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joequiinn · 17 days ago

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And You're Driven Like the Snow | s.h. x mall goth!reader

Summary | Just when you thought Christmas Eve couldn't get any more stressful at Starcourt, that pretty boy from Scoops Ahoy (that you did not have a crush on) walked into your shop and threw your whole night for a loop.

Prompt | You need a last minute gift, but man that sales clerk sure is cute…

Warnings & Notes | fem!reader, mostly fluff, sorta merry little meet-cute (?), mutual pining, post-S3 au in which nothing bad happens, nervous & awkward Steve, reader's appearance not described only parts of her wardrobe are referenced

Author's Note | This was an idea I had started only a couple of days before @littlexdeaths posted the Twelve Days of Promptmas list, so when I saw a prompt that fit the vibes, I made some little adjustments to the story! This is my first go at writing Steve, so I hope I've done him justice.

Recommended Listening | very merry gothmas

WC | 12.5k

[masterlist]

!!! MINORS DNI !!!

Still night, nothing for miles // A white curtain come down Kill the lights in the middle of the road // And take a, take a look around

The guy in that stupid little sailor suit should not have ever caught your eye, not for anything more than a simple laugh at his expense before moving on with your day. And yet - as you entered the mall before hours, running late and knowing that your manager would chew you out for it - you caught yourself doing a double-take, looking from his gorgeous head of hair down to the near dangerous length of his shorts.

It only lasted for perhaps a few seconds, but nonetheless you had to shake yourself from the moment, utter confusion written across your face. Why the hell had you looked for even just that second, eyeing some pretty boy who most certainly wasn’t your type at all?

Once you had entered Spencer’s Gifts through the staff door and gotten the expected scolding from your manager who was on an authority high, you’d all but forgotten about your strange lapse in judgment on your way here. And so your day carried on as usual, your week carried on as usual, and that stupid looking boy from the ice cream shop wasn’t even a blip in your mind.

Until a week or so later, when once again you spotted him from afar as the two of you entered Starcourt for your respective shifts. This time, you couldn’t help but stare a little longer, looking him up and down with an insatiable curiosity as he walked far enough ahead of you that he was most likely unaware of your presence at all.

You tried to convince yourself that you were staring this time simply to figure out why he caught your attention in the first place - it had to be because of how stupid that Scoops Ahoy uniform was, right? There was no way you were oddly charmed by how well he wore it, or how his hair looked incredibly soft, or how his absentminded expression had an endearing quality to it. Nope, you weren’t staring out of any sort of interest in him at all, it was simply some morbid sense of curiosity about someone so clearly unlike yourself.

It was the third time you were staring, however, that made you kick yourself, because on this occasion the Scoops Ahoy guy caught you.

You’d been walking quite a fair distance behind - hoping that you didn’t look like a total creep watching how his long strides carried him - when his keys fell from his hands. When he turned to pick them up, the two of you met eyes across the expanse of the empty mall; you hadn’t even realized that you stopped walking until that moment.

You were instantly flustered by his brown eyes and the curious furrow of his brow, trying in vain to look around yourself and act as if you totally weren’t staring at all. Of course, you knew even as you did it that the act wasn’t going to work; when you nervously met his eyes again, you thought perhaps you saw something like amusement there. So, panicked and not knowing what else to do, you glared harshly as if to dismiss your staring and briskly continued on towards the escalators without daring to slow or look back at him one last time.

Why you’d been so caught up in him at all was a mystery to you, and so from that point you made a conscious effort to ignore him in the hopes that eventually your intrigue would be forgotten. So, you briefly found some guy cute? Didn’t matter, especially considering that you had no intention of ever speaking to him anyway.

Most days, that stupid Scoops Ahoy guy never even crossed your mind, but when he did, it was nearly an annoyance. If ever you visited the food court for lunch, it was almost aggressive the way you ignored the ice cream parlor, acting as if it wasn’t even there. During some of your morning walks through Starcourt you tried to keep your head down, but more than once the two of you had accidentally fallen in-stride with one another, which would prompt you to practically stomp forward and act as if you didn’t know he was there at all.

Then there was one day when you were convinced that your coworker was conspiring against you, because Shelley all but dragged you down to Scoops Ahoy despite your protests. Evidently, her ice cream craving took precedence over your arguments against accompanying her.

You could feel the tension in your body and across your face as you awkwardly stood there beside Shelley, your eyes trained on the floor as if that would keep you from doing something foolish. If your coworker was aware of your rigid demeanor, she didn’t draw attention to it, far too focused on ordering the most annoyingly intricate sundae you’d ever seen.

As luck would have it, you weren’t invisible simply because you wouldn’t look at the Scoops Ahoy guy, because he turned his attention to you and asked, “Anything for you?”

You looked up with a mean expression, which was somewhat unintentional - your nerves always managed to make you seem bitchy rather than anxious, which was a win depending on who you asked. You could see the exact moment that he recognized you, his expression faltering for a brief moment; you weren’t sure if his surprise was good or bad.

Your eyes bounced around his face for a moment, flicking down towards his name tag just long enough to read that it said “Steve” in bubble letters; shit, having his name made this so much worse somehow. But you found your voice quickly - although it felt like a lifetime - giving him a blunt and mildly rude, “No.”

You could see a bit of tension between his brows at your response, but he was able to mask it quickly, putting on that false customer service smile while turning his attention back to Shelley. That interaction was damn near mortifying for you, and for weeks after you avoided the food court like a damn plague.

Then, of course, there was that one time you were cleaning up shelves near the front of Spencer’s, minding your business and trying to zone out everything around you, when you felt as if there were a pair of eyes on you. So, you looked around quizzically, up and down the wide aisles of Starcourt, when finally you spotted Steve rubber-necking from across the way just so he could stare at you. Beside him was his fellow Scoops Ahoy employee, and under other circumstances, their matching uniforms would have made the sight of them comical to you, but in this instance all you felt was confusion and nervousness.

Now it was your turn to pull a bewildered expression as a flustered look flashed across Steve’s face. He abruptly pulled his gaze away, pretending to look at the mannequins in the shop window next to him, though he practically tripped over himself in his panic.

Despite your utter confusion, something about it made you smile to yourself while turning back towards your work, though you just as quickly shook off the expression. You were not about to get giddy just because some guy was looking at you - for all you knew, his stare was a bad thing. Maybe he was just trying to remember your face so he knew which store to avoid, or maybe - an even worse thought - he was confusing you with someone else. Regardless, you kept your head down until you were finally done with your task, whisking deeper into the store the moment that you were free.

You were a pretty far cry from Steve Harrington’s usual type - the all-black wardrobe, the intricate make-up, and the wild hair of the goth scene had never been of any interest to him before. In fact, a younger, more entitled and rude Steve would have probably mocked your appearance. The only time he would spare a second glance at someone clad in black was usually because their attire was garishly off-trend, but otherwise he’d never once spared any goth chick a second glance.

That is, until that one morning when he dropped his keys and caught you staring at him.

Steve was almost certain that he’d seen you around before, though only sparingly and in his periphery; he could have been confusing you with some of the other mall goths he’d seen lurking about, but he was pretty damn confident that he recognized you specifically.

He was taken aback by the fact that you were watching him so intently, his interest only amplified by the way your expression morphed from curiosity into a glare before you briskly walked off in the direction of your respective workplace. Steve couldn’t help but watch you go, an intrigue planted in his brain as he looked you up and down, perhaps trying to commit your appearance to memory. He wondered why you seemed so focused on him, which quickly morphed into wondering about you in general.

It was almost refreshing to have someone new to be curious about, considering that chicks seemed to abruptly lose interest in Steve over the summer. It bolstered his confidence to catch you staring at him, a confidence that he didn’t realize had wavered so much.

Oftentimes, Steve would go days at a time without thinking about the goth girl who gave him pause, but every time he thought he was free of you, you’d appear again like clockwork. He’d see you in the parking lot as the two of you rushed into work, on a lunch break trying to scarf down your food so you wouldn’t be late, talking with people who were maybe coworkers or friends. And even that brief, stinted interaction when you were in line at Scoops Ahoy managed to intrigue him despite your rudeness.

Again, it was usually only in passing, but Steve was becoming increasingly aware of your presence… and increasingly aware of the fact that he found you very attractive.

He didn’t know a damn thing about you - not your name or what your voice sounded like or your interests - but Steve was beginning to enjoy those random sightings of you around Starcourt, even looking forward to them as if you were a rare lunar eclipse. Watching you walk quickly across the mall and towards the escalators became a guessing game for him, wondering which shop you worked in - though, he didn’t want to be that guy who would swing by your workplace just so he could catch a glimpse of you. He wasn’t sure what it was about you that he was so drawn to, yet he couldn’t resist looking each time you were nearby.

Robin, of course, wasn’t stupid and caught onto the fact that someone was drawing Steve’s attention every now and then, but for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out who. Although they’d only been friends for a few months at this point, the two of them were practically attached at the hip, so it was strange that Steve wasn’t talking about whoever this new distraction was.

Considering that he all but gave up on flirting with girls at Scoops and hadn’t been on a date in months - so far as Robin was aware - it only made this scenario all the more intriguing to her. Now, Robin was committed to figuring out who had caught Steve’s eye and why he wasn’t saying anything about it.

She finally got her answer one day as the two of them were walking through Starcourt after work, Robin insisting on stopping into a couple of stores before leaving. She noticed Steve clearly focused elsewhere, and so she tried to slyly look around, hoping she’d pinpoint the chick that had Steve’s head turning. Evidently, he must have been caught, because Steve whipped his attention around rapidly, even stumbling over his feet as he tried to play nonchalant.

So, Robin looked back while stifling her laugh, eyes scanning the crowds for anyone who could be the culprit - she was expecting it to be obvious, to see a gorgeous girl in preppy clothes with equally as generic hair and make-up. But when no one instantly stood out, it made her pause, eyes focusing in on each and every face more carefully.

Steve hadn’t realized that she stopped walking until he was a few paces ahead, looking either side of him before turning around towards his best friend. His brows furrowed with confusion as he asked what she was doing, but Robin was too focused to answer; so, he walked back towards her, trying to follow her line of sight, still feeling a touch frazzled by the fact that you’d caught him staring at you so damn openly.

It took a minute, but Robin was still coming up blank - no one looked to be Steve’s type at all. She turned her attention back to him, eyes narrowing with a scrutiny that was making him nervous all over again.

“Who were you looking at?” Robin asked. Steve’s brow rose with worry that he’d been caught before he tried to put on a false show of innocence.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit.” Robin’s expression became even more scheming, eager to play detective and uncover what Steve wasn’t telling her, “Don’t play dumb, I know you’ve been distracted by someone recently, so who is it?”

Despite it being an uphill battle, Steve still tried to feign confusion, “I haven’t been distracted by anyone.”

“You’re not as subtle as you think.” Robin smiled devilishly, looking around Starcourt again, “So, why are you afraid of just telling me?”

Steve stared dumbly at her for a moment, heart drumming nervously as if he’d committed some kind of crime. With a deep sigh, he shook his head while looking down at the ground in defeat - he figured the worst Robin could do was pick on him a little, so there was no reason to be this secretive about it.

So, Steve looked back towards Spencer’s, half hoping you wouldn’t be at the front of the store, but you were still there directly in his sight. He pointed towards you, praying that you wouldn’t happen to look back up just like you did a couple of minutes ago. Robin followed his finger, her brow knitted together when the only person who fit the bill even slightly was you, the goth chick with the “don’t talk to me” attitude.

She looked between you and Steve, back and forth enough times that it was nearly slapstick; everything she knew about Steve up to this point hadn’t prepared her for the realization that maybe goth could be his type. Is that why he hadn’t mentioned it, why he hadn’t once discussed a new crush he was maybe developing?

Once the shock of it had passed, Robin’s eyes lit up with amusement, which only made Steve sigh in preparation for the inevitable annoyance she was about to be, “How the hell do you know her?”

“I don’t know her.” Steve insisted quickly, “I just started noticing her, that’s all.”

Robin’s expression grew giddier as she bumped her shoulder into his, “Then when are you going to try to get to know her?”

“I’m not.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Why?” Robin couldn’t help but grow invested in the scenario, especially because Steve was being so resistant to it, “What’s the harm in just talking to her?”

“I don’t know if I’m even into her, let alone if she’d give me the time of day.” Steve argued as if it were the most obvious thing.

“Only way to find out is to try.” Robin sing-songed, delighting in her best friend’s torment.

“And be on the receiving end of that glare again? Yeah, no thanks.” Robin shook her head at his stubbornness, prepared to keep up her taunts, but Steve spoke again before she got the chance to, “Look, drop it, I’m not gonna talk to her.”

“But aren’t you at least a little curious? Maybe she’s your soulmate.” Robin teased as Steve began walking again, all too invested in putting as much distance between you and him as possible. She had to jog a few steps just to catch up with him again, “Come on, Steve, just go for it.”

“I’m really not as interested as you think I am.” Steve argued as Robin looked back towards Spencer’s again briefly. She hummed with doubt, clearly not convinced by the disinterested front he put up; as Steve’s best friend, she decided it was her job to just give him the little nudge he needed, she just had to figure out how and when.

As if he could tell that she was scheming, Steve raised his brows with a warning look that was far from intimidating, “Robin, don’t.”

She continued to mull things over, quite intent on her new mission, but to appease Steve, she nodded noncommittally while rolling her eyes, “Sure, whatever, I’ll drop it…”

Eventually, Thanksgiving had come and gone; with the cold weather now a mainstay in Hawkins, you stupidly mourned the fact that Steve (and god how you wish you could just forget that name) was now wearing pants instead of those little shorts. Despite your best efforts not to think about him too much, you could no longer resist letting him cross your mind from time to time.

Around that same time that the shorts were retired for the coming winter, your manager had roped you into a supervisor role that you didn’t even want; it was more thrust upon you once they began hiring seasonal staff to help with the influx of holiday customers. This meant that you were constantly swamped with tasks, overworked and underpaid as you seemed to spend every damn day at Starcourt covering shifts or counting inventory or arguing with the delivery guys over damaged shipments.

And all for a minimum wage position at some gag store like Spencer’s freaking Gifts? You decided that you may have to do some job hunting once the holidays had come to an end.

To top it all off, you were now stuck short staffed for the closing shift on Christmas Eve thanks to two employees calling out “sick;” really, you thought it was ridiculous that Starcourt was even open on the holiday, but nothing was going to stop capitalism America from catering to those last-minute, needy shoppers.

Honestly, you didn’t celebrate the holiday, so it wasn’t as if being at work was keeping you from family or friends or parties - but you really weren’t excited to deal with argumentative customers and theft and the impatient crowds of people who simply couldn’t be bothered to do their shopping any sooner. That was the kind of shit that was bound to make you rip your hair out.

But, alas, here you were, trying to keep it together as shoppers crammed into the small store, ruining displays, asking for price checks, being rude and dismissive with the kids at the registers. It was exactly the kind of chaos you were expecting, and yet somehow it was even more insufferable than you had prepared yourself for.

Considering that you were the keyholder for tonight, you tried your damnedest to keep the ship known as Spencer’s afloat - you were all too happy to get confrontational with rude customers, get your fellow employees off the registers when it was clear shit was becoming too much, ran back and forth from the stockroom to the store floor in your best effort to keep the shelves full. The stress of it all dared to turn you into an addict of some kind, because right now you could definitely use a fix of something that you couldn’t even name.

The shop was only set to be open for another half hour, and although the crowd had thinned, there were still far too many customers here for your liking - at this rate, you’d be stuck at work half the night just trying to get everyone out of here and get the store closed properly. At least the staff looked less stressed than before, at least you had the chance to breathe between shopper complaints and demands, though that did little to alleviate your frustrations.

As you were busy putting out the last few boxes of He-Man figures that had been flying off the shelf all goddamn night, you could sense someone approaching you from the corner of your eye, a question hurriedly leaving their lips before you even had a chance to greet them.

“Would it be a little vulgar if someone gave this as a gift to the person they were interested in?” Your brow furrowed as you met the eyes of a girl about your age, her freckled face cute and friendly as she held out a pillow in the shape of tits. You looked back and forth between the gag pillow and her face a few times; although you were exhausted by the day you had, something about her question dared to amuse you, as if she knew that you needed some kind of pick-me-up.

And it had almost worked, too, until you noticed the man who had followed just a step behind her; he dragged his hand down his face uncomfortably, shaking his head while hissing her name frantically beneath his breath. His posture suggested he was exacerbated - as if he didn’t want to be here or as if they’d already had this conversation or as if he was embarrassed. It then took you another split second to realize who he was, as he wasn’t wearing that familiar uniform that you’d been trying and failing to ignore for months.

It was Steve.

Your expression instantly sobered as he looked between you and the girl, his panicky, apologetic gaze making you nervous instantly. Just like you had done nearly half a dozen times since learning of Steve’s existence, you impulsively glowered at him as if to dismiss your fears, although you immediately cursed yourself for doing something so stupid.

But maybe he didn’t notice, because his attention was already on the girl instead, brows raised with surprise at her behavior, his attitude akin to that of a scolding parent tired of their kid’s shit, “Jesus, Robin, really?”

Robin shrugged defensively, although there seemed to be some kind of knowing amusement in her eyes, a twinkle of mischief, “Well, I wanted a second opinion.”

“Oh yeah, sure you did.”

You looked between the duo awkwardly, not wanting to walk away considering that you were on the clock, but so wishing to be anywhere but here right now, as you could feel your face growing warm simply because Steve was standing right here in front of you.

In a measly attempt to calm your nerves, you returned focus to the box of figures you’d been unloading just a few moments ago. Beside you, the two bickered in hushed tones, just quiet enough that you weren’t really sure what the problem was or what they were saying to one another.

You took a deep breath through your nose, pressing your lips together as you put the last Skeletor up on the shelf; you had to decide if you were going to leave them to their squabbling or try to assist them. And for whatever reason, you chose professionalism over your selfish desire to get the hell out of dodge.

“Depends on how well you know the person.” You said plainly, cutting through their spat and quieting the both of them. You picked up the now empty box while looking from one pretty face to the other, your gaze tired from the long day that you’d had, “If they’re already a friend, hopefully they’ll laugh, but some fake tits probably won’t make someone interested in you.”

Your nose scrunched as you mulled over the girl’s question again, looking down at the stupid pillow that was dangling forgotten in her hand. A silent conversation was clearly happening between Robin and Steve, if their expressive faces were anything to go on. You sighed deeply, closing your eyes for a moment to compose yourself - it was damn near closing time, and the last thing you needed was to be stressing out over the guy that you did not have a crush on. He was just nice to look at, that’s all, though having him here just a few feet in front of you made you antsy as all get-out.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” You asked dully, drawing their attention back to you; you tried not to swallow nervously under the inviting warmth of those deep brown eyes.

