach rumble despite the cocoa you’d just finished. Cyndy was meticulously checking the oven temperature, while Lauren and Leslie were chopping vegetables at the kitchen island.

“Need any help?” you asked hesitantly, stepping further into the room.

Lauren glanced up with a warm smile. “You’re sweet to offer, but trust me, this kitchen is already at max capacity.”

“Speak for yourself,” Leslie said, pointing her knife toward the pile of unpeeled carrots. “Here, grab a peeler. You can help me out before Mom has a meltdown over the timing.”

Cyndy turned from the oven, mock-offended. “I heard that!”

Leslie just smirked as she handed you a peeler and a couple of carrots. “Ignore her. She loves when we tease her. Keeps things interesting.”

You laughed softly and settled in next to Leslie, grateful for something to do with your hands.

“So, how are you holding up?” Leslie asked after a moment, her voice quieter, more personal.

You glanced at her, surprised by the question. “Oh, um… good, I think. Your family’s been really welcoming.”

“We’re loud, though,” Lauren chimed in, pausing her slicing to grin at you. “Hopefully Glen warned you about that.”

“It’s a good kind of loud,” you said honestly, feeling more at ease with them. “I’m just… not used to it, I guess.”

Leslie nudged you lightly with her elbow. “Well, if you can survive the Powell family Christmas chaos, you’re pretty much invincible.”

“Noted,” you said with a laugh, peeling another carrot.

Lauren tilted her head, studying you curiously. “So, how did you and Glen meet, anyway?”

You hesitated, glancing toward the doorway like Glen might walk in and save you. “We met through mutual friends,” you said carefully. “It’s kind of a long story, but we just… clicked, I guess.”

Leslie smirked, clearly enjoying the topic. “Clicked, huh? Like, just friends clicked? Or ‘maybe there’s something more’ clicked?”

Heat rose to your cheeks, and you focused intently on the carrot in your hand. “Definitely just friends,” you said quickly, your voice a little too firm.

“Hmm,” Lauren said, exchanging a look with Leslie.

Before they could press further, Glen walked in, carrying a couple of folding chairs from the garage. He stopped short when he noticed the three of you huddled together.

“What’s going on in here?” he asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously as he set the chairs against the wall.

“Nothing,” Lauren said, her voice entirely too innocent.

Leslie shrugged. “Just getting to know your friend.”

Glen sighed, giving his sisters a pointed look before turning to you. “Don’t let them gang up on you. They’re relentless once they get started.”

“I think I’m holding my own,” you said with a small smile, though you were grateful for his presence.

“Good,” Glen said, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms. “Because dinner’s almost ready, and if they scare you off before dessert, Mom’s going to kill them.”

The laughter that followed eased the lingering tension, and for the first time since you’d arrived, you felt like you were starting to find your footing amidst the whirlwind of the Powell family.

“Alright,” Cyndy said, clapping her hands together. “Let’s get everything to the table before it gets cold.”

The dining room table was a feast for the senses. Platters of turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and roasted vegetables were arranged in the center, surrounded by bowls of cranberry sauce, rolls, and casseroles. Soft holiday music played in the background, and the warm glow of the chandelier added to the cozy atmosphere.

You found yourself seated between Glen and Lauren, while the twins took turns giggling and sneaking bites of their food despite their mom’s warnings to “at least wait for everyone to get their plate.”

The conversation started casually, with everyone complimenting Cyndy’s cooking and trading jokes about who had eaten the most last Christmas. It wasn’t long before the table was buzzing with overlapping chatter and bursts of laughter.

“So, what’s everyone’s plans for New Year’s?” Lauren asked as she helped her daughter cut her turkey into smaller pieces.

“Will and I are thinking of taking the kids to the park downtown for the fireworks,” Lauren said. “What about you, Glen?”

Glen shrugged, reaching for the mashed potatoes. “Haven’t decided yet. Depends on if this one’s dragging me somewhere” He nudged your shoulder with a playful grin.

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’m not dragging you to anything. You keep inviting yourself to my plans.”

“Semantics,” he quipped, earning a chuckle from Leslie.

Cyndy, ever the gracious host, leaned toward you with a warm smile. “So, what do you usually do for the holidays with your family?”

You hesitated for a moment, caught off guard by the question. “Well, when I can make it home, we usually have a quiet Christmas. Just my parents and my siblings. Lots of food, games, and, uh, my mom’s famous fudge.”

“That sounds lovely,” Cyndy said, her tone genuine. “You’ll have to share the fudge recipe sometime. Maybe we’ll add it to our dessert rotation next year.”

“I’d love to,” you said, feeling a little more at ease.

Throughout dinner, Glen made sure to keep you involved in the conversation, throwing in lighthearted jokes and even sharing an embarrassing story from high school that had everyone in stitches.

“Remember when Glen tried to sing karaoke at the Christmas talent show?” Leslie said, her face lighting up with glee.

“Oh, no,” Glen groaned, burying his face in his hands.

Lauren jumped in. “He thought he could hit the high notes in ‘All I Want for Christmas Is You.’ Spoiler alert: he couldn’t.”

The table erupted in laughter, and even you couldn’t hold back a giggle. Glen peeked at you through his fingers, feigning betrayal.

“Sorry,” you said between laughs. “But I need to hear this someday.”

“Not happening,” Glen said firmly, shaking his head.

By the time dessert was served—a towering plate of Cyndy’s homemade pecan pie—you were full, content, and starting to see why Glen loved spending the holidays here so much.

After dinner, the energy in the house began to settle. The twins had all but fallen asleep at the table, and Lauren and her husband said their goodbyes, bundling their sleepy children into coats before heading out for the night.

“I’ll see you both tomorrow,” Lauren said, pulling you into a warm hug. “You did great tonight. Don’t let these guys scare you off.” She winked, glancing briefly at Glen.

With the house quieter, you, Glen, and Leslie remained behind to spend a little more time with his parents. Cyndy brought out another round of cocoa, insisting on adding an extra dollop of whipped cream for everyone.

The fire in the living room had burned low, but Glen Sr. stoked it back to life, filling the room with a warm glow. You took a seat on the couch near the hearth, your fingers curling around the mug of cocoa as you soaked in the comforting crackle of the flames.

The warmth of the fire helped, but the Texas winter chill still lingered, and you found yourself shivering slightly as you sipped your drink.

Glen, sitting in an armchair nearby, noticed immediately. Without a word, he stood and grabbed a thick, soft blanket draped over the back of the couch. Crossing the room, he carefully draped it over your shoulders, his hands lingering for a moment to ensure it was snug around you.

“Better?” he asked softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

You nodded, your heart warming at the small, thoughtful gesture. “Much better. Thank you.”

Instead of returning to his chair, Glen sat down beside you on the couch, the corner of the blanket brushing against his arm as he stretched out. The closeness was both comforting and a little distracting, the ease of his presence pulling you further into the moment.

Across the room, Cyndy and Glen Sr. shared a knowing look, their quiet conversation halting as they observed the two of you. Leslie, seated in the armchair Glen had vacated, leaned over to whisper something to her mom, her expression amused.

Glen Sr. gave a subtle shake of his head, murmuring something you couldn’t quite catch, though his tone held a hint of playful exasperation.

The whispers and exchanged glances didn’t go unnoticed by Glen, who shot his sister a pointed look. “You guys good over there?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Totally,” Leslie replied, a little too quickly, her smile innocent in a way that wasn’t fooling anyone. “Just enjoying the show.”

You glanced between them, confused. “What show?”

“Nothing!” Cyndy said quickly, her tone light but clearly trying to steer the conversation away. “It’s just nice to see Glen bringing a friend home for the holidays.”

You felt your cheeks warm under her gaze, and Glen let out a small sigh, clearly used to his family’s antics.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he said, though his tone was more amused than annoyed.

Leslie smirked but didn’t push further, and Cyndy changed the subject to talk about the Powell family’s Christmas morning traditions.

The room was dimly lit, the fire crackling softly in the background. The evening had settle dinto a quiet calm, with Glen sitting on the couch, his arm stretched across the backrest. Despite your best efforts to stay engaged in the chatter between Glen and his family, your eyelids grew heavier with each passing moment.

Cyndy and Leslie paused mid conversation when they noticed you were asleep. Your breathing was slow and even, your head nestled against Glen like it was the most natural thing in the world. Cyndy and Leslie exchanged a look, both already grinning.

“She’s so sweet,” Cyndy whispered, her voice barely above the crackling of the fire.

“And you’re adorable together,” Leslie added, leaning closer to her mom as if she were sharing a juicy secret.

Glen’s eyes flicked toward them, his lips tugging into a faint, knowing smirk. “We’re just friends,” he said, keeping his voice low to avoid disturbing you.

Leslie arched a brow. “Sure, you are,” she teased, crossing her arms. “Because friends totally look at each other like that.”

“What are you even talking about?” Glen asked, rolling his eyes, though his free hand instinctively adjusted the blanket draped over you, tucking it more securely around your shoulders. You stirred slightly, leaning into him more, and his arm moved without hesitation, wrapping lightly around you to keep you comfortable.

“Like that,” Leslie said pointedly, gesturing at him with a playful smirk.

Cyndy’s eyes were full of warmth as she added, “Leslie’s right, honey. It’s the way you look at her. Like she’s the only person in the room.”

Glen sighed, running a hand through your hair but careful not to jostle you. “I’ve thought about it,” he admitted softly, his gaze dropping to you as you slept peacefully against him. “Probably more than I should have.”

Leslie’s teasing grin shifted into genuine curiosity. “So what’s stopping you?”

“It’s not the right time,” Glen said, his voice low but thoughtful. “My schedule’s insane. The next six to eight months are booked solid with filming, press tours… I’d barely be around. Starting something with her when I know I don’t have the time to make it work or for it to be healthy? It doesn’t feel fair to her. Or to me.”

Cyndy tilted her head, her brows furrowed slightly. “But you’ve managed to keep your friendship going despite all that. You both make time for each other. If you were dating, it wouldn’t be that much different, would it?”

Leslie chimed in, “Exactly. You’ve already proven that you make her a priority, even with everything you’ve got going on. If you really like her—and it’s obvious you do—why not take the chance?”

Glen glanced down at you again, the flickering firelight casting a warm glow across your peaceful face. His arm tightened just slightly around you, as if the thought of letting you go, even metaphorically, was too hard to bear.

He didn’t respond right away, the weight of his family’s words settling in as he watched you. Maybe they had a point. But taking that leap still felt like a mountain he wasn’t sure he could climb—at least not yet.

“I’ll think about it,” he said finally, his voice soft and a little distant.

Leslie opened her mouth, ready to press him further, but Cyndy gave her a gentle nudge and a pointed look. “Let it go, Leslie,” she said quietly. “He’ll figure it out when he’s ready.”

As they turned to leave the room, Cyndy glanced back at Glen one more time, her expression full of motherly understanding. Glen caught her look, gave her a small, grateful nod, and then shifted slightly to settle more comfortably against the couch, his arm still securely around you.

For now, he decided, this moment was enough.

The warmth of the fire flickered softly, casting golden light across the room. Between the gentle crackle of the logs and the soothing rhythm of your breathing, Glen found himself starting to relax in a way he hadn’t in weeks. Your head rested against his shoulder, and the weight of it, combined with the soft rise and fall of your chest, brought an unexpected sense of peace.

Glen shifted slightly, careful not to disturb you, but the movement only made you nestle closer, your arm brushing against his. He glanced down at you, a small smile tugging at his lips. The firelight danced in his eyes as his mind wandered, replaying his mom and Leslie’s words.

She’s sweet.

You’re adorable together.

What’s stopping you?

His gaze lingered on you, and a soft sigh escaped him. He knew what they meant. Knew how easy it would be to let himself fall. Maybe he already had.

The fire crackled again, pulling him from his thoughts. The room was growing quieter, the warmth enveloping him like a cocoon. His head tilted back slightly, his eyes growing heavier with each passing moment. Despite his best efforts to stay awake, the comfort of the moment proved too much.

It wasn’t long before Glen’s breathing matched yours, slow and steady, his chin dipping slightly toward his chest as sleep overtook him. The two of you sat there, heads close, his arm still loosely draped around you while the blanket kept you both warm.

Some time later, Cyndy padded softly into the living room, a smile spreading across her face as she took in the scene. You were still tucked against Glen, your hand now resting lightly against his chest. Glen’s head leaned toward yours, his features relaxed in a way only sleep could bring.

Cyndy stood there for a moment, her heart warming at the sight. She grabbed another blanket from the linen closet and approached quietly, careful not to wake either of you. With practiced ease, she draped it gently over both of you, tucking it around your shoulders before stepping back.

She turned to the fireplace, stoking the remaining embers and making sure it was safely extinguished. The room dimmed as she turned off the lights, leaving only the soft glow of the moon filtering through the curtains.

Before heading to bed, she paused once more, her gaze softening as she looked back at the two of you. A small, knowing smile played on her lips as she shook her head lightly, then whispered to herself, “Just friends, huh?”

With that, she turned and left the room, leaving you and Glen to rest peacefully in the quiet glow of the night.

*****

The soft light of morning filtered through the curtains, casting a faint glow across the living room. Glen stirred, his body shifting slightly against the couch cushion as he blinked groggily, trying to orient himself. His eyes felt heavy, and for a moment, he couldn’t figure out why he felt so warm.

He shifted again, feeling something—or rather, someone—pressed against him. He froze, his heart skipping a beat as he realized he wasn’t alone.

Looking down, he saw you curled into his side, your front pressed snugly against his chest, your legs tangled with his. One blanket was wrapped around you, tucked in as though you’d done it instinctively, and another—one he didn’t even remember grabbing—covered both of you. His arm was draped protectively around you, his hand resting lightly against your back.

Your breath was warm against his neck, soft and even, and he could feel the steady rhythm of your heartbeat where your chest touched his. The realization sent a jolt of awareness through him. How had this happened? The last thing he remembered was sitting upright, with you asleep on his shoulder.

He let his head fall back onto the couch for a moment, exhaling slowly as he tried to make sense of it. Well, this is... comfortable, he thought wryly, though he couldn’t deny the quiet peace that came with waking up next to you.

As his brain started to wake up, he rubbed at his eyes, his other arm instinctively tightening around you as you shifted slightly in your sleep, murmuring something he couldn’t quite make out.

The sound of soft footsteps made him glance toward the archway leading to the kitchen. His parents stood there, his mom holding a coffee mug while his dad held the morning paper.

Cyndy stopped mid-step when she saw the two of you, her lips curling into a knowing smile she didn’t even try to hide. Glen groaned quietly, his free hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck as he looked up at them.

His dad raised an eyebrow, folding his arms across his chest as a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Well, good morning,” his dad said, his tone amused. “Sleep well, son?”

Cyndy swatted his dad lightly on the arm but didn’t say anything, her smile widening as she looked between Glen and you.

Glen cleared his throat, his voice low and rough from sleep. “Morning,” he muttered, trying not to move too much and wake you.

Cyndy stepped closer, lowering her voice. “You looked so peaceful last night. I didn’t have the heart to wake you,” she said, her gaze warm and teasing.

Glen gave her a look, half-exasperated and half-grateful. “Thanks, Mom,” he murmured dryly, though there was no heat in his words.

“You should probably wake her before the others come down,” his dad added with a chuckle, nodding toward the stairs. “Don’t want to give Leslie too much ammunition.”

Glen sighed, his eyes flicking back to you. You were still sound asleep, your face relaxed and peaceful against him. His dad wasn’t wrong—Leslie would have a field day if she saw this.

“Yeah, I’ll handle it,” he said quietly, shifting slightly to try and rouse you without startling you.

Cyndy leaned closer to her husband as they turned to head back to the kitchen, her voice just loud enough for Glen to catch. “I think they’re adorable,” she whispered.

Glen groaned again, though he couldn’t quite hide the small smile tugging at his lips as he looked down at you, still nestled against him.

Glen sighed softly and glanced down at you, his heart doing an odd little flip at the sight of you so peaceful against him. For a moment, he hesitated, not wanting to disturb you. You looked so content, your face relaxed and framed by a strand of hair that had fallen loose.

But his dad was right—he needed to wake you before anyone else saw this and started making jokes he’d never live down.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice low and gentle. He shifted slightly, his hand moving to lightly brush against your shoulder. “Time to wake up.”

You stirred faintly but didn’t open your eyes, your brows furrowing as you shifted closer, burying your face into the crook of his neck. The movement sent a wave of warmth rushing through him, and for a split second, he froze, unsure how to handle the sudden closeness.

“Come on,” he tried again, his voice soft and laced with a hint of amusement now. “You’re going to miss breakfast.”

This time, you let out a soft hum of protest, your voice barely audible as you mumbled, “Five more minutes...”

Glen couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Come on, you need to wake up before the others come downstairs.”

Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of his voice, and it took you a moment to register where you were. When you finally looked up at him, still half-asleep, your cheeks flushed as the realization hit.

“Oh,” you said softly, your voice hoarse with sleep. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to...”

“Don’t worry about it,” Glen cut in quickly, his tone reassuring.

Your eyes dropped to where his arm was still draped around you, and you slowly began to sit up, the blanket falling away as you shifted. Glen helped, his hand steadying you as you moved, though he couldn’t quite hide the slight reluctance he felt at the loss of warmth.

“I, uh... hope I wasn’t too heavy,” you said, brushing a hand through your hair as you tried to smooth it down.

Glen smirked, leaning back against the couch. “You’re fine. But you do steal blankets, apparently,” he teased, motioning to the second blanket draped over him.

You blinked, confused, then looked down at the blanket and frowned. “Wait, where did that even come from?”

“Mom,” he said simply, the corners of his mouth tugging upward. “She came in last night and covered us up. I think she wanted to make sure we didn’t freeze to death.”

Your cheeks reddened further, and you groaned softly, hiding your face in your hands. “Oh, great. So your mom saw us like that?”

“Don’t worry,” he said, reaching out to tug your hands away from your face, his smile softening. “She thought it was cute. So did Dad, for the record.”

“Wonderful,” you muttered, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at your lips now.

Glen watched you for a moment before standing and stretching, his hand running through his hair as he glanced toward the kitchen. “Come on,” he said, offering you a hand. “Let’s get some coffee before Leslie sees us and decides to turn this into a running joke for the next decade.”

You laughed softly, taking his hand as he pulled you to your feet. His touch lingered for just a second longer than necessary before he let go, his gaze flicking to yours briefly before he led the way toward the kitchen.

As you and Glen walked into the kitchen, the rich scent of freshly brewed coffee hit you, immediately comforting in the way that only mornings at someone else's home could be. His parents were already seated at the island, sipping their own coffee, looking up with warm smiles as you entered.

“Good morning, you two,” his dad, Glen Sr., greeted with a grin, his voice low and warm.

“Morning,” you replied softly, moving to grab a mug from the cabinet. Glen’s mom, Cyndy, shot you a look, an almost mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

“Did you sleep well?” she asked, her voice friendly, yet filled with a knowing edge.

You nodded, your face flushing again as you took a seat next to Glen. “Yeah, I did. Thanks for the extra blanket.”

“Of course,” she said with a smile. “I couldn’t have you freezing to death in here.” She paused, her eyes flicking between you and Glen for a moment. “Though, I must say, it was nice to see you both so cozy last night.”

Glen let out an exaggerated groan, shaking his head. “Mom, please.”

You chuckled softly, looking over at him, your hand wrapped around your mug of coffee. “It’s fine,” you said, offering a reassuring smile. “No harm done.”

His dad chuckled, clearly enjoying the moment. “You’re lucky. I don’t see Glen like that much.”

“I bet,” you responded, teasing, taking a sip of your coffee. “I wouldn’t have guessed he’s such a softy.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Cyndy said with a wink, earning a playful nudge from her husband.

Glen rolled his eyes, then leaned back against the counter, his eyes flicking to you. “So, I was thinking we should head back to my place in a bit,” he said, casually stirring his coffee. “We’ll change clothes, then I’ll bring you back here. Sound good?”

You nodded, sipping your coffee again, grateful for the warmth in your hands. “That sounds perfect.”

Leslie walked in at that moment, still wearing her pajamas, her eyes narrowing in on you and Glen still in the clothes you had on yesterday. “Did you guys sleep here last night?”

Glen groaned again, clearly not ready for another round of teasing. “Leslie, please, not now.”

But Leslie was already grinning, turning to their parents. “They fell asleep and slept on the couch, didn’t they?”

“Mind your own business,” Glen said, his voice half-amused, half-annoyed, as he stood up from the counter. He shot a glance at you, his expression softening. “Alright, let’s go grab some things from my place.

As you and Glen walked toward the door, you could hear Leslie's voice rise from the kitchen, her tone laced with playful teasing.

"I mean, it’s so obvious," she said, her voice carrying easily to where you both were standing.

"I heard that, Leslie!" he called out, his voice a mix of annoyance and amusement. "Knock it off."

Leslie’s laugh echoed from the kitchen, followed by a muffled comment you couldn’t quite make out, though you were sure it was another jab at him.

Glen rolled his eyes and shook his head, but there was a softness to his expression when he looked at you. "Sorry about that," he said, his tone light. "She’s relentless."

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a warmth in your chest at how natural this all felt. "It’s fine," you said, chuckling.