Although he looked about ready to say something, Robin spoke first, her tone purposeful to the point that it was suspicious, “Actually, if you don’t mind, Steve here was looking at something behind the counter; could you show it to him?”

Steve shot Robin a look that seemed to be either a threat or a plea, and you continued to look between them with doubt, uncertainty, and trepidation; your shift had already been ridiculous as it is, and whatever shenanigans were clearly going on here was the last thing you wanted to worry about. Once again, you could see some kind of conflict happening even without any words being spoken between them.

So, you sighed decisively, shaking your head a little, “I’ll meet you up at the counter whenever you’re ready.”

You ducked into the storeroom to discard your empty box, taking a moment to breathe and relax before peeking out the door to see if your walking away had prompted Steve and Robin to leave or if they were still lingering around somewhere. A muttered “fuck” passed between your lips as you saw them clearly bickering near the front entrance, as if one wanted to go and one wanted to stay. You rolled your eyes up towards the ceiling because of course this would happen to you tonight, obviously the one person you’d been mildly attracted to recently would show up at your workplace when you were at your most stressed. So damn typical.

Collecting yourself, you walked from the storeroom towards the front counter, curious if they’d actually come up to look at whatever the hell Steve was supposedly interested in; really, you were hoping they’d just give up and leave, it would certainly make your night easier. You tried your damnedest to not look back over in their direction, letting the other customers serve as a much needed distraction, ringing up their purchases and trying to shoo them out and close shop as quickly as possible.

You were starting to think that the rush to lock up the store for the night had dissuaded Steve and Robin, because you couldn’t see either of them from your vantage point at the checkout counter. And by some miracle, you didn’t have any customers in need of assistance - at least for the moment - so you let your shoulders deflate, a relieved sigh escaping you. Less than ten minutes and you’d be able to lock the doors.

But your luck had run out almost immediately, because you saw someone coming up to the counter from the corner of your eye; preparing yourself, you took a deep breath and turned, though your confidence had withered away the moment you met their eyes.

Steve approached you alone, Robin nowhere in sight, which made your nerves even worse than before. His mouth was open as if he was about to speak, but no words were coming out, looking like he was frozen beneath your gaze; you had to resist that impulsive urge to glare, though you were certain you nonetheless didn’t look terribly approachable.

He leaned stiffly against the counter, trying his best to look easy and unbothered despite clearly feeling the opposite. You simply stared for a moment, unsure of yourself, before you managed to pull it together at least briefly.

“What was it that you wanted to look at?” You asked in your monotonous customer service voice, bracing your hands on the counter as if that could keep you calm and steady.

“There wasn’t actually anything,” Steve finally found his voice as he looked nervously between your eyes. Your brow curved up curiously, though a part of you had nearly suspected that answer.

“Yeah, I figured.” Your tone came off colder than you intended, and it caused apprehension to immediately flashed across Steve’s face. Realizing your mistake, you looked around yourself before rounding the counter, walking purposefully as if you had something else you needed to be doing, though all you were really doing was trying to escape. You could feel Steve following, the crowded shelves of merchandise forcing him into nearly too close proximity behind you.

“Sometimes Robin just says things, you know, she can be funny like that.” Steve explained as your expression furrowed, wondering what his deal was. You stopped walking abruptly, causing Steve to bump right into you, ill-prepared for the sudden halt. As he quickly apologized, he steadied his hands on your shoulders for the briefest of seconds, just as suddenly snatching them away as if he’d been burned by you.

You spun around to face Steve, his body so close to yours that you practically bumped noses in the process; your eyes widened nervously, taking in his handsome face as you tried to keep yourself composed. Steve’s string of repeated “sorry”s tapered off, his mouth ajar as his eyes grew larger, too, gaze bouncing around your face rapidly.

“Well,” You started in what you hoped was a confident, disinterested tone, “we close in about five minutes… so if you plan on buying something, you should probably go check out.”

Steve nodded dumbly as he looked between your eyes before he dropped his gaze towards the ground; you realized he had absolutely no merchandise in hand, “Uh huh, yeah, I’ll do that.”

You licked your lip, taking in the pretty way his hair fell in his face and the unsure look in his eyes. For a moment, you became engrossed in him, feeling your own expression soften the longer you stared. But just as quickly, you shook yourself out of it, trying to speak with an air of finality that simply didn’t land, “I… hope you have a good holiday?”

Steve looked up at you through his lashes, though you turned quickly to continue walking away before you could get caught up in his eyes. But apparently he wasn’t ready for the conversation to end just yet, because he followed after you and continued, “Sorry, wait--”

You paused with a deep, nervous sigh, getting more and more edgy as the moments ticked by. What could this clean-cut, vanilla guy possibly want with someone like you?

You spun again, crossing your arms comfortingly in front of you while raising a brow; you realized after you’d done it that you probably looked pissed and defensive rather than nervous. When you didn’t say anything, Steve tripped over himself while trying to find his words, cheeks tinged with pink as he looked anywhere but your eyes.

“Look, I know I’m holding you up and you probably want to get home to your family or a boyfriend or something, I mean, it’s Christmas Eve, of course you’d have plans,” he started quickly, and there was something so damn charming about it that you couldn’t help the way your eyes lit up, gaze softening as you studied him; even still, your heart beat quickly inside your chest, “but I just, uh, I’ve seen you around the mall and thought I’d… introduce myself.”

Steve finally looked between your eyes again, and it appeared that your expression only made him more anxious, because he began yet another spiel, “God, that makes it sound like I just go around introducing myself to every damn person in the mall. I don’t - honestly that would be a lot of work - I mean that I wanted to talk to you specifically, you know.”

You couldn’t help the surprised grin that tugged at the corner of your mouth, absolutely taken aback by the unexpected personality behind the handsome face. Considering that you’d only ever watched Steve from afar and barely interacted with him once before, you let yourself think he was some uninteresting, dull guy. That little assumption made it so much easier to ignore the desire to stare at him, to forget about him more often than not. Now that you were so close and seeing his actual personality come through, he was, unfortunately, winning you over far too easily for your liking.

“Oh, you’re smiling, that’s good,” Steve said, his eyes growing larger as if he hadn’t planned on saying that out loud. Pushing his hair back in a fluid motion, he looked around the store while trying to take a deep breath, “You’re kinda scary, you know that?”

An unexpected laugh escaped you, your rigid posture relaxing a hair more, “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”

“It’s not a bad thing,” Steve held up his hands as if he were approaching a skittish animal.

“I know.” You responded without thinking; once again, your goddamn nerves were making you come across like a total bitch, “Uh, usually it makes people less interested in talking to me.”

There was something of a frenzied look in Steve’s eyes, and you realized that maybe your blunt attitude was causing him panic. His posture had grown a touch more tense than it already was, and your fear of fucking up was causing a chaos of butterflies in your chest.

But in that same moment, you remembered that you were still on the clock and desperate to close the store, your mind going back into work mode as you hissed a small “shit” beneath your breath.

“Look, I gotta close,” You started, catching the way Steve’s face fell in defeat. You quickly added in what you hoped was a more friendly tone than the one you’d been using all night, “but, uh… it was nice talking to you.”

Your expression furrowed with uncertainty, looking between Steve’s eyes as you awaited a possible acceptance or rejection to what you just said. Mirrored back to you was his own trepidation and doubt, as if he hadn’t quite understood what you said.

When he didn’t respond right away, you raised your brows questioningly, “Maybe… we’ll chat sometime?”

The question prompted Steve to nod quickly with a slightly improved look on his face, though he still seemed dumbfounded, “Yeah yeah, totally.”

You stared at each other for a long, awkward minute, neither really knowing what to say or do next. The tension between you filled your head with concern, and you were growing more and more confused the longer that you lingered.

“Well, uh… bye.” You said dumbly before awkwardly turning your back, walking deeper into the store so you could take even just a minute to calm the fuck down. You pulled a critical face at your own stupid behavior, muttering about how crudely you handled that pathetic excuse of a conversation. You tried to shake it off, knowing that you still had to get the rest of the customers moving so you could lock the damn doors, but you feared Steve would be a nagging little distraction in your mind until you finally made it back home.

Despite knowing better, you couldn’t help but look back over your shoulder apprehensively - you weren’t sure if you wanted to meet Steve’s eyes, or if you were hoping he’d already walked away. A jolt of anxiety shot up your spine when you found that he was still watching you, looking to be in deep consideration as if he was trying to make sense of that frazzling interaction. You both startled and turned away from each other at the same time, and all you could wonder is if you had fucked up enough that you’d scared Steve away.

When you finally had Spencer’s closed for the evening, you walked out in a group with your coworkers, everyone bracing themselves for the cold, teeth chattering and arms shivering. The parking lot was still littered with a couple dozen cars as you all moved together - clearly other Starcourt employees were stuck working even later than you.

You were barely listening to the eager conversation happening between the others, who were discussing their plans for the holiday; stupidly, you were still hung up on your conversation with Steve. Your day had already been stressful and shitty, so totally biffing that interaction was yet one more dumb notch in your belt. You really shouldn’t have gotten yourself worked up over it, but your nerves clearly had other plans, because now it was the only thing you could think about whether you liked it or not.

The group eventually all went their separate ways as you continued meandering to your stupid little car, not in any rush to get back home. Packed snow crunched beneath your feet as pretty flakes stuck to your face and hair; although it was cold, the night was still and the temperature almost soothing after the long day you’d had.

Unlocking your car, you carelessly tossed your bag into the passenger seat and slid behind the wheel, fumbling with the key as you tried to slot it into the ignition. But once you turned the key, all you got was a sad sputtering sound from the engine, which filled you with instantaneous dread. You paused for a moment before trying again, yet once more, the car wouldn’t start.

Really? One more goddamn thing to worry about tonight. Grumbling and huffing, you kicked the door open again and popped the hood of the car, though what you were looking for you had no idea - you knew absolutely nothing about cars, hell, you could barely put air in the tires without it becoming a whole goddamn ordeal.

With your hands braced on the lifted hood, you stared down into the old engine as if you’d miraculously figure out what needed to be done; you tried to take deep, calm breaths so that you wouldn’t freak out unnecessarily, but you could feel that impulse slowly bubbling up inside you.

To let out some of the frustration, you kicked the front bumper, your heavy boot protecting you from feeling any pain on impact. Your arms fell with defeat to your sides, because, unfortunately, simply staring at the engine did nothing to resolve the problem.

Around you, other cars left the parking lot slowly, but no one made an effort to stop and offer you assistance, not that you were really expecting any help to begin with. Headlights reflected off the glistening snowy surfaces, frost and ice crackled under tires, and you stood there like some sad, pathetic ghost of Christmas whatever-the-fuck.

“Need a hand?” A voice called from behind you, taking you by surprise, considering that you assumed the driver was simply going to pass by and ignore you. You sighed deeply to get your stress under control, because without looking you already knew exactly who it was that offered you assistance; at this rate, it was damn near ridiculous and ironic that he’d be the one to show up to your rescue.

You turned slowly to face Steve, hoping you didn’t look too pathetic as a small glare settled in your eyes. He hung out the window of his car, brow knotted with worry as he looked between you and your shitty vehicle; you leaned your rear against the front of your car, crossing your arms to protect yourself from both the cold and Steve.

“You’re not following me, are you?” You jested with little amusement, because what else were you supposed to do after the shitty day you’d had?

“Not on purpose.” Steve answered simply, pulling in next to you and putting his car in park, “Battery?”

You shrugged with a melodramatic sweep of your arms, a defeated, sad laugh escaping you, “Who fucking knows.”

There was a decisiveness to Steve’s expression as he climbed out of his vehicle and popped the hood, opening the trunk and digging out some jumper cables. The focused look on his face helped to ease you despite the way your night was going, and it very nearly made you smile through your frustrations.

“Well, let’s hope this works.” Steve said as he hooked up the cables, double checking his work along the way to make sure he didn’t blow up either engine. Eventually, he pointed towards your driver door, “See if we can get this started up.”

You nodded quickly as the two of you slid into your respective driver's seats, Steve starting his car up first; but after three attempts, your damn car still wouldn’t start, and you slumped back into the seat, groaning loudly while tugging at your hair in frustration; god, what kind of shit luck were you dealt?

Steve came up and leaned in the open door frame, eyes sympathetic as he gazed down at you; you didn’t even have the energy to be nervous about his close proximity or the gentleness of his gaze. A weak laugh escaped you as you shook your head, “As if tonight couldn't get any worse.”

You met Steve’s eyes, looking between them pitifully as the cold of the evening began to seep into your bones. He stared back sympathetically, his expression troubled by the fact that he couldn’t fix the problem for you. Despite all your earlier nerves and awkwardness around him, all you felt right now was amity between you two.

“Thanks for trying.” You sighed, resting your head back and staring absently at the ripped and tattered ceiling. You swallowed down the upset lump in your throat, “I meant what I said earlier - about wanting to chat sometime, I mean.”

A faint smile graced Steve’s lips as he glanced down at his feet a moment, meeting your eyes again kindly, “Bet you weren’t expecting it to go like this, though.”

You shook your head while closing your eyes as a smirk dared to tug at the corner of your mouth, “Not in the slightest…”

Steve wet his lips as his brow furrowed again, looking around at the parking lot that was growing emptier as the minutes ticked by. His face was contemplative for a long beat before he brought his attention back to you while taking a deep breath, “Let me give you a ride.”

You balked at the suggestion, shaking your head quickly, “You really don’t have to do that, I’ve caused you enough trouble--”

“What else am I supposed to do, leave you stranded here?” Steve interrupted, raising his brows for emphasis, waving his hand in a “follow me” motion as he stepped back. You stayed planted in your seat, watching him with uncertainty; Steve gave you another look when you didn’t follow, “Come on; gives us a chance to chat some more, right?”

You hesitated a couple moments longer, but eventually you scooped up your bag and stiffly climbed out of the car; Steve was already in the process of unhooking the cables and closing your hood. As you awkwardly stood there waiting for him to finish, he studied you from the corner of his eye, which prompted your brows to furrow as you went on the defensive.

“You better not be kidnapping me.” Your statement caused Steve to laugh and shake his head at how ridiculous that notion was; he closed the hood of his car next and rounded to the driver’s side.

“You’re scary, remember? I don’t have the balls to kidnap you.” You couldn’t help but smile gaily at his response, which seemed to please Steve, as an equally delighted look crossed his face, “Oh, another smile, good.”

You rolled your eyes, though you were nonetheless still fascinated by how nervous Steve seemed to be around you. As you stared at him for a brief moment, he chewed the inside of his cheek and made another hand gesture before ducking into his car, “Come on, it’s getting cold.”

So, you followed his lead and slid into the passenger seat, though once you closed the door it was like another wave of tension washed over you - stupid as it seemed, you found there to be something so personal about being alone in a car with someone you barely knew. Your posture grew stiff almost instantly, eyes staring straight ahead into the snowy night as Steve cranked up the heat and began a slow crawl across the parking lot.

“Where am I heading?” Steve asked while glancing over at you; you kept your eyes forward as you told him your neighborhood. For a very long minute, the two of you were silent as the strangeness of this scenario dawned on you both. Steve cleared his throat, “Sorry about earlier.”

You glanced over at him with a confused look, trying not to shrink nervously when he turned to face you, “What do you mean?”

“I was bothering you at work,” he started with a shrug, “kinda wasted your time.”

Timidly, you looked back towards him again, thankful that his eyes were back on the road, “You weren’t bothering me.”

Steve made a face as if he didn’t believe you, “Yeah? Could’ve fooled me.”

You hummed in acknowledgement of your earlier attitude, forcing yourself to be a little more communicative so he couldn’t misinterpret you again, “We didn’t really get the time to talk much… and I was nervous.”

Steve laughed, an inviting sound that drew both an amused and confused look across your face. He glanced at you again, shaking his head humorously, “You, nervous? That’s not the impression I got at all.”

The corner of your mouth tugged up as your eyes looked about his face, “Then what impression did you get?”

Steve took a breath, searching for the right way to phrase this, “That you didn’t want to talk to me in the slightest.”

“Oh.” You answered dumbly; when Steve shot you another look from the corner of his eyes, you tried to find your words, “No, I did want to talk to you… just didn’t know how.”

A far too charming smile spread across his lips as he turned to you again, “Didn’t know how?”

“You’re a little scary, too.” You shrugged with a faint grin, which grew larger at the amused twinkle in Steve’s eyes; again, he laughed, a sound that you could easily get used to.

“Never been told I was scary before…” He focused on the road for a long beat, fingers lightly drumming on the steering wheel as he mulled that thought over. Evidently, it prompted another question, because he gave you another curious glance, “Why were you scared of me?”

Your brows rose as you opened your mouth, but you hesitated before any words could come out. Nerves started to drum in your chest again as you felt heat rising up your neck and into your cheeks; and with the way Steve patiently kept looking over at you, the heat became even worse, “I, uh… no reason.”

Steve’s face twisted with suspicion at your lack of an explanation, narrowed eyes shooting a critical look in your direction. Feeling the intensity of his stare, you kept your unblinking gaze on the road, watching the snow falling gently in front of you.

Steve mulled your answer over, recalling that first day he caught you staring, the time you came to Scoops, and finally your first conversation earlier this evening; of course he could suspect reasons for why you would be nervous or hesitant, but he also wasn’t stupid enough to assume anything about you either.

“Well,” he cleared his throat, drawing on all that confidence he once harbored back when he was still King Steve, when he could land any girl he set his sights on. Though that was a side of him that he hadn’t seen nearly this entire year, he figured he had to shoot his shot eventually, “I can tell you why I was scared…”

The way he trailed off made you curious, although there was something dubious about it. You looked back towards him with a knot between your brows, and now that he had your attention, Steve’s face lit up, his smile almost causing you to drop your guard.

“I’ll tell you, but then you have to tell me why you were scared.” You shook your head with an unamused laugh, knowing that when the other shoe dropped it would be something like this. Despite yourself, you grinned, still falling for Steve’s charm even when he had you backed into a metaphorical corner.

“Oh, you wanna know real bad, huh?” You teased, because really that was your only defense between Steve and the nervousness that was crawling over you again. He gave you a short nod, his expression taunting and challenging.

“I mean, the least you could do is tell me, considering that I’m giving you a ride and all…” Steve’s unexpected playfulness took you aback, causing you to gape for a moment, which only seemed to amuse him even more. You tried to relax your expression, to put up a front of disinterest, but it was far too late for that, “So?”

You rolled your eyes and smirked, even as your heart stuttered; shit, you did not want to tell Steve what you thought of him. Maybe you could come up with a convincing lie, or maybe you could just intimidate him again until he gave up. But admitting to the fact that maybe you were crushing on him, that this ordinary pretty boy was somehow winning you over? Nope, that was something you did not want to do.

And yet… why had he come to talk to you in the first place? Why did he want to introduce himself, why was he so willing to help you on Christmas Eve when he should be off somewhere with family or a partner? Your curiosity was growing by the minute.

“Fine.” The word left your mouth before you could second guess it. Steve looked at you almost in disbelief, as if he had convinced himself you wouldn’t take the bait; you stared back, hoping your eyes didn’t give away your hesitation. Despite the warmth in the car, you shivered with nerves and apprehension.

Steve swallowed while looking back towards the road, nodding faintly to himself as he considered whatever the hell was going on in his head. You waited, impatience making you fidgety as your eyes practically burnt a hole in the side of his head.

“How much further to your place?” Your expression twisted with surprise, anticipation put to an abrupt halt thanks to the whiplash that came with the question. You studied Steve for a moment before realizing that maybe he was trying to buy some time or simply avoid the subject all together. Now, you were growing evermore curious, opening and closing your mouth smally as you considered whether or not you’d play along.

“Um, five minutes up the road.” You answered, trying to shake yourself from your mild stupor. Steve simply nodded, and you couldn’t help the way you leaned towards him just a little as if you were studying a newly discovered species, “What, you scared now?”

“No.” Steve looked back at you, “Just wanna make sure I don’t miss your house.”

Your faint smile and narrowed eyes made it clear that you didn’t believe him, though he tried to remain convincing. Slumping back into your seat a little, you kept your eyes locked on Steve, studying him and looking for evidence of hesitation. Considering it was per his suggestion that you agreed to admit anything, you couldn’t help but suspect that it was nerves that got to him, regardless of what he said.

Realizing that your brief time with Steve was soon to come to a close, you frowned forlornly, gaze dropping from his face. Considering that this whole night had been a little weird, you weren’t sure why you were so disappointed that it would end, but… perhaps that was because it felt like something was only just beginning, cheesy as that sounded. A part of you felt that if shit stopped now, it wouldn’t get to start up again - whether that was true or not didn’t matter.

Your heart picked up speed in your chest as you turned your eyes back towards Steve, words spilling from your lips before you could even realize what you were saying, “Can we just drive for a bit?”

Steve’s brows rose in surprise as he looked back over at you, his lips parting as if he had a question to ask, though no words came out. Suddenly embarrassed by your silly request, you raised your hands up as if in surrender, though your tone ended up being defensive.

“I mean, only if you’ve got nothing going on. Stupid of me to ask considering it’s Christmas Eve, but I’ve got nothing to go home to so I just thought…”

You weren’t sure what you thought, that was the whole problem. The look on Steve’s face was tough to read as he considered what you said, and, feeling foolish, you melted into your seat a little as your face twisted self-consciously.

“Let’s drive.” Steve finally said with a certainty to his tone, taking you aback as he gave you a winning look, “Where to?”

You shrugged dumbly, still trying to fend off your chagrin. Steve took you in for a moment before returning his eyes to the road and driving towards an unknown destination.

Only a minute later, he broke through the silence again, “So, is no one home?”

You shook your head, though you realized he almost certainly didn’t see it, “Dad works nights.”

Steve opened his mouth to add something, but stopped to mull it over first, “My parents are out of town. No one’s waiting for me at home, either.”

Although your brows drooped down, you gave a good humored smile as you two met eyes, “Hm, and they didn’t take you?”

“They never do.” Steve smirked and rolled his eyes, though you suspected that a part of him wasn’t nearly as okay with that as he led you to believe.

For a long beat, you studied him in silence, enjoying his profile as he focused on the road; you took in the thoughtful look in his eyes, the inviting shape of his lips, the downturn of his brows. God, you shouldn’t have been feeling all these butterflies thanks to some guy you only just met, and yet they became harder to ignore the longer you stared at Steve’s pretty face.

He, too, looked towards you when he had the chance and took you in closely, making you squirm as his dark eyes trailed from your eyes to your lips, down your neck and body before jumping back up. Lucky for you, he still had to drive, otherwise you may have melted under his intense, deliberate gaze.

About a minute into the silence that settled between you two, Steve turned up the radio, just enough to have background noise but not too loud to be disruptive. Coming through the speakers was some classic Christmas song that made you cringe; as if he caught your averse reaction, Steve switched stations, though the pop rock that took its place was no relief to you. You tried to ignore the music, not wanting to be sour about something as unimportant as that.

Although you still felt tense given the quiet that was stretching out between you and Steve, there was a certain comfort in the silence; driving down an empty road, snow falling gently, and a cute boy to keep you company wasn’t half bad.

Again, you found yourself studying Steve’s features, questions and inquiries coming to mind as the minutes passed - what were his hobbies? Was he from Hawkins, or was he a transplant like you? What were his friends like? Hell, what even was his last name? So many things you could ask, and you didn’t know where to start.

Well, there was one place to start, if you were feeling a little mischievous, but even the thought of it made you anxious and antsy all over again.

“Why were you scared earlier?” You blurted out, your own brows rising in surprise; maybe you had to get a better hold of your nerves, else you might keep saying things without thinking.

Steve shot you an apprehensive glance, though he tried to mask it with a smile, “Ah, so my distraction didn’t work.”

“Not in the slightest.” You grinned even as your nerves made it appear sheepish and noncommittal, “And don’t just say it’s because of the whole goth thing.”

“Well, not the whole goth thing,” Steve teased, pleased with himself when he caught you fighting back an amused look. After a moment, though, he sighed smally, looking around at the neighborhood he was driving through; apparently knowing where he was, he took a turn with some destination inevitably in mind.

You pulled a curious face when Steve didn’t elaborate, when his face settled into a decided look; you considered asking again for fear that he was going to find a means of distracting you once more from the question. But quickly enough, Steve pulled into the lot next to a park - it’s playground covered in snow - and you started growing nervous all over again.

With the car in park, Steve finally turned his undivided attention to you, causing you to unintentionally shrink back in your seat a little; there was a sort of safety that had come with him being preoccupied by driving, but now that his eyes were locked on you, your confidence began to diminish just a bit.

The look on his face held a sincerity that took you aback, and even in the relative dark of the night you could see the unsure gleam in his eyes. He took a deep breath before admitting plainly and assuredly, “I was scared because you were cute and intimidating.”

You blinked at him a couple of times as you processed his words, though they made your heart drum loudly enough that it was damn near distracting. As the seconds ticked by and you didn’t respond, briefly stuck in a dumbfounded look, Steve’s expression slowly fell into a look of dismay.

Getting antsy, he fumbled to elaborate, “I was interested in you, is what I mean. I wanted to get to know you, maybe flirt and see if we were compatible, you know, that sort of thing.”

Stupidly, you blinked at him again, feeling heat rising in your face - fuck, he thought you were cute, too. That should’ve been a relief, so why the hell did it make you even more nervous than you were before? You forced yourself to look away from his face as your eyes got big, because shit the butterflies in your stomach were going absolutely crazy right about now.

“You… were interested in me…” You muttered like a total idiot, but at least you finally found your voice again. Gazing up at him through your lashes, the look on Steve’s face was damn near worried as if he were preparing himself for rejection. Chewing on the inside of your lip, you finally smiled, bashfully dropping your gaze even as you tried not to sound as nervous as you felt, “I thought you were cute, too. Never had the guts to talk to you, though.”

A relieved little laugh leapt from Steve’s throat, his posture relaxing as he stared at you wide-eyed, almost as if he didn’t entirely believe you. Looking back up at Steve made your face and ears grow even hotter, his excitement at your response unexpected but nonetheless encouraging, even as you picked at your nails nervously.

“Oh, thank god, that makes this so much easier,” Steve breathed out, causing you to giggle, a delighted sound that was so unlike you.

As Steve continued to stare at you with disbelief, you tried to stop fidgeting with your fingernails, tried to relax the nervous energy in your chest because yes, this should be easier like he said, yet your body’s reaction would lead one to assume you were in all-out panic mode.

“You didn’t have the guts?” Steve asked with a laugh, “You saw how nervous I was to talk to you, right?”

You rolled your eyes with a fond shake of your head, “At least you did it; I figured a pretty guy like you wouldn’t be interested in me.”

“I thought you wouldn’t be interested in me.” Steve found himself staring at your lips, the temptation to lean over and kiss you coming over him abruptly, though he tried to shove it aside and ignore it, “So, I guess maybe I should ask you out now, right?”

You nearly giggled again as you looked between his eyes with a pondering expression, “I mean, we’re already here - alone, getting to know each other…”

Steve laughed smally, his eyes taking you in, “Oh, so this is a date now?”

You raised your hands in a vague, unsure motion, a faint knot between your brow, “Could be?”

Another charming smile crossed Steve’s lips, and you were still astounded at the fact that you could make him grin and laugh so damn easily. The look on his face was sweet as his gaze swept gently over your face, looking between your eyes and your mouth like he was studying you closely; when he finally drew his attention away, it was to stare out the windshield and watch the snow fall.

“You're not what I expected,” he started as you absently began to fiddle with your nails again, “I was worried you’d be mean, or that you’d laugh at me.”

An embarrassed smile drew across your lips as you took the opportunity to enjoy his profile again, “If I didn’t like you, I would’ve been mean… and I did laugh at you, once, when I first saw those stupid shorts you used to wear.”

A chuckle leapt from Steve’s throat as he looked back at you, “Yeah, they’re kinda ridiculous, aren’t they?”

“Your entire uniform is ridiculous.” You laughed gleefully, “But I… liked it.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed teasingly, “Oh, so that’s why you were staring.”

Easily flustered, you diverted your gaze down towards your hands, focusing on the chipped nail polish that you’d been fussing with, your face growing hot yet again,“Well, I just… yeah, okay, that’s why I was staring.”

Steve leaned in close towards you, dipping his head to try and catch your eyes, “If you hadn’t been staring, I wouldn’t have noticed you.”

You glanced up through your lashes, a faint grin on your lips as you met Steve’s attentive stare, “Then I guess we’re both lucky you have nice legs.”

Steve laughed again with utter amusement, something almost like wonder alight in his eyes; you thought he may have leaned in a little bit closer, but you weren’t quite sure. He glanced down at your hands briefly, watching the way you continued to gently scratch at your nail polish before meeting your eyes.

“I mean this in the nicest way possible, but you’re a little strange.” Your brows rose at the comment, and so Steve continued, “Well, wait, don’t get mad about that. What I’m saying is that your energy is really nervous, but you don’t come across like you’re scared at all, you know what I mean?”

You looked between Steve’s eyes, wondering how he had managed to clock you so damn easily. Your nail picking became a little more aggressive as you came to your own defense, feeling jittery as you spoke quickly, “Yeah, I know I can come across pretty bitchy when I’m nervous, it’s landed me in trouble before. I don’t always think when I speak or I don’t know when to shut up, because my head gets all messy and loud, so it’s impossible to think clearly anyway--”

“Can I kiss you?” Steve blurted out with awe in his voice, disrupting your train of thought and causing you to look back at him with large eyes. He even looked surprised at the question, as if it leapt from his mouth without warning or thought; his expression was much like your own, taken aback and confused. He quickly tried to course correct, raising his hands defensively, “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that, that was totally out of left field--”

“Yes.” Steve paused and looked as if he didn’t hear you correctly, brow furrowed while trying to read the look on your face, which was torn between sheepishness and eagerness, “I’d like it if you kissed me, actually.”

Steve, admittedly, had not anticipated your approval of the idea, especially considering how it was asked. He just got so hung up on how damn cute your rambling was that it drew him like a moth to a flame; he wasn’t thinking when the question left his mouth. Shit, you said “yes” and it made his nerves spike, heartbeat eager in his chest as he took in your features a little longer, biding his time so he could calm down.

From where he leaned over the center console, Steve moved in a little closer, looking between your eyes and lips. You mirrored this as if in a trance, body drawing towards him; when you paused, a smile graced his lips as he said firmly but quietly, “Come here.”

You felt a chill up your spine thanks to the simple yet wanton direction, Steve’s delivery of it far more enticing than he probably realized. Despite wanting to kiss him, you felt momentarily frozen as you took him in, hooded eyes becoming enraptured by his lips.

Coming back to yourself, you took a calming breath and moved in closer, and once you were but a few breaths apart, Steve carefully cupped the back of your neck, fingertips grazing through your hair. The touch made you sigh longingly, your body melting in response; a knowing smile graced Steve’s face.

There was a moment’s hesitation between you as Steve’s warm breath brushed across your lips and cheeks; you swallowed down the lump in your throat just before Steve leaned in, closing that short distance between you to capture your lips with his own.

Your body jolted at the feel of his kiss, so soft and tentative, and yet charged with your combined pining for one another. As your body relaxed despite the frantic beating of your heart, your fingertips trailed up Steve’s arm, gently grabbing at his shoulders through the fabric of his coat. His mouth was tender and explorative against yours, touch gentle on the back of your neck as he pressed forth more confidently; you met him with equal need and curiosity, your body growing eager for more as your nerves slowly dissolved away.

When Steve tried to pull back and catch his breath, your grasp became assertive, fingers tightening on his sleeve as your other hand moved to cup his cheek. You felt a small, surprised laugh in his throat, taken aback by your eagerness, though he was just as enamored by it.

He carefully gripped your jaw with both hands, pulling you back just enough for him to take in a gasp of air; you, too, took a deep breath, delighting in the way his lips grazed against yours, the way his thumb lazily trailed along your cheek.

After a beat of consideration, Steve kissed you again needily, fingertips firm along your jawline as a fire lit up inside you. Your lips grew feverish as you leaned in closer, curling your fingers in his soft locks while an eager sound rose in your throat. As you kissed him with zeal, Steve matched your desire, mouth growing urgent against yours, grip becoming increasingly possessive while his tongue trailed along your lower lip. With another hungry sigh, you opened your mouth to him, tongues swirling together impatiently, desperate for one another.

You pushed closer to Steve, though the center console pressed irritatingly into your stomach, causing a faint sound of annoyance to rumble in your chest. Wanting to be so much closer, you broke away from the kiss abruptly, though his lips chased yours, gently nipping at your jawline as goosebumps broke out across your skin.

Finding your voice, you managed to instruct breathily, “Move your seat back.”

A huff of a laugh escaped Steve as he muttered against your neck, “What?”

You gave his hair a tug, directing him to look you in your lusty eye while repeating slowly, “Move the seat.”

He looked between your eyes for a moment before your reasoning dawned on him; he nodded quickly, pulling away so he could slide the seat back, creating enough space between him and the steering wheel for you to slot into. And you did just that, gracelessly crawling over the center console, careful not to crush Steve with wayward limbs or unsteady knees.

Once situated in his lap, you laughed smally at yourself while resting your hands comfortably on either side of his neck. Steve smiled at the way you bit your lip, hands firm as they settled on your hips; his hooded eyes took you in adoringly. Impatiently, your lips crashed onto Steve’s once more, feeling his fingers flex against you, eager little sounds escaping your throat.

Hooking your arms around Steve’s neck, you kissed him yearningly, his hands creating a hot, greedy trail down your back, pressing you flush against him as if he couldn’t get enough. The movement caused your hips to roll against his, making the both of you moan into the other’s mouth from the friction. The way your lips moved together was aching and salacious, tongues explorative and hands grabby as if trying to consume each other whole.

Even as he kissed you and groped at your body lewdly, there was something undeniably tender about Steve’s touch; his lips were endlessly hungry for yours, he held you close as if fearful of letting go. It caused a knot of arousal to twist in your stomach, your body blazing and impassioned after all these months of watching him and wondering what he tasted like.

Steve’s hands roamed your body in a slow, amorous crawl, teasing down your spine and grabbing at your ass, sending an eager shiver through you as if there weren’t all these layers of clothing keeping your skin separate from one another. Your mouths became even sloppier, kisses ravenous as you breathed each other in and tasted each other’s tongues, keen moans passing between your lips to his.

Your own grip at Steve’s neck and hair was growing possessive and domineering, tugging at his locks and scratching his skin enough that he whined shamelessly. Emboldened by the heat scorching between you, your hips rolled once more, slow and deep, making Steve’s fingers dig into the meat of your ass as he groaned; the sound was far too encouraging, causing a coil to tighten in your center. You moved to hold his jaw softly in either hand, breaking away from his lips hastily with a big gasp for air.

For a long beat, you stared at one another through lusty, hooded eyes, watching the way Steve licked his lip as he watched the rise and fall of your chest. His lips were so damn inviting, and you wanted to lean right back in for more, yet you didn’t want to get ahead of yourself, didn’t want to be greedy for more than you could take. Steve’s hands gently trailed up your back again, finding a comfortable resting place at your waist, where his fingers drew absentminded circles into the back of your coat.

While staring at Steve’s handsome face, an airy laugh fell from your mouth, your eyes lighting up softly; his brow furrowed in response, leaning forward to tease at your lips, nose gently bumping yours.

“What?” You could hear the grin in his whispered question, causing you to laugh again, your smile causing your lips to brush gently; the intimacy of the moment dared to give you butterflies as you nearly shivered.

You bit the inside of your cheek in an effort not to giggle again, pulling back from Steve so you could trail your thumb along his jaw and to his plush lower lip, “You got a little something…”

Steve looked as if he was about to ask you to elaborate, but the gentle way that you cleaned his lip with your thumb stalled him as a captivated sigh left his throat. He realized then what you meant, noticing the way your near-black lipstick had smudged around your mouth; he laughed, too, while trying not to moan from how much he enjoyed your sweet and careful touch. Once you were certain you’d gotten most of your lipstick off of him, you delicately held his chin as if to inspect your work.

“Is making out with you always going to be messy?” He teased, bringing a hand up to help you with a smear of lipstick that was under your nose. Your cheeks warmed as you fondly rolled your eyes, half-tempted to lean back in for another kiss as if to prove a point.

You hummed smally in your throat, “Only if it becomes a regular thing.”

Steve’s brows rose cheekily as a large smile spread across his face, “Oh, I plan for it to.”

Heat rose in your cheeks again as you bit your lip, laughing faintly while looking away from his eyes as if bashful, “Do you?”

He leaned towards you again, trying to catch your eyes with his, “Well, I’d still like to take you on a real date, so, yeah, I’m counting on this becoming a regular thing.”

Another uncharacteristic giggle left you as a swell of excitement filled your chest, “Then maybe I have to do something new with my lipstick so you’re not wearing it by the end of every date.”

Steve shook his head, hands gently sliding down your neck and to your back as he stared at your lips again, “Don’t change it, I like it too much.”

You leaned in close again, lips grazing with Steve’s as you whispered flirtatiously, “Good, because I think I like kissing you.”

Steve’s nose brushed gently against yours, his lashes tickling your skin as you felt a faint smile on his lips, “You think?”

“Might need to do a little more of it just to make sure.” You planted a teasing kiss against his lips before pulling back, which made his hands grip tight on you as if you were something coveted.

“Well,” Steve’s lips were gentle as they grazed against yours, his voice low and sweet as his fingertips trailed along your back, “should we make sure now? You’ve got me all night, if you want.”