He held the door open for you, letting you step out first, his hand brushing against yours as you passed. The drive back to his place was quiet at first, the hum of the engine and the soft sounds of music on the radio filling the space between you. You found yourself glancing out the window, watching the suburbs of Austin pass by as the sun began to rise higher, casting a golden glow over everything.

Glen’s hand rested casually on the steering wheel, his fingers tapping lightly in rhythm with the beat of the song. Every now and then, he’d sneak a glance at you, a slight smile curling on his lips as if something was playing in his mind. You caught him once or twice, but neither of you said much, content to simply exist in the quiet comfort of each other’s company.

Finally, as you turned onto the street leading to his place, Glen broke the silence, his voice low but warm.

“So, what do you think?” he asked, glancing over at you, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. “You’re not regretting agreeing to spend the holidays with my family, are you?”

You smiled, shaking your head. “Not at all. It’s been… nice. Really nice, actually.”

He gave a small, satisfied nod, then pulled into the driveway of his house. As he parked, you both sat there for a moment, the truck gently rocking as the engine turned off.

As you both entered the house, the familiar warmth wrapped around you, making you feel at ease. Glen led the way toward the stairs, his movements easy, casual—like nothing had changed. But you couldn't ignore the shift, the quiet tension that seemed to have settled between you after spending the night curled up together. It wasn’t awkward, not exactly, but it was different. You both seemed a little more aware of each other than before.

"Bathroom's upstairs," Glen said, breaking the silence as he gestured to the staircase. "You can use the guest bathroom, and I'll take the one in my room."

You nodded, following him up the stairs. The house was quiet now, the early morning stillness hanging in the air. When you reached the top, you stopped briefly in front of the guest room. Glen was a few steps ahead of you, but you caught the way his gaze flickered to you for just a moment. His eyes lingered, and you felt the weight of it—the subtle shift you’d both sensed. He quickly looked away, his lips curling into a casual smile, but it wasn’t the same as before. There was something unspoken now, something you couldn’t quite name.

"Alright," Glen said, his voice a little softer than usual. "I’ll meet you downstairs in a bit. Take your time."

You hesitated for a second, feeling the strange pull between you, but nodded and stepped into the guest room. The door clicked shut behind you, and for a moment, you just stood there, the silence pressing in. It wasn’t uncomfortable—just different. You couldn’t help but wonder if he felt it too, that quiet shift in the air, the one that had somehow made the space between you seem just a little smaller.

You shook your head, trying to push away the sudden thoughts swirling in your mind. This was still Glen—your friend. Nothing had changed, right?

But as you started to get ready for your shower, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had.

The hot water helped clear your head, and you focused on the simple task of washing off the sleep from your body. The shower was quick, just a few minutes of cleansing and letting the steam fill the space, but you didn’t want to take too long. Glen was probably already waiting, and you didn’t want to leave him hanging. You turned off the water, stepping out and grabbing the towel from the hook.

As you dried off, you realized your mistake. Your clothes were still in the guest room, neatly folded on the bed. You hadn’t thought that far ahead, assuming you’d just grab them when you finished. You sighed quietly to yourself, wrapping the towel securely around you, careful not to let it slip.

You checked yourself in the mirror for a moment, making sure everything was in place. Satisfied, you opened the bathroom door and stepped out into the hallway, glancing toward the guest room. It felt strange walking across the house like this—towel-clad, with nothing but the soft padding of your bare feet on the floor to accompany you.

You moved as quickly as you could, trying not to draw attention to yourself, but the slight breeze of the air made you acutely aware of just how vulnerable you felt in the moment. When you reached the guest room, you took a quick glance down the hallway, just in case, before slipping inside and closing the door behind you.

You quickly pulled on the clothes you had set out, opting for something comfortable but still presentable. After slipping on a soft sweater and a pair of jeans, you grabbed the brush and ran it through your damp hair. You added a little product, hoping it would hold up for the day, but you didn’t want to stress too much about it. After all, you were just heading downstairs with Glen—nothing too formal.

You took a deep breath and made your way toward the door, hoping the day would continue as smoothly as possible. But as you stepped out of the guest room, you nearly collided with Glen. He was just emerging from his room, his shirt still in his hand, his chest and abs exposed in the moment before he pulled it on. His muscles were defined, his skin still warm from the shower, and you found your gaze involuntarily drifting down for just a moment.

You quickly snapped your eyes away, trying to ignore the rush of heat that flushed your face. You gave a nervous smile, your heart thudding in your chest, and practically rushed past him. Your steps were quick, almost too quick as you hurried down the stairs, praying to some higher power that Glen hadn’t noticed your lingering glance.

The sound of his footsteps following behind you reassured you that he wasn’t focusing on the moment. You let out a quiet breath, hoping you could push the moment from your mind and keep everything normal.

"So, what do you think? Want to hang out here for a bit? Enjoy the quiet before we head back to the chaos?" he asked, his voice casual, but there was an unspoken invitation in his words.

You glanced toward the living room. The cozy, inviting space was practically calling out to you. The thought of staying here, just the two of you, no teasing, no distractions. The idea of getting alone time with Glen was tempting.

But as you stood there, a tug of guilt gnawed at you. You could already picture Glen, laughing and joking with his family, enjoying moments that he didn’t get to have often due to his hectic schedule. He didn’t get much time with them, and you knew that all too well. The last thing you wanted to do was take him away from that, especially when you knew how much he cherished it.

You had more time with him than they did. You saw him regularly, had long conversations over coffee, shared lazy afternoons together on his days off. They were lucky to have him home, and you didn’t want to be the reason he missed out on these rare moments.

The thought of staying here, just the two of you, was appealing, yes—but not at the expense of his family. You didn’t want to be selfish. They didn’t have the luxury of seeing him every day, and you knew that if you stayed, it would be taking away from that time they had.

Finally, you shook your head slightly, offering him a small, apologetic smile. "I think I’d rather head back over," you said, trying to push aside the selfish urge to keep him all to yourself. "You don’t get to see them much, and I don’t want to take that away from you." With a final glance at the quiet room around you, you gave Glen a small smile. "Shall we?" you asked, your voice light, trying to push the lingering tension aside.

He nodded, his smile softening, understanding exactly what you meant. "Yeah, let’s go."

As you followed him to the door, the weight of the quiet moments you shared earlier in the day seemed to hang in the air, but there was something comforting in it. A subtle shift, one you couldn’t quite put your finger on but couldn’t ignore either.

The cool air greeted you as you stepped outside, and the drive back to his parents' house was peaceful, the car filled only with the sound of the engine and the faint rustling of the wind. You both had your own thoughts, but the comfortable silence made it feel like there was no need to fill the space.

When you pulled up to the house again, the familiar warmth of the lights shining from the windows seemed inviting. Glen turned to you before you opened the door, his gaze lingering a little longer than usual. "Thanks for letting me have so much time with them" he said quietly, his voice sincere. "I appreciate you understanding."

You smiled at him, a quiet understanding between you that didn’t need words. "Of course, I know how important they are to you," you replied, giving him a look that was just as much reassurance as it was a soft acknowledgment of the unspoken bond you shared. And with that, the two of you stepped out of the car, ready to head back inside, where the sounds of family laughter awaited.

* * * * *

The warm scent of cookies filled the kitchen as you worked alongside Cyndy, Lauren, and Leslie, mixing dough and rolling it into perfect little balls. The rhythm of your hands, the soft scrape of the spatula against the bowl, was comforting. The kitchen was a cozy flurry of flour, sugar, and laughter.

As you moved the dough onto the baking sheets, the sounds of laughter echoed from the living room. Glen’s voice was unmistakable, full of warmth and joy, accompanied by the high-pitched giggles of the twins. You couldn’t help but smile, a soft chuckle escaping you as you glanced up.

“Seems like he’s a fun uncle,” you commented, rolling the dough into another ball.

Cyndy and Leslie shared a knowing look before Leslie grinned. "Oh, he’s the favorite uncle, hands down," she said, shaking her head with a teasing smile. “I mean, he’s practically a big kid himself when they’re around.”

You laughed, imagining Glen’s easygoing nature blending perfectly with the chaos and energy of his niece and nephew. It was clear that they adored him.

Lauren continued, her tone light and affectionate. “I think the twins might actually think of him as their second dad sometimes. He spoils them rotten."

After a few moments, Glen appeared in the doorway, slightly out of breath but grinning from ear to ear, his hair a bit messy from wrestling with the twins. His cheeks were flushed from the fun, but as soon as his eyes found the cooling rack of freshly baked cookies, he couldn’t resist. He made his way toward it, trying to sneak a cookie without anyone noticing.

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you saw his move. You grabbed the spatula from the counter and, with a quick swipe, playfully swatted at him.

“Don’t even think about it,” you teased, but before you could even get close, Glen’s hand shot out to grab your wrist, stopping the spatula mid-air.

He chuckled, his grip gentle but firm, his fingers brushing against your skin in the briefest of moments. His gaze locked with yours, and for a second, the playful banter seemed to fade as the space between you both felt charged with something a little different.

“Really?” Glen raised an eyebrow, his voice soft with amusement.

You laughed, trying to pull your wrist free, but his hand stayed in place, still holding you with a steady but warm grip. “They aren’t ready yet,” you said, laughing as you tried to wiggle out of his grasp.

The laughter from Cyndy and Leslie behind you broke the moment, and you both turned, noticing their amused expressions.

“Are we interrupting something?” Cyndy asked with a teasing smile.

Leslie, barely containing a grin, raised an eyebrow. “You two are really cute together, you know that?”

You shot her a playful glare, but Glen gave a sheepish chuckle, releasing your wrist and straightening up. “We're just friends,” he said with a lighthearted shrug, though the hint of something unspoken lingered in his tone. “But I am taking one of these cookies.”

Before you could respond, Glen grabbed a cookie from the cooling rack with a victorious grin. You rolled your eyes in mock exasperation as he happily bit into the cookie, clearly pleased with himself.

“You’re lucky I like you,” you said, shaking your head with a smile.

Cyndy and Leslie exchanged a knowing glance, but neither said anything else, letting the moment hang in the air between you two, filled with warmth and an undeniable connection.

Lauren gave Glen a mischievous grin and, without warning, tossed a small pinch of flour in his direction. The flour puffed up in the air, and Glen let out a surprised laugh, his hands immediately going to his hair and face to brush it away.

“Hey!” Glen laughed, glancing around at the chaos unfolding. “You’re going down for that!”

In an instant, the flour fight was on. Leslie, quick on the draw, took the opportunity to sprinkle flour over Glen’s shoulder. He retaliated with a handful of flour that he flung in her direction, his aim slightly off, hitting the edge of the counter instead. You couldn't help but laugh, your hands covered in flour as you tried to avoid getting caught in the crossfire.

Glen shot you a playful look, and before you could duck out of his reach, he tossed a small pinch of flour at you. It landed right on your nose, and you gasped in mock horror.

“Oh, it's on now,” you said, wiping at your nose. “You’re going to pay for that one.”

The kitchen erupted in more laughter as flour and frosting flew between the family members, and before long, the "fight" ended just as quickly as it started, with everyone covered in flour and sugar but still grinning from ear to ear.

You went to wipe the frosting off your cheek, but as your finger brushed over it, you only seemed to smear it further. Glen, watching you with a teasing smile, leaned in slightly, his gaze softening as he shook his head. “You’re just making it worse.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Got a better idea?”

He didn’t say anything at first, just reached for the kitchen towel. His fingers brushed against your chin as he gently took your face in his hands, tilting your head slightly to get a better angle. His thumb carefully wiped away the frosting from your cheek, and you held your breath, caught in the moment, his touch gentle and thoughtful.

“There,” Glen said softly, his eyes still focused on your face. “All better.”

You met his gaze for a moment, feeling something stir inside you. His hand lingered just a little longer than necessary before he dropped it to his side, giving you a sheepish smile.

Glen’s mom, Cyndy, appeared in the doorway, holding a broom in one hand and a Swiffer in the other. She surveyed the flour-coated kitchen with an amused smile, shaking her head at the mess.

“Start cleaning this up, Glen,” she said with a grin, holding out the broom to him.

Glen, still wiping frosting from his hands, gave her a mock salute. “Yes ma’am,” he replied, his voice teasing as he took the broom from her with a sigh.

Cyndy smiled and turned back to the counter, the familiar, easy banter filling the air. “I swear, uou start a food fight every time we bake cookies around here.”

“Hey, I didn’t start it. I was just defending myself,” Glen shot back, sweeping a pile of flour into the dustpan with care.

You glanced over at Glen, a grin tugging at your lips. It was hard not to notice how much he resembled his mom in that moment—easygoing, playful, and always the one tasked with cleaning up after the fun.

“Don’t look so smug, you’ve got your own work to do,” he teased, gesturing at the counter where the remaining cookie dough sat ready to be rolled.

You just laughed and walked over to help Cyndy and Leslie, trying to distract yourself from the small, fleeting moment you’d just shared with Glen.

The kitchen felt warm with laughter and good company as you all continued to work together, and for a moment, everything seemed perfectly in place. Glen was hard at work, and you were right where you wanted to be—with the people who mattered most to him, helping make new memories.

After the cookies were finished and the kitchen was tidied up, the festive energy of the day shifted to the living room, where the Christmas tree stood, waiting to be transformed. Glen’s mom, Cyndy, had made it clear—no tree decorating until everyone, including Glen was home. So, even though Christmas Eve had arrived, the tree still sat untouched, its branches bare, twinkling lights tangled in a mess of cords.

You and Glen made your way to the storage tote, ready to tackle the daunting task of untangling the lights. Glen grinned as he opened the lid, revealing the well-loved decorations inside. "Every year, this takes longer than it should," he muttered, already pulling out a jumble of strings.

"At least you’re here to help now," you teased, grabbing a section of lights and trying to work through the knots. "I’m sure your family appreciates that."

Glen shot you a playful look as he started to untangle his own section. "Yeah, yeah, they know I’m the official light untangler. No one else can be trusted with this responsibility."

You both worked together, your laughter and conversation mixing with the sounds of his sisters in the living room. Cyndy and Leslie were busy sorting through the assortment of ornaments, laying them out in neat piles to be hung on the tree. The occasional clink of glass and soft chatter filled the space as they talked about the best places to hang each ornament.

The mood was lighthearted, and there was a cozy comfort in the room as the tree slowly started to take shape. You glanced over at Glen, catching the familiar glint of mischief in his eyes as he struggled with a particularly stubborn knot.

"Need help there?" you asked with a smirk, leaning closer.

"Nope, I’ve got it," he replied, his voice teasing but also faintly apologetic. "I’m a professional at this by now."

As he worked on the tangled mess, you couldn’t help but notice how the sight of him—focused and determined, yet still making light of the situation—made your heart flutter in a way that was different from before. You shook it off quickly, telling yourself it was just the holiday spirit getting to you.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of struggling with knots and wires, the lights were untangled. You plugged them in to make sure they worked, and sure enough, the tree lit up with a soft glow, casting a warm, comforting light on the room.

Cyndy clapped her hands together with excitement. "Alright, now the fun part! Everyone grab an ornament, let’s make this tree sparkle."

Glen’s sisters eagerly began pulling their favorite ornaments from the piles, each one carefully examined before being placed on the branches. Glen handed you an ornament with a small grin. "I think this one’s for you," he said, handing you a glass star ornament that had a delicate silver shimmer.

As the tree filled with decorations, you couldn’t help but feel the warmth of the moment. It was peaceful and festive, and even with the occasional playful jab from one of Glen’s sisters, you couldn’t deny that it felt right.

Glen stepped back for a moment, surveying the tree as the last few ornaments were added. He gave you a soft smile, and you both exchanged a quiet moment before returning to finish the final touches.

As the final ornaments were being placed, the room seemed to hum with festive energy. The tree was almost done, with the soft glow of the lights reflecting off the glass baubles and tinsel. You stepped back to admire the view when Cyndy, holding the delicate star topper, made her way toward you.

"Here," she said with a warm smile, holding it out to you. "I think you should be the one to put the star on top. After all, you're the special guest this year."

You immediately felt a slight panic. "Oh, no, no, someone in the family should do it," you said, shaking your head, trying to pass the ornament back to her. "This is your tradition."

But Cyndy, always insistent, simply raised an eyebrow and gave you a playful smile. "You’re part of the family now," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. 

Before you could protest any further, Cyndy shot a glance over at Glen, who was leaning casually against the wall, watching with a smile. "Glen, help her up."

Glen’s eyes twinkled mischievously as he moved toward you. "You heard her," he teased, holding out a hand. "Up you go."

You gave him an incredulous look, but there was no backing out now. Glen bent down slightly, motioning for you to climb onto his shoulders. With a deep breath, you carefully moved onto his broad shoulders. Glen straightened up, your legs now on either side of his neck, and you were perched on his shoulders, a little wobbly at first, but he steadied you easily.

"Alright, ready?" he asked, his voice close to your ear, making you feel a little more unsteady than you had been just moments ago.

You nodded, and Glen slowly straightened his back, lifting you higher so you could reach the top of the tree.

With his support, you leaned over carefully, stretching just enough to place the star on top of the tree. You could feel his arms beneath your legs, his grip steady as he held you in place. As you aligned the cord with the top strand of lights, the star clicked into place, and the top of the tree lit up with a soft, radiant glow.

The room seemed to pause for a moment, everyone looking up at the tree as the star twinkled brightly, casting a warm glow over the entire room. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a sense of pride and contentment as you admired the result.

"Perfect," Cyndy said, her voice filled with approval. "It’s beautiful."

As Glen slowly lowered you back to the ground, his hands slid to your waist, steadying you as you regained your footing. You both stood there for a moment, a shared silence settling over you as you looked up at the tree. The lights glowed softly, casting a gentle warmth over the room, and the star at the top shone brilliantly.

The atmosphere was calm, peaceful. You couldn’t help but feel a small flutter in your chest as you stood close to Glen, the warmth of his hands still lingering on your hips. It wasn’t anything overt, just a quiet moment where the connection between the two of you felt more real than ever. The world around you seemed to fade away for a second, leaving only the soft hum of the Christmas tree lights and the quiet of the room.

You both stood there for what felt like an eternity, neither of you saying a word. The only sounds were the soft crackle of the fire in the background and the distant laughter from the others. And then, without warning, Glen seemed to notice the looks from the corner of his eye. Leslie and Lauren were standing at the other side of the room, their eyes fixed on the two of you, their smiles too knowing for Glen’s liking.

Caught in the moment, Glen quickly pulled his hands from your sides, his fingers brushing against your skin just enough to send a small shiver down your spine. He cleared his throat and turned toward the others, trying to act nonchalant.

“Alright, alright,” he said, chuckling awkwardly.

Leslie grinned and gave him a playful wink, but it was Lauren’s knowing smile that lingered in your mind. You and Glen shared a fleeting glance before you both turned to rejoin the others, the moment still hanging between you two.

* * * * *

Later that evening, after the lively chaos of dinner had settled, you found yourself stepping out onto the deck of Glen’s house. The crisp air of the winter evening wrapped around you as you leaned against the railing, a cup of warm tea cradled in your hands. The steam curled up into the cool night, and the soft hum of the distant streetlights was the only sound you could hear. It was a peaceful contrast to the laughter and chatter that had filled the house earlier, and you welcomed the solitude.

As you sipped from your cup, your thoughts drifted back to the night’s events. Glen’s family had been warm and welcoming, and though you could see how much they all cared for him, you couldn’t help but notice the way Cyndy had spoken earlier. It lingered in your mind, that softness in her eyes when she spoke of how much happier Glen seemed since you arrived. It made your chest feel tight, both in a comforting and nerve-wracking way.

The door behind you creaked open, and you turned just as Glen stepped onto the deck. He moved toward you with that familiar easy stride of his, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket. For a moment, he stood beside you, silent, just taking in the night air with you. The way the soft glow of the house lights reflected off his features made him seem almost impossibly handsome in the moment.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low and gentle, as if he knew that his family’s energy could be overwhelming at times. “I know they can be a lot.”

You offered him a soft smile and took another sip of tea, the warmth of the cup soothing against your palms. “I’m enjoying myself, really,” you assured him. “Your family’s great. It’s just... nice to have a little peace and quiet for a moment after everything today, you know?”

Glen gave a small, understanding nod, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than usual. The comfortable silence stretched between you both, but then, as if on cue, a gust of cool air swept across the deck. You couldn’t help but shiver slightly, the chill catching you off guard.

Before you could react, you felt a warmth at your shoulders. Glen’s arm wrapped around you instinctively, pulling you closer to him, the solid feel of his presence comforting against the cool night. His touch, the gentle weight of his arm around you, made your heart race for reasons you couldn’t quite explain. It felt natural, like he was just trying to make sure you were okay—but there was something else there, something unspoken that hummed beneath the surface.

For a brief moment, you thought he might lean in, maybe say something that would break the quiet tension between you. But he didn’t. He just stood there, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him, but not close enough to cross that invisible line.

The silence stretched on, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence where two people simply existed in each other’s presence, the world around them fading away. Still, something about the stillness between you and Glen made you aware of the subtle shift in the air. You glanced up at him, catching the thoughtful, almost distant expression on his face.