You hummed as if you were mulling the suggestion over, hoping that you were making Steve antsy from the wait. You smiled fondly as your hands wove into his hair, tugging gently as your lips hovered just centimeters away from his; when he tried to kiss you, you pulled back tauntingly, causing a faint sound of impatience in Steve’s throat. Unable to resist the laugh that escaped you, you caved to his desire and you pressed your lips longingly to his.

Addt. Author's Note | I'm currently working on a follow-up to this oneshot because I just can't get enough of these two! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for that, please let me know, I hope to get it out soon!

Tags | @doomsdaybby @eddiernunson @k-yurieee @mediocredreams @raven-hawkins

@thecreelhouse @viviennemcgloine

#thetwelvedaysofpromptmas 🎄#thetwelvedaysofpromptmas #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things

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akascow · 9 hours ago

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yeah so we celebrated it on friday night (20th) which didnt help with that either so christmas was just nonexistant for me this year :/

the christmas spirit has been abysmal for me this year

#just my favorite holiday (in terms of feel good vibes) but yeah no worries :////#at least the kittens like the tree ornaments i guess hfjdjakka #its cmas eve and i didnt even notice ugh #anyway i hope everyone else who celebrates has a better cmas :) merry christmas :)

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yelenasdiary · 20 hours ago

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soft fluffy nat where the two of you are in love with each other but haven’t confessed. nat is superrrr into the holidays like it surprises everyone but she’s proud of it. she knows you haven’t had the best christmas previous years and she’s determined to make this the best one for you. she loves everything like baking (nat cannot cook that is canon but i honestly think she could bake lowkey😭) putting up the christmas tree in the compound and decorating it. she’s just super soft around christmas and you just fall even more in love with her. you share sweet moments together throughout the days leading up to christmas and eventually the two of you confess and ugh i love soft nat i miss her

Waiting Under The Mistletoe

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Summary: You and Natasha have been struggling to admit your feelings for one another.

Fluff, Tiny Angst

Warnings: None, if there is any, please let me know! | 1.2K

AC: Happy Christmas Eve!!! Thank you for sending this! I hope you enjoy! x

Holiday Special Masterlist

It was that time of year again, Christmas. The time of year where you felt more of a burden than a blessing, but this year felt different already. The compound had turned from its usual dark grey vibe to bursts of festive spirit and colors. As you walked the hall towards the large meeting room, your eyes took in how perfectly the decorations were hung, compliments to Wanda, so you thought.

“Hey!” Natasha called out, making you stop in your tracks as you turned to face her. She smiled softly at you, “on your way to the meeting?” She asked.

“Hopefully the last one for the year!” You chuckled as the two of you slowly began to continue the walk to the others. “What do you say we put the Christmas tree up afterwards?” Black Widow asked, making you cock a brow at her.

“You want to put the tree up?” You asked, intrigued.

“Of course, I mean, I already decorated half the compound over night” she replied proudly.

“Wait, you did all this?” You stopped in your tracks once more, surprised by Natasha’s hidden love for the Christmas season. Natasha chuckled, “who do you think did all this?”

“Wanda” you replied without a second thought.

“Wanda is Jewish” the red head reminded you.

“Yeah but she’s always making sure we’re together for Christmas dinner so I just assumed. You love Christmas? That’s kinda cute” you smiled softly. Natasha’s eyes dropped nervously as her iconic smirk tugged at her lips, “so I’ll take that as a yes?” She said, looking back up at you.

“Alright, but I’m warning you, my tree decorating skills are horrible” you replied.

“I’ll take my chances” Nat playfully winked as the two of you entered the conference room.

It was hard to focus on anything Fury was saying during the meeting with your mind so focused on Natasha and the way her eyes were glued to the piece of paper in front of her, she was always good at putting life aside for work. Outside this room, she was a softy with a love for Christmas but inside the room she was Black Widow, listening to every single word that was said in the meeting with clear understanding.

Once Fury added his last words, the room was dismissed. Nat looked over at you and smiled softly, “ready to put those horrible tree decorating skills to the test?” She teased making you chuckle lightly.

“Are you ready for them?” You asked.

“Like I said, I’ll take my chances, lets go!”

----

Your heart swelled at Natasha’s enthusiasm; it was infectious as you watched her wrap the LED fairy lights around the fake tree while she hummed her favorite Christmas classic softly to herself. With the others hovering around, picking at the baked goodies Nat had baked last night while watching the tough Black Widow decorate a Christmas tree, you couldn’t help but fall deeper for her.

The room echoed with chatter from those around you, but all you could focus on was Natasha. She caught your eye and for a moment, the noise faded. “Now that the lights are on, help yourself to that box of ornaments and get decorating!” She smiled softly. Her soft tone snapping you back to reality as you gave her a playful grin.

“I hope you’re ready for this Romanoff!” You teased, reaching for some of the ornaments in the box beside you. She shot back a smile, “are you sure you know where they go?” She asked in a teasing tone.

“Ha, ha!” You replied sarcastically as you closed the small gap between you and the tree. Natasha stood back for a brief moment to watch you place the first ornament on the tree, she admired the way you took a second to think about where you wanted each ornament to be placed, hanging them on different branches before giving yourself a nod of approval.

The two of you spent the afternoon hanging ornaments on the large tree and wrapping it in shimmering tinsel that sparkled softly against the fairy lights. Nat still softly hummed her favorite Christmas tunes, and you weren’t sure how long it was until they caught you in their trap. The two of you humming softly while twirling around each other.

The days leading up to Christmas slipped by in a blur of laughter and sweet moments, each day your feelings growing stronger for the avenger, as if they could get any stronger. From Natasha sweet talking you into baking with her to helping her wrap presents for the others. Every moment felt more magical than the last.

On Christmas Eve, you found yourself wrapped in a blanket on the sofa, watching holiday movies with the room dimly lit and the tree twinkling softly in the corner. Natasha looked at you for a moment and for that moment, time stood still.

“Everything okay?” You asked, your cheeks feeling warm.

“Yeah” she smiled softly, “everything is perfect” she added.

----

Christmas morning, you woke up to the sound of laughter echoing through the compound. You couldn’t believe you had slightly slept in, you rushed down the stairs where you found Natasha already locking eyes with you. She smiled softly, “good morning sleepy head” she greeted.

“You didn’t wake me?” You questioned, almost forgetting there were others in the room.

“Come here” she replied softly, her eyes sparkling from the tree beside her.

You stepped closer, your heart racing as you realized what was hanging above the redhead. Your cheeks flushed under her glaze as you closed the gap between you two. “I’ve been waiting for this” she said, her voice soft like marshmallows. “I want to tell you something” she paused, her expression shifting ever so slightly.

“These last few weeks have made me the happiest I’ve ever been in a long time and it’s because I got to spend every moment with you” she started, smiling softly. “You make me so happy, I love everything we have shared since we met. I’ve been too afraid to say anything to you because I’d hate myself if I ruined what we already have but, I’m so deeply in love with you that not telling you was driving me crazy. Last night, I wanted to kiss you and tell you but I didn’t want to ruin the moment” she added.

The room fell silent, time standing still as you processed her words. You pinched yourself wondering if you were still asleep, dreaming of a different life but the pain was very much real and the woman you adored was standing in front of you, under a mistletoe, telling you how she felt.

“I love you too” you finally said, your voice slightly breaking with emotions, “I’ve wanted to say that for so long” you added.

A smile broke on Nat’s face, her hands gently placed on your hips as she pulled you closer. “Merry Christmas” she whispered before her lips pressed against yours, making sure you knew that she meant every single word. Kissing you deeply, the two of you not caring that half the compound just watched everything unfold.

“Best Christmas ever” you whispered against her lips, her arms wrapped around you. She smiled softly, “agreed”.

If you want to be on the taglist for my work, please click HERE.

#yelenasdiary asks #daddynattt #snoop #fanfiction #marvel #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x You #Natasha Romanoff #Christmas #Black Widow

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oaksgrove · 15 days ago

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A Life Left Behind

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x ex!Reader, John Price x Reader

Synopsis: When Price accidentally lets it slip at a pub that he has a missus waiting at home, Simon never suspects it could be you. That is, until a snowy Christmas Eve, when fate leads him past a warmly lit window, where the life he could’ve had reveals itself in full, devastating clarity.

Warnings: Heavy angst, themes of regret and break up, bittersweet holiday vibes.

Word Count: 1214

a/n: I’ve had this idea swirling in my head for a while—it’s pure heartbreak with a festive backdrop. English isn’t my first language, and this was witten in a rush, so thank you for your patience and all the support on my writing!

Manchester, UK. october | 9:20PM | 8°C

The vanilla scent of your favorite candle hung in the air, bittersweet against the tension suffocating the room. It reminded Simon of softer nights—of the evenings you spent curled together on the couch, your laughter filling the silence he’d grown so accustomed to before you. The thought was fleeting, a warm ember snuffed out by the cold reality that now stood between you.

You stood by the kitchen counter, arms crossed defensively, your eyes a mix of anger and hurt. Simon loomed near the window, his shoulders hunched as though bracing himself for a blow.

“Say something, Simon,” you demanded, your voice raw with emotion. “Anything.”

He didn’t move at first, his gaze fixed on the street outside. His jaw tightened, the cords of muscle twitching under his skin. “What do you want me to say?” he finally asked, his voice low, restrained—like he was holding back a flood.

You stepped closer, forcing him to meet your gaze. “I want you to tell me this isn’t real. That you don’t mean it when you say it’s better if we break up.”

For a moment, his mask slipped. The conflict in his eyes was like a storm on the horizon—rage, sadness, and guilt all warring beneath the surface. Then he shut it down, closing himself off again. “It is better,” he said, his voice faltering before he hardened it.

“For who, Simon?” Your voice cracked, frustration mingling with the ache in your chest. “Because it sure as hell isn’t for me.”

“For you,” he replied, firmer this time. “You deserve someone who can give you more than this—more than me.”

You could only stare at him, disbelief giving way to anger. “You don’t get to decide that for me! I knew what I was getting into, and I’m here, Simon. I chose you!”

His hand went to the back of his neck, a frustrated gesture you’d seen countless times. “I can’t keep doing this to you,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “You don’t see it now, but you’ll be better off without me.”

Your mind flooded with memories—of Simon’s quiet presence grounding you after bad days, of his rare, unguarded moments of laughter that felt like secrets shared just between the two of you. The way he would silently slip your favorite mug into your hands during cold mornings, the weight of his arm around you as you fell asleep.

“Do you even hear yourself?” you whispered, desperation creeping into your voice. “You’re pushing me away because you think it’s what’s best for me? You’re not even giving me a choice.”

His silence was deafening, his eyes locked on the floor like he couldn’t bear to meet your gaze.

“I hope you believe that one day,” you said, grabbing your coat.

Your feet carried you to the door, and your hand hesitated on the knob. You wanted him to call out, to fight for you, to prove that this wasn’t just another wall he was building. But he didn’t.

You glanced back, and for a moment, he looked as though he might break—his fists clenched, his body taut with tension. But then his gaze dropped, and the words that could have saved you both never came.

“Goodbye, Simon.”

The door clicked shut behind you, and the cold October air wrapped around you as you walked away. Your legs moved on autopilot, but your mind stayed trapped in the warmth of the memories you were leaving behind.

The time he stayed up with you after your first fight, awkwardly holding your hand as he whispered, “I’m not good at this, but I’ll try.” The way he watched you with something close to wonder the night you wore his hoodie, laughing at his terrible attempt at making pancakes. The rare nights he let you in—told you stories of his childhood, of the people he lost. The first time he said, “I don’t deserve you,” and you kissed him before he could finish.

The sound of your own footsteps became unbearable, each one taking you further away from a man who couldn’t see that he was already everything you needed.

The Old Wellington - Manchester, UK. 1 year later, august | 9:45PM | 10°C

The pub buzzed with life, the comforting chaos of clinking glasses and laughter filling the air. Simon sat in the corner, detached, his untouched whiskey warming in his hand. His team’s voices faded into the background as his thoughts wandered to the edges of places he’d been avoiding.

Soap’s voice boomed above the noise, mid-story and gesturing wildly. “And then, just as the guy thinks he’s outsmarted us, the bloody fence gives way and—bam! Flat on his arse!”

Gaz burst into laughter, his grin wide. “You’ve got to be making that up.”

Price leaned back in his chair, chuckling. “It’s true. I was there.”

Simon stared into his glass, barely hearing the conversation. Soap nudged him with an elbow. “Oi, Ghost, are you alive in there?”

Simon glanced up, forcing a faint smirk. “Listening to you lot’s more entertaining than talking.”

“Sure it is,” Soap teased, raising his glass.

Price set his drink down, a rare smile tugging at his lips. “I’ve got to go. It’s already late, missus is waiting for me at home.”

Soap nearly choked on his beer. “Wait a minute. You’ve got a missus? Since when?”

Gaz leaned forward, grinning. “Yeah, Cap. You’ve been holding out on us!”

“She likes her privacy,” Price replied with a shrug, a soft edge to his voice. “But yeah, I’ve got a missus.”

Simon’s grip on his glass tightened. The word missus hit him like a shot, sharp and precise, leaving a dull ache in its wake.

“What’s she like?” Soap asked, clearly intrigued.

Price’s expression softened as he thought about her. “She’s… everything, really. Smart, kind, funny. Keeps me on my toes.”

“She sounds like a saint, putting up with you,” Soap teased with a laugh.

Simon’s chest tightened at the word saint. The thought surfaced before he could stop it. My girl was a saint too…

He swallowed hard, his grip on the glass like a lifeline. He pictured you in his mind—your patience, your warmth, the way you’d look at him like he wasn’t the sum of his mistakes. He’d told himself a thousand times that he’d let you go for your own good, but here he was, haunted by memories he couldn’t shake.

“She is,” Price admitted with a rare smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

Simon looked away, draining his whiskey in one gulp. The burn was nothing compared to the hollow ache in his chest.

“You good?” Price asked, his tone casual but his gaze sharp.

Simon straightened, forcing himself to appear calm. “Just remembered something I’ve got to take care of.”

He stood abruptly, tossing some cash on the table. “Catch you later.”

He left before anyone could question him, stepping out into the cold night air. The sharp chill bit at his skin, but it wasn’t enough to distract him.

She was a saint, wasn’t she? The thought lingered, twisting the knife. But he didn’t deserve saints. He never had.

Manchester, UK. 2 years later, december | 9:45PM | 6°C

Christmas had arrived, cloaking the streets of Manchester in a pristine layer of snow. The world felt hushed, the crunch of Simon’s boots against the frozen ground the only sound in the quiet night. His breath puffed in soft clouds, dissolving into the still air.

He hadn’t planned to be here—hadn’t even realized where his aimless wandering had taken him until he found himself on a familiar street. The glow of your living room window caught his eye, and before he could stop himself, he was standing there, looking in.

The scene inside was alive with warmth. Golden light spilled over the living room, illuminating a Christmas tree laden with ornaments. You stood beside it, a delicate bauble in your hand, your laughter bright as it mingled with the joyous chaos of two young boys crawling around the tree.

Simon’s gaze shifted. Price was there, standing close to you, his arm resting comfortably around your waist. The easy intimacy between you spoke volumes—a language Simon once knew but had long forgotten.

His chest tightened, the ache sharp and familiar. He stood frozen, his breath catching as a memory surfaced unbidden: you, sitting beside him on a cold night like this, your hand in his as you talked about the future. A future he’d convinced himself he couldn’t give you.

Now, here it was, vivid and real—but it wasn’t his.

You turned then, your eyes meeting his through the frosted glass. The moment stretched, fragile and heavy with unspoken words. Your expression softened, a bittersweet smile forming as if you understood everything he couldn’t say.

Simon’s gloved hand brushed the glass, the chill biting through the leather. For a fleeting second, he let himself imagine what it would feel like to step inside, to join the warmth instead of watching from the cold.

But he knew better.

He nodded once, a small, almost imperceptible gesture, before stepping back. The snow crunched softly beneath his boots as he turned away, his silhouette fading into the quiet night.

The ache lingered, but as he walked, it shifted—no longer a weight that dragged him down, but something softer, bearable. You were happy. That was enough.

The falling snow blurred his footprints behind him, erasing the path he’d taken to get here. Simon didn’t look back, his lips twitching into a faint smile. For the first time in years, he felt the beginnings of peace. Because some losses, though painful, could eventually feel like victories when love found its way to where it belonged.

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practicecourts · 24 days ago

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December Jily Challenge Bingo list

Loveliest Tumblr friends, I've got one big full @jilychallenge December bingocard for you, and it's not even extensive, so many other amazing holiday fics that I could swap these for. So feel free to add to this bingo card or share your own!

Some are old, some are new, most are jilychallenges, some are not, some fit the prompt better than others, but they are all lovely and full of winter holiday vibes.

Buying presents:

You Two Are Dancing in a Snow Globe Round and Round - tinyluminaryzombie - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @tinyluminaryzombie

light up the static sky - charmingwillow - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @charmingwillow

Fireworks

even brighter than the moon - ginemrys - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @ginemrys

Find me waiting for you under the mistletoe

Mistletoe Mishaps - Chapter 1 - AnnaBtG - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] - @annabtg

Snowball fight

Midnight Train To London - TedwardRemus - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @tedwardremus

Do You Want To Build A Snowman? - Practicecourts - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own]

Teaming Up - Joyseuphoria - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @joyseuphoria

There's only one tree left

You Need to Branch Out - charmsandtealeaves - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @charmsandtealeaves

Christmas cards

I deserve the truth - Nena96 - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @nena-96

KISS ME BEFORE THE END OF THE YEAR

new year's eve don't fuck around - theesteemedladydebourgh - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @theesteemedladydebourgh

Yule Ball

meet me in the afterglow - koalasmiles - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @savannah-5555

There's only one bed

It's Coming Down, It's Coming Down - ritaskeetered - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @wearingaberetinparis

baby, it's cold outside - ohmygodshesinsane - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @ohmygodshesinsane The longest night of the year

Midwinter Magic - Practicecourts - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own]

Ugly Sweater contest

Heart On Her Sleeve - catj101 - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @booksarelife-stuff

Working (late) on a holiday

Resolutely Lily - Sapphire16 - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @sapphire1616

Taking A Shot At You - AnnaBtG - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @annabtg

Jily in every universe

can this be a real thing, can it? - Zephyrcove - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] by @zephyrcove

In Need of a Christmas Miracle - charmsandtealeaves - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] by @charmsandtealeaves

Jily Challenges | Archive of Our Own

Snow Cherubs & Delayed Deer - YouBlitheringIdiot - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] by @blitheringmcgonagall

Happy Holidays, You Filthy Potters - itsjamespotter - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] by @jamesunderwater

added because HOW COULD I FORGET TO ADD THIS ONE? JILY IN EVERY UNIVERSE by @maluceh

nutmeg, Cinnamon and Orangepeel

Moodboard Family Traditions - orphan_account - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own]

Hot chocolate

Underneath the Tree - Chapter 1 - womeninthesequel - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @women-inthe-sequel

DInner with the INLaws/ meeting the parents

Home for the Holidays - lightningthief - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @notorious-lightning-thief

Ice Skating lessons

Skating on Thin Ice - Chie (Chierafied) - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @chierafied

Slugclub's Infamous Christmas Party

Hair - scriibblehere - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @scriibble-fics

Harry's first Christmas

The Candle Of Hope - AnnaBtG - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @annabtg

Choices and Consequences II - sweeetbabe - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @sweeethinny

Scarves and mittens

Snow Magic - Practicecourts - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own]

Lucky Charm - EastWindmlk - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @eastwindmlk

Lights

Starlight - Elastic_Heart31 - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @suzyq31

Aurora - Chie (Chierafied) - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @chierafied

Secret Santa gone wrong

A Greyhound Bus Christmas - PetalsTheFish, gryffindormischief - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @petalsthefish & @gryffindormischief

The Naughty List - abihastastybeans - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @abihastastybeans

spiked eggnog

Snow Globe - Chapter 1 - charmsandtealeaves - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @charmsandtealeaves

Hugging just for Warmth

I've Got My Hate to Keep Me Warm - Dizzy_Bird - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @dizzy--bird

Coming Home for the holidays

One Kiss at Midnight - EastWindmlk - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @eastwindmlk

All I Want For Christmas is You by @thejilyship (a last minute addition but so very very fitting with the prompt ;-)

#I could get another full card #probably #jilychallenge bingo #jily fic recs #jily winter holiday vibes #jilychallenge #jily challenge fics #jily fics #hp fanfiction #fic recs #BINGO

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minisugakoobies · 1 year ago

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BTS Holiday Fics

Tis the season… to reblog all of my holiday fics since I don't have any new ones this year 🙈 Thought it'd be better to put them all into one list rather than rb one by one. Happy holidays! 🎁

❄️ = fluff, 🍾 = smut

Kim Namjoon:

Christmas Confession - ❄️ 🍾, 2.9k - You’re Namjoon’s Secret Santa and you’ve got the perfect gift.

Happy Accidents - ❄️, 2.2k - Sometimes your clumsiness leads to a happy accident.

Kim Seokjin:

All I Don't Want for Christmas is You! - ❄️ 🍾, 23.7k - The holidays are here! But instead of celebrating, you’re trapped in a town called Christmas with your office nemesis, Seokjin Motherfucking Kim, and an unruly band of clients. Can you survive the trip and secure the promotion your boss has promised? Or will Jin take you down?

Min Yoongi:

I Wanna Hold Your Hand - ❄️, 1.4k - It’s hand-holding season, according to your roommate.

Party Vibes - 🍾, 5.8k - Yoongi’s hoping you can keep him entertained at this year’s office holiday party

Jung Hoseok:

After the Party - ❄️ 🍾, >1k - After the party, Hoseok’s not done celebrating you.

Third Time's the Charm - ❄️, 2.1k - After two close encounters with your brother’s best friend, Hoseok, you decide the third time’s the charm.

Park Jimin: see the 12 Lays of Kinkmas below

Kim Taehyung:

Next Christmas - ❄️, 1.1k - Taehyung’s trying to help you get ready for this Christmas, but you’re already thinking of the next.

Jeon Jungkook:

Mugs & Kisses - ❄️, 6k - Jungkook has something he’d like to tell you, but he can’t find the words. So he’s thought of another way.

New Year, New You - ❄️ 🍾, 1.8k - New year, new you. Except here you are, minutes after midnight, already falling back into old habits. You just can’t resist.

Multiple/OT7:

Teamwork - MYG, KTH - 🍾, 1.7k - It’s supposed to be a New Year’s Eve party, but your friends have turned it into an eligible bachelor contest. What are you supposed to do when you’re caught between two men?

12 Lays of Kinkmas - ❄️ 🍾 - 12 fics written based on individual smut prompts (each fic has its own pairings, genres, ratings, summaries & warnings)

Happy Hour - Hyung line - 🍾 (suggestive), 2.9k - You’re home for the holidays, hungover as fuck, and can’t remember what you did last night. Luckily, your little brother Jungkook and his friends Taehyung and Jimin are all too happy to remind you!

Happy Hour 2: The Hyungs Strike Back - Hyung line - 🍾 (suggestive), 4.4k - While back home for another holiday, your brother Jungkook and his friends convince you to go late night bowling with them. Surely this won’t end as badly as the last time you went out, right?

Main Masterlist

#bts smut #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts x reader #jungkook smut #taehyung smut #jimin smut #hoseok smut #namjoon smut #seokjin smut

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carisc4pshaw · 10 hours ago

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Office Christmas Party

In which the Hotchner!reader needs a plus one for an office Christmas party and Aaron Hotchner is quick to suggest Spencer accompanying her. (Fluff&Smut!)

word count: 4.4k

tags: office christmas party, one bed, aaron hotchner (dad), fem reader, bisexual reader, elle greenaway, spencer reid, plus one, new york city, christmas movie, room service, falling in love, crush, smut, fluff, elevator kissing, fancy hotel, manhattan, sightseeing, work colleagues, dating the boss’ daughter, girly reader

warnings: elevator kissing, sub spencer reid, dick riding, protected PinV sex

notes: Happy Christmas/ Christmas eve everyone! I hope you enjoy this, I tried my best but I’m still new to writing with a reader. I think I remembered all the tags pls let me know if * missed anything.

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Two weeks before Christmas you walked into the Behavioural Analysis Unit of the FBI, your shoulder bag swinging as you walked up the small staircase towards your father’s office not bothering to knock before opening the door.

“What have I told you about knocking,” Aaron Hotchner looked up from whatever file he was finishing to see you standing in the doorway.

“My bad? I need help,” you sighed loudly sitting down on the chair opposite him.

“What have you done now? Hotch asked putting down his pen.

You gasped putting a hand on your chest, “That’s rude! I haven’t done anything.”

“Then what do you need help with?” He sat back in his chair looking at you waiting for you to continue talking.

“There’s a Christmas work party out of town next week and I have no plus one and I don’t want to go alone, help me find someone to go with please!”

“Man or woman? You know this isn’t exactly the help you ask your father for.”

“I know but I’m desperate, I’ll take anything, anyone,” You dramatically slumped over on his desk putting your head in your arms that were folded on the desk.

“I’ll think about it.”

“That’s it? I need to know possible suitors now. Does that hot brunette still work here I saw her once when I came to visit.”

“Who?” Aaron raised an eyebrow.

“Um,” you pictured yourself being back there that day and looking over at her desk, “Elle!”

“Yes.. she works here but she’s a little old for you?”

“She doesn’t look old, how old is she?”

“29.”

“Dad that’s only eight years difference. I’ve dated older people than that.”

“I have Elle on a special assignment in Texas next week but you’re more than welcome to ask her on a date another time I suppose…” Aaron said before adding, “What about Spencer?”

You pondered for a moment, “Look I like him he’s got that sexy nerd vibe.. also he looks like he’d be clueless but so good in b-“ You stopped what you were saying remembering you were speaking to your father, not a friend, “Nevermind. Do you think he will ramble a lot I don’t know if the other workers will like it, they are nowhere near as smart as him and I don’t want them to say things about him.”

“He does talk a lot but I thought you liked that plus he’s closer to your age,” Hotch made his point after shaking his head at your words, he wasn’t born yesterday he knew exactly what you were about to say and he did not like it at all.

“I suppose, there’s going to be models, influencers and fashion magazines we work with there though… I guess Spencer isn’t too bad he has a grandad kind of style going on people and by people I mean me, find that quite hot nowadays.”

“Look I have a job to do if you’re going to ask him just ask,” He said looking back at his file, “Aren’t you meant to be at work?”

“The company are scouting new models today I’m not required to be there, I don’t do that.”

“Right, well speak to Spencer and tell him I’ll give him extra time off with pay since he’ll be entertaining you. Where is this party?”

“New York. The company convinced Lilia Archer to go. I’m so excited she’s awesome.”

“Lilia Archer? Mention her and Spencer will be there I’m sure.”

“What do you mean? He’s got like a crush on her?”

“We had a case she was involved with last year, Spencer kissed her.”

“What?” you asked shocked but also with a hint of jealousy bubbling in your stomach.

Aaron laughed, “It was… unexpected.”

“You can say that again,” you picked up your bag, “I’ll see you later dad, love you.”

Hotch stood from his chair and walked around the corner of his desk pulling his daughter into a hug, “I love you too.”

You left the office walking down the stairs while looking around to see if you could spot Spencer.

You finally found him over by the coffee machine pouring an unnecessary amount of sugar into his coffee, “Spencer?”

The man turned around quickly hearing his name spoken so softly by a voice he recognised, “Y/N! Hi, what are you doing here?”

“I was actually looking for you,” you started.

“You were… Why?” His lips pressed into a straight line as his eyebrows knitted together.

“Are you busy next week? On Friday and Saturday?”

“I mean yes, I’ll be here…”

“And what if my father gave you some time off?” you smiled with hope.

“What’s going on?”

“I need a plus one for a Christmas party in New York, Please be my plus one Spence,” you clasped your hands together grinning widely.

“I’m not sure it’s really… well my scene, you work in fashion with models and I don’t usually go to parties.”

“Please Spencer, Lilia Archer is going to be there apparently,” you smirked a little.

“Oh I definitely cannot go, she’s got a boyfriend it will just be awkward,” Spencer frowned.

“Fine, I’ll have her uninvited or something? Please Spencer, If you don’t want to share a room with me I’ll pay for you to have your own.”

“What, no, you don’t have to spend your money on that I don’t mind sharing i-if that’s okay with you, of course!” Spencer stuttered getting nervous.

“So you’re coming?” the wide smile reappeared on your face.

Spencer sighed, “I guess so, what do I need to take?”

“Can I have your keys?”

“What why?” Spencer’s eyes widened.

“I have a day off, you are always busy and I will pick good outfits, it’s literally my job, I’ll go pack for you,” you put your hand out waiting for his keys.

“But I haven’t tidied up, I wasn’t expecting company.”

“Spence you’re a clean freak your meaning of messy is everyone else’s spotless clean.”

“Just stick to the wardrobe, don’t snoop around I know what you’re like,” Spencer said as he handed over his keys.

“Yes Doctor Reid, oh yeah if it wasn’t obvious you’re going as my boyfriend,” you kissed him on the cheek before walking off not giving him time to respond.

“What’s going on there pretty boy? The big boss wouldn’t be too happy if he saw that,” Derek said as Spencer’s blush deepened on his cheeks.

“I thought she was into me…” Elle added.

“I’m sure she wouldn’t turn down a night with both of you,” Derek winked at the brunette.

“You’re disgusting,” She rolled her eyes going back to typing on her computer.

——————

When Spencer returned home from work the next day, he opened the door to see his apartment fairly clean with his books that didn’t fit in the bookcase stacked up in alphabetical order as well as some cookies on the kitchen counter and as he went into his room he saw the open suitcase on the bed with a note by the side.

I hope you like everything I’ve packed and you enjoy the cookies I made you. I’m trying to be a good ‘girlfriend’ ;)

Y/N <3

Over the next few days, You only came into the office once to give Spencer another note that contained your phone number so you could communicate about where to meet before flying to New York.

On the day of the trip, Spencer drove to your apartment at 6 am, your flight was at 8:30 am but your apartment was a 20-minute bus ride from the airport meaning it was the best place to meet.

Spencer knocked on the door and waited a few minutes before knocking again.

“Spencer there’s a key under the mat!” You called through the apartment. The man rolled his eyes, you had probably woken up your neighbours and just told them where you had been hiding your spare key although by the look of the building it may have soundproof walls or a least more soundproof than his were at his apartment.

He took the key and unlocked the door, stepping inside to see you in the kitchen with your hair in rollers, drinking a cup of tea with multiple outfits hanging up around the house.

“I take it you aren’t ready?” Spencer said.

“Good morning my love, nope almost just need to pick the airport outfit!”

“I like the second one,” He shrugged.

“Hm, I think I’ll go with the fourth.”

Spencer shook his head with a laugh, “Please don’t be long we don’t have much time.”

“Don’t stress it’s all cool,” you picked up the coat hanger that had a pair of black Victoria's Secret sweatpants, a white tank top and an off-the-shoulder sweater on, “Make a coffee, make yourself comfortable.”

Every minute that passed Spencer checked his watch getting more anxious until finally 15 minutes later you left your bedroom with a suitcase and 2 bags with your hair curled and your outfit on.

“I’m ready, let’s go,” you said grabbing your phone and walking over to the door.

——————

You and Spencer stood outside the hotel and spa, it looked fancy and definitely out of his price range, Spencer thought to himself.

“Ready for 2 days of fun boyfriend?” You smirked pulling your suitcase through the glass door of the hotel.

Spencer followed closely behind you holding one of your bags. He let you check in before you went to your room on the top floor.

“Woah this is huge!” you said looking at the hotel room’s super king-sized bed.

“It’s a nice hotel, how much did you pay for this?” Spencer asked leaving his suitcase next to the left side of the bed.

“I didn’t, my boss did. I’m pretty sure she booked out the whole hotel for the party.”

“So,” Spencer sat down on the bed after removing his shoes, “What exactly is the plan?”

“What plan?” you raised an eyebrow sitting down next to him and picking up the room service menu.

“Why am I here?” Spencer kept to the edge of his side of the bed.

“To be my plus one for the party tomorrow night, maybe you can show me around the city, dad said you’ve been here more than a few times for cases.”

“That’s it? You just wanted a plus one? There was no hidden meaning? I’m sure you could have found someone better looking on a dating website.”

“I like nerdy guys, plus you’re a fancy FBI agent,” you turned to look at him biting your lip before giggling, “I think we are going to have fun, wanna explore the hotel?”

“Maybe later, I want to stay here for a few minutes since I’m going to have to start using my social battery soon.”

“Okay suit yourself, I’m going to meet some of my friends I won’t be longer than an hour,” you said getting off the bed and heading out of the door.

Spencer sighed once he heard the door close, his head falling back against the headboard. He couldn’t deny the fact that he had a crush on you but he knew you were totally off-limits, you were Hotch’s daughter after all.

His head felt dizzy picturing the way you had looked at him while biting your lip even if it was jokingly it still made his head spin and his blood rush to his cock.

Spencer took it upon himself to take a cold shower, he needed one after the flight anyway so why not kill two birds with one stone?

You walked back into the room at the same time as Spencer opened the bathroom door with a towel wrapped just around his waist.

“Hello to you too, what a nice surprise,” you winked at him with a laugh.

“Shut up,” the man walked back into the bathroom closing the door, “I thought you were going to be an hour.”

“Got bored, assumed you’d want to go out or get something to eat maybe? Do you find if we swap rooms I need to pee.”

“Oh, oh sure,” Spencer opened the door again, “Food sounds good. Could you stay in the bathroom until I’m dressed?”

“Sure if it makes you more comfortable,” You smiled going into the bathroom.

“Thank you,” Spencer got dressed as he called into the bathroom, “I’m paying for our food, you can come out by the way.”

You opened the bathroom door, “You don’t have to Spence, my father gave me some money to spend here.”

“Use it to buy something nice, I want to pay for dinner,” Spencer smiled at you.

“Fine I’m not going to turn that down again,” you laughed and grabbed your purse.

——————

You and Spencer had lunch and stayed out exploring the city until 5 pm when you headed back to the hotel.

“Are you sure you’re okay ordering room service for dinner?” You asked Spencer for the 4th time since you had been walking back to the hotel.

“Yes I’m fine with it,” Spencer laughed and rolled his eyes pushing their room door open.

Just as he was about to close the door he heard a feminine voice calling ‘Wait’ Confused, he waited, by this point, you had gone into the bedroom.

“Oh!” The woman spoke, “I’m so sorry I thought this was my friend's room.”

“You’re a friend of Y/N?”

“Yes… and you are?”

“Spencer,” he smiled, “Y/N, someone is at the door for you.”

You groaned and came out of the bedroom with your sweater off, you looked extremely good in the white tank top you had been wearing under the sweater.

“Laura! Oh hey; Laura this is my boyfriend Spencer, Spencer this is my boss Laura.”

“Boyfriend?” Laura looked confused, “You have a boyfriend?”

“Yes…” points to Spencer, “Boyfriend.”

“Oh well, I guess you don’t need to come to the club with me and a couple of the others to find plus-ones then,” Laura laughed.

“Nope, no clubbing for me, Spence and I are going to have a movie night, order room service and have lots of cuddles,” you grinned.

“That’s cool have fun, I’ll see you tomorrow, or I’ll text you if I get lucky,” Laura winked before leaving the room.

You closed the door and Spencer eyed you curiously, “I wouldn’t have minded if you went out.”

“We have plans did you not hear?”

“You were being serious you want a movie night with me?” Spencer raised an eyebrow.

“And cuddles,” you smiled before returning to the bedroom, “Can you order room service while I take a shower?”

“Of course, What do you want?”

You hummed, “Carbonara, margarita pizza, red wine and chocolate brownie with ice cream. Oh and ask for bottled water.”

Spencer laughs, “I’m guessing this gets charged to your boss?”

“You guessed right, order what you want. I love her but I love spending money more,” You giggled going into the bathroom and turning the shower on.

You walked out of the bathroom in your towel, “Sorry I forgot to take my pyjamas through.”

Spencer cleared his throat, “It’s fine um room service will be 6 minutes and roughly 17 seconds.”

——————

The two sat in the living room area of the room eating their meals and sharing a few bites with each other.

You both went back to the bedroom to watch TV and just as you were about to climb into the bed you took off your dressing gown revealing your silky pyjamas which consisted of a low-cut tank top and short shorts.

Spencer’s face went a little red as he cleared his throat, “That's what you chose to bring?”

“Is there a problem with them?” You asked looking down at your clothes.

“No, no, no problem you look really um great,” he wanted to continue his ramble but you stopped him.

“You can tell me I’m hot baby,” the younger woman winked.

“Stop that, let’s just watch the movie,” Spencer spoke desperately.

“Fineeee,” you said dragging out the last letter as you switched the TV on.

At some point during the movie, you fell asleep on Spencer’s arm. Once he realised you were sleeping he switched off the movie and fell asleep beside you.

The next morning, you woke first with a groan, you smiled as you tilted your head up to see Spencer sleeping. He looked so perfect as he slept. You weren’t sure if having thoughts like that were sweet or creepy.

You pulled back the duvet to go to make some tea. By the time you came back, Spencer was starting to wake up.

“Sorry, I didn’t make you anything I didn’t know when you’d wake up,” you said getting back into bed.