“You okay?” you asked, the question slipping out before you could stop it. There was something in his demeanor that made you wonder if something was on his mind, maybe something he wasn’t sharing. He seemed more serious now, the playfulness from earlier replaced by a quiet vulnerability you couldn’t quite place.

Glen turned his head to look at you, blinking as if he had been lost in thought, and then he let out a low chuckle, brushing it off. “You don’t want to know,” he said, his voice light but guarded, as if the answer to your question was something he wasn’t sure he wanted to share.

You raised an eyebrow, a playful grin curling on your lips. “Try me.”

His gaze flickered to yours, and for a second, you could see the flicker of hesitation in his eyes. It was a small thing, but it was there—a brief moment of vulnerability that he quickly masked with a deep breath. He didn’t say anything at first, just looking out at the dark sky, the stars twinkling above.

“I’m just…” He trailed off, then ran a hand through his hair, clearly unsure of how to continue. “I don’t know. Just... thinking about how much things have changed recently.” Glen sighed again, letting out a breath like he was releasing something heavy. “I guess... it’s just been a lot. Work, family... and now you. It’s all good stuff, but it’s a lot to juggle sometimes, you know?” He paused, his words becoming slower as if he were processing something in real-time. “I don’t want to mess things up. With my family, with you...”

The air between you and Glen felt thick with unspoken things, so you did the only thing that felt natural. You shifted slightly, closing the space between you until you were pressed against his chest. Instantly, his arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you in, and you rested your head just beneath his chin, feeling the steady rhythm of his breath against you.

For a brief, fleeting moment, you thought you might’ve felt something—something soft and sweet, maybe even a kiss. But when you lifted your head to look up at him, you realized it wasn’t that at all. He’d just rested his chin on the top of your head, his touch warm and gentle, like a quiet reassurance that you didn’t know you needed until now.

You pulled back a fraction, just enough to tilt your head and meet his eyes. Your fingers brushed against his chest lightly as you took a breath, wanting to say something—anything—that would keep this moment from slipping away.

“You couldn’t possibly mess things up with me,” you assured him, your voice steady but filled with a quiet confidence. You didn’t know why you said it, but you meant it. The last thing you wanted was for Glen to feel like he was doing anything wrong by simply being himself.

Glen laughed softly, though it was a little unsure. “Don’t be so sure about that,” he teased, his voice still carrying that hint of vulnerability beneath the humor. He didn’t let go of you, though—his hands resting lightly on your shoulders, almost like he was grounding himself to you in this moment.

You couldn't help but smile at the mix of playfulness and seriousness in his tone. It was typical of him—strong and self-assured, yet still somehow uncertain when it came to matters of the heart. But the way he was holding you, the way his arms had wrapped around you so naturally—it told you everything you needed to know.

“You’re not as big a mess as you think you are, Glen,” you said, your voice soft, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “At least not when it comes to me.”

Glen smiled back at you, the warmth of it reaching his eyes. The distance between you two, both physically and emotionally, was narrowing with every second.

Another breeze stirred the air, cool against your skin. It caught a strand of your hair, whipping it across your face. You instinctively reached up to brush it away, but before your hand could meet your face, Glen shifted. His fingers grazed your cheek softly, his touch warm as he gently tucked the errant strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered there, resting along your jaw for a heartbeat longer than necessary.

You looked up at him, and in that moment, the world seemed to slow down. His eyes, dark and unreadable, met yours, searching, almost like he was wondering what you were thinking—if you were feeling the same pull he was. His breath caught slightly, the air thick with everything unsaid between you two.

For a long, fragile moment, you were certain neither of you wanted to break the connection, but it was like the world was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. Glen’s fingers lingered on your face, his touch almost electric, and you could feel the heat rising between you.

He parted his lips like he was about to say something—anything—but then stopped. Something held him back, that same hesitation that had kept him quiet, kept him at a distance all evening. His breath faltered, but you could tell he was fighting himself.

The words left you before you could even think twice about them. Soft, barely a whisper, just enough for him to hear: “Kiss me.”

You weren’t sure if he caught it at first. It was so quiet, almost too soft for him to hear. If he didn’t want to, he could easily dismiss it, pretend he hadn’t heard and let the moment pass. The uncertainty and the weight of the words hung between you, like a fragile thread.

But then Glen’s tongue darted out to lick his lips, and the gesture was enough to make your heart race. Without another word, he closed the distance between you, his lips pressing against yours in a kiss that was soft but full of promise. There was no hesitation now, no second-guessing.

The world melted away, and all that remained was the warmth of his mouth, the sweetness of his breath mingling with yours

The world melted away, and all that remained was the warmth of his mouth, the sweetness of his breath mingling with yours. You could taste the hint of his cologne, feel the heat radiating off his skin as his lips gently moved against yours, a quiet but insistent promise.

You reached up, your hands trembling slightly, and grabbed onto the fabric of his shirt, as if grounding yourself in this moment. His touch was everything—strong, steady, and a little desperate, like he was holding on to something precious. One hand found its way to the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair as he gently pulled you closer, his lips urging yours to open. The soft pressure was almost a question, and you answered it without hesitation, your lips parting as his tongue slid in, exploring you with slow, deliberate movements.

The kiss deepened, and everything else faded. His free hand moved to your waist, pulling you against him, making you feel the undeniable heat of his body. The way he held you tightly, possessively, ignited a spark inside you that set your skin on fire. You felt every inch of him, the strength in his arms, the warmth of his chest pressed against yours, his heart racing in time with yours.

Without breaking the kiss, he gently pushed you back, guiding you until you were pinned between his solid body and the railing behind you. You could feel the cool metal against your back, the contrast of it to the heat radiating from him, but it only made the moment more intense, more real.

His mouth never left yours, and you were lost in it—lost in the way he kissed you, in the way he made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered in that instant. His tongue moved against yours, a slow, sensual dance that sent shivers down your spine. He was patient but relentless, as if he couldn't get close enough, as if he wanted to drown in this feeling, in the taste of you.

For a moment, you lost yourself completely in him. The kiss became everything—the way his lips molded to yours, the heat of his body pressed against yours, and the deep, almost desperate need that surged between you. It was as if nothing else in the world existed but the two of you.

When he finally pulled back, just enough to let you both catch your breath, his forehead pressed to yours, his breath ragged. He didn't let go, his hands still on your waist, his body so close you could feel the warmth of him seeping into you. His eyes searched yours, almost like he was asking for permission, or maybe trying to figure out what this meant.

Glen took a slow, deliberate step back, his hands lingering for just a second longer than necessary on your waist, as if reluctant to let go. His gaze locked with yours, still heavy with unspoken words and that same intensity that hung thick in the air. His lips parted slightly, as if he might say something, but the moment lingered—unsaid, just like everything else that had passed between you two.

He reached down, his fingers brushing against yours, and when he grasped your hand, it felt grounding, but at the same time, like a promise. He gently pulled you inside, his touch still warm against your skin, the heat from the kiss still lingering between you.

You stepped closer to him, his hand never leaving yours, and the world outside seemed to fade away once more. The air was different inside—charged in a way that made everything feel more intimate, more real. Glen glanced at you over his shoulder, a subtle smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, his eyes dark with something unreadable, something that only added to the tension building between you.

And then, with a quiet, almost playful tug, he led you further into the house, closing the door softly behind you. 

* * * * *

You stirred slowly, the warmth of the bed and the soft, rhythmic press of Glen’s lips against your shoulder coaxing you out of sleep. His gentle kisses trailed up to your collarbones, each one sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. The sensation was soft, tender—like he was savoring the moment, as if he didn’t want to break the stillness of the morning.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, your eyes fluttering open just enough to catch the sight of him—his face only inches from your skin, eyes closed in quiet reverence. His arm tightened around you, pulling you closer as though you were the only thing anchoring him to this moment. It felt so natural, so right, that you could almost forget it was Christmas morning.

With a soft sigh, you rolled onto your back, the bed creaking slightly as you shifted. You turned your head, your gaze meeting his. He hadn’t noticed you were awake, his lips still lightly grazing your skin, his breath warm against your neck.

A small, sleepy smile tugged at the corners of your lips, unable to hide the happiness bubbling up inside you. It was a moment of peace, of simplicity, and you knew it was one you’d carry with you for a long time.

When Glen finally met your eyes, his expression softened, a quiet tenderness in his gaze that made your heart flutter in your chest. He leaned in again, pressing a kiss to your lips, brief but full of meaning. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered, his voice low and rough from sleep.

“Merry Christmas,” you whispered back, your fingers gently brushing against his cheek, the moment feeling so intimate, so perfect.

Just as you were starting to drift back into the peaceful warmth of the moment, Glen’s phone rang, breaking the silence. He groaned and reached for it, clearly annoyed by the interruption. "Not now," he muttered, glancing at the screen and seeing it was Leslie calling.

"Seriously?" you teased, raising an eyebrow. "She can’t let us have five more minutes?"

Glen chuckled, though it was laced with mock frustration. "Guess not. She probably wants us to hurry up and join the rest of the chaos." He answered the call and put it on speaker, letting out another groan. "Leslie, it’s Christmas morning, cut me some slack."

You heard her voice, cheerful but insistent. "Yeah, I know, but you need to get over here! We’re all waiting for you to start the presents."

Glen rubbed a hand over his face, looking over at you with a grin. "Alright, alright. We’ll get up and head right over."

But Leslie, ever the sharp one, picked up on the tone in his voice. "Wait a second," she said with a teasing smirk in her voice. "You said ‘we’ll’ get up? So that means... you’re both still in bed?"

You felt Glen stiffen, his eyes locking onto yours as the corners of his mouth twitched. Before he could respond, Leslie continued, sounding far too smug for 8 AM. "And she’s with you, huh? In your room?"

Glen groaned dramatically, putting a hand to his forehead. "Leslie, it’s too early for this," he muttered, clearly embarrassed by the line of questioning.

Leslie wasn’t letting up, though. "Oh, I get it," she said in a sing-song voice, a little too amused for her own good. "I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’"

Glen looked at you, mouthing, "I’m gonna kill her."

He sighed, sitting up on the bed, clearly trying to change the subject. "Okay, okay. We’ll be over soon, alright? Stop prying."

"Sure, sure. Just don’t take too long, or I might have to send Mom in there to drag you both out," Leslie teased before hanging up with a cheerful goodbye.

Glen, still looking mildly exasperated, dropped the phone onto the bed. He laughed and leaned back against the headboard, stretching his arms over his head. "Alright, guess we should get up and face the madness."

You and Glen exchanged sleepy smiles as you both began to rise from the bed. Glen stretched his arms overhead, letting out a long yawn, before he slipped on his slippers and headed toward the bathroom. You turned toward the guest room, mentally running through the few things you had to do to get ready for the day.

As you dressed, you couldn't help but replay last night in your head—the kiss, the closeness, the way it felt like the world had just slipped away, leaving only the two of you. But now, in the cold light of morning, you couldn’t shake the uncertainty that lingered. What did it mean? What were you to Glen after everything that had happened? Your heart raced as the thought crossed your mind. Was this something you were supposed to talk about? Or would it be just another fleeting moment, like so many others in the past?

You finished getting dressed, smoothing your shirt and running your fingers through your hair, trying to calm the nerves that had appeared out of nowhere. When you stepped out of the guest room, you found Glen already ready, his jacket on and his keys in hand. He was standing by the door, waiting for you.

He gave you a soft smile when he saw you. "Ready?" he asked, his voice warm but with an edge of hesitation that matched how you were feeling.

You nodded, trying to brush off the unease. "Yeah.”

You followed him to the truck, your mind still racing with questions. The drive was quiet at first, the hum of the engine filling the space between you. As you passed the familiar landmarks, your eyes wandered to Glen, who was focused on the road. You wanted to ask him everything, to know where the two of you stood after everything, but you didn’t want to make things awkward.

Finally, Glen broke the silence. “I’ve been thinking,” he started, his voice steady but quiet. He glanced at you for a moment before turning his focus back to the road. “About last night. About us.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Yeah?” you prompted softly, unsure of where he was going with this.

He let out a breath, his lips curving into a faint, almost self-conscious smile. “Look, I know my life isn’t exactly… simple. My schedule is a mess, and I’m gone a lot. I don’t want to pretend like that’s not going to be a challenge. But,” he paused, his voice growing more certain, “I want to see where this goes. With you. If you’re willing to, that is.”

For a moment, the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you. You could hear the nervous edge in his voice, the way he shifted slightly in his seat like he wasn’t sure how you’d respond.

You let the weight of his words settle over you before you replied. “I’m willing to,” you said, your voice soft but sure. “I wouldn’t have let last night happen if I wasn’t.”

A flicker of relief crossed his face, and he smiled—an honest, open kind of smile that made your chest feel warm. He reached over, his hand finding yours where it rested on your lap. His touch was gentle but firm, like he was grounding himself in this moment.

“Okay,” he said, his thumb brushing lightly against the back of your hand. “Then we’ll figure it out. Whatever it takes.”

You squeezed his hand, your heart lighter now, but the lingering uncertainty still hung between you. “So, what do we do about your family?” you asked, tilting your head toward him. “Do we tell them, or…?”

He sighed, his lips quirking in a wry smile. “That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?” His fingers tapped against the steering wheel, his mind clearly turning over the possibilities. “Part of me thinks it’s better to just get it out there. But another part of me… I don’t want to make today about us when it’s supposed to be about family.”

You nodded, understanding his hesitation. “We don’t have to decide right now,” you offered. “Let’s just see how the day goes.”

Glen smiled again, his gaze soft as it flicked toward you. “Yeah, that sounds like a plan.”

The rest of the drive was filled with a sense of quiet anticipation, the air between you lighter now but still charged with the potential of what was to come. Glen didn’t let go of your hand the entire way, and you couldn’t help but feel that, no matter what, the two of you were in this together.

Glen stepped inside first, his hand still firmly clasping yours as he guided you over the threshold. The sound of laughter and conversation spilled from the living room, filling the house with the unmistakable hum of family.

Glen paused just inside the door, turning to face you. His hand lingered in yours for a moment before he gently released it, reaching instead to help you shrug off your coat. His fingertips brushed lightly against your arms as he slid the thick material off your shoulders. You glanced up at him, catching the faint smile tugging at his lips.

"Thanks," you murmured, offering him a small smile of your own as he hung your coat on the nearby rack.

He gave a slight nod. "Anytime," he replied, his voice low and quiet, just for you.

With that, you made your way toward the living room, Glen trailing close behind. The sight that greeted you was as welcoming as the sounds and smells: his entire family gathered around the tree, mugs of steaming coffee and hot cocoa in hand, their laughter blending with the soft crackle of the fireplace.

"Well, there they are!" Leslie called out, her grin widening as she spotted the two of you.

At her words, all eyes turned to you and Glen. You felt a momentary flush of warmth—not from embarrassment, but from the sheer warmth of the welcome in their gazes. Glen’s mom was the first to rise, crossing the room to pull you into a gentle hug.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” she said, her voice as soft and kind as ever.

“Merry Christmas,” you replied, smiling as you returned the hug.

Glen hung back for a moment, his gaze sweeping over his family before it landed back on you. When his mom released you, he stepped forward to exchange his own hugs and greetings, his presence grounding you in the lively room.

As you settled into the living room, Leslie’s sharp eyes darted between you and Glen, a knowing glint lighting her expression. “You two look cozy,” she teased, raising an eyebrow.

Glen shot her a warning look but didn’t rise to her bait. Instead, he placed a steadying hand on your back as he guided you toward an empty spot on the couch. “It’s still too early for your commentary, Les,” he said dryly, though there was a faint smile tugging at his lips.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly as you sat down, feeling Glen’s hand linger for just a moment longer than necessary before he joined you. The family resumed their chatter, and you felt yourself relax into the warmth of the room and the easy dynamic Glen had with his family.

There was an unspoken understanding between you and Glen as the morning unfolded. Whatever the day might bring, you were in this together, and that made everything—his teasing siblings, the bustling energy, the unrelenting sense of closeness—feel a little less overwhelming and a lot more like home.

The morning carried on with a joyous rhythm, the room buzzing with laughter and the crinkling of wrapping paper as Glen’s mom began handing out gifts from beneath the tree. One by one, brightly wrapped packages found their way into eager hands, and the sound of tearing paper soon filled the room.

You found yourself nestled comfortably on the couch beside Glen, warmth radiating from his side. At some point, almost without thinking, you leaned into him, resting your head lightly on his shoulder. His arm instinctively came up to wrap around you, pulling you just a little closer.

The moment felt effortless, like breathing, and you let yourself savor the comfort of it.

Unfortunately, it didn’t go unnoticed.

“Ohhh, would you look at that?” Leslie’s voice rang out, her tone dripping with mischief.

Your head snapped up, a blush creeping up your cheeks as you realized all eyes were now on you and Glen. His parents exchanged exaggerated grins while his older sister’s gaze softened with a mix of joy and curiosity.

“Well, this is new,” somebody teased.

Glen let out a long-suffering groan, running a hand over his face. “Can we not make this a thing?” he muttered, though there was no real heat in his voice.

Leslie was undeterred, her grin widening as she leaned forward. “Oh, no, this is absolutely a thing. Care to share with the group, Glen?”

He sighed, glancing at you. The flush on your cheeks deepened, but there was no judgment or pressure in his expression—only quiet reassurance.

Finally, he turned back to his family, his shoulders squaring as if bracing himself. “Fine. Yes, we’re… seeing where things go,” he admitted, his voice steady but soft. “And that’s all you’re getting out of me right now.”

His mom clasped her hands together, her face lighting up like the tree behind her. “Oh, Glen,” she said warmly, her joy unmistakable.

The teasing and comments came in waves after that, a mix of playful ribbing and heartfelt congratulations. You felt your face grow impossibly warm, but Glen’s arm around you tightened, grounding you.

Eventually, Glen turned to his family with a pointed look. “Okay, you’ve had your fun. Can we get back to the presents now?”

Leslie laughed but relented, reaching for another package beneath the tree. As the room shifted back to its lively rhythm, Glen leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah. Are you?”

His eyes softened, and he gave a slight nod. “Yeah.”

And as the morning carried on, the lively chatter and laughter of his family surrounded you, filling the room with warmth. Glen’s arm stayed comfortably around you, an anchor amidst the joyful chaos. For the first time in a long time, you felt at ease—like you belonged, not just in this house but at his side.

Whatever this was, whatever it might become, one thing was clear: this was the beginning of something worth holding onto.

[queenofwands89]

Stolen Hearts and Cuddles

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Reader

Summary: While cuddling, Jake tells Y/N that she made him believe in love at first sight.

Warning: Tooth rotting fluff.

Notes: Hello, this is my first Jake fic. I just watched twisters with my family last week, and it got me back in my Glen Powell feels (Always been down bad for him the movie just reignited that spark lmao), so yeah I hope you enjoy byeeee.

The sun has set, and the soft glow from the table lamp casts a warm, cozy light across the living room. You’re nestled together on the plush leather couch, your head resting on Jake's chest as you listen to the gentle hum of the city outside your window. The faint aroma of popcorn lingers in the air, remnants of your impromptu movie night.

Jake's arm is draped protectively around you, his fingers tracing absent-minded patterns on your shoulder. You find solace in these moments – the simplicity of being close to him, away from the chaos of the naval base and the pressure of his duties as a aviator.

“Y’know,” Jake's voice breaks the comfortable silence, a confident lilt even in his softer moments, “I used to think love at first sight was just a myth. A fairytale people tell themselves to make life seem a little more magical.”

Tilting your head slightly, you look up at him, your curious eyes meeting his green, mischievous yet earnest gaze. “Oh really?” you tease, a playful smile dancing on your lips. “The great Lieutenant Jake Seresin, charmer extraordinaire, didn’t believe in love?”

A chuckle rumbles from his chest, making you vibrate with the sound. “Hard to believe, huh?” he smirks. “But yeah, I was always about the next mission, the next challenge. Love seemed like a distraction.”

Your fingers play with the hem of his navy blue T-shirt, your touch sending electric shivers down his spine. “So, what changed?” you ask softly, genuinely intrigued.

Jake’s expression softens, the cockiness melting away to reveal the depth of his feelings. He gently cups your face with his hand, his thumb caressing your cheek. “You,” he says simply. “You changed everything.”

Your heart flutters at his words, and you lean into his touch, feeling the warmth of his palm against your skin. “How?” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

Jake’s eyes lock with yours, reflecting a sincerity that’s often hidden behind his confident exterior. “The first time I saw you, it felt like someone had flipped a switch inside me. Suddenly, life wasn't just about flying high and chasing adrenaline. It was about finding a way to keep you by my side, to protect you, to love you.”

He takes a deep breath, as if steadying himself to say something deeply personal. “You didn’t just capture my attention, Y/N. You stole my heart. Completely and irrevocably. And for the first time, I realized that love isn’t a distraction. It’s what makes all the risks worth taking.”

You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, your emotions welling up at his heartfelt confession. “Jake…” you begin, but he gently hushes you, his gaze soft yet intense.

“I’m serious, Y/N. You’re my everything. My whole world. The one I’d sacrifice everything for,” he continues, his voice filled with unwavering conviction. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as your lips meet in a tender, passionate kiss. Each touch, each breath seems to reaffirm your bond, a silent promise of the future you will build together.

When you finally pull away, you rest your forehead against his, your heart racing. “I love you, Jake. More than words can say.”

“I love you more baby,” he replies, his voice a soft murmur in the intimate space you share. “More than you could ever know.”

You settle back into his comfortable embrace, the weight of the world outside disappearing as you lose yourself in each other. In that moment, in the safety of your love, you find a tranquility you have never known before.

As you drift off to sleep, the world outside continues to spin, but for you and Jake, your universe is right there on that couch – wrapped in each other's arms, in a cocoon of stolen hearts and unyielding love.

[crossfandomskylines]

In the Space Between: Chapter 23

OTHER CHAPTERS:

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5

Chapter 6 I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 I Chapter 9 I Chapter 10

Chapter 11 I Chapter 12 I Chapter 13 I Chapter 14 I Chapter 15

Chapter 16 I Chapter 17 I Chapter 18 I Chapter 19 I Chapter 20

Chapter 21 I Chapter 22

Pairing: Glen Powell x OC

Summary: Glen and Gabby try to make the most of the last few hours they have together before another five weeks apart.

Word Count:8.7k

A/N: As always please let me know what you think with Hearts, Comments, and Reblogs. I love seeing your thoughts on this story as it progresses!

Glen eased the car into the garage of his Los Angeles home, the soft hum of the engine fading as he turned off the ignition. The intimate quiet that followed seemed to mirror the shift in Gabby’s mood. She’d been quieter since dinner, her thoughts clearly preoccupied. He unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out, circling the car to her side.

When he opened her door, Gabby glanced up, offering him a small smile. Glen returned it warmly and extended a hand. 

“Come on,” he said softly, his tone inviting and grounding at once. 

She placed her hand in his, letting him help her out of the car. Her fingers felt light in his grip, and as she stood, he didn’t let go right away.

“You’ve been a little quiet since we left,” Glen said gently, his eyes scanning her face as he shut the car door with his free hand. “Talk to me, Gabs.”

She hesitated, her gaze flickering to the ground. “I’m fine,” she replied softly, though the slight crack in her voice betrayed her.

Glen tilted his head, studying her. He shifted closer, brushing a strand of hair away from her cheek. “You’re thinking about tonight, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice so quiet it was almost a whisper. He didn’t need to clarify—he meant his flight. The thing neither of them had wanted to think about during their evening together.

Gabby’s eyes darted up to meet his, filled with a mix of vulnerability and something she couldn’t quite name. “I just—” She paused, biting her lip. “I wish you didn’t have to leave.”

He stepped even closer, his hand moving to cup her cheek. “Hey,” he murmured, leaning in until his forehead nearly touched hers. “I’m still here. I’m right here with you.”

Before she could respond, Glen closed the distance, capturing her lips in a kiss that was as much a reassurance as it was an expression of everything he couldn’t put into words. His free hand rested on her hip, grounding her, holding her in place as if to remind her she wasn’t alone in her thoughts.

When he pulled back, he lingered close, his lips brushing hers as he spoke. “We’ve still got time, Gabby. Let’s not waste it worrying about tomorrow, okay?”

As they stepped inside Glen’s house, the warmth enveloped them, a stark contrast to the cool evening air. Gabby let out a soft sigh, still wrapped in Glen’s jacket. 

“Now, how about I get you something to drink, and we make the most of the rest of our night?”

Gabby nodded, her smile growing. “That sounds perfect.”

Glen disappeared into the kitchen while Gabby sank onto the couch, savoring the cozy atmosphere of his home. A moment later, he returned with a soda in his hand—the exact brand and flavor she always seemed to gravitate toward. Gabby couldn’t help but smile as he handed it to her, the small gesture hitting her right in the heart.

“You keep this here just for me, don’t you?” she asked playfully, popping open the can.

Glen shrugged with a smug grin. “Maybe. Gotta be prepared if you come over, right?”

Gabby laughed softly, shaking her head. “You’re something else.”

He perched on the arm of the couch beside her, his gaze dropping to her dress. “You want to change into something comfortable?” he asked casually.

She glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “Change into what? I don’t exactly have clothes here.”

His lips curled into a smirk, and he leaned down slightly, meeting her gaze. “You can borrow some of mine,” he offered.

Her eyes lit up, and a smile tugged at her lips and she nodded in agreement and stood up, cradling the soda in her hands.

Glen led her down the hall toward his bedroom, his arm brushing hers as they walked. 

When they arrived at his room, Glen disappeared into the walk-in closet, leaving Gabby standing near the edge of the bed. She glanced around the room, taking in the cozy yet masculine decor—a blend of soft gray tones, dark wood furniture, and personal touches like framed photos and a guitar propped in the corner. Her thoughts were momentarily interrupted as Glen returned, holding a neatly folded pair of sweatpants and one of his t-shirts.

“These should be comfy,” he said, offering her the clothes.

Gabby reached for them, but before she could take the bundle, Glen’s hand brushed hers, lingering. “Do you want help with the dress?” he asked softly, his eyes locking on hers.

Her breath caught, a blush creeping up her neck. She nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Okay.”

Glen set the clothes on the bed and stepped behind her, his fingers gently brushing her hair over one shoulder. He found the zipper at the back of her dress, pulling it down with careful precision. The fabric loosened, slipping slightly over her shoulders.

“You okay?” he murmured, his voice close to her ear.

Gabby nodded, swallowing hard as the dress slipped further. “Yeah,” she whispered.

Glen’s hands moved to her shoulders, guiding the straps of the dress down her arms with an almost reverent touch. The dress pooled at her feet, leaving her in nothing but her strapless bra and matching panties. She felt exposed but safe, her heart pounding as she turned to face him.

His gaze swept over her slowly, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. 

“You’re stunning,” he finally managed, his voice thick with emotion.

Gabby’s breath hitched, and before she could overthink it, Glen closed the space between them. His hands framed her face as his lips found hers in a kiss that was both urgent and deeply tender. Her arms looped around his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, her body pressing against his.

Glen’s hands began to roam, sliding down her sides and resting at her waist, his thumbs brushing the bare skin just above the waistband of her panties. The heat between them grew, his kisses trailing down her jaw to the sensitive spot just below her ear.

“Glen,” Gabby whispered, her voice a mix of want and hesitation.

He pulled back slightly, his forehead pressing to hers as he breathed heavily. “We don’t have to,” he said softly, his hands steadying her.

Gabby searched his eyes, finding nothing but patience and love in his expression. Slowly, she nodded. “I want this,” she whispered.

A small smile played on Glen’s lips before he leaned in, capturing her mouth in another kiss, this one even more charged with emotion.

Gabby’s fingers trembled slightly as she reached up to the first button of Glen’s shirt. Her eyes stayed locked on his as she worked her way down, unfastening each one slowly, deliberately. With every button undone, more of his chest was revealed, the warmth of his skin brushing against her fingertips.

When she reached the last button, Glen shrugged the shirt off his shoulders in one fluid motion, letting it fall to the floor without breaking the kiss.

Her hands moved instinctively to the hem of the white undershirt he was wearing, her fingers slipping beneath the soft fabric to graze the firm muscles of his abdomen. She hesitated for only a moment, then began to push the shirt upward.

Glen’s lips stilled against hers, and he pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. There was something unspoken in the way his eyes searched hers, a mix of desire and tenderness. She gave him a small, reassuring nod, and he gripped the back of his shirt, tugging it over his head in one quick motion.

The undershirt joined the pile on the floor as Glen’s hands found her waist again. He pulled her close, his body pressing against hers, and the heat between them grew. Gabby let out a soft, breathy sigh as her hands roamed across his chest, tracing the lines of muscle and the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm.

“You have no idea how much I want you,” Glen murmured, his voice husky as he leaned down to capture her lips again.

Gabby melted into the kiss, her arms wrapping around his neck as her body molded to his. She felt the strength in his embrace, the way his hands splayed against her lower back, holding her as if she might disappear.

Time seemed to stand still as the kiss deepened, each moment more intoxicating than the last. Glen’s hands began to roam again, exploring the curve of her hips and the bare skin of her back, his touch sending sparks of electricity through her.

Glen’s lips left hers, trailing a line of slow, deliberate kisses along her jaw and down to the curve of her neck. Gabby tilted her head instinctively, giving him more access as her breath hitched in anticipation.

His mouth moved lower, pressing soft kisses to her collarbones, his stubble grazing her skin and leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Gabby’s hands clung to his shoulders, steadying herself as his lips reached the edge of her dress.

Glen’s fingers brushed against the straps of her bra, slipping them down her shoulders with a practiced ease. His lips followed, kissing the newly exposed skin as he reached around her back. With a gentle tug, the clasp came undone, and Glen slid the fabric away, letting it fall to the floor to join the growing pile at their feet.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes roaming her form with an intensity that made Gabby’s cheeks flush. Gabby felt a rush of warmth, her hands instinctively moving to cover herself, but Glen caught her wrists gently, guiding her hands away. 

“Don’t,” he whispered, his gaze locking with hers. “Let me see you.”

As her arms fell back to her sides, Glen reached up, his hands caressing her sides before sliding upward. His palms cupped her, his touch firm yet gentle, and Gabby’s breath hitched as his thumbs brushed over her skin.

He leaned down again, his lips grazing the curve of her chest before pressing soft kisses there. Every touch, every kiss, was deliberate, as if he was savoring every inch of her. Gabby’s hands found their way into his hair, her fingers tangling in the soft strands as she let herself get lost in the moment.

Glen’s hands slid down to Gabby’s waist, his fingers pressing lightly against her skin. Without breaking their kiss, he shifted, wrapping one arm around her lower back. Gabby gasped softly as she felt herself being lifted effortlessly off the floor, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck for support.

His other hand moved to the back of her thigh, gripping her firmly as he carried her toward the bed. Gabby’s heart raced as she felt the warmth of his hand against her skin, his strength both grounding and exhilarating.

When they reached the edge of the bed, Glen leaned forward, gently lowering her onto the soft mattress. Gabby’s breath caught as he hovered above her, his lips capturing hers in another searing kiss before trailing down her neck and over her collarbones.

Slowly, his mouth continued its descent, leaving a trail of kisses down the curve between her chest. Gabby shivered beneath his touch, her hands instinctively finding his shoulders as his lips reached her stomach.

Glen paused for a moment, his fingers tracing the soft skin just above the waistband of her panties. His lips followed, brushing feather-light kisses along the edge, his stubble grazing her in a way that sent sparks skittering down her spine.

He glanced up at her then, his eyes meeting hers in a way that made her heart skip. “You okay?” he murmured, his voice low and full of care.

Gabby nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

Glen smiled softly, his hands sliding along her hips as he kissed her skin once more, his touch both tender and electrifying as he continued to explore her with reverence.

Glen’s lips lingered against the curve of Gabby’s stomach before he pulled back just slightly, his gaze drifting down her body. A soft, appreciative smile tugged at his lips as his hands gently rested on her hips. 

“Red,” he murmured, his voice thick with admiration, “is definitely your color.”

Gabby felt her cheeks flush, her breath hitching at the way he looked at her—as if she were the most captivating thing he’d ever seen.

His fingers found the delicate waistband of her lace panties, hooking into the fabric with a deliberate slowness. He kept his eyes locked on hers as he began to slide them down, his movements unhurried and careful, as though savoring every moment.

The soft material brushed over her thighs, then past her knees, before he pulled them completely off and let them fall to the floor, joining the growing pile of their discarded clothes. His hands smoothed back up the length of her legs, his touch warm and reverent, until they settled at her waist again.

Glen leaned down, brushing a kiss just above her hipbone, and then another, his stubble grazing her skin. 

“Beautiful,” he whispered against her, the word so soft it was almost inaudible.

Gabby’s breath came in shallow waves, her hands instinctively reaching for him, threading through his hair as her heart raced. 

Glen’s lips found the soft skin of Gabby’s inner thigh, planting gentle kisses there that sent sparks through her body. His hands caressed her hips, holding her steady as his mouth began a slow, torturous journey up her thigh. His stubble grazed her sensitive skin, adding an extra layer of sensation that made her shiver.

He kissed a path higher, closer to where she wanted him most, but just as she thought he might give her what she was silently begging for, his mouth moved to the opposite thigh, starting the same agonizingly slow progression.

Gabby let out a frustrated whine, her hips instinctively lifting toward him in search of relief. “Glen,” she murmured, her voice laced with both desperation and need.

The sound of her voice made him pause, lifting his gaze to meet hers with a smirk playing on his lips. 

“Patience, baby,” he teased, his tone light but filled with promise.

Her hands found their way to his hair, tugging lightly in protest, and he chuckled softly, the vibrations of his laugh brushing against her skin.

“You’ll get what you want,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to the sensitive spot just below her hipbone, “but I’m going to take my time.”

His lips returned to her thigh, this time with more intent. He kissed and lightly sucked on the delicate skin, leaving faint marks in his wake as Gabby squirmed beneath him. Her whines grew more insistent, her body arching toward him as if trying to guide him to where she needed him.

“Glen,” she breathed again, her voice trembling.

He smiled against her skin, brushing one last kiss to her thigh before finally, slowly, moving closer.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, his voice a low rumble. 

He finally leaned in and gave Gabby what she so desperately wanted. The first touch of his tongue against her sent a shockwave through her, her body arching instinctively off the bed as a soft gasp escaped her lips.

Her head fell back against the covers, her fingers tightening in the fabric as she struggled to process the overwhelming sensation. Every slow, deliberate movement of his tongue drew a new sound from her, each one more desperate than the last.

“Glen,” she murmured, her voice shaky and filled with breathless awe. He hummed against her in response, the vibration adding another layer to the already unbearable pleasure coursing through her.

Her hand found its way to his hair again, her fingers tangling in the soft strands as if she needed something to anchor herself. Glen didn’t stop, his movements steady and precise as he worked her closer and closer to the edge.

“Taste incredible,” he murmured between kisses, his voice muffled but full of admiration.

Gabby’s breath hitched, her body reacting to every word, every touch. Her mind was hazy, consumed entirely by the sensation of him. Nothing else existed—just Glen, his touch, his warmth, and the way he was unraveling her so completely.

Glen's lips curved into a faint smile against her skin as he brought one hand up, his fingers gently brushing over her thigh before slipping between her legs to join the efforts of his tongue. 

Gabby’s breath hitched sharply, her fingers gripping his hair tighter as her hips moved instinctively toward him. Every touch, every flick of his tongue and glide of his fingers, pushed her closer to the edge, her body trembling under his meticulous attention.

“Glen,” she gasped, his name tumbling from her lips like a prayer. Her voice was breathless and unsteady, the sound of it only spurring him on.

His hand adjusted slightly, finding just the right rhythm, his fingers curling in a way that had her toes curling against the bed. Her moans grew louder, more desperate, as the pressure inside her built to an almost unbearable peak.

“Come for me, baby,” he murmured against her, his voice low and full of awe. The vibrations of his words sent another shiver through her, and she could feel herself teetering on the brink.

Her breaths came in shallow gasps, her head rolling back against the covers as her body tensed. She was so close, every nerve in her body alive and reaching for release, and Glen could feel it.

“Let go, Gabs,” he said softly, his voice coaxing and tender.

Gabby’s entire body tensed, her back arching off the bed as the waves of release crashed over her. A soft cry escaped her lips, her hands clutching Glen’s hair as her head fell back into the covers. The intensity of it left her trembling, every nerve alive and pulsing as the feeling washed through her in powerful, consuming waves.

Glen didn’t stop, his mouth and fingers moving gently now, guiding her through her release with tender precision. He pressed soft kisses to her inner thighs as her breathing began to slow, his touch light and soothing as her body relaxed beneath him.

When she finally stilled, her chest rising and falling in deep breaths, Glen shifted. He pressed one final kiss to her hip before crawling up onto the bed beside her.

Gabby turned her head toward him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes still half-lidded as she met his gaze. Glen’s lips curved into a soft smile as he reached up, his hand brushing a strand of hair from her face. He cupped her cheek, his thumb gliding over her skin in slow, comforting strokes.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice low and full of warmth.

Gabby let out a breathless laugh, her lips curving into a small, bashful smile. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she whispered, her voice still tinged with the aftermath of what he’d just done to her.

Glen’s smile widened, and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “How’re you feeling?” he asked softly, his thumb continuing its slow, soothing caress.

“Like I might float away,” she admitted, her voice light with a mix of wonder and contentment.

Glen chuckled, his hand slipping from her cheek to tangle gently with hers. “Then I’ll make sure to hold you down,” he teased, his voice playful but his eyes still tender.

Gabby smiled softly at Glen, her fingers brushing lightly over his as she squeezed his hand one more time before releasing it. She sat up slowly, her body still tingling from the intensity of her release, but her focus now shifting entirely to him.

Without saying a word, she slid off the edge of the bed and sank gracefully to her knees in front of him, her hands coming to rest on his thighs. Glen’s breath hitched as he watched her, his brows lifting slightly in surprise as her hands moved to the buckle of his belt.

“Gabby…” he murmured, but she didn’t stop, her fingers deftly undoing the clasp before moving to the button of his pants.

Before she could continue, Glen reached down, his hand gently covering hers to stop her. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice low and tender. “You don’t have to do that.”

Gabby tilted her head up to look at him, her wide eyes meeting his. “I know,” she whispered, her voice steady but warm. “I want to.”

Glen’s gaze softened, his thumb brushing lightly over the back of her hand where it rested on his belt. “Gabby…” he started, his tone still hesitant, but the way she was looking at him made his resolve falter.

“I want to make you feel good, too,” she said quietly, her sincerity shining through in every word. “Please, Glen.”

He exhaled deeply, his jaw tightening for a moment as he studied her. The vulnerability and care in her eyes were impossible to ignore, and the sheer fact that she wanted to do this for him made his chest tighten in ways he didn’t expect.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Gabs,” he murmured with a soft chuckle, letting his hand fall away from hers.

Gabby’s fingers worked with a quiet determination, undoing the button and zipper of his pants with ease. Glen lifted his hips slightly, his muscles taut beneath her hands, allowing her to slide both his pants and boxers down in one smooth motion. She shifted back to pull the fabric down his legs and discarded it to the side, leaving him bare before her.

Her breath hitched for a moment, her gaze falling to him. There was a flicker of nervousness that flashed across her face, but it was quickly overtaken by resolve as she reached up, wrapping her fingers delicately around him.

The heat of him was palpable, and her touch was tentative at first, but as her hand began to move—slowly sliding up and down his length—she found a rhythm, watching as Glen’s head fell back slightly, his lips parting.

A deep sound rumbled from his chest, a mixture of a groan and a sigh, and the noise sent a jolt of confidence through her. A faint smirk curved her lips as she glanced up at him, her heart fluttering at the sight of him so undone by her touch.

Glen’s head tilted back down, his dark eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her stomach flip. “Gabby…” he murmured, his voice rough. “You really don’t have to—”

Before he could finish, Gabby leaned in, her lips brushing against the tip of him as she let her tongue swirl gently over the sensitive skin. The effect was instant—his words cut off by a sharp intake of breath as his hands gripped the edge of the bed for support.

She glanced up at him again, her smirk widening just slightly as she spoke, her voice soft and teasing. “I want to,” she murmured, her tone steady and sure.

Glen’s chest rose and fell rapidly, his jaw clenching as he tried to keep himself grounded. “You’re going to kill me,” he muttered, his voice strained but laced with a hint of humor.

Encouraged by his reaction, Gabby leaned in further, her lips parting as she took him into her mouth, her tongue gliding against him with a slow, deliberate motion.

Gabby’s confidence grew as she moved, her lips and tongue exploring with a mix of curiosity and purpose. She shifted her hand slightly, stroking him with one hand while her mouth teased the sensitive tip. A low, guttural groan escaped Glen, and his hands fisted the bedspread beneath him.

“Just like that,” he murmured, his voice a rough whisper that sent a thrill through her. “Feels so good, baby.”

Her cheeks warmed at the praise, and she responded by taking him a little deeper, her tongue swirling as her movements became more assured. Another deep sound left him, this one longer, more unrestrained, and she couldn’t help the flicker of pride that sparked inside her.

Glen’s gaze, heavy and dark with desire, met hers briefly before his head tipped back again, his breath catching audibly. “You’re... incredible,” he managed, though his words were beginning to falter, his chest rising and falling unevenly.

Encouraged, Gabby let her lips slide down a little further, her hand shifting to match the rhythm of her mouth. She felt the way his thighs tensed beneath her, how his fingers flexed against the bedspread.

“Gabby,” he rasped, his voice breaking slightly. “I—”

He didn’t finish the sentence. Instead, his head fell back completely, exposing the strong column of his neck, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. Words seemed to escape him now, replaced by deep groans and sharp intakes of breath.

As she continued, she felt the way his body began to tremble slightly under her touch, the tension building with each passing moment. She slowed her pace briefly, her tongue trailing softly along him before she took him deeper again, her movements intentional and unhurried.

“God, baby,” he groaned, his voice hoarse and strained, “you’re gonna ruin me.”

His words sent a spark of heat coursing through her, but as she glanced up again, she saw the way his lips parted with silent gasps now, how his head pressed harder into the mattress, his fingers digging into the sheets. He was unraveling beneath her touch, and the realization made her pulse race.

By now, Glen was barely able to form words, the sounds he made raw and unfiltered, filling the space between them. The sight of him this undone—completely at her mercy—only spurred her on.