“That’s fine, good morning,” He smiled trying not to move.

“Good morning, is everything okay?” your eyebrows knitted together in curiosity.

“Yeah I’m fine, just uh disorientated… give me a few minutes to wake up.”

“Man troubles?” you caught on and raised an eyebrow.

Spencer choked, “What?”

“Oh come on I wasn’t born yesterday Spence, I’ve had boyfriends. You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

He covered his face with his hands, “It is embarrassing but it will go away. What time is it?” Spencer asked changing the subject.

“Only 7:30 but Dad will call at 8 to check on me,” you rolled your eyes,

“And then I’ll go back to sleep for a bit.”

“What time are you getting up?” Spencer said, he was used to getting up long before this time most mornings but it wouldn’t hurt if he had a lay-in for once. It wouldn’t usually be his thing but these beds were extremely comfortable.

“Before noon? The party starts at 5 pm so I’ll have more than enough time to get ready,” You placed the empty mug on the bedside table and waited for Aaron to call you in the meantime Spencer had fallen back to sleep.

—————

When you both woke up again, you had slept slightly past noon. Spencer had a few missed calls from the team, he instantly felt guilty that he wasn’t available to answer his phone if they needed help but it didn’t take long for you to convince him that it was his day off and he didn’t have to be on call all the time.

After a lot of stressing about curling your hair and making sure your make-up was perfect, you were almost ready. The last thing you had to do was put your dress on.

Spencer was waiting on the small sofa for you to finish getting ready. When you walked out of the bedroom in the long sparkly dark grey strapless dress his mouth almost fell open and his eyes were glued to you, his pupils dilated.

“I have some rules, well if you agree to them, we have to actually act like a couple… you know kissing and stuff and I want you to be yourself… earth to Spencer?” you waved your hand in his face when you realised he wasn’t actually listening to you and his eyes were locked on your body, “See something you like?” you laughed.

Spencer nodded his eyes still barely moving as if he was in a trance.

“Wanna take it off? I don’t mind being late,” you smirked.

Spencer snapped out of his thoughts at your words, “What? No, I can’t, you just look good, you look nice, um hot?”

“Thank you,” you tilted your head to the side with a smile, “So you’re fine with kissing?”

“Totally fine, I mean I haven’t kissed anyone in a long time, I might be bad. I really hope I’m not.”

“Spence, you’ll be fine.”

——————

You had no problem introducing Spencer as your boyfriend to your work colleagues making him wonder if you had done this before, what he wasn’t prepared for though was how highly you spoke of him and the sparkle in your eyes which to him would suggest that you really meant what you were saying. However, when you spotted Lilia Archer across the room you changed. It wasn’t that you seemed shy because you were anything but shy, but until Lilia spotted both you and Spencer it was like you was trying to hide.

You were the first to notice Lilia walking toward the both of you and your first instinct was to pull Spencer closer to you, your lips landed on him in what was meant to be a quick kiss to make Lilia feel at least a tad bit jealous but the kiss didn’t stop at a quick peck.

The two of you felt a spark run through you that neither of you could explain but you both didn’t want it to end.

Once the genius remembered that you were at a party with hundreds of people and not alone in your hotel room he removed his hand from the side of your face and pulled back from the kiss.

His hand fell beside him, catching your hand in his not long after, “That was interesting…”

“It was.”

“Did you mean it or was it because Lilia was coming?”

You shrugged, “A bit of both I wanted to make her jealous but I did mean it, I think you’re attractive and I know I'm not anywhere near as pretty or cool as Lilia Archer-“

“Stop talking like that. You’re perfect how you are, the only reason I didn’t do that first was that I thought for sure no one as confident as you would want someone… like me. And the other reason is Hotch, he is my boss.”

“Come on Spence you’re the most perfect gentleman I’m sure Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner, would be more than happy if his daughter was dating his favourite boy genius.”

Spencer took a small step closer to you despite the lack of distance between you already. He cupped your cheeks lowering his head to give you another kiss.

“I know we’ve only been here for an hour but do you want to get out of here?” you said with a giggle.

“Lead the way.”

——————

The two of you couldn’t keep your hands or your lips off each other in the elevator to your floor or in the hallway toward your room.

Once the hotel door was closed you pushed Spencer up against it, kissing his lips passionately as you fiddled with his tie trying to get it off in a hurry.

You swiftly moved on to unbuttoning his shirt once the tie was off, your lips were still connected but now your tongues were invading each other’s mouths.

Separating from each other to take a couple of breaths, Spencer removed his shoes while you kicked your heeled shoes off removing a few more inches between yours and Spencer’s height.

“Bedroom?” you asked him, taking his hand in yours and intertwining your fingers together.

“I didn’t bring condoms with me, I didn’t plan for well this,” he said with a laugh.

“I always have some with me just in case,” you said as you entered the bedroom immediately finding one in your bag while Spencer removed his pants.

“At least you’re prepared, now come here I love that dress on you, you look beautiful but I want to take it off,” Spencer spoke with a rasped tone, his hands running up and down the curves of your waist and hips once you were standing in front of him.

“Take it off,” you whispered.

Spencer stood up from the bed spinning you around to find the zipper at the back of the dress, when he pulled it down he was met with your bare back meaning you had no bra on and only a lace g-string.

Spencer couldn’t help a quiet moan escaping his mouth when you turned back around showing him your exposed top half.

“You’re beautiful,” he said kissing your lips once again his hands finding your breasts.

A few moments later the both of them were fully undressed nothing left on their bodies.

“Can I put it on?” You asked holding up the condom packet.

“Please,” his voice was slightly strained he was so desperate to be inside of you, he didn’t know how much more he could take.

You ripped open the packet wasting no time before sliding the latex over his cock as a groan fell from his lips.

“Can I be on top?” you asked him.

“You want to ride me?”

“Yes, please?” you gave him a puppy dog-eyed gaze earning a nod from him.

“I’m not going to say no to that,” Spencer held your thighs as you positioned yourself in the right place before slipping his cock inside of you.

You moaned as he penetrated you further. Once fully inside of you, you took a deep breath.

“Am I hurting you?” Spencer asked worriedly.

“No! I just need a second,” you slowly began to move up and down your hands placed on his chest to maintain your balance.

Spencer moaned with each small movement, the warmth from your insides felt incredible wrapped around him, he fit perfectly inside of you.

“You’re doing so good,” you praised him as his hip started to jerk in a rhythm that matched your pace.

“I can’t last much longer, you feel so good,” Spencer moaned against your lips, when you leaned down to kiss him his cock angled even deeper instead of you.

You could barely open your eyes as you said, “I’m almost there.” The way you spoke triggered something in Spencer that made him remove one of his hands from your back and move it so his thumb would brush against your clit in circles.

With a few more sloppy thrusts caused by his hips that grazed your g-spot each time combined with him rubbing hard circles against your clit, the both of you came at the same time both with moans so loud anyone would be able to hear them through the walls.

You didn’t pull him out of yourself until you had fully gotten your breath back.

“Oh my god,” you sighed lifting off him and rolling into the space beside him, covering half of your body with the thin duvet.

“Good, oh my god? or bad?” Spencer asked pulling you close to him.

“Definitely good, so good,” You answered.

“Okay good because I agree, you were amazing,” Spencer pecked your lips softly.

“I hope you plan on being my plus one again,” you spoke quietly running your fingernails down his naked chest.

He pulled the duvet up to cover your body a little more, “I certainly plan on it.”

#criminal minds #elle greenaway #aaron hotchner #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid edit #bi spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #ao3 fanfic #fan fiction #fanfic #bi reader #dad aaron hotchner

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l2vedive · 17 hours ago

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CHRISTMAS WITH YOU w. jeon wonwoo

first christmas together + fluff (557)

pairing: jeon wonwoo x fem!reader

note: merry christmas eve !!! here's something to keep you warm and giddy before the year ends <3 i hope y'all are having a good one with ur friends n family 🫶🏻 please don't forget to give a like n a reblog w ur thoughts if you enjoyed !!

the soft crackle of the fireplace fills the living room, casting a warm glow that dances off the walls. the scent of pine mingles with the faint sweetness of cinnamon candles, creating an atmosphere that feels both festive and comforting. the christmas tree stands proudly in the corner, its branches adorned with twinkling lights, baubles, and ribbons.

wonwoo is crouched by its base, untangling a wreath he picked up earlier because, as he put it, “it matches the theme perfectly.” your cat, ever curious, bats playfully at the ribbons dangling from the wreath, earning an exasperated but amused sigh from him.

“you’re not helping, you know,” he says, looking at the cat with mock sternness before turning his attention back to the task.

you’re by the record player, flipping through vinyl sleeves, trying to choose the perfect background song for the evening. it feels important to you—setting the tone, making it just right. your fingers pause on a jazz album, but then you hesitate and move to something else.

“(your name), my love,” wonwoo’s voice cuts through your deliberation, gentle and warm, “whatever you pick will be perfect. honestly, i’d rather hear you humming than anything else.”

you glance over your shoulder, catching his soft smile. “it has to be perfect, though. first christmas together and all that,” you say with a grin, though there’s a hint of seriousness in your tone.

wonwoo rises, the wreath now untangled and hanging neatly on a branch. “it already is,” he says as he crosses the room, wrapping his arms around you from behind. his chin rests lightly on your shoulder, and you can feel the warmth of his breath against your temple before he presses a kiss there. “but we’ve got a cake to bake and dinner to prep. think you can multitask, or do i need to pick the song for you?”

you laugh, leaning back into his embrace. “fine, fine. i’ll leave it for now. but if the vibe is off, you’re to blame.”

“deal,” he says easily, his arms loosening as he takes your hand. “come on, let me show you how amazing this wreath looks on the tree. it’s like it was made for it.”

he leads you over, gesturing proudly at the wreath now nestled among the branches. it does look good—better than you’d expected when he’d first brought it home. your cat, meanwhile, has abandoned the ribbons and is now swatting at the shiny wrappers beneath the tree.

“well, she’s having the time of her life,” you say, watching the cat with a fond shake of your head.

“at least someone is,” he jokes. “come on, let’s get started on that cake before she decides the wrapping paper is a snack.”

just as you’re about to head to the kitchen, the doorbell rings, a cheerful chime that sends your cat scurrying under the sofa. “that’ll be our first guests,” you say, your excitement bubbling up.

wonwoo squeezes your hand. “i’ll get it. you start setting out the ingredients. don’t worry—i’ll make sure everyone knows the cat’s got dibs on the tree.”

you laugh, giving him a playful shove as you head towards the kitchen. the sound of your friends’ voices fills the room moments later, their laughter blending seamlessly with the warmth of the evening. it’s a scene of perfect chaos—exactly how christmas should be.

— please do not copy , translate or repost any of my works anywhere.

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userslayer · 17 days ago

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part 2 of my favorite spuffy fics!

here is the first post.

most of these contain smut, all completed, some from ao3 others from elysian fields, some oneshots others multichapter, all happy/hopeful endings, nothing too angsty or dark unless stated!

elysian fields:

What Happens In Quarantine... by bewildered

s4 spuffy stuck together in quarantine! very smutty, beautiful slow burn. a lot of shakespeare

I Fought the World for Your Hand (Give My New Body a Chance) by williamthebloodied

established spuffy, buffy dresses up for spike and he more than appreciates it by going down on her, pretty emotional

Embers by Dusty

spuffy + angel threesome. hear me out! established spuffy, very hot and emotional smut, delves into spike/buffy, spike/angel, buffy/angel in such a beautiful way it just strengthens spuffy

Drive by Holly

insanely good. s4 vampire!buffy gets excluded from everything she has always known as a human, so all she has is spike, who still sees her as buffy. roadtrip! hot smut! well-developed relationship

A Love Like Ours by Holly

s6 where a confused buffy slowly opens up to spike and sees that he truly loves her in one eventful night

Treat, Please by EffulgentEllie

s7 halloween, buffy enjoys some time alone until spike knocks on her door and she offers him a smutty treat

Hush Now by MillennialCryBaby

no plot just hot sex, set after something blue during crush as spike makes sure to return the favor

Dare by simmony

s7 spike thinks he should leave town to avoid being used by the first, buffy confronts him about it ensuing a night of talk about forgiveness, killing vamps and cemetery sex

Snap Dragon by MillennialCryBaby

holiday fic 🎁 with morning sex and poems

Christmas Eve by Dusty

holiday fic 🎁 stablished spuffy having hot sex in the kitchen

Slay Bells by Eowyn315

holiday fic 🎁 super interesting monster of the week, scoobies shenanigans, spuffy dating other people who keep pointing out they are actually in love also my fav trope of spike's chip no longer works and no one believes in him except buffy

ao3:

The Taste Of A Heart Beating - Geliot99

sexy kinky period fic because spike is a vampire and he loves buffy, duh

Forty-eight days in LA - Blissymbolics

this is a dark fic with no spuffy ending. s3 spike kidnaps buffy in hopes to win back drusilla, heavy on the mortal enemies, hurt/comfort

Tracks in the Snow - ashcrashed

holiday fic 🎁 domestic fluff, mythical demon in sunnydale and the scoobies. good vibes only

Christmas Date - bewildered

post-series. spuffy slowly find their way back to each other even as they are physically apart, and faith helps

What She Deserves - flootzavut

they bump into each other at a renaissance faire, fight some demons and have hot sex!

Hand in Flightless Hand - tragic_ly

s4, interesting original demon lore, aftermath of something blue, spuffy fighting the good fight together

#buffy the vampire slayer #spuffy #fanfic rec #ao3 #buffy summers #spike #my recs #lets chat if you read one of these!#some holidays specials i found just in time for december ✨️

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honeyhae-svt · 10 days ago

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.ೃ࿔⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙december with seventeen‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

a/n: hey you! its december 15, 8 days before christmas ! updating this masterlist everyday for ot13 ig ! update starts tomorrow =]

warnings: none. just fluff in each chapter. so yeah ig anyone is allowed to read this :]

MASTERLIST SEVENTEEN X READER

c. seungcheol – snowman (sia)

tags: seungcheol x reader, seungcheol fluff, seventeen fanfiction, holiday au, snowman au, christmas love story, domestic fluff, bittersweet love, long distance relationship, happy ending, romance, reader insert, cozy vibes genre: fluff, romance, holiday au, slice of life warnings: mild emotional moments (bittersweet themes around distance), excessive cuteness and fluff (reader discretion advised), no major angst (just warm feelings and happy tears) wc: 2757 (heh)

y. jeonghan – last christmas (ariana grande)

tags: jeonghan x reader, jeonghan fluff, seventeen fanfiction, holiday au, ex au, christmas love story, fluff, bittersweet love, exes to lovers(?), happy ending, romance, reader insert, cozy vibes. kisses (mwuah) genre: romance, fluff, christmas, holiday au, slice of life, really mild angst warnings: none (it’s pretty wholesome, so unless you have themes of anxiety or past trauma you have with past relationships, there should be no need for any major warnings) wc: 3050 (xp)

h. joshua – mistletoe (justin bieber)

tags: joshua x reader, holiday au, christmas love story, snowball fight, mistletoe kiss, fluff, romance, cozy vibes, snow angels, warmth in the cold, friends to lovers, slow burn, winter vibes genre: romance, fluff, holiday/christmas au, friendship, humor warnings: none (this is a fluff-filled story with light teasing and playful moments) wc: 3702

w. junhui – baby it’s cold outside (michael bublé)

tags: jun x reader, snowstorm au, domestic vibes, movie night, pining, slow burn, fluffy ending, reader insert, cozy romance, winter love genre: fluff, romance warnings: none. just soft, wholesome vibes and playful banter wc: 2859

k. soonyoung – you make it feel like christmas (gwen stefani, blake shelton)

j. wonwoo – santa baby (ariana grande)

l. jihoon – i’ll be home for christmas (michael bublé)

l. seokmin – this christmas (chris brown)

k. mingyu – santa tell me (ariana grande)

x. minghao – santa doesn’t know you like i do (sabrina carpenter)

b. seungkwan – santa, can’t you hear me (kelly clarkson, ariana grande)

c. vernon – all i want for christmas is you (mariah carey)

l. chan – winter things (ariana grande)

a/n: it's a december event until the 24th! (christmas eve) exactly 8 days before christmas. (this is more like my countdown lol) i hope yall look forward to it :]

thank you and happy early christmas greetings mwuah. xoxo

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spacebabesuki · 10 days ago

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Begin Again (Hellcheer Christmas AU) ❄️

Word Count: 6k. Themes: Second chances, rekindled connections, stuck in a snowstorm. Format: One-shot Vibes: Christmas magic and nostalgia

Playlist here!

This one got the most votes from everyone, hope y'all like it! <3

The train screeched to a halt, jolting Chrissy Cunningham from her foggy, half-conscious state. Her head rested lightly against the frosted glass of the window, and she blinked at the blizzard outside. Snow pelted the panes in relentless waves, erasing the world beyond into a blur of white. Faint, skeletal trees loomed in the distance, bent under the storm’s fury. A snowstorm. How fitting. How poetic.

The loudspeakers crackled to life with a sharp hiss of static, breaking the tense silence of the cabin. A weary, apologetic voice cut through the noise: “Ladies and gentlemen, due to severe weather conditions, we are unable to proceed at this time. Please remain seated or move to the central cabin for updates. We apologize for the inconvenience.”

Chaos erupted almost immediately. Frustration echoed through the narrow aisles. Parents snatched up their children with rushed, frantic movements, while the sound of suitcases crashing into one another filled the air. Passengers shouted for answers, demanded movement, but the only thing moving was the panic spreading among them. There was no Santa Claus here. No Christmas joy. Only the cold, the storm, and the collective desperation to be somewhere—anywhere—other than this stranded train in the middle of nowhere.

Chrissy, however, remained still. Motionless. While the storm raged outside and the cabin roared with anger and confusion, she didn’t move. She didn’t speak. She may as well have been invisible.

It was Christmas Eve. Nearly six o’clock. But Chrissy felt no rush, no urgency, no longing to be anywhere else. The chaos that consumed the other passengers seemed absurd to her, like she was watching a scene in a play she didn’t belong to. People clamored to reach their families, desperate to be home for the holidays.

But Chrissy had no family left to return to. Alone. Completely alone.

Her dad had died six years ago, a sudden heart attack ripping him away. He hadn’t been old, just gone, leaving her with memories of a flawed man who had loved her unconditionally. Her mother might as well have been gone too, siding with Jason during the divorce and severing their bond with cold silence.

No apology, no goodbye. Just absence.

And Jason—God, Jason Carver. The ink on the divorce papers had barely dried. That was why she’d packed everything and left. The chapter was closed, but the wounds still stung. She never wanted to see him or his family again. Ten Christmases of enduring their shallow cheer had been ten too many. A decade of fake smiles and hollow traditions had nearly broken her.