Glen’s breathing grew heavier, and his body tensed more with each passing moment. His head tipped back, his jaw tightening as he struggled to maintain some semblance of control. He propped himself up on one arm now, his free hand twitching like he didn’t know whether to reach for her or hold himself steady.

“Gabby,” he rasped, his voice a broken whisper, “you don’t have to… you don’t have to finish—”

She lifted her gaze to meet his, her fingers tightening their grip at the base of him as she slowly dragged her tongue along the sensitive underside. His words cut off in a strangled gasp when she flicked her tongue against the soft spot just below the tip.

A deep, guttural groan ripped from his throat, and his hips jerked involuntarily as he came undone. Gabby hummed softly around him, the vibration only intensifying the sensation and making his release all the more overwhelming.

“Fuck, Ga-,” he choked out, his voice wrecked and breathless, his hand gripping the sheets so tightly his knuckles turned white. His head fell back as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through him, leaving him utterly undone beneath her touch.

She stayed with him, letting him ride it out, her movements gentle as she coaxed him through the peak and into the aftershocks. When he finally stilled, his chest heaving with the effort to catch his breath, she pulled back slowly, her lips curling into a small, satisfied smile as she looked up at him.

Glen dropped back onto the bed, his arm flung over his face as he let out a shaky laugh. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he murmured, his voice still rough around the edges.

Gabby shifted, crawling up the bed with an easy grace. She settled herself on her side next to Glen, her body curving into his as if she belonged there. One of her legs draped lazily over his, and her hand propped her head up as she looked down at him with a smile that was equal parts teasing and tender.

Glen let out a soft sigh, the corners of his mouth quirking upward as he turned his head to meet her gaze. His arm came around her waist instinctively, his fingers tracing slow, absent-minded patterns against her lower back.

“You look ridiculously pleased with yourself,” he said, his tone low and affectionate.

“I am,” she admitted without hesitation, her smile widening. Her free hand reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead. “You make it easy to feel...accomplished.”

Glen let out a husky laugh, shaking his head as his eyes softened. “Accomplished? That’s one way to put it.”

Her thumb skimmed over his cheek, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. They simply watched each other, the quiet intimacy between them far louder than any words could be.

“I could stay like this forever,” Gabby murmured eventually, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I like the sound of that,” Glen replied without missing a beat, his hand stilling against her back. His eyes held hers, the weight of his words lingering in the air between them.

Glen’s hand slid from her back to her hip as he turned his head to look at her more fully, a soft smile tugging at his lips. His gaze lingered, warm and unguarded, making Gabby’s cheeks flush under the intensity of it.

“What?” she asked shyly, her voice quiet as her fingers toyed with the hem of the sheet draped across his waist.

“Nothing,” he replied, his smile widening. “I just... I love you.”

Gabby’s breath caught, her chest tightening as his words hung in the air between them. It wasn’t the first time he’d said it, but there was something about the way he said it now—so certain, so genuine—that made her heart stutter.

“I mean it,” Glen continued, his voice soft but steady. “I really love you, Gabby. I love everything about you. And I want you here, with me, as much as possible. When I’m in L.A., I want this to be your place too. I want to come home to you.”

Her eyes widened slightly, and she swallowed hard, forcing a small smile as her fingers stilled against the sheet. “Glen…” she started, but her voice trailed off. She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to explain the knot of hesitation that formed in her chest.

Glen noticed the shift in her expression immediately. “Talk to me,” he said gently, his thumb brushing small circles against her hip. "Tell me what's going on in that pretty head of yours."

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” she said quickly, her voice wavering as she tried to find the right words. “It’s just… it’s only been, what, two or three months? This is all happening so fast, and I…” She trailed off again, biting her lip and looking away.

“You’re worried we’re moving too fast,” Glen finished for her, his tone calm and understanding.

Gabby hesitated before nodding, her cheeks flushing with guilt. “It’s not that I don’t feel the same way,” she admitted softly. “I do. I just… I don’t want to mess this up by rushing things.”

Glen was quiet for a moment, his hand still resting against her hip. When he spoke, his voice was steady and reassuring. “You’re not going to mess this up, Gabby,” he said firmly. “I know it’s fast, and I know it’s a lot. But I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life. I love you, and I want to build a life with you. “

Her eyes filled with tears, and she blinked them away quickly, nodding as a small, grateful smile spread across her lips.

He smiled against her mouth, his hand slipping up to cup her cheek. “So,” he teased lightly, trying to ease the tension, “does that mean I should stop planning on clearing out closet space for you?”

Gabby laughed softly, resting her forehead against his. “Maybe just hold off for now,” she replied, her voice filled with affection. “But don’t let me stop you from thinking about it.”

Glen chuckled, his hand brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Okay, how about this—we compromise,” he offered. “You don’t have to move in or make it a big thing. Just bring a couple of things. An outfit or two, some basics. Enough to have here when you stay over.”

Gabby tilted her head, giving him a curious look. “You mean like an overnight bag?”

He grinned. “Exactly. A toothbrush, some shampoo, an outfit or two—maybe even pajamas. Nothing permanent, just... a little something so you don’t have to lug a bag back and forth every time.”

She hesitated, mulling over his words. It was a small step, but it felt like a monumental one. Still, the way he framed it, so casual and without pressure, eased some of her apprehension.

“Just enough for a day or two,” she said slowly, testing the words on her tongue.

Glen nodded, his expression warm and patient. “That’s all I’m asking.”

Gabby sighed softly, a small smile creeping across her lips. “Fine,” she said, her tone teasing. “But don’t get any ideas about turning your spare closet into mine. This is strictly practical.”

“I would never dream of it,” Glen replied with a mock-serious expression, though the mischievous glint in his eyes told a different story.

She laughed, leaning forward to kiss him, her nerves beginning to settle. The compromise felt manageable, like dipping a toe into the waters of their future together rather than diving in headfirst.

As she pulled back, she caught the way Glen was looking at her—like she’d just made his entire night. “You’re really happy about this, aren’t you?” she asked, her voice soft.

“You have no idea,” he admitted, his smile widening. He shrugged, his smirk returning. “And I mean I think you technically live here based on the last time you spent the night before we went to Austin.”

Gabby shook her head, a grin spreading across her face. “…you actually remember what I said that morning?”

It took him a second to catch on, but then his smirk deepened. “You mean the time you looked ridiculously cute wrapped up in my bed and refused to get up and declared you officially lived here now? Yeah I remember that.”

Gabby felt her cheeks heat up as she laughed. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you remember that.”

“Of course I do,” Glen said with a wink. “You sounded dead serious at the time, by the way.”

“Only because your bed is ridiculously comfortable,” she countered, though her smile gave away how much the memory meant to her.

“Well,” Glen said, taking her hand and lacing his fingers with hers, “now you don’t have to just pretend. You’re welcome here anytime, Gabs.”

Gabby leaned in, her lips brushing softly against Glen’s in a kiss that started tender but quickly deepened. She shifted closer, her hand sliding up to cup his jaw as his fingers skimmed along her waist. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down her spine, and before she knew it, Glen was guiding her to straddle his lap.

Her legs settled on either side of him as his hands found her hips, holding her securely. His lips never left hers, the kiss growing more fervent, more consuming, until he finally pulled away, needing to catch his breath.

Glen smiled up at her, his hands still resting on her hips, his eyes filled with an unmistakable affection that made Gabby’s heart flutter. He didn’t say anything, just gazed at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “You’ve got to stop looking at me like that,” she said, her voice light, though her cheeks warmed under his adoring gaze.

“Like what?” Glen asked, his smile growing wider, as if he couldn’t help himself.

“Like I’m some kind of angel or something,” she replied, her tone playful but with a hint of shyness.

He chuckled softly, his thumb tracing small circles on her hip. “Maybe that’s because you are.”

Gabby rolled her eyes, though the smile on her face betrayed her attempt at pretending to be unaffected. She leaned down to kiss him again. This time, the kiss was slower, sweeter, as if they were savoring the moment, knowing their time together was limited.

Glen’s hands slid up her back, pulling her closer until their foreheads rested together. Neither of them spoke for a moment, their breaths mingling in the quiet. The weight of his impending departure hung between them, unspoken but palpable.

“I hate leaving you,” Glen murmured, his voice low and tinged with regret. “It feels harder every time.”

Gabby’s fingers threaded into his hair, her touch soft and reassuring. “I know,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But we’ll figure it out. We always do.”

Her words hit him with a force he didn’t expect, and for a moment, all he could do was look at her—this woman who had somehow become his everything. His thumb brushed along her cheek as he studied her, committing every detail of her face to memory.

“God, I’m crazy about you,” Glen said, the words escaping before he could think to hold them back. “I hope you know that.”

Gabby’s lips curved into a soft smile, and she leaned into his touch. “I think I do,” she said, her tone light but her eyes glimmering with emotion. “And just in case you were wondering—I’m pretty crazy about you too.”

Glen chuckled, though the sound was tinged with emotion. He pulled her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her as if he could hold her close enough to make time stand still. She rested her head against his shoulder, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest as they sat there, lost in the quiet comfort of each other.

“I wish I could take you with me,” he said after a while, his voice barely above a murmur.

Gabby shifted slightly in his lap, her hands sliding up to cradle his face. She leaned in, her lips brushing softly against his, her kiss a silent reassurance. When she pulled back, her eyes met his, steady and unwavering.

“I’m here now,” she whispered, her words like a balm to the ache in his chest. “Let’s not waste the time we do have.”

A flicker of something intense passed through Glen’s eyes, and before either of them could say anything more, he kissed her. This time, it wasn’t tender or measured—it was filled with need, a raw hunger that matched the longing they both felt. Gabby responded just as eagerly, her hands tangling in his hair as her body pressed closer to his.

As the kiss deepened, her hips moved instinctively, a slow, subtle shift against him that sent a jolt of heat through his entire body. Glen’s hands tightened on her waist, his grip grounding but filled with desire. The soft sigh she let out against his mouth only spurred him on, his lips moving to her jaw, then to the sensitive spot just below her ear.

As their kisses grew deeper, the space between them seemed to disappear entirely. Gabby’s hips moved again, this time more deliberate, drawing a low groan from Glen that she felt more than heard. His hands returned to her waist, steadying her, though it was clear he wasn’t trying to stop her. Instead, he seemed content to let her take the lead, his gaze burning into hers as if she were the only thing in the world that mattered.

Time seemed to blur, the world outside their little bubble fading away. It wasn’t just about the physical connection—it was the way they fit together so seamlessly, the way every touch, every kiss felt like a promise that no amount of distance could break.

A few hours later, Gabby lay nestled against him, her head resting on his chest, rising and falling with the steady rhythm of his breaths. His arm was wrapped securely around her, his fingers lazily tracing patterns along her bare shoulder. 

They’d lost track of time, caught in a bubble of quiet contentment. The world outside didn’t seem to matter; it was just them, tangled together, their conversation flowing effortlessly between moments of shared laughter and comfortable silence.

Gabby shifted slightly, resting her chin on his chest so she could look up at him. “Do you ever feel like…this is all that really matters?” she asked softly, her voice carrying the kind of vulnerability that only came in moments like this.

Glen looked down at her, his lips curving into a gentle smile. “All the time,” he admitted. “Especially when I’m with you.”

Gabby sighed contentedly, letting her head rest against him again. “You’re going to make it really hard for me to let you leave.”

Glen tightened his hold on her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Trust me, it’s not easy for me either.”

They lay there for a while longer, their voices soft as they talked about nothing and everything all at once. Eventually, Gabby glanced at the clock on the nightstand and groaned. “What time’s your flight again?”

Glen followed her gaze, letting out a quiet sigh. “Soon,” he admitted reluctantly. “I should probably get ready.”

Gabby sat up slightly, pulling the sheets around her. “I guess that means I should too,” she said with a small smile, though her eyes betrayed the reluctance she felt at the thought of their time together coming to an end.

He reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as he looked at her with a mix of affection and regret. “We’ll make this work, Gabby. I promise.”

Her smile grew a little stronger at his words. “I know we will.”

Gabby sat on the edge of Glen’s bed, the crumpled dress from earlier draped over her lap. She held it up, inspecting the fabric with a small frown before glancing toward Glen. “I really don’t want to put this back on,” she admitted, her voice light but laced with the reluctance she felt about the moment slipping away.

Glen, who was standing by the dresser pulling a clean shirt over his head, glanced back at her with a soft chuckle. “The offer still stands, you know. T-shirt and sweats. Might be a little big on you, though.”

Her lips curved into a small smile, the tension in her shoulders easing as she let the dress fall to the floor. “Sold,” she said, standing up and padding over to him.

Glen chuckled as she slipped into the bathroom to change. When she returned, his t-shirt hung loose on her frame, the hem brushing the tops of her thighs, and the sweatpants had to be rolled at the waist several times to fit. She plopped back down onto his bed, pulling her legs up and sitting cross-legged as she watched him finish getting dressed.

Glen was buttoning up his shirt, the movement practiced and casual, but Gabby couldn’t help but take in every detail—the way his hands moved, the way the fabric settled against his chest. He leaned down to grab his jeans from the floor, pulling them on with ease before reaching for his belt.

Her heart ached a little as she realized how much she’d miss him. Five more weeks. Five more weeks of not waking up next to him, not hearing his laugh in person, not having quiet moments like this. But she knew they’d make it through, just like they had before.

“Five weeks,” she said softly, her voice breaking through the quiet as she traced circles on the bedspread with her finger.

Glen glanced over at her, his hands pausing on his belt buckle. “Five weeks is nothing compared to forever, right?” He said, his tone steady, reassuring.

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked down at her hands, unable to stop the smile that tugged at her lips. “Forever, huh?”

He smirked, walking over to her and crouching down so they were eye level. “Yeah,” he said simply, reaching out to brush his thumb against her cheek. “Forever.”

Gabby leaned into his touch for a moment before letting out a soft sigh. “I know we’ve got this,” she said, her voice more confident this time. “It just…sucks. That’s all.”

Glen gave her a small smile and pressed a kiss to her forehead before standing up. “It does suck,” he agreed, grabbing his bag from the corner of the room. “But it’s not forever. And you’ll be so busy with school, you’ll probably barely notice I’m gone.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You think school’s going to keep me so entertained that I’ll forget about you?”

Glen chuckled, hoisting Brisket’s carrier off the floor and glancing down at the tiny dog, who was already dozing inside. “I mean, you’re a full-time college student, Gabby. Papers to write, exams to study for... you’re basically living the dream.”

Gabby snorted, crossing her arms as she leaned against the edge of the bed. “If by ‘the dream,’ you mean sleep deprivation and caffeine addiction, then yeah, sure. Totally living it.”

Glen grinned, his eyes glinting with amusement. “You forgot ramen noodles and midnight existential crises.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at her lips. “Wow, you’ve really nailed the college experience, haven’t you? How long were you in school? Two semesters before you started acting full-time?”

“Three,” he corrected, slinging the strap of his bag over his shoulder. “I was practically a veteran by the time I dropped out.”

Gabby laughed softly, shaking her head as she stood and grabbed her own bag. The playful banter helped stave off the heaviness that lingered just beneath the surface, but she could feel it creeping closer with every passing second.

As Glen adjusted Brisket’s carrier, she reached out to smooth the strap of his bag on his shoulder, her hand lingering there for a moment longer than necessary. “I’m just saying,” she murmured, her tone softening, “I’m not exactly going to forget about you, Glen. No matter how busy I get.”

He stilled for a moment, his gaze dropping to meet hers. The smile he gave her this time wasn’t the teasing one from earlier—it was something quieter, more sincere. “I know you won’t,” he said, his voice low.

The air between them shifted, the weight of the impending goodbye settling in. Gabby swallowed hard, forcing herself to smile as she gestured toward the door. “We should probably get going before you miss your flight.”

Glen laughed, the sound breaking through the tension and easing the moment. “Can’t have that,” he agreed, moving toward the door and holding it open for her.

Glen began loading his bag and Brisket’s carrier into the trunk of the waiting car. A second car sat a few feet behind, ready to take Gabby back to her apartment. The sight of it—of the separate paths they were about to take—sent a pang through her chest.

Glen turned to her as he closed the trunk, his expression softening when he saw the tears brimming in her eyes. He took a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling as if he were steeling himself for what came next.

“Gabby…” His voice was gentle, barely above a whisper as he stepped closer.

She shook her head, a tear slipping down her cheek despite her best efforts to hold it together. “I’m fine,” she said, though the wobble in her voice betrayed her. “I’m fine. I just—”

But she didn’t get to finish. Glen pulled her into his arms, wrapping her in a tight embrace that made it feel, if only for a moment, like everything was going to be okay. She buried her face in his chest, clutching the fabric of his shirt as more tears spilled over.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice soothing as he rested his chin on top of her head. “It’s going to be okay. We’ve done this before, remember? Five weeks, and then we’re together. You’ll blink, and it’ll be over.”

Gabby let out a shaky laugh, her words muffled against his chest. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s going to be hard,” Glen admitted, his arms tightening around her. “But it’s worth it. You’re worth it.”

His words made her heart ache in the best and worst way, and she tilted her head back to look up at him. His expression was tender, his blue eyes filled with a warmth that made it impossible to feel completely broken.

“I hate this part,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

“Me too,” Glen said softly, brushing his thumb across her cheek to wipe away a tear. “But I’ll call you as soon as I land. And we’ll text. And FaceTime. You’re going to get so sick of me, Gabby.”

She managed a small smile, her hands still clutching the front of his shirt. “I could never get sick of you.”

“Good.” 

He leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss that started slow, like he was savoring every second of it. But as her hands slid up to cup his face, and his arms pulled her closer, the kiss deepened. 

Gabby lost herself in him, in the way his lips moved against hers with a tenderness that made her knees weak and a passion that made her heart ache. Glen’s hands drifted to her waist, holding her to him as if he couldn’t bear to let her go.

The rest of the world faded away. There was no car waiting, no goodbye looming—just them, tangled in a kiss that neither one wanted to end.

It wasn’t until the driver cleared his throat, the sound cutting through the moment, that they broke apart. Glen exhaled heavily, resting his forehead against hers as they both tried to steady their breathing.

“Sorry,” he muttered, shooting a sheepish glance at the driver before turning his attention back to her. “I guess we got carried away.”

Gabby shook her head, her fingers brushing against his cheek. “Don’t apologize,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Not for that.”

Glen smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. The ache of parting was already settling in, but he cupped her face gently, brushing one last kiss to her lips before stepping back.

“I love you,” he said, his voice steady even as his eyes betrayed the emotion he was holding back.

“I love you too,” Gabby whispered.

With one last hug, Glen reluctantly released her and climbed into the car. Gabby stepped back, wrapping her arms around herself as she watched the car pull away. Her own driver stood patiently by the second car, but she didn’t move right away.

She stood there for a moment longer, staring down the empty street, letting the quiet settle around her. Then, with a deep breath, she turned and got into her car, her heart already counting down the days until Glen came back.

[autumntouched]

If Lost Return to Jake

Summary: Jake is a simp. It says so on his shirt

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x GF!Reader

Warnings: mention of sex but nothing explicit

A/N: Got drop kicked HARD today (at least a Phoenix fic was born for later), went looking for comfort, and came across something I whipped up a few weeks ago based on a chat @glen-powells and I had about t-shirts Jake definitely owns. Could be better, but it made me smile

As soon as you get home, you change into leggings and a sweatshirt and curl up on your bed. You’re exhausted from a long week at work and planning your friend’s bachelorette party. You wish you’d told her bridal party only, but you adore her and it’s her special weekend so you’ll put in the extra work to wrangle fifteen women for a weekend in New Orleans. Five minutes, you tell yourself. You’ll start dinner in five minutes. But ten minutes later, you’re still curled up in the cozy nest of your comforter and after twenty minutes you start to wonder whether you can skip dinner altogether. Try again for breakfast in the morning.  

You’ve just resigned yourself to letting your stomach growl itself to sleep when you hear keys in the door, and Jake calls your name. You let him know that you’re in the bedroom. Your body aches, it’s so tired but just the sound of his voice has your heart rate stumbling over itself in excitement. Guess you’re cooking dinner after all. You bury a groan in your arm, but you’re already smiling. 

He’s still in uniform when he eases the door open. In uniform and holding a giant bouquet of your favorite flowers. Maybe you fell asleep. If you are, you’re already looking forward to seeing where this dream goes because those twinkling green eyes and dimples are really doing a number on you. 

Your brain catches up to the moment and you fly up. “Wait, what are the flowers for?” You can’t quite hide the pitch of panic in your voice that you’ve forgotten an important date. You have to put multiple alerts in your phone for anniversaries and birthdays and still sometimes they slip past you. 

“Oh, these?” He’s trying to sound off-handed, but he’s beaming at the excitement edging out your concern. “Just a pretty excuse to drop in on an absolutely stunning woman.” He lays them on the bed beside you because you’re already waiting for him on your knees. Jake runs his hands down your arms, his rough fingers skimming the sensitive undersides of your forearms and wrists as he lifts them around his shoulders and sidles closer. You’re practically nose to nose. “Also thought she might like something to eat,” he murmurs, lips brushing yours. “So I stopped and got her some dinner.”

“Such a simp,” you smile, still amused by his teenage cousin’s wry assessment of him after you met his family at Thanksgiving.   

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you flush to him. “And proud of it,” he brags before claiming your mouth. 

So when you’re scrolling through endless Etsy pages for your friend’s bachelorette party and come across a “Proud Simp” t-shirt, you giggle and immediately add it to your cart. You wrap it for him as beautifully as you wrap his birthday and Christmas gifts. You might be bad with dates, but you’re a wiz with some paper, ribbon, and a little tape. 

“What’s this for?” Jake asks when you go to his place to give it to him. You’re so excited to see his reaction that you nearly blurt it out. 

“Open it!” You rush him. 

But he notices how beautifully you’ve wrapped it and takes his time carefully trying to preserve your work, and it makes you want to shake him and kiss him all at once. 

You go all warm at the way his face lights up when he sees your inside joke in t-shirt form. Immediately, Jake strips off his black tee to put it on. But once you glimpse his muscled chest and the dark trail of hair from his pecs down into his low slung shorts, you decide he can also lose the shorts and everything under them for now. He’ll have plenty of time to wear your gift after he’s thoroughly thanked you for it. 

And thank you for it he does.

Jake wears it. A lot. At first you think it’s just around the house, but as he spends more and more time at your place you realize he wears it out too. To run errands, to football nights with his Dagger Squad buddies Rooster, Payback, and Fanboy despite their teasing, even to pick his cousin up from the airport when she comes to visit. 

Her latest assessment of him? “Please get help.”

You draw the line at him wearing it to his commanding officer’s cookout, which he pouts about until he’s distracted by your braless sundress with the spaghetti straps crossed in the back.

For Labor Day weekend, you fly to Texas to visit his family. He picks you up from the airport. When he gets out of the car to kiss you and load your bag into the trunk, you laugh at the t-shirt he’s wearing. It says ‘I’m Jake.” 

“Did you forget your name or something?” you ask, trying to figure out if he’s playing a prank on you. 

“You’ll see,” he promises, the lines around his eyes growing more prominent with his suppressed smile. 

There’s a tissue paper wrapped box on your seat when you get into the rental car. “This better not be a ring,” you blurt out, trying not to hyperventilate. It’s not that you don’t know at this point that you’re going to spend the rest of your life with him. But your younger brother just got engaged, and you know your future sister-in-law would feel overshadowed if you took that step just now.

Before he drives away from the curb, Jake gently cups your chin and runs his thumb over your bottom lip to calm you down. “Sweetheart, I’ll wait as long as you want me to pop the question.” One of his mischievous smiles flip flops your heart, and you close your eyes as he kisses the scowl of concern from between your eyebrows. “Personally, I think this is better than a ring though.” 

That statement warns you what’s to come, but you’re still not prepared when you lift a t-shirt from the box. 

“If lost, return to Jake,” you read. You mouth the words, trying to put together what it means until you realize it’s the same color as the shirt he’s wearing. 

You feel the blood drain from your face. “No.”

“No what?” he chuckles, taking his eyes from the road for a moment to check your expression. He laughs even harder at what must be a look of horror on your face. 

“I’m not wearing this, Jake. The people who wear these carry AARP cards and have those help I’ve fallen and can’t get up buttons. I’m not even old enough to have a geriatric pregnancy! And if lost? When do I get lost?” 

“When you drive with the gps on mute,” he answers a little too quickly. Your face lets him know he’s made a big mistake. He adds even faster, “But I’ll never make you unmute the GPS because this proud simp loves it when you need him.”

Flashing you his biggest, most you-know-you-love-me grin, he reaches across the console and takes your left hand. His thumb strokes the place on your finger where an engagement ring will one day rest before placing a quick, but lingering kiss there. “C’mon sweetheart,” he says quietly, but you can hear the sudden weight of emotion in his voice. “I promised to wait to ask you to marry me, so how else am I supposed to let you know that I’m never going anywhere before I leave?”

This man really knows how to wreck you. He’s in Texas to say goodbye to his parents before he deploys until March. After growing up with your dad’s deployments, you swore you wouldn’t fall in love with a Navy man, but Jake had other plans for you. “Wear it with me please?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you agree, too choked up to say more. You know from experience crying before a goodbye only makes it harder. There will be plenty of time later to let his gift catch your tears. 

You put on the shirt before you get to his parents’ house because you know it will make his family laugh and that’s what you want to remember later too, the laughter. 

Arm slung over your shoulder, in your paired “I’m Jake” and “If lost return to Jake” shirts, he takes you to his favorite ice cream shop. You both laugh at the judgmental looks the teens and even some people your age give you. His cousin, Danny, insists she’s too embarrassed to be seen with you two. 

You wear the shirt to see him off and again when he gets home. And as soon as you’ve flown into his arms and kissed every inch of his handsome face (you’ll save the rest of him for later), he sets you down so he can show you that he’s wearing his too. You notice his shirt is as faded as yours from going through the wash so many times.

Gathering up his seabag, he hooks an arm around your shoulders to hold you close as you walk to the car. “I’m thinking it’s about time we sealed this relationship with something a little more durable than cotton,” he says. “What do you think?”

“I’m tired of people asking me where’s Jake,” you agree. “So yes.”

[impala-dreamer]

Peace and Quiet & No One Else Around

A Short Story

Glen Powell x Reader

Requested by @deanwinchesterswitch for my Cozy Drabbles

1,246 Words (oops)

NSFW, Smut on a train!, Cozy Romance

Cozy Drabbles ‘24 Masterlist

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

The cabin rocks gently as the countryside whizzes past in a flurry of orange and gold. The November air is cold but the vents by the window push heat through, fogging up the base of the glass. It’s a vignette that frames the scenery, focusing your attention on the autumn colors and stillness of the world. 

The book in your hand goes unread, and you sink a little deeper into relaxation. The blanket is heavy and warm, and the pillow behind you is firm but perfect. It sighs, and you can hear the beat of its heart. 

Glen shifts slightly as you take up more space on the long bench seat. 

“Comfy?” he asks, a grin on his lips and in his voice. 

Wiggling closer, you turn and put your feet up against the wall. The window is in full view now and you let out a happy sigh. “Not bad. You?” 

A gentle laugh vibrates through his chest. “Would be, except this sloth keeps pushing me off the seat.” 

Gasping in fake offense, jump up and turn to face him. “Sloth?” Hands on your hips, the book and blanket fall to the floor. “You wanted to take this trip and now I’m stuck on a train for hours with nothing to do. Don’t call me a sloth for relaxing!” 

His smile is bright, reaching right up to his entrancing blue-green eyes. “You’re right,” he concedes, reaching for your arm. His hand slides slowly down to yours and he squeezes tight. 

“This was my idea…” 

“Exactly.” 

All play melts as he brings your hand to his lips and kisses you sweetly. 

Dimples pop. The charm is thick. “Come back. I’m cold.” 

“Fine.” 

Grabbing the blanket from the floor, you lie back down, this time resting your head in his lap. His left arm settles on your waist and everything is calm again. 

“This is nice though, isn’t it?” he asks, pressing his head back against the upholstered seat. “Nothing to do… peace and quiet… no one else around…” 

An idea prickles in your head and you push your fingers through his. “It is…” 

“Beautiful scenery…”

Gently, you rub your fingertips over the back of his hand and through and around each digit, massaging lightly and intently. You always loved his hands. “Mhm.” 

“Beautiful girl…” 

A shudder of desire strikes as his voice washes over you. Lifting his hand to your lips, you slowly kiss the pad of each finger. 

He hums in appreciation and shifts down a little closer. 

“Nice and warm…” 

Parting your lips, you gently suck in the tip of his middle finger. 

A slight moan rumbles through him. “Damn, baby.” 

Looking up at him, you bring his finger fully into your mouth. As his breath halts, you roll your tongue against his finger and then suck hard as you pull it back out. 

His eyes flutter and his bottom lip drops. 

Another pull on his finger and he squirms in his seat. He moans a little louder and you drag his index finger inside as well. 

“You’re walkin’ down a dangerous road, Y/N,” he whispers, his voice thick and slow. 

Staring at him, you swallow around his fingers and then let them go, sliding them from your wet lips. “Thought you said no one was around?”

He inhales deeply, struggling to fight the surge of arousal your touch brings. “I did.” 

You grin seductively. “So why not enjoy the quiet with me?” 

Quickly, Glen looks over his shoulder, ensuring the cabin door is locked and no one can be seen passing by the small window. Satisfied, he realizes that he’s very much not, and pulls his hand from yours. 

The train approaches a turn around the mountain and gently curves to the left as Glen sneaks his hand into your shirt. His fingers are still wet and he rubs them across your nipple, sending sparks right to your clit. 

Your moan urges him on and he pinches the bud hard. 

“Fuck…” You squirm on the bench seat and close your thighs tight. The pressure makes your pussy throb and you close your hand around his wrist. 

“Hey,” he teases, twisting gently. “You started this…” 

“V-very true…” 

Another tweak of his fingers and your jaw drops as pleasure spreads. You can feel each touch in your pussy as if he was working down there as well. 

“So shut up and enjoy.”

Leaning over, he captures your top lip in a wet kiss. He paws at each breast, tugs both nipples, and watches in lustful fascination as your hips buck into the empty air. 

The train moves swiftly through the countryside, filling the window with a strobe of evening light. Gold flashes off the trees and the sky begins to fade. 

Inside, you’re losing your mind, blanking out completely as Glen uses your body as his toy. He licks into your mouth as his fingers caress the soft inner folds of your pussy; he groans, low and dark as he dips his fingers into your wetness. You can feel his cock press hard into your shoulder as he leans over you, and your mouth waters for him. 

Pushing his hands away, you flip over and earn yourself a surprised moan. 

“Where you goin’?” he asks, eyes mere slits, lips ruddy and wet. 

You bite your lip and whimper while reaching for his zipper. “Wanna suck you so bad…”

His tongue presses against his teeth and sucks in a deep breath. Without a word, he lifts his hips and tugs his jeans down. His briefs are marled gray and you can already see a damp spot where he’s leaked for you. 

The sight turns you on even more and it’s mere seconds before you have him in your mouth, wetting his shaft with your warm saliva before pulling back with a kiss. 

He exhales a deep moan. “Fuck, Y/N…” 

“Mhm…” 

It’s a moan around his cock, a vibration from your lips, and Glen pushes his head back against the wall as his body floods with tight pleasure. It builds deep inside as you worship his cock with sloppy kisses and fluttering flicks of your tongue. He grabs the back of your neck, guiding you deeper, moving you faster, until he’s jerking his hips up into your face and you can barely take it any longer. Your body is shaking with need, your cunt dripping and aching. 

“Please-” You pull back and look up at him with desperate, wide eyes. “Please fuck me.” 

He drags your face up to his and kisses you hard, nearly knocking you over while you try to get rid of your jeans. He grips the back of your head, massages your tongue with his, and hums deep into the core of you. 

Another turn of the tracks and you’re in his lap, lowering yourself down onto his stiff cock. It’s warm and thick and fills you so intensely that your entire body shudders. 

His strong arms wrap around you, holding you close while he rocks up into you. The rhythm of the rails and the pulse of his hips merge and your muscles tighten around him. 

It’s breathless and warm and over too soon. 

Exhausted, you fall into each other's arms, rearranged on the long bench seat beneath the blanket. 

“You know something?” 

Glen sighs and hugs you closer, lays a kiss on your forehead. “What’s that?” 

“I think I like trains now.” 

He laughs, full and happy. “Told ya.”

[lgbtqreads]

I’m looking for a book with queer characters (queerness doesn’t have to be a big topic in a book) that’s… cozy?

I know I’m being kind of unspecific 😅 but I’ll try here; basically what I am looking for is a either mystery/romance with mystery elements or fairy tale/fantasy/magical realism (or mix of those, even better) that

- doesn’t rely on heavy political intrigue

- isn’t focused on opression or social injustice as main themes (queerphobia mentions are fine as long as it isn’t “historical gay romance where the tragic part is that we’re gay and can’t be togheter because of it not being socially acceptable” )

- isn’t fast paced action- adventure, epic fantasy, tense enemies-to-lovers whirlwind romance, political intigue etc.

I know I have written „cozy” but that doesn’t mean it can’t be a murder mystery or has to be without any kind of violence, I mainly meant the setting or the pacing of the book.

Highly preferable, but not a must:

- supernatural/folk/fairy tale elements

- adult (non-teenager) male/non-binary main character(s)

- set in smaller city/countryside/wilderness/village/seaside etc.

Examples of books that for me fit this profile and I’m looking for similar vibes :

Silver in The Wood + Drowned Country by Emily Tesh, A Heart Of Stone by Johannes T. Evans, some stuff by E.E. Ottoman, Peter Darling by Austin Chant (I know all of those are romances, but what I am looking for doesn’t have to be)

I’m very sorry if that was too convoluted and thanks for considering my ask 😅

I'm intrigued that you haven't mentioned The House in the Cerulean Sea or any other TJ Klune, so I'll mention it here, though I imagine you know it's a good fit for what you're seeking. I will add Til Death Do Us Bard by Rose Black, Baker Thief by Claudie Arseneault, The Faerie Hounds of York by Arden Powell, and Sea Lover by JK Pendragon. I also recommend checking out the Kraken Collective; I feel like they have a lot of work (some included here) that is very much your vibe!

[toooster]

Somewhere in between

Pairing: @balladofareader x Glen Powell

Warnings: GLEN POWELL!!!!

A/n: chat this is just a silly little thing bc I’m bored, let’s not take it to heart.

Raindrops fell down the window, making a soothing patter noise. Cinnamon was balled up next to Mira, who was fast asleep.

New York and rain was like heaven on earth. It was a chance to have a calm day, do the laundry, or binge your favorite show. Mira however was spending it cozied up in her bed.

About an hour later, cinnamon decided Mira needed to start her day. He licked her forehead, which was odd for a cat but he was convinced he was a dog. “Ugh cinnamon.” Mira complained as she wiped her forehead.

Cinnamon just sat there and cowled his face at Mira, “what?” she asked with annoyance, “you hungry?” as soon as the words left her mouth, cinnamon was off the bed and at the island waiting.

“I’m coming, im coming.” Mira mumbled as she rolled out of bed, and put on her bunny slippers. Just then, Alexa turned on, announcing that a package had been delivered.

Mira walked to the front door and open it to get the package, just then cinnamon bolted out of the door and down the hall.

“Cinnamon!” Mira yelled as she took off after him, Mira chased him all the way out of the building and into the street before she ran smack dab into someone..not just someone..a man.. Glen Powell..

Then he was hit by a car!

[stevethehairington]

i watched a movie last night about this couple that goes on a hiking/camping trip and on their way to the site they stop at this little roadside restaurant called "bigfoot's burger shack" and my brain immediately went omg but what if wayne and eddie owned a little diner off the side of the road on the way to a forest famous for "bigfoot sightings" and their restaurant was like totally cryptid themed. and then my brain spiralled...

it's dustin's birthday and he's in his cryptid era right now, so of course he is desperate to visit the forest best known for having the most bigfoot sightings.

robin is just as interested in cryptids as dutsin is (she's not a full blown conspiracy theorist or anything but she DOES get wildly entertained by them, and she loves to read up on them even if she doesn't necessarily believe/agree with some of them).

and because robin and dustin are so into it, steve gets roped along. although, is it getting roped along if you're the one that offers to drive and also plan the whole camping trip while you're at it? (plus, hey, steve's curious too.)

so steve robin and dustin head out to "bigfoot forest" or whatever fun name the locals and tourists alike have given it.

on the drive there they pass this little diner on the outskirts of the nearby town and decide to stop for a bite to eat before they finish the last stretch of the drive to the campsite. this place is one of those like cozy diner style places that's full of like locally handcarved furnishings and every square inch of the walls is covered in framed photographs and various signage and knick knacks of all kinds. except this place has fully capitalized on the nearby forest, because it's basically like a cryptid cafe - those photos on the wall are various "bigfoot sightings" and newspaper articles and clippings about bigfoot and other various cryptids. it's fun and it's very clearly a good business model lol.

this place, of course, is owned and operated by none other than wayne and eddie munson.

(i'm thinking the place is maybe called "benny's bigfoot buffet" and they took it over for benny hammond after he either died or mysteriously disappeared or just moved on.)

but anyways, steve robin and dustin stop there for lunch and they meet eddie and wayne and they all get to chatting and blah blah. eddie and wayne tell them plenty of stories of sightings - both ones they've heard from other people as well as their own (because of course they're believers).

eventually, steve robin and dustin have to leave because it's getting later and they want to make it to the campsite before it gets dark so they can set up.

blah blah blah. the first night is relatively normal, they hear some sounds and steve teases robin about it being bigfoot, and dustin gets excited about that. but they make it through the night. the next day they explore a bit. then when night falls, weird things happen. more sounds, only closer, louder, and they sound... like something. like an animal, like a creature. dustin and robin obviously go bigfoot but steve isn't so convinced. but then dustin runs out of the tent because he wants to try to get a photo or something and steve and robin chase after him and. and. annnnnnd.

he goes missing.

steve and robin comb the forest that night calling for dustin, searching for him. they don't find him though. but steve sees something. he sees bigfoot. (or what he is absolutely convinced is bigfoot now.)

they head to the munson's diner so they can use their phone to call the local police, and hopper callahan and powell roll up onto the scene and ask what happened and steve and robin tell them, and at first steve doesn't want to tell them about what he thinks he saw because he knows how that's going to play out. they're going to think he's crazy. but robin convinces him to maybe? or maybe she just tells them herself. but, as expected, they laugh at that. they tell them that bigfoot isn't real. blah blah.

of course, during all of this eddie and wayne were listening, they heard it all. and after hopper and co talk to them, eddie corners steve and is like tell me what you saw and there's something about him that makes steve feel like safe almost? like he can tell eddie and he won't laugh like the cops, he won't judge steve, he won't call him crazy. so he tells eddie and eddie looks spooked, but also excited and he tells steve yeah. that sounds like bigfoot.

and blah blah they end up taking things into their own hands and doing the investigating themselves, steve robin and eddie. (maybe they call in some reinforcements in the form of eddie's friends from town? local journalist nancy wheeler, photographer jonathan byers, max mayfield, fellow cryptid enthusiast)

and i literally have not thought of anything past this or what actually happened to dustin or how they find him or if bigfoot is actually real in this or if they end up unconvering some huge government conspiracy instead or something lmaoo. but yeahhhhhhh. oh and also ofc steddie happens along the way lol.

just. cryptids. bigfoot. spoooooooky. pacific northwest forest vibes. appalachian munsons. yeahhhhhh.

[mitjalovse]

The 90's did set many superstars from the previous decades in a variety of foreign contexts that did not make sense to them at that point in time. I mean, Brian May had a weird period then. He kept being sad over the end of Queen – every compilation of the group after Mercury's death felt like a requiem then –, yet he also gained more opportunities to work with the others. For instance, he collaborated with Cozy Powell on his solo album, where his guitar enriched the tune on the link. Of course, he did stay within his frame of playing, though we must ask ourselves – how would've his 90's been like, had Mercury lived? Let's fact the fact Queen didn't fit the ethos of the rock at the time. Then again, they didn't serve the 80's as well as we assume, so they could've been … fine?

[kurumeki]

When u get this u have to put 5 songs u actually listen to, publish. then, send this ask/tag 10 of your favourite followers✨️🎶

I was tagged by @phant0m-l0rd, thank you! ☜(ﾟヮﾟ☜)

I will list five songs that are stuck in my head lately, and that I simply cannot get enough of.

Black Sabbath / The Sign Of The Southern Cross From Sabbath's album Mob Rules (1981). This song is haunting me lately. Despite the title, it's not about religion really, it's not a reference to Christianity. Southern Cross, also known as Crux, is a constellation of the southern sky that is centred on four bright stars in a cross-shaped asterism. It's about realising how small we are compared to the night sky, and that life itself is much bigger than our what we experience here on Earth. Love Tony Iommi's heavy guitar riff and Geezer's complimentary bass. My favourite line from lyrics: Don't live for pleasure / Make life your treasure / Fade away.

Aerosmith / Draw The Line Title song from their 1977 album. I'm still not very familiar with their discography, but it should be no surprise one of their early releases got me with the groove. The bass line is permanently stuck in my brain, I'm afraid. Classic Aerosmith song that never fails to rail me up to get some very much needed kick of energy.

Judas Priest / Victim Of Changes From their 1976 album Sad Wings Of Destiny. Another album that got me in when I kind of accidentally listened to other two tracks from this album, Dreamer Deceiver and Deceiver (youtube is amazing sometimes with suggesting you stuff). I've been enjoying my journey to the roots of metal, so Judas Priest is a must. Love their heaviness and of course Rob Halford's vocals, my queer icon!

Rainbow / Stargazer Listen. Liiisten. When I first heard this song last year, I seriously wondered under which rock I've been living so far, not knowing this monumental masterpiece. I heard it at the movie premiere "Dio. Dreamers Never Die" (2022) in the cinema and my mind was literally blown. It wasn't even the full song played in the movie, and I was already hooked, obsessed, my brain rewired. I came back home very late, and instead of getting ready to sleep because of work on the next day, I put the song on and... yeah. It's love for life. Ronnie James Dio is a vocal genius there, his emotional performance will always give me chills. Cozy Powell's drum solo intro will never not be iconic. Ritchie Blackmore's guitar solo will never not be a work of art. The song is from their second album Rising from 1976. And in terms of favourite lyrics... hard to pick just one part. Stargazer will forever be in my top ten favourite songs of all time, and I know it will be the same at the day I die, no exaggeration.