But now, at twenty-seven, she was free. Truly, terrifyingly free.

Yet freedom didn’t feel like victory. It felt like standing on the edge of a cliff, staring into an abyss she had no idea how to navigate. The question wasn’t just where she would go—it was how. How do you rebuild after losing everything? How do you start again when all you’ve known is rejection, pain, and loneliness?

She would figure it out. Somehow.

The storm battered the train, snow slamming against the windows, but Chrissy sat motionless, untouched by the chaos. She had nowhere to go, no one waiting for her. She was alone.

The shouting, crying, and frantic arguments around her grew unbearable, suffocating her. She couldn’t take it anymore. Rising abruptly, she ignored the staff’s pleas to stay seated.

"Excuse me," she muttered, pushing through the crowded aisle.

No one noticed her as she pushed through the chaos. The train, completely stalled and battered by the storm, groaned under its weight as she reached the door between cars. She forced it open and stepped through, escaping into another carriage.

The dining car was dark, silent, and empty. The power had gone out, plunging the space into shadows. It was untouched by the panic she’d left behind—still, almost otherworldly.

Finally, she could breathe. Alone.

Chrissy sank into a booth and exhaled shakily. The windows rattled under the storm’s relentless fury, but the quiet enveloped her. For the first time in hours—maybe days—she felt some semblance of peace.

She closed her eyes, her head pounding with the weight of the last years. A picture-perfect marriage. A spotless home. A carefully curated life as Jason Carver’s perfect wife—he, with his glossy hair and hollow charm, perfect at company parties but a stranger in every other way.

Chrissy had suffocated in that life. She’d left, despite the guilt, despite the sting of her mother’s accusations. She hadn’t ruined anything, she knew. You can’t ruin a life that doesn’t feel alive.

And now, here she was—back on the road to Hawkins, where it all began. The small town she hadn’t seen in ten years, where ghosts of her childhood and teen years lingered.

She was going to visit her father’s grave, sit in silence, and wish him a Merry Christmas, hoping for answers she knew wouldn’t come.

Chrissy sank into a window seat, the cold glass against her temple. Outside, snow fell relentlessly, but here in the stillness, she could finally think. The storm howled, muffled by the train's quiet hum. For once, she welcomed the solitude.

The cabin door groaned open, snapping her from her thoughts. Irritation flared—another passenger, she assumed, or worse, a train attendant ready to send her back into the chaos. She shrank into her seat, hoping to go unnoticed.

The footsteps approached—slow, heavy, deliberate—and then stopped. She tensed, her breath catching in her throat. A heavy sigh followed, and Chrissy instinctively squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to remain unseen.

But then she heard it—the unmistakable sound of heavy boots on the floor, the faint creak of leather. It was a sound she hadn’t heard in ten years, one that belonged to only one person. Because in her unbearable life, she had never met anyone else who wore leather jackets like he did.

It was too familiar. Unsettlingly so. The tension in her chest doubled, her pulse racing in disbelief.

No. It couldn’t be. Coincidence? Or maybe she’d finally lost her mind.

And then came the voice.

“Chriiissy Cunningham.”

Her heart stopped. Her breath caught in her throat. The way he said her name—drawn out, theatrical, and teasing—that voice she hadn’t heard in ten years crashed over her like a tidal wave. Only one person ever called her that. Only him.

Every syllable was soaked in memories she had fought to bury, ones that now clawed their way back to the surface. It felt like time itself had collapsed, leaving her trapped between past and present, unable to escape either.

Frozen, she couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. A long moment passed, heavy with anticipation, before she finally turned. Wide eyes locked on the figure just a few feet away, and her breath hitched all over again.

That voice. Unmistakable. Teasing. Theatrical. With just enough grit to send her stomach into freefall.

“Eddie?” Her voice trembled as it left her lips. “Eddie Munson? Oh my God, is it really you?”

“The one and only,” he said, his grin crooked and unmistakably familiar.

He was taller than she remembered, his shoulders broader, his presence commanding the space in a way that was both comforting and exhilarating. His dark hair, longer now, spilled past his shoulders in tousled waves, with a few strands tucked behind a black beanie. That grin—mischievous, lopsided—hadn’t changed, but his eyes held a new softness, a depth she hadn’t noticed before.

A faint beard traced the sharp line of his jaw, adding a ruggedness that only made him more striking. Snow dusted his leather jacket, and the glint of silver rings on his fingers caught the dim light. They were fewer now—subtler, more refined—but still unmistakably Eddie.

Everything about him screamed his signature style—black sweater, jeans, boots, and jacket—but now there was an effortless confidence about him that felt new, almost grounding.

He had aged almost unfairly well. Ten years wasn’t much—he wasn’t even thirty yet—but somehow, he seemed more settled, more at peace. More him.

“I thought I was losing my mind two minutes ago when I saw that pretty blonde hair,” he added, breaking the silence with his voice and that giant smile—the smile—that only appeared when he was with her, a smile that hadn't seen the light of day in ten years.

Chrissy froze, too stunned to respond.

“So you recognize me by my back?” Her voice was light, almost giddy, in a way she hadn’t heard in years. A genuine smile spread across her face, her body warming with excitement despite the storm outside.

“I’d recognize you anywhere.”

Her mouth dropped open, then closed, stunned. Happiness. She hadn’t felt it like this in so long. Eddie Munson, without even knowing it, had the power to make her smile in an instant, and she finally understood what that feeling meant.

But as quickly as the happiness came, a wave of sadness followed. So much time had passed. Ten years. More. Years spent thinking about him, especially when her mother had forced her to leave Hawkins and marry Jason.

Chrissy’s chest tightened. It had been over a decade since that day in the woods, the almost-kiss on his trailer couch. And now, here he was—like no time had passed, but somehow carrying the weight of all those years between them. She stood, her knees weak, and for a long moment, they just stared at each other.

“You…” Chrissy struggled to find her words, her smile still spreading across her face. “What are you doing here?” The smile was a mix of shock, surprise, and happiness, leaving her completely lost in the moment.

She was so bundled up, feeling overheated despite the snowstorm, her cheeks flushed with emotion. Eddie Munson stood before her, his eyes soft and warm in a way she hadn’t realized she missed. He looked at her with the same mix of shock, surprise, and pure joy reflected in her own gaze.

They stood frozen in the dimly lit cabin, the storm raging outside, but within the space between them, everything felt still, the light in their eyes brighter than anything around them.

He shrugged, his grin softening. “Heading to Hawkins. Uncle Wayne’s too old to fly, so I figured I’d make the trip this year.” His eyes scanned her face. “And you? What brings you back to our slice of hell?”

Chrissy hesitated, shifting her weight. “I… I’m visiting my dad’s grave. He passed away a few years ago.”

Eddie’s expression softened, and he nodded. “I’m sorry to hear that. Your dad was… he was a good guy.”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “He was.”

“You good?” He did it again—tilting his head slightly, his eyes soft and concerned, just like he had in that forest over ten years ago. The only person who didn’t just look at her but truly saw her.

“Yeah,” she replied, smiling for real this time. “Better now.”

His body stiffened at her words, as if they’d hit him like a punch. He wasn’t that awkward teen anymore, but hearing better now from Chrissy Cunningham, after all this time, felt like a gift he didn’t deserve. It made him feel like that lost, invisible Munson again—the one who spent years watching her from the hallways of Hawkins High, aching for any sliver of attention. If he had heard those words back then, they would’ve broken him. Hell, they almost did now.

The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken memories. Eddie shifted, breaking the moment. He gestured to the seat across from her. “Mind if I sit? Or am I interrupting your peace and quiet?”

Chrissy shook her head quickly. “No, it’s fine. Please, sit.” She fought to keep her voice steady, but deep down, she was eager for his company.

After ten years of bad memories, Eddie Munson had always been part of the good ones. And now, here he was—like a Christmas miracle, a gift she hadn’t known she needed.

He slid into the seat, his long legs stretching out, the space between them feeling smaller with each passing second. He pulled a flask from his bag and set it down on the table between them.

“Figured I’d hide back here. It’s crazy up there.”

She laughed lightly, though it was laced with nervousness. “Same. I couldn’t deal with all the yelling.”

Eddie unscrewed the cap of the flask, revealing whiskey, and took a swig before holding it out to her.

“Want some?” Eddie gave a small, apologetic smile, his fingers fiddling with the edge of the canteen. "Sorry about that. I don’t usually drink, but I’ve been on a plane for hours, then a train, and now… this."

Chrissy chuckled softly, her eyes softening with understanding. "It's alright. I get it. We all have our days."

He paused, his voice taking on a lighter tone. "Just don’t let me be a bad influence on you, alright?"

She chuckled, warmth spreading in her chest. "I promise."

She hesitated but then took the flask. The whiskey burned as it slid down her throat, offering relief from the tightness in her chest.

“We shouldn’t be drinking on the Lord’s day,” she joked, passing it back to him.

“Yeah, well, He should’ve thought twice before trapping us under a snowstorm this cold,” Eddie quipped, his voice teasing and theatrical, making her laugh again.

Chrissy’s gaze fell to his long legs, stretched out and nearly three times the size of hers, making the seat feel too tight and the heat too intense. Their knees almost touched through her pantyhose and leg warmers. She glanced at his large hands, the silver rings gripping the canteen.

And in that moment, Eddie Munson, now 29, couldn't shake the feeling of being that awkward teenager again—suddenly aware that his lips had just been where hers had, on the neck of the flask.

“So,” Eddie broke the silence, his voice soft but steady, “what’s life been like for Chrissy Cunningham?”

She let out a humorless laugh, setting the flask down, and met his eyes with a small, almost sad smile. “You really want to know?” she teased, a tiny frown curling on her lips.

"Of course," he replied, his tone sincere.

His dark eyes locked onto hers, his gaze so intense it made her heart race, and for a moment, nothing in the world could slow it down.

Chrissy exhaled, her breath fogging in the cold air. “Well, I got married. To Jason Carver.”

Eddie’s eyebrows lifted, though he said nothing, his gaze steady on her face.

“And I got divorced,” she continued, her voice quieter. “Yesterday, I finally signed the papers.” She swallowed, trying to push past the sting of the words. “It wasn’t… it wasn’t what I thought it would be. What everyone told me it should be.”

Eddie nodded slowly, his expression softening. “That’s rough.”

“Yeah.” She gave a small, bitter smile. “But now I’m… I don’t know. Starting over, I guess. Trying to figure out what I actually want.”

Eddie leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his eyes never leaving hers. “And what do you want?”

Chrissy hesitated, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of the canteen, almost brushing his. They both glanced down, the air between them thick with unspoken words. She felt the heat of his presence, the closeness, making her heart race. They both swallowed hard in unison, as if the same weight had settled between them.

Finally, Chrissy spoke, her voice soft, laced with vulnerability.

“I want to be a writer. I always have. But... I don’t know if I can. Maybe it’s too late. I spent so much time in a marriage I knew was wrong, and now... I’m just...” She trailed off, her breath shaky, unable to finish the thought.

Eddie’s face lit up, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Hell yeah, you can do it. That’s awesome, Chrissy.”

She laughed, the warmth creeping into her cheeks. It had been so long since she’d known what support felt like. "Thanks. We’ll see."

“Seattle’s a great place for writers,” Eddie said with a side smile, his voice light but sincere. “I live there now. Lots of rain. Lots of coffee shops.”

He winked at her, and she couldn’t help but smile in return, the sound genuine, something she hadn’t felt in years. A small moment of support, something so simple, yet it felt like a lifeline. Her cheeks flushed, and she looked down, embarrassed by how much she needed that.

“If you need an old friend to help you start again…” he added, his voice soft but carrying that familiar warmth she hadn’t realized she’d missed so much.

Chrissy’s heart fluttered. She laughed softly, her cheeks flushed with something that felt like hope, something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in years. “I might just take you up on that. Starting over sounds a lot easier with a friend like you."

Eddie's smile softened. “You’re never alone, Chrissy. As long as my heart is still beating around here... you'll always have someone to count on, if that means anything.”

She opened her mouth, but the words caught, and for a moment, she felt a lump form in her throat. Her eyes watered, and she blinked hard, trying to hold back the emotion threatening to spill over.

"That… that means a lot," she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... I can't even tell you how much that means to me."

Her hands trembled slightly, and she wrapped them around the canteen, finding comfort in the simple action. The silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable—it was soft, like a quiet understanding that lingered in the air. She looked down, taking a slow breath to steady herself, then met his gaze once more.

Afraid of letting the mood turn too sad, Chrissy blinked several times to clear the moisture from her eyes, trying to shake the lump in her throat.

"So..." she paused, her voice lighter, trying to bring back a bit of fun. “Seattle? That’s amazing. You always loved music!”

“Still do,” Eddie said, his grin softening. “Still do.”

She raised an eyebrow, repeating the question he’d asked her earlier. “How was life for Eddie Munson?”

“I work as a sound tech and songwriter in a studio…for grunge bands. I do the hard work, and the pretty boys get to sing it,” he said with a wink.

Chrissy chuckled, shaking her head. Her gaze lingered on the rings on his fingers—two on one hand, three on the other—and a question she couldn't shake crept into her mind. Is he married? The doubt gnawed at her as she waited for him to speak, but he only mentioned his job. The thought lingered, making her swallow hard, discomfort tightening in her chest at the uncertainty.

"What about…marriage? Kids?" she asked, her voice a little quieter than she intended.

Eddie’s expression grew wistful. “Nope. Just me and my guitar. Had a few girlfriends, but nothing stuck.”

Chrissy’s gaze drifted back to his hands, focusing on the ring on his wedding finger.

She bit her lip, then asked cautiously, “The ring…?”

“Oh, this?” Eddie held up his hand with a laugh. “No, it’s not a wedding ring. Just... you know me. I like my rings.”

A wave of relief washed over her, though she wasn’t sure why. A smile tugged at her lips, and suddenly, she felt like laughing, like running out into the snowstorm. Her voice grew stronger as she looked at him.

And Eddie was already looking at her in that way—the way only he could. The same way he had looked at her in that forest ten years ago, mouth slightly open, eyes unblinking, as if trying to capture every detail of the moment.

She looked like an angel frozen in time. The soft glow of her white blouse against the dim cabin light, her flushed cheeks offering a warm contrast to the cool air. Her blue eyes sparkled with a kind of innocence that seemed untouched by time, framed by her long, blonde hair that cascaded over her shoulders. Her pink lips, slightly parted, held a quiet mystery, as if she were about to speak but hadn’t yet decided. Her nose, delicate and slightly upturned, completed the perfect symmetry of her face.

Eddie couldn’t tear his eyes away, unable to blink, almost desperate to memorize every detail.

“Why are you looking at me like this?” Chrissy whispered, her voice trembling slightly, a smile playing at the corners of her lips.

“Just memories.” Eddie murmured.

The air between them was thick, charged with a tension neither of them could ignore. Their eyes locked, and in that moment, neither could look away.

Chrissy tried to break the gaze, but every time she moved, she felt his presence, that intoxicating scent of him drawing her in like a magnet. The snowstorm outside felt miles away as her heart raced, her thoughts spinning back to memories long buried.

She could still remember the last time he’d looked at her like this— that night in the trailer when they had shared a joint and almost kissed. And now, standing in front of him, it felt like time had looped back to that moment.

“You’re still incredibly pretty, you know,” Eddie said suddenly, his voice soft, almost hesitant. "God damn, I’m not kidding. It seems like every time I look at you, you get even prettier. Fuck.” He took another sip.

“Eddie…”

Chrissy’s cheeks burned, her breath catching in her throat. She looked away, struggling to hide the heat rising in her face. That smile, the one that made her skin tingle, was threatening to appear.

“I’m just saying what’s true,” he replied with a grin. “I used to think about you, remember your face, and wonder, damn, no way someone could be that beautiful. It must’ve been in my head. But fuck, you’re even more beautiful than I remembered.”

Her heart skipped a beat. She wasn’t used to being looked at this way—like she was worth noticing. Her ex husband had never looked at her like that, never spoken to her with such tenderness. But here, now, Eddie’s eyes held her with such sincerity, making her feel something she hadn’t in years—vulnerable, alive, beautiful.

Still, as she looked at him—strong, confident, now an adult man—it made her breathe in deeply and feel something she hadn’t in so long. And oh... he smelled so good, like a masculine fragrance that...

Her chest tightened, and she had to look down to hide the way her heart was hammering. There was a warmth inside her that she hadn’t felt in years, and she didn’t know how to respond.

Her voice barely above a whisper, she finally said, “I… I don’t know what to say.”

"You don't need to say anything. Why do you feel like you need to?" he laughed. "I'm just saying you're so fucking pretty, it's surreal. So just accept it."

Silence. He looked at her…adorable, like a doll, like an angel, her cheeks flushed, turned pink, as she smiled, blushing shyly. Fuck…so pretty.

"Every time I wanted to remember you, I..." he said, drinking the whiskey with force. "The sky, the green trees, anything beautiful made me think of you." He laughed, his lips still on the bottle. But what he really wanted to say was, we were getting married in my head all the damn time.

"You... you thought about me... all these years?"

"Oh please," he said softly, a slight edge to his voice. "Do you think I have forgotten...Do you think I have forgotten about you?"

"Hey!" Her eyes widened. She'd heard this before on the radio. "That's a song! What's the band's name? I hear it on the radio!"

“I know,” he laughed. “I wrote it. Like I said, I do the heavy lifting in the studio, and the pretty guys sing.”

She opened and closed her mouth again, as if she wanted to believe for a second that he had written that song with her in mind. She didn’t need to believe it—because it was true. Of course, it was about her.

She shook her head, laughing.

“Oh, Eddie…”

He was even more handsome, more charming as the years went on.

“You haven’t changed much, have you?”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted, his grin softening. “But not where it counts.”

Silence filled the air as they both stared at their hands.

She hesitated, then asked softly, “So... how long has it been since you last went to Hawkins?”

“Ten years,” he admitted. “My uncle used to visit me in Seattle every Christmas because he knew how much I hated Hawkins.”

He gave a sad smile, the weight of his words sinking between them. The memories of how Hawkins talked about him, gossiped about him, were still fresh.

Her eyes softened, and he caught the hint of sadness there—sadness for him. He never deserved that, she thought. He’s so sweet. Always has been.

“So... yeah,” he said, trailing off before turning the question back to her. “And you?”

The look in her eyes when he asked said it all. He could almost guess her answer.

But on the other hand, she loved that he wanted to talk to her. There was something about his voice, his presence—it made her feel... something she couldn’t quite put into words. Familiar. Safe. Like life could always be this way—simple, warm, and good.

“Well,” she said softly, “the last time was six years ago. Then my dad passed, and my mom came to live with me.”

She exhaled a heavy breath, and Eddie’s chest ached for her. Life had clearly been hard for her these past few years—he could see it in her face. Poor Chrissy, he thought. She never deserved any of it.