MORRIE / あとは野となれ山となれ Speaking of songs that have forever rewired my brain - MORRIE's ultimate masterpiece and "healing song" from his 1992 solo album ロマンティックな、余りにロマンティックな (Romantic, All Too Romantic). It wasn't a love at first listen, but it sure has this unique quality that touches your heart and sends shivers down your spine. This song had to grow on me, but I was completely gone for it, when I was able to hear it live in 2019 at Solitude show in Yokohama O-SITE. He performed it alone on stage, with just the electric guitar, and the arrangement was just slightly different and he used a lot of loop, but it made so much sense to me that version will forever live in my heart. The song is about being eternal, about seasons passing and us being part of the nature's cycle, from the day we're born till we die, and then when we're born again, in human form or not, only to die again and one day just become cosmos nothingness and everything at the same time. I had the pleasure to try translating the lyrics of this song and this part always moves me almost to tears: You can become the star    You can become the sea You can become the wind   You can become the sand And still find the way           To that place Of infinite dream within your heart

If you made it there and read through all of this wall of text - congratulations! Now, my tagged beloved mutuals are:

@mystical-glider, @crash-to-create, @vinidra, @thedevilinbloodminor, @quartzfrost, @ranuunculus, @rayinpixels, @angels-holocaust, @hattoririma, @yridenergyridenergy.

[lavenderrpages]

@goxinsane asked. // 🌞 my muse’s aesthetic for your darling drew 🥰

Andrea 'drea' Powell. 💙

the epitome of 'cozy' it seems.

[rootedinrevisions]

Snowed In With You

SUMMARY: You and Glen spend a cozy weekend together at a cozy mountain where you get the rare chance to slow down and reconnect. With nothing but each other, Glen's dog Brisktet, and the warmth of the fire to keep you company, the weekend becomes a beautiful escape from the world.

A/N: This is the first of a few holiday fics that I have planned or in the works! Please let me know what you guys think with hearts, reblogs, and comments! I love getting feedback from you guys!

WARNINGS: None. Just fluff.

WORD COUNT: 5.6k

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell: Himself (RPF), Characters He's Played

Twisters: Tyler Owens, Boone, Scott, Javi

Top Gun: Maverick: Rooster, Hangman, Bob

Marvel/MCU: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

WWE/Wrestling: Cody Rhodes, Corey Graves, Damian Priest, Drew McIntyre, Finn Balor, Jimmy Uso, Jey Uso, Kevin Owens, L.A. Knight, Pat McAfee, Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins (if there is someone you're thinking of from WWE and they aren't on the list feel free to ask! There are so many guys on the roster that these were the ones that came to mind.)

Snowflakes swirl in the crisp mountain air as your car crunches up the gravel driveway to the cabin Glen has rented for the weekend. You barely have time to put the car in park before the front door creaks open, and Glen steps outside, a grin stretching across his face. Brisket bounds down the steps, tail wagging furiously as he makes a beeline for you.

“Brisket!” You laugh, bending down just as he leaps up, his paws landing on your thighs. His warm tongue darts out to give your cheeks a wet greeting, and you scratch behind his ears with both hands, his soft fur a welcome comfort against the chilly air.

Behind him, Glen strolls towards you. He’s got a hoodie on that’s slightly wrinkled, and his jeans hang just right, as the little bits of snow catch in his slightly messy hair. His smile widens as you stand up and he pulls you into a tight bear hug, lifting you off the ground just enough to make you laugh.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he murmurs into your hair, his voice low and full of emotion.

You start to answer as Glen sets you back down, but Brisket, not one to be ignored, nudges his way between the two of you, his wet nose pressing insistently against your hand as he stands on his back legs to reach.

Glen chuckles, leaning down and scratching Brisket behind the ears. “Okay, okay, but I get her first, bud.” His voice is playful, but there’s an undertone of something else–longing maybe, that makes your heart flutter.

He looks down at you and leans in, his lips brushing against yours softly at first, as if savoring the moment. The kiss deepens, and you feel the tension of the past month and a half melting away. Being apart for so long while he was filming in London had left an ache you didn’t realize was so deep until now.

Brisket’s sharp bark cuts through the moment, his impatience impossible to ignore. Glen pulls back, his forehead resting against yours as he laughs, his breath warm against your skin.

“Guess someone’s feeling left out,” he says with a smirk, stepping back and gesturing toward Brisket, who’s now wagging his tail so hard his entire body wiggles. “Better give him some love before he starts a full-on protest.”

You kneel back down to give Brisket the attention he’s clearly been craving, rubbing his belly as he flops onto his back.

Meanwhile, Glen moves to the back of your car, popping the trunk to grab your bags. He pauses, eyebrows lifting as he surveys the number of bags you brought. “You know we’re only here for two days, right?” He teases, pulling out your suitcase and then throwing your weekender bag over his shoulder. 

You stand, brushing snow off your knees, and flash him a mock glare. “I like to be prepared!”

“For what? A week-long expedition?” he jokes, slinging one bag over his shoulder while hoisting the other in his hand.

“Very funny,” you retort, walking over to him to try to take the smaller bag from him. “I wasn’t sure what the plan was or if we’d be doing anything fancy. So I brought different outfits just in case.”

“Fancy?” Glen repeats, looking around dramatically as if searching for a five-star restaurant in the middle of the mountains. “I hate to break it to you, but there’s nothing fancy out here.”

You laugh, swatting his arm as he leads the way up the cabin steps, Brisket bounding ahead to push the door open with his nose. Warmth immediately greets you as you step inside, the crackling of the fire warming the space. The smell of cedar and something faintly sweet lingers in the air, and you sigh, already feeling relaxed.

Glen sets your bags down by the couch, turning to you with that signature mischievous smile that makes your heart skip a beat. “Welcome to our little getaway. Now are you ready to relax and let me spoil you for the next two days?”

You grin, taking in the cozy space–the twinkling string lights, the oversized plaid blankets draped across the couch, and the promise of uninterrupted time with Glen. “Only if you let me spoil you right back.”

“Deal,” he says, leaning in for another kiss, his arms wrapping around you like he never wants to let go.

The moment stretches between you, the cabin’s cozy warmth wrapping around you like a blanket. Glen doesn’t let go, his hands resting gently on your waist as he looks down at you. You feel the world outside fade into nothingness–no schedules, no interviews, no appearances,  no planes to catch, no distance between you.

He breaks the silence with a quiet chuckle, brushing a stray strand of hair from your cheek. “Come on,” he says, his voice a low murmur as he gently takes your hand. “Let’s get comfortable.”

You let him guide you to the couch, his hand warm and steady in yours. The cushions are soft, layered with thick plaid blankets and pillows that practically beg you to sink into them. Glen sits down first, leaning back and looking completely at ease in the glow of the firelight. 

Then, with a playful tug of your hand, he pulls you down with him, his arms encircling you like they were always meant to.

“Much better,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nestle against him, his hoodie soft beneath your cheek and his heartbeat steady against your ear. One hand rubs soothing circles on your back, while the other tangles gently in your hair, his fingers trailing through the strands as though he’s memorizing every detail of you all over again.

The fire crackles softly in the hearth, its golden glow casting flickering patterns across the walls. Outside, the snow continues to fall, silent and relentless, blanketing the world in quiet serenity. The warmth of the fire contrasts with the chill you’d felt stepping out of the car moments earlier, making you sink deeper into Glen’s embrace.

The smell of pine lingers faintly in the room, mingling with the faint musk of Glen’s cologne—a scent you hadn’t realized you’d missed so much until now. It’s grounding, familiar, and comforting, pulling you even further into this moment.

He shifts slightly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before resting his cheek there. “I still can’t believe you’re actually here,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve been counting down the days.”

You tilt your head up to meet his gaze, your hand coming up to rest against his chest. “Me too,” you admit softly. “It’s been too long.”

He smiles, a small, private thing meant just for you. “Well,” he says, tightening his arms around you, “we’ve got a lot of time to make up for, and I don’t plan on wasting a single second of it.”

You close your eyes, letting yourself sink into the warmth of him, the sound of the fire, and the stillness of the moment. For the first time in weeks, it feels like you can finally breathe again.

“So,” you say, breaking the quiet with a soft nudge. “Tell me everything about London. How’s filming going?”

Glen exhales, his smile lighting up as he starts to talk. “It’s been amazing, honestly. The city, the crew, the whole experience–it’s been one of the best projects I’ve worked on in awhile. The story’s incredible, and I can’t wait for you to see it. I think you’re going to love it.”

“I bet I will,” you say, looking up at him. “I’m always proud of you, Glen, but I love seeing how excited you are about this one.”

He grins, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “It’s good, but man, it’s been a grind. Long days, a lot of pressure, you know? But that’s just part of it.”

“I’m sure it will all be worth it,” you reply, your voice full of conviction. “You always give it your all, and it shows.”

The conversation shifts naturally, and soon, he’s asking about you–how life’s been while he’s been away. You fill him in on the little things: the funny story about your new neighbor, a new hobby you’ve been trying, and how work has been busier than usual.

“And,” you add, a touch of pride in your voice, “I got that promotion I was telling you about.”

His face lights up, his grin wide and genuine. “Babe, that’s amazing! Why didn’t you lead with that?”

You laugh, shrugging. “I guess I wanted to hear about London first. But yeah, it’s a lot more responsibility, which is a little scary, but exciting too.”

“You’re going to crush it. I know you will,” he says. He pulls you closer, kissing the side of your head. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

The conversation drifts back and forth, light and easy, until Glen’s tone shifts ever so slightly. He leans his head back against the couch, staring at the ceiling for a moment before speaking.

“Sometimes I feel like I’m always…on,” he admits quietly. “Like, I have to be the fun guy, the charming guy, the one who’s always ready to take a picture, sign something, or do an interview. It’s not that I don’t love what I do, because I do. But…sometimes it’s a lot, you know?”

You sit up a little, turning to look at him. “Glen-”

He shakes his head, offering you a small smile. “Being with you, though–it’s different. I don’t have to be anyone but me. You make it easy to just…breathe. I can just be me.”

The honesty in his words tugs at something inside you, and you find yourself confessing things you’ve kept tucked away. 

“I get that,” you say softly. “I mean, not the same way you do, but…sometimes I feel like I’m not enough, being with someone like you. Like, I see how the world sees you, and I can’t help but wonder if when we do start telling people about us if I’ll be able to measure up to all that.”

His brows knit together, his hand coming up to cradle your cheek.

“Hey,” he says gently, his thumb brushing against your skin. “Don’t say that. You don’t have to be anything other than you for me to love you. Do you know that?”

You nod, your throat tight with emotion.

“I mean it,” he continues, his voice steady. “You’re the person I want to come back to, the one who makes all the noise in my head fade. I don’t care about anything else as long as I have you.”

Tears prick at your eyes, and you blink them away as his thumb catches one that escapes. The moment lingers, until he leans in, his lips brushing against yours. The kiss is slow and lingering, a quiet reassurance in the way his hand stays on your cheek, grounding you.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, and the softest smile plays on his lips. “You’re everything to me,” he murmurs. “Don’t ever forget that.”

You nod again, unable to find the words, and instead, you kiss him, pouring everything you feel into that single, tender moment. The world outside fades again, leaving only the warmth of the fire and the steady presence of the mean holding you like you’re the only thing that matters.

Glen's laughter fills the room as your stomach lets out an unmistakable growl. He presses a playful kiss to your temple before standing and stretching. “Alright, let’s fix that. I can’t have you starving on my watch.”

You smile as he heads into the small kitchen, the sound of cabinets opening and pans clinking filling the cozy cabin.

You follow him, leaning against the doorway. “You’ve been working nonstop for weeks. Maybe I should cook for you for a change.”

Glen turns around, eyebrow raised. “You? Cook for me? You’re supposed to be relaxing this weekend, baby.”

“And you’re supposed to be relaxing too, Mr. Leading Man,” you counter, stepping into the kitchen and gently nudging him aside. “Come on, let me spoil you a little.”

He folds his arms, giving you an exaggerated skeptical look. “Spoil me, huh? You sure I’ll be okay eating your cooking?”

“Oh, hush,” you say, laughing. “I’m perfectly capable of feeding us. And besides, who says we can’t cook together?”

Glen’s grin softens into something warmer. “Alright,” he concedes, holding up his hands in surrender. “Cooking together it is. But I’m in charge of the playlist.”

“Deal,” you say, grabbing an apron from a hook on the wall.

As Glen connects his phone to the cabin’s Bluetooth speaker, the kitchen fills with the smooth croon of a soulful Christmas song. You both fall into a natural rhythm, chopping vegetables and seasoning ingredients while the cozy warmth of the cabin wraps around you.

At one point, you can’t resist sneaking a spoonful of sauce to taste. Glen catches you mid-act, his hand resting on his hip.

“You’re gonna eat half of this before it even makes it to the plate,” Glen teases.

You grin, shrugging as you savor the taste. “Quality control. Someone has to make sure it’s good.”

“It’s unhygienic,” he chides, though the twinkle in his eye betrays him.

“Oh, please,” you shoot back, leaning against the counter with a grin. “I’m not too worried about spreading germs with you. Not after the way we kiss.”

Glen laughs, shaking his head as he stirs the sauce. “Fair point,” he concedes, his lips quirking into a smile.

The kitchen is cozy but compact, and as you move around, you inevitably bump into each other. One such moment has you accidentally backing into Glen while reaching for a spice jar. His hands instinctively catch your waist to steady you.

“Careful,” he says softly, his voice laced with amusement. His hands linger, warm and steady, as his gaze flicks down to meet yours.

“Sorry,” you murmur, your cheeks flushing as the moment stretches just a second longer than expected.

He grins, his thumbs brushing gently against your sides before letting go. “I don’t mind,” he says, his tone low and teasing.

You clear your throat, trying to shake off the butterflies suddenly fluttering in your stomach and turn back to the counter. 

By the time dinner is ready, the cabin smells like garlic, tomatoes, and the faint sweetness of basil. Glen sets the table while you plate the food, and when you both sit down to eat, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

Dinner passes in a warm haze of laughter and conversation. You and Glen share stories, the clink of silverware against plates blending with the crackle of the fire. The pasta you made together turns out delicious—though Glen insists it’s because of his sauce, and you playfully argue that your perfectly chopped vegetables were the real hero. Brisket stays close, hoping for scraps, and earns a bite of garlic-free bread when Glen gives in to his pleading eyes.

After clearing the table and stacking dishes in the sink—"They can wait until tomorrow," Glen declares—you both migrate to the couch. Glen pulls a blanket off the armrest and drapes it over you as you settle in with mugs of hot cocoa, the sweetness of marshmallows melting into the creamy warmth. Brisket curls up at your feet, his soft snores the only sound aside from the faint hiss of wind outside.

Glen leans back, stretching an arm across the back of the couch as he takes a sip of his drink. “Hey, would you mind if I looked over a script real quick?” he asks, his voice soft, almost hesitant. “The director wants to know by next week if I’m interested, and I’ve been meaning to give it a read.”

“Of course, go ahead,” you reply with a smile. “I brought a book anyway.”

He presses a quick kiss to your forehead before grabbing the script from his bag near the fireplace. You retrieve your book from the coffee table and settle back into the couch, tucking yourself under the blanket as Glen takes a seat beside you.

Without a word, you drape your legs over his lap, and he shifts slightly to make room for you, resting one hand on your shin as he flips through the pages of the script with the other. The firelight dances across his face, highlighting the subtle curve of his jaw and the faint concentration in his eyes.

The moment is quiet but comfortable, the kind of peaceful intimacy that comes from truly knowing each other. The rhythmic scratch of Brisket’s paws against the blanket as he shifts in his sleep and the occasional turn of a page are the only sounds.

At one point, Glen glances over, his lips quirking into a small smile when he catches you sneaking a look at him instead of reading. “What?” he asks, his voice low and warm.

“Nothing,” you say, fighting a grin as you look back at your book.

“Uh-huh,” he teases, giving your calf a light squeeze before returning to his script.

The hours melt away in the warmth of the cabin, the storm outside a distant hum against the sturdy walls. It’s not about what either of you is doing; it’s about being here, together, in this moment, where everything feels perfectly right.

As the hours pass, the fire in the hearth settles into glowing embers, casting soft, flickering shadows across the room. Glen turns the last page of the script, his brow furrowed in thought. He leans forward to set the stack of papers on the coffee table, grabs his phone, and types out a quick text to the director. His message is short but enthusiastic, praising the script and confirming he’s interested in the role.

Satisfied, Glen sets his phone aside and stretches, his muscles shifting under the soft cotton of his hoodie. When he turns to suggest heading to bed, he freezes, his gaze landing on you.

You’ve fallen asleep, your head resting against the armrest, your book lying open on your chest. The faint rise and fall of your breathing is the only movement, and a lock of hair has fallen across your face. Glen feels a tug at his chest as he takes in the peaceful expression on your face, the way the firelight catches on your skin.

He stands and pads over to you, careful not to wake you. Gently, he takes the book from your chest, marking your place before setting it on the coffee table. Then he leans down and slides an arm under your knees and another behind your back, lifting you effortlessly into his arms.

You stir slightly, murmuring something incoherent, but your head naturally tilts into the curve of his neck. Glen chuckles softly, his breath warm against your hair as he whispers, “Shh, I’ve got you.”

Carrying you into the bedroom, he nudges the door open with his foot and steps inside. The room is dimly lit by the glow of the snow outside, the bed neatly made with thick blankets and soft pillows. Glen carefully lowers you onto the bed, tucking you in and brushing that stray lock of hair behind your ear.

He changes quickly, trading his hoodie and jeans for a pair of flannel pajama pants. The air feels cooler here, away from the fire, but the bed already feels warm and inviting. Glen slides in beside you, careful not to disturb your sleep, and pulls you into his arms.

You instinctively curl into him, your head resting against his chest, your hand finding its way to his side. Glen wraps the blanket snugly around the both of you and lets out a contented sigh, pressing a light kiss to the top of your head.

“Goodnight, baby,” he whispers softly, his voice full of warmth and love.

The storm outside howls faintly, but inside, the world feels perfectly still. Glen closes his eyes, his hand tracing gentle circles on your back as he drifts off, holding you close and savoring the quiet, precious moment.

* * * *

The first thing you notice as you wake is the soft golden light streaming through the windows, illuminating the room in a warm glow. The second is the smell of freshly brewed coffee, rich and inviting, curling its way into the bedroom like a gentle wake-up call.

You stretch lazily under the covers, the bed still cozy from the warmth of the blankets and Glen’s presence last night. Just as you start to fully stir, Glen appears in the doorway, holding a steaming mug. His flannel pajama pants hang low on his hips, and his hair is a mess of soft, disheveled waves from sleep. A lazy, boyish smile spreads across his face as he makes his way over to you.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” he says, his voice still gravelly. He hands you the mug, his fingers brushing against yours as you sit up to take it. “Figured I’d let you sleep in a little after you passed out on me last night.”

You smile up at him, taking a careful sip of the coffee. It’s perfect—just the way you like it. “Thanks, Glen. And for the record, that book was really interesting,” you tease, your voice still thick with sleep.

“Mm-hmm,” he replies, leaning down to kiss your forehead before pulling back to look at you.

After a simple breakfast of eggs and toast, Glen suggests taking Brisket out for a walk to enjoy the fresh snow that fell overnight. You eagerly agree, bundling up in layers before heading outside.

The air is crisp and sharp against your cheeks as you step into the snow-dusted woods surrounding the cabin. Brisket bounds ahead, tail wagging as he leaves a trail of paw prints in the untouched snow. The trees are heavy with frost, their branches glinting like crystals in the sunlight.

Glen reaches for your hand, his fingers warm against yours despite the chill. He holds it firmly but gently, giving it a soft squeeze whenever you stumble over a patch of uneven ground. The path winds through the woods, quiet except for the crunch of snow underfoot and the occasional bark from Brisket, who seems to be having the time of his life.

Without warning, something cold and wet splats against your shoulder. You stop in your tracks, turning to find Glen standing a few feet away, a mischievous grin lighting up his face.

“Did you just—”

Before you can finish, he’s already crouching to scoop up another handful of snow. You shriek and duck, dodging the second snowball as it sails past you.

“Oh, you’re gonna regret that,” you say, dropping his hand and gathering snow of your own.

The snowball you throw hits him square in the chest, making him laugh. But when your next one lands down the back of his jacket, he lets out an exaggerated yelp. “Oh, you’re playing dirty now!”

Before you can make a run for it, Glen closes the distance between you in a few long strides. He scoops you up effortlessly, spinning you around in the snow. You’re laughing too hard to protest, your breath visible in the cold air as you cling to his shoulders.

“Say you surrender!” he teases, his own laughter mixing with yours.

“Never!” you manage to gasp between giggles.

Brisket, not wanting to be left out, comes bounding over, barking excitedly and leaping between you two. He jumps up, his paws hitting Glen’s legs as if trying to “help” in the playful battle.

Glen finally sets you back on your feet, both of you breathless and grinning as Brisket dances around you. You lean against him for support, your cheeks flushed from the cold and the exertion.

“Truce?” you offer, still catching your breath.

“Truce,” Glen agrees, pressing a quick kiss to your cold nose before pulling you into a warm hug. Brisket barks again, wagging his tail as if to seal the deal.

Together, the three of you continue down the snowy path, your laughter echoing through the quiet woods as the morning sun rises higher in the sky.

Back at the cabin, the warmth from the fire greets you as you shrug off your layers, brushing the last bits of snow from your coat. Brisket shakes himself off by the door, and Glen ruffles his ears before turning to you.

“Alright,” Glen says, his grin still playful from your snowball fight, “how about some cookies? Nothing says cozy cabin vibes like baking something sweet.”

You agree, rummaging through the kitchen to find the ingredients Glen had picked up earlier. Soon, the counter is covered with bags of flour, sugar, butter, and colorful sprinkles, along with a small tub of frosting. Glen insists on being your “assistant,” though he’s more interested in taste-testing than actually helping.

“Are you sure you measured this right?” he teases, stealing a pinch of cookie dough from the bowl as you mix it.

“Glen, if you keep eating the dough, there won’t be any cookies to bake,” you warn, swatting at his hand.

He smirks but relents, holding his hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine. I’ll wait.”

The two of you work together to shape the cookies, laughing as Glen insists on making a few in odd shapes—a heart, a misshapen star, and what he claims is a snowman but looks more like a blob.

Once the cookies are in the oven, Glen grabs the frosting and sprinkles, declaring himself the "official decorator." The first few cookies turn out surprisingly neat, but as he gets more creative, things take a turn for the chaotic. Frosting ends up smeared in uneven patterns, and sprinkles are scattered everywhere—on the counter, on the floor, and even in Glen’s hair.

You can’t stop laughing when you see the “masterpiece” he’s holding up proudly. “Glen, that’s not a snowflake. That’s… I don’t even know what that is!”

“It’s abstract,” he counters, grinning as he picks up another cookie. But in his focus, he doesn’t notice the frosting on his hand until you point it out.

“You’ve got a little something… right there,” you say, trying to keep a straight face while gesturing to his cheek.

Glen swipes at it with his sleeve but misses. “Did I get it?”

“Nope,” you giggle, and before you can offer to help, he dips his finger in the frosting and smears a dab onto your nose.

“Now we’re even,” he says, smirking as you gasp in mock outrage.

“Oh, it’s on!” you say, grabbing a spoonful of frosting and aiming for him. But Glen is quicker, catching your wrist and spinning you into his arms. The spoon clatters onto the counter as you both dissolve into laughter, your breath mingling as you’re suddenly very close.

Glen reaches up, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. His hand lingers, his fingers warm against your cheek as his expression softens. “I love seeing you laugh like that,” he says, his voice quiet but full of sincerity.

The room falls still for a moment, the scent of cookies baking in the oven mingling with the crackle of the fire. You smile up at him, your heart full as he leans in and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Alright,” he says after a beat, pulling back just enough to look at you, “but seriously, that snowflake cookie was art.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you playfully nudge his chest. “Keep telling yourself that, Powell.”

The scent of freshly baked cookies lingers in the cabin as you and Glen sit together at the kitchen table, admiring your hilariously messy creations. Brisket snores softly on the rug nearby, and the fire crackles in the background, casting a golden glow over the room. You’re mid-bite into a slightly misshapen star cookie when Glen clears his throat, a hint of nervousness in his expression.

“I’ve got something for you,” he says, his lips curving into a smile as he stands and heads toward his suitcase.

You blink in surprise, watching as he unzips a compartment and pulls out a small, neatly wrapped package. He returns to you, holding it behind his back for a moment as his grin widens. “Close your eyes.”

You roll your eyes playfully but oblige, closing them and holding out your hands. You feel the weight of the package as he sets it in your palms.

“Okay, open,” Glen says, and his excitement is almost childlike as he watches you unwrap the gift.

Carefully, you peel back the wrapping paper to reveal a slim envelope. Inside, your breath catches as you pull out two tickets to your dream destination, the one you’ve talked about visiting for years. Your eyes widen as you glance up at him.

“Glen…”

He beams, leaning forward on his elbows. “I’ve already got it booked. Flights, accommodations, everything. And before you ask, yes, I’ve cleared it with my team. No work, no interviews, no appearances. Just us.”

Your heart swells as you look at the tickets again, imagining the two of you exploring a place you’ve only dreamed of. “I can’t believe you did this. You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” he interrupts, his tone soft but firm. “I’ve been wanting to take you somewhere special for ages, and this felt perfect.”

You reach across the table, squeezing his hand as a smile tugs at your lips. “Well, now I feel silly for what I got you.”

He tilts his head. “You got me something?”

“It’s nothing compared to this,” you say with a self-conscious laugh, standing up and heading to your bag. You retrieve a small, gift-wrapped box and hand it to him, chewing your bottom lip as he unties the ribbon.

Inside, Glen finds a framed photo of you, him, and Brisket, a candid moment you’d captured on your phone without him realizing. His expression softens as he stares at it, his thumb brushing over the glass.

“I remembered you saying you wanted a picture of the three of us to take with you when you travel,” you explain, your voice quieter now. “So I had two made. One for your wallet and this one, for your trailer or hotel room. You know, if you want to…”

Glen pulls the smaller print from the box, smiling as he takes his wallet from his pocket and carefully slides it into place. “It’s perfect,” he says, his voice warm with sincerity.

You laugh nervously. “It’s really not. I should’ve thought of something bigger or—”

“Hey.” Glen sets the frame down and crosses to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He tilts your chin up with a gentle finger, his gaze locking with yours. “You’re the best gift I’ve ever gotten. I don't need anything but you.”

Your cheeks flush as he leans down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. His arms tighten around you, holding you close as if to emphasize his words.

* * * *

The next morning, light filters through the windows, casting a pale glow over the cabin as you sip your coffee, watching the snow begin to fall more steadily. Glen stands by the door, bundling up in a thick coat and scarf as Brisket circles his feet, tail wagging.

“I’m going to check on the weather and see how bad it is,” Glen says, tugging on his boots.

“Be careful,” you call out, wrapping your hands around the warm mug and glancing out at the swirling snow.

The door closes behind him, and you can hear Brisket barking playfully as they step out into the cold. A few minutes later, Glen returns, covered in snow from head to toe, his cheeks flushed from the cold. He shakes his head like a golden retriever, sending snow flying everywhere, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Well?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as he stomps his boots on the mat.

“Bad news,” he says, brushing the snow from his hair and grinning as he pulls out his phone. “Road closures all over the area. Looks like we won’t be leaving for a little while.” He holds up his phone to show you the alert, his grin widening. “Guess you’re stuck with me.”

You roll your eyes playfully, setting your mug down. “Oh no, how will I survive?”

“Don’t sound too disappointed,” he teases, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around your waist, his cold hands making you yelp as they press against your back.

You swat at him, laughing. “Your hands are freezing! Go warm up by the fire while I grab some extra wood.”

“I can do it,” Glen offers, but you shake your head.

“Nope. You’re already half-frozen. Just sit down and thaw out.”

He smirks, holding his hands up in surrender as he moves to the couch. Brisket hops up beside him, wagging his tail and settling in as Glen scratches behind his ears.

You pull on your coat and boots, stepping out into the crisp, snowy air to gather a few more logs from the covered woodpile. The snow is already piling up, muffling the usual sounds of the woods and leaving the world feeling quiet and serene.

As the fire crackles and the snow continues to fall heavily outside, the two of you settle back into the cozy rhythm of cabin life. There’s a quiet excitement in the air, knowing that the unexpected snowstorm has given you more uninterrupted time together—a gift neither of you were expecting but both secretly cherish.

[starseedfxofficial]

CAD/JPY & AI Bots: The Hidden Forex Opportunity You Shouldn’t Miss Why Bet on the Underdog: CAD/JPY & AI Bots, A Love Story Okay, folks, let me ask you something. When was the last time you thought about trading the Canadian Dollar (CAD) against the Japanese Yen (JPY)? Maybe somewhere between never and "Is that even a thing?" And hey, I get it—the world's got the EUR/USD and the USD/JPY hogging the limelight like some celebrity couple. But if you’re tired of the usual scene and ready for some low-key ninja-level moves, CAD/JPY is like finding a cozy coffee shop no one knows about—calm, surprising, and potentially super profitable. Now, let’s add some artificial intelligence bots into this mix, and we've got ourselves a real plot twist. Is CAD/JPY the Hidden Gem? Here's where artificial intelligence bots make their entrance, like secret agents at a high-stakes casino. If you haven’t leveraged AI bots in your trading yet, let me tell you: you're like someone trying to bake bread without yeast. Possible, but oh-so-flat. AI trading bots are the kind of partners who never sleep, never second-guess themselves, and are never tempted by the idea of "quick profits." Think of them as your financial sherpas—always calculating, always optimizing, and never judging when you panic-buy CAD/JPY because you thought "yen is cheap right now" sounds like a good enough reason. Why CAD/JPY Deserves Your Love Let's talk about why CAD/JPY is a serious contender for your affection in the Forex market. This pair thrives on more than just economic data; it’s a currency pair driven by the sweet combination of oil prices (thank you, Canada) and risk sentiment (hello, Japan). What does this mean for you, dear trader? It means there’s room for strategic finesse—when oil is on the rise, CAD gets a boost, while JPY tends to play safe haven during global jitters. AI bots are particularly good at recognizing these correlations before you even manage to finish your cup of coffee. The Hidden Patterns AI Bots Love to Spot You see, artificial intelligence loves data. It’s like that friend who always notices when your ex posts a sad song lyric on Instagram—AI bots pick up on nuances in the CAD/JPY pair that you might miss. One lesser-known tactic involves monitoring oil futures, not just for price trends but for volatility shifts. If the bots catch a spike in implied volatility for Canadian oil, they’re already analyzing how that could impact CAD strength relative to the Yen, while you’re still asking yourself if you can get away with just trading EUR/USD forever. AI bots are also stellar at recognizing divergences in cross-market sentiment. For instance, they might notice that risk-on sentiment (like a rally in equities) is happening at the same time that JPY is appreciating—something’s up, right? These kinds of anomalies are the bread and butter of trading CAD/JPY for profit, and AI bots are whispering sweet nothings to you about what’s coming before the rest of the market catches on. What Your Average Trader Misses Most traders treat CAD/JPY like that sad pair of shoes bought on sale—great in theory but often left gathering dust in the back of the closet. Why? Because it’s not a "major." Newsflash: Majors are overrated. This pair has got a lot going for it if you're willing to look under the hood, and AI bots help you do just that. One overlooked element is the interest rate differential. While people are busy figuring out what Jerome Powell had for breakfast, your AI bots could be exploiting the Bank of Canada’s rate hikes versus Japan’s historically low interest rate policies. It’s like grabbing candy from a baby, but ethically, because hey, this is Forex and not an actual daycare. The Magic of Mean Reversion with CAD/JPY Bots Want to know a trick? Here it is: mean reversion. CAD/JPY is one of those pairs that just loves to revert to the mean more often than most—especially when driven by oil fluctuations or geopolitical tensions. AI bots can track these swings with laser-like precision. Imagine them as that parent who knows when their kid’s tantrum is just for show and when it’s time for an intervention. They’ll pick up on over-extended moves, and they’ll act. Like a seasoned trader who doesn’t get caught up in emotions, but instead makes the right play, every time. A Contrarian Approach: Turning Market Ignorance into Your Edge You know what’s funny? How everyone runs to the Euro or USD like they’re the only gigs in town. Here’s a contrarian perspective: CAD/JPY gets less attention, which means there’s less noise and more legitimate opportunities. AI bots are perfect for these "underdog" trades because they aren’t distracted by hype—they are data-driven, patient, and relentless. If you want to sidestep the crowded trading floors of the "major" currencies and go somewhere the professionals quietly build wealth, this is where you should be. Game-Changing Strategies for CAD/JPY Using AI Bots - Leveraging Oil News for Predictive Trading: AI bots ingest and analyze headlines faster than you can even think "OPEC." They can enter trades based on sentiment analysis derived from oil output news. While you're still trying to figure out if you should short oil, they’ve already scalped a quick win by correlating it to CAD movements. - Sentiment Divergence Strategy: While CAD might rise due to oil prices, Yen might move in the opposite direction due to risk-off sentiments. AI bots are amazing at catching these discrepancies and exploiting them before the average trader even logs into their platform. - Interest Rate Arbitrage: With Japan’s eternal love affair with low interest rates, CAD/JPY offers a fascinating carry trade opportunity. AI bots evaluate the risk and make these trades seamlessly—meanwhile, you’re probably still Googling "what is carry trade?" Mistakes Most Traders Make and How to Avoid Them - Ignoring the Carry Trade Edge: Seriously, when you're trading CAD/JPY, understanding the interest rate differential is crucial. Bots won’t miss this, but if you do, it’s like throwing away free money. - Overreacting to Market Sentiment: Traders often panic-buy or sell based on the latest news out of Canada or Japan. AI bots? Not a chance. They calculate probabilities and stick to data. One minute of human panic can be AI’s opportunity for a strategic edge. - Trading During Low Liquidity: Many traders enter the CAD/JPY market when it’s quiet. AI bots optimize entry times by analyzing market depth and spreads, making sure trades happen when the conditions are right—not just when the trader feels like it. How You Can Get In On This Game So, you’re probably thinking, "Alright, but how do I do this without losing my shirt?" The answer: get the right tools and community support. StarseedFX offers the kind of advanced methodologies and insider techniques you won’t find in your average trading course. - Latest Economic Indicators and Forex News: To stay on top of those sneaky economic indicators driving CAD and JPY, visit StarseedFX Forex News. - In-depth Forex Education: If you're serious about mastering CAD/JPY, take advantage of StarseedFX's free Forex courses that provide deep dives into niche pairs and advanced tactics. - Join Our Community: Get live insights, analysis, and tips for CAD/JPY and other pairs at StarseedFX Community. If you’re tired of crowd-following and want to be the person finding the quiet yet promising trades, CAD/JPY has a lot to offer. Add in AI bots, and you’re practically at the controls of a stealth fighter—smooth, precise, and completely undetected by the crowd. So why not switch things up? Let the others battle it out in the EUR/USD Colosseum while you and your AI partners sip coffee in your hidden little café, quietly making the smart moves. Ready to tap into this hidden gem? Drop your thoughts in the comments, share your CAD/JPY experiences, and if you’ve got questions about bots—you know what to do. —————– Image Credits: Cover image at the top is AI-generated Read the full article

[allylikethecat]

Ally! Hope alls well don’t apologize for having a life!! We’ll all be here whenever you decide to update a fic!!!

Honestly i’ve been extremely swamped at work these past couple of weeks and it’s been nonstop thunderstorms where i live which makes me just want to shower and go to bed when i get home haha

Anyway, tst: what do the fictional george and matties like to do during thunderstorms?

🥤

AHH hello again my dearest smoothie anon! Because I am so bad at answering asks I had the pleasure of seeing TWO of your lovely ones in my inbox today. Thank you so much 🥺 even though I really am sorry for being so bad about updating and also responding to these at the moment.

Please, please don't forget about me! I promise I will actually manage to write something eventually and update my fics 🥺

oooo thunderstorms are the BEST there is nothing better than being cozy during a thunderstorm! I'm sorry to hear that work has been crazy busy though. We had a tornado warning last night.. and I do NOT live somewhere where we get tornados. I was over at a friend's house drinking wine and rewatching the olympic show jumping individual final with a group of other horse girlies and we full were like is GLEN POWELL COMING when we got the warning (dont worry not tornado actually happened lol)

TST: Hmmmm I think that Fictional!Matty can sometimes get really anxious during them, he doesn't sleep well to begin with so the thunder and lightening keeps him up which puts him on edge, the changes in pressure also kind of make him feel achey? Fictional!George does not care or notice that it is storming until he realizes Fictional!Matty is extremely on edge and he should probably assist with that...

Thank you so much for this ask and for being so lovely always! I hope you are having a good week!

❤️Ally

[ritchieblackless]

I just watched a video of Cozy saying : "I'm a little flower" holding a flower aside him" lol i laughed myself til cry 😂😂😂

"I am a little flower, and in the pot I grow.

My petals are so yellow, that in the sun they glow.

They give me fertilizer to stopping getting shorter.

But the thing that really makes me grow it lots of lovely.

.... WOTAH"

He is so cute isn't he?

[northwestofinsanity]

Pardon the intrusion I know it is not my business but I can't help but giving my opinion when I comea to Cozy. And let me tell you your Cozy-point of view is really accurate, I daresay better than mine. I don't really know about Whitesnake but what I know is that Cozy was so disappointed when the band didn't work out when he was in it. After Whitesnake, John went to some "Forcefield" recording sessions and they stuck together for a while but then they parted ways and definitely not in bad terms.. this is the little bit i know about Cozy's whitesnake era. Cozy wanted be notorious on stage and that's true but he didn't want to ruin anyone's spotlight or something, he just wanted to be notorious in the band but not in a mean or egocentric way.

He was a shy humble guy but he was those introvert/extrovert guys who was shy among his friends but at the same time funny and easy to get along with. The humble part comes from that he encouraged everyone and is that so that Jack Bruce wrote a song for Cozy, Brian May did the Tribute Concert, Roger Glover's album credits and so on.

I think he was so nice with people and fans but I also think he was as hard as a rock when it came to his feelings (I think he was fragile so he hid it by being a tough guy), very stubborn and with an acid humor... just like Rory Gallagher said 'I ain't no saint'.

It's interesting you pointed out the Michael Schenker thing because some time ago I read about a engineer who was the night that Cozy decided to leave MSG. Michael and Cozy had such an intense argument where in a moment Cozy just leave the room with some tears in his eyes... so he was a strong person but he had his limits I think.

But the point is that Cozy was a wonderful guy in spite all his things and everyone thinks that Cozy is sort of a egocentric guy. Like glenn Hughes said "He was rather egocentric" (I had to admit that I thought that too at first) but that is just a shell for hiding his insecurities....

Again, sorry for this but I was very admired by your answer... ♡

Oh no, don’t apologize for chiming into the discussion! -I enjoy when fandoms really put their thoughts together toward really getting to know the guys we love so much (been missing it in a lot of my other band fandoms for awhile!).  I tagged you to the previous ask to let you know this was going around in case you did want to add thoughts -because if anyone here has researched the many sides of Cozy, it’s you!

That is quite interesting to here about how Cozy and John interacted after Whitesnake.  I could see, in terms of the fanfic where the original ask/discussion started between @onstrangehighways and I, where while Cozy wants to be known without taking over the spotlight, the same might not have been true for John Sykes.  And already being frustrated with Whitesnake’s instability, he might have been able to see that -hence where the reaction he had in the story might have came in.  I can see with Cozy’s more encouraging side that he might not have wanted to specifically tell David that John would try to take over the lead -because from what you’ve shown me in your information about Cozy, he wouldn't want to accuse someone of something they might not actually do, and potentially shoot them down from an achievement in the industry as a whole -in or out of a particular group. There are many different aspects of Cozy’s personality, in all honesty, that could explain how he might have acted in the story -all of them fit well, and are interesting to look at how they work with his fictional characterization.

(Also, @justhereforwasp I hope you don’t mind the extensive analysis -and positive reviews of your story here happening where you might not see it.  Tagging to make sure you’re aware of it, and so you can add insight about Cozy and/or John if you want.)

It is possible he used toughness and snide behavior as a defense -there are many other examples of this I could think of in the entirety of the classic rock genre.  Re: “egocentric”, this can happen a lot too, where someone with a lot of insecurities might be fast to point out what they’re good at, in fear it might not get noticed before their weaknesses they feel very uncomfortable with are found out -and to reassure themselves.  Some truly end up becoming egocentric, and some just appear to be that, and those who get to know them find out that's not the case (I study this phenomenon a lot with Reb Beach).

As for the Michael Schenker ending (haven't really studied where Cozy ties in with him), that's interesting to hear.  The trouble with Michael is he’s, to use a kind term, a bit of a P-I-double-L.  Pete Holmes described Michael by admitting “he doesn't know how to interact” with people, and he can be an asshole, but can also be really sweet when he really gets to know someone.  He’s “yelled at [Pete] before”, but Pete doesn't take it personally. (It honestly reminds me of how a former work colleague and now close friend of mine once described a difficult client -he can be sweet, but if enough wrong things line up, he can be whacked!).  The thing with Michael -he’s very defensive, unstable with his lapses of sobriety and drugs, and very likely to clap back at someone who might disagree with him... You can see where Cozy’s tougher side would have clashed if enough of the wrong scenarios and enough conflict lined up.  And when Michael gets rolling with his verbal attacks, he’s one of those people who will say the kind of harsh stuff, where regardless of whether he really means it, there's *no taking it back*.  (Sadly, this topic hits close to home for me over something that was said to my same friend mentioned above).  It wouldn't surprise me if he said something as Cozy was leaving that really hurt him deep down -and if any bitterness Cozy might have shown afterward toward Michael was really just hiding the pain his inner sensitive side felt.