To Eddie Munson, Chrissy Cunningham had always been a dream girl. And dream girls? They belonged in dream worlds.

Any guy lucky enough to have her should know that. But Jason Carver obviously didn’t.

Chrissy broke the silence again.

“I’m still... not myself since the divorce. Actually, it’s been ten years,” she admitted. “So now I’m here. I came to visit my dad—the only one who ever really supported me. But he’s gone, so...” She laughed bitterly. “I guess I’ll just stop by his grave to say, ‘Merry Christmas, Dad,’ and then spend the next few days at a hotel. Renting anything during the holidays is impossible."

“But...” she added softly, her voice wavering, “I don’t know. I kind of hoped I’d feel at home in Hawkins for a few days. At least before I start searching for a new home somewhere in this big country. It’s kind of cool, starting over anywhere I want. But also... terrifying.”

Her voice cracked slightly at the end, and Eddie’s chest tightened again.

He wanted to invite her to stay with him and Uncle Wayne. It wasn’t the trailer anymore—Eddie had used the money from the songs he’d written and produced to buy Wayne a proper house. But even so, the thought of asking her to stay felt outrageous. She’d never accept. Not Chrissy. She deserved so much better than he could ever offer.

So he stayed quiet, took another long sip of the warm whiskey they shared, and let its heat burn away the words he didn’t dare to say.

She took a deep breath. Silence.

“Can I have another sip of that?” she asked.

“Yep, go for it.”

He handed her the flask, grinning as he watched Chrissy take a long drink. Her face scrunched up slowly in reaction to the burn, a mix of discomfort and determination.

“Rookie,” he teased.

She laughed, the sound soft and genuine, filling the quiet space between them.

๑

An hour later, the train was still stopped. The muffled shouts of frustrated passengers echoed faintly from another car, but in theirs? It was a different story.

Their empty carriage, devoid of anyone else, was anything but quiet. The air was filled with noise—slurred words, loud laughter, and the clinking of the nearly empty flask as they passed it back and forth.

They were drunk. Drunk and laughing, talking nonsense, and feeling freer than they had in years.

“Oh my god, Munson, you’re such an idiot!” She laughed until her stomach hurt, barely remembering the last time she’d laughed this hard.

“Me? You’re the one who said the stupid thing first!” He slapped the floor, laughing. They weren’t sitting in the seats anymore; instead, they were on the floor, side by side, leaning against the train as they watched the snow fall fiercely outside.

“Oh, my belly hurts,” she gasped between fits of laughter, her face red from the joy. Her hat had fallen to the floor, along with the first layer of coats, slowly discarded as the warmth from the alcohol and their happiness filled the space.

And then, there was that comfortable silence after the laughter—the kind of silence that felt happy, with the last echoes of laughter fading away. His joyful laugh, the one she hadn’t realized she’d missed so much.

Jason had never laughed at her jokes like that. But Eddie did. She thought about it for a moment, how strange it was that he thought she was funny. Because Jason never did.

Chrissy glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, watching Eddie. She smiled softly, and then it hit her... how beautiful he looked when he smiled like that—throwing his head back, laughing like a little kid.

That wave of joy from the alcohol hit her with full force, and she threw her arms wide, her heart racing with an energy she hadn’t felt in years.

“I want... you know, have you ever felt like this?” She laughed breathlessly, her voice a little wobbly from the alcohol and excitement. “I want to do everything. I feel like I’ve been trapped for ten years. I want to see the world. I want to live—I want to do everything I’ve never done, everything I haven’t done in so long. I want to dance!”

Eddie looked at her, a playful glint in his eyes, his lips curling into that familiar grin. He shook his head, still laughing, clearly tipsy. “Ah, stop.”

“What?” She tilted her head, still smiling.

“Dancing’s easy.”

“Yeah, right.” She raised an eyebrow, skeptically, but the laughter in her voice was undeniable.

“No, seriously,” Eddie said, his tone suddenly softer, more sincere, as if he meant it. He locked eyes with her for a moment. “It’s easy. Come on, now, right now.” Without missing a beat, he jumped to his feet, his movements slightly unsteady but full of energy. He held out his hand to her, the gesture so simple yet so meaningful.

She looked up into his face—those familiar eyes full of mischief and something deeper, something softer, something that made her chest flutter. A warm, light flush spread across her cheeks, and a rush of emotion flooded through her. She felt her pulse quicken as she stared at him, unsure of what to do next but desperately wanting to be near him.

She finally took his hand.

“You’re drunk,” she said, her voice breathy, her lips curling into a smile. “You don’t dance.”

“That's true, but!” Eddie grinned, his eyes twinkling with that familiar spark. “But we’re going now. Come on, get up.” He gently pulled her to her feet, his hand in hers, still gloved. His smile was wide and inviting. Chrissy stumbled slightly, her balance off, and she laughed, the sound light and carefree.

She glanced down at her gloved hand, still holding his. The soft fabric of her glove blocked the full contact she had wanted, and a tiny thought flickered in her mind. She could feel his warmth through the fabric, but it wasn’t the same. She wondered, briefly, why she’d taken off her hat but kept the gloves on.

But that fleeting thought vanished as Eddie pulled her closer, grinning like a kid. She couldn’t stop smiling, the joy bubbling up inside her, her cheeks burning with a rush of happiness.

“We don’t even have music,” she said, her voice almost teasing, yet soft.

Eddie winked at her. “Of course we do.”

He fished around in his leather jacket pocket and pulled out his old Walkman, the one he’d been listening to all day. The last tape still inside: Perfect Day by Lou Reed.

Chrissy’s eyes fell on the tape, and she burst into laughter. “Oh my god, this is the world’s most depressing song!”

“We can change its meaning,” Eddie said, his voice teasing, but his smile was warm, and there was a certain (a lot of) affection in the way he looked at her.

She took a deep breath and let out a laugh that felt freer than anything she’d experienced in years. Eddie helped her up gently, and she wobbled slightly, her body still adjusting to the warmth of the alcohol.

Eddie chuckled, watching her with a bright, excited energy.

She practically bounced on her feet, as if she couldn't hold back the joy bubbling up inside her.

"Oh wait!" Chrissy exclaimed, realizing her hands were still gloved.

She slid the glove off, eager to feel his skin against hers. He waited patiently, then gently held her soft, delicate hand in his with the most careful touch, as if she were made of porcelain.

The moment her fingers brushed against his, she felt a shiver run up her spine, a quiet electricity that she tried to ignore but couldn’t. His hand was warm, his grip steady, and for a moment, she just stood there, holding his hand, letting the connection linger.

She had never been touched like this before—her small hand inside his large, calloused one, worn from playing guitar. She felt the cold of his rings against her still-warm skin, but she didn’t need to worry, because his hands would warm hers in place of the glove.

Chrissy felt a chill in her stomach, the kind she hadn’t felt in years. Her cheeks tingled, and she lowered her gaze, trying to steady her breathing. Her heart raced, pounding in her chest, her body warm—but it wasn’t just the alcohol.

He handed her one of the headphones, keeping the other for himself. They both giggled, their faces flushed, as they fumbled with the tangled wires, trying to figure out how to share the music.

The scene was ridiculous and adorable—two tipsy, clumsy souls trying to make it work.

Eddie paused for a moment, and without warning, he gently asked for permission with a glance. She nodded with a soft smile, her heart fluttering.

When he slid his hand around her waist, it sent a sharp shiver through her, a rush of heat flooding her cheeks as the familiar cold sensation returned to her stomach.

The way he pulled her closer, his chest pressing gently against hers, made her body feel alive in a way she hadn’t expected.

She wasn’t sure if it was the warmth of his body or the proximity between them, but she could feel the heat from his skin through the layers of clothing they both wore. He felt solid, real, and comforting.

Her breath hitched as she unconsciously rested her free hand on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath her palm.

Without saying a word, Eddie pressed play on the Walkman. The soft, familiar tune of Perfect Day by Lou Reed filled the small space between them.

The world outside seemed to vanish as they stood there, bodies close, swaying slightly to the music.

Chrissy’s heart raced again, but this time it wasn’t from nerves—it was from something new, something deep inside her that had awoken in this quiet, intimate moment. She looked up at him, and the connection between them felt so real, so full of promise.

The music played softly in the background, but in the small train carriage, everything around them seemed to be silenced. They were there, without haste, without words, just moving gently.

She could feel the rhythm of the music in the air, but their feet stayed still. It was as if time had slowed down, the snow falling outside creating the perfect backdrop for the moment, stretching out like a peaceful dream.

Chrissy looked up at Eddie, her body still warm from the closeness between them, and found him with his eyes closed. There was something vulnerable in the way he stood there, so near, yet so lost in the music and her presence.

When he rested his chin on top of her head, she felt a soft shiver, as if every strand of hair that brushed her skin was a delicate touch.

The intimacy of the moment deepened with every passing second, and she almost wanted to close her eyes too, but at the same time, she wanted to take in everything—the warmth of his body, the sound of the music, the peace of it all.

Suddenly, Eddie opened his eyes, and the moment they were sharing was broken. He realized she was looking at him, and their eyes met, almost instantly. He gave a slight start, a little embarrassed, and tried to cover it with a cough, shifting awkwardly as if trying to pretend he hadn't been caught in the act.

But just then, as the music picked up in tempo, Eddie grinned and, with a playful glint in his eyes, spun her around, making her laugh brightly. The sound was infectious, a burst of pure joy that made her heart race.

He pulled her back into him, their bodies pressed together, and they stood there for a moment, looking at each other. She couldn’t stop smiling, but as their faces drew closer, she lowered her eyes, a slight blush creeping up her cheeks.

Only Eddie Munson could take the world’s most depressive song and turn it into a soundtrack for one of the happiest moments of her life.

She sighed softly, the music coming to an end, Lou Reed’s voice still lingering in the air, singing You just keep me hanging on.

Chrissy couldn’t help but wonder how five minutes had passed so quickly.

She didn’t want it to end. It was the feeling you get when something good is about to slip away, and you try to hold onto the last moments with desperation. That’s exactly how she felt as she laid her head on his chest.

“Your heart is beating so fast,” she whispered, the rhythm of his heartbeat steady beneath her ear.

She could feel his chest, hard yet comforting against her cheek. The sound of his heartbeat was like music in itself, a rhythm that calmed her, wrapped her up in warmth.

“It’s the whiskey,” he replied softly, his breath brushing her skin as he chuckled lightly.

She could feel the vibration of his laughter against her face, still resting so close to him, and for a moment, she wished she could just melt into him—become part of him. To feel the happiness he brought her, all at once. To lose herself completely in that warmth, that lightness, that safe feeling she hadn’t known in so long.

“This is…so good,” she murmured, not sure if she said it aloud or just thought it.

She took a deep breath, inhaling the comfort of him, not wanting to let go.

She closed her eyes, the warmth of his chest so comforting. If she could, she would stay there forever, lost in that feeling. It felt like discovering happiness for the first time.

As the snow fell outside, and the warmth from the alcohol buzzed in their veins, Chrissy couldn’t help but think about how everything felt both incredibly fleeting and so incredibly real. The song, Perfect Day, had always felt like a bittersweet anthem—a reminder of everything she’d lost.

She had spent so many years, maybe too many, replaying moments in that forest, moments with Eddie that seemed to belong to another life. And now here they were, in this tiny, frozen world inside the train, laughing, dancing, like the years hadn’t even passed.

And yet, a quiet sadness tugged at her heart. She had spent the last decade replaying those memories, wondering why her life had only consisted of small, fleeting moments of happiness—moments that always slipped away too soon.

But tonight? Tonight was different. She was here, with him, laughing, feeling something she hadn't felt in years. Chrissy could almost feel hope swelling in her chest, mixing with the sadness, the thrill, the fear. She didn’t want to let go of this moment, this perfect, improbable night.

One hour with Eddie Munson was better than ten years of her life, just like that afternoon in the woods ten years ago was better than much of her life.

She knew, deep down, she’d spend the next ten years remembering this night—this song, this dance, the warmth of Eddie beside her.

The thought made her chest tighten.

But then, a thought lingered. Unless.

What if her life could be more than small, fleeting moments of happiness?

What if it could be more than just memories? What if, somehow, it could be a happy life?

A real life, with him in it, in all the ways she had always dreamed about, but was too afraid to imagine?

She looked up at Eddie, his wild eyes full of softness and something deeper, something real. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t too late for her to find out.

Her heart fluttered with the possibility.

The song ended, and she knew she should pull away, but neither of them moved, still wrapped in the moment.

"Merry Christmas," he whispered softly, and she laughed loudly, loving how he always managed to make her laugh, no matter the moment.

"You're such a fool, it's only 7 p.m.!" she teased him between giggles, playfully hitting his chest.

They both laughed, the sound echoing in the space between them. Then, the music shifted, a new song beginning to play softly.

"What’s this song?" she asked, her voice full of curiosity.

"Have no idea," he replied, just as she smiled at him, her heart lighter.

"Dancing feels so good. I should've danced more," she whispered slowly, her voice trailing off against his chest.

"I would have taken you to dance all the time if I had the chance," Eddie whispered so softly she almost didn't hear it. "And I don't even dance."

Then, she opened her eyes and looked up at him, her blue eyes sparkling with a new light. Eddie quickly looked away, a little embarrassed.

"Sorry, I’m drunk," he mumbled, regretting his words immediately.

He regretted it, but then again, when it came to Chrissy, it always required courage. For the last 10 years—or, I mean, much more than just 10 years—he had never had the courage to tell her she was beautiful or that he liked her. He never had the courage to ask her out. After that almost-kiss on the couch, after that afternoon in the forest that he couldn’t decide whether was real or just a figment of his stoned mind, she left.

And for the next ten years, despite a string of one-night stands and fleeting relationships, he always thought about her. Chrissy Cunningham—how is she? Even though he tried not to think about her after the news of her marriage in 1988, the last he’d heard about her. And now, like a gift from destiny he doesn’t even believe in, she's here, in his arms... like a Christmas gift, like a dream.

Courage, Munson, courage, he told himself again.

He looked at her, her eyes bright and full of life. Her hand was still resting on his chest. He knew this might be his only chance to have her this close.

"It’s not obvious?" he whispered.

"What?" she asked, confused.

“That I’m crazy about you," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "I have been for over 15 years."

Her mouth parted in surprise, her heart racing. She slid her hand over his chest, their faces so close now that he could feel her breath on his skin.

He wasn’t sure if she was pulling away or if she intended to touch him differently—maybe his face. But he’d never know because, in that moment, the lights flickered on, and the sound of the train’s engine filled the air.

They jumped, startled, as the train started moving again, the world outside suddenly rushing back into focus.

The sudden change in atmosphere caught them off guard. Their moment was interrupted when a train worker entered, looking at them with a raised eyebrow.

"What are you two doing here? You need to get to your seats now."

They scrambled, rushing to gather everything scattered on the floor, disoriented and panicked. The train worker was shouting at them, ordering them to fasten their seatbelts and make their way to their seats.

The train was battling a snowstorm, and everyone needed to buckle up. In the chaos, they didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye, not even a glance exchanged between them.

They had tickets for different sections, and all of them were full, so they couldn't sit together. Chrissy was pulled away, dragged into another car, and Eddie was ushered to his own, separated from her.

But with every passing second, Chrissy couldn’t help but glance back, her heart aching. If it weren’t for the snowstorm shaking the train, she would have run after him, desperate to find him again, to not let this moment slip away.

She felt an invisible pull, a longing to go back to him, to hold onto whatever fleeting connection they’d shared.

Eddie sat alone in the cold silence of his seat, staring out of the window, lost in thoughts... How she lingered like a tattoo on him, permanent, forever etched into his soul, nothing could erase her. How she haunted all over his what-ifs.

He thought about how, from the moment he was young, he knew he loved her.

For him, she was love—everything about her was what love meant.

He knew she’d curse him for the longest time, that he’d spend his whole life chasing shadows in mundane places, wondering if he would ever see her again, wondering if she would ever feel the same way. He always knew she’d come back to him, even though, deep down, he knew this was just another cycle they couldn’t break.

And now, like every time before, he had lost her again.

The minutes dragged on, the clock ticking down the final hour of the ride. Chrissy couldn't stop looking back, her heart pounding. She had no idea which car Eddie was in—this train was so big, so full of people.

The chaos of the train stopping when they arrived in Hawkins only made things worse. Everyone rushed to grab their luggage and get off. The line at baggage claim was long, and her anxiety made it feel like she couldn’t breathe.

She wanted to jump out of the line, to run, to find him. She didn’t know what she was doing; she just needed to see him again. Her hands shook as she grabbed her bag, pushing past people, ignoring the complaints and shouts as she cut through the line. She didn’t care. She needed to move, to find him.

The moment she stepped off the train, the cold air hit her like a slap, and she stumbled, disoriented by the blizzard that had taken over.

Snow fell in thick sheets, making everything around her blurry and indistinct. The chaos around her—the crowd of people, the loud voices, the luggage being pulled off—only added to her growing panic.

She looked desperately from side to side, her eyes scanning the sea of faces, searching for him. Where was he?

Her heart raced. Over a hundred people were exiting the train, and with each passing moment, she felt more and more lost in the storm. It was dark. The night was swallowing her up. And through it all, she kept looking, hoping, praying she'd spot him.

Where is he? Is he looking for her too?

The thought buzzed in her mind, but it was quickly drowned by the chaos and the storm around her. Her heart pounded in her chest as she fought to keep her focus. She wasn’t sure what she was doing, or why she was so frantic, but something deep inside urged her to keep moving.

Then...oh.

There he was.

Eddie Munson…

Clad in all black, standing against the sea of white snow, carrying his black suitcase in one hand and his guitar case in the other. The storm had swept his hair in wild directions, and only the red tip of his nose peeked through the strands. His gaze was low, distant, as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

For a moment, everything else faded. The noise, the snowstorm, the confusion. All she could see was him.

It was just him. It was always him.

"Eddie!" she screamed.

He stopped, his heart leaping in his chest. He’d been looking for her, but when their eyes met, he froze in shock.

After everything he had confessed, he thought she'd want to distance herself. But there she was, standing in the snow, her eyes searching his with an intensity that matched his own.

And without thinking, without hesitation, she ran.

Her boots sank into the snow with each step, but she didn’t care. She had no idea what she was doing, but there he was, and that was all that mattered.

"You... you weren't even going to say goodbye?"

The hurt in her voice made his chest tighten. Her words hit him like a wave, soft but full of pain.

The snowstorm whipped around them, their hair flying in all directions, making it nearly impossible to keep their eyes open, but neither of them looked away.

"I didn’t want to say goodbye," Eddie said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "I can’t say goodbye to you again. I can’t keep saying goodbye to you all the damn time, Chrissy Cunningham." He paused, his gaze softening. "But I know... I know there’s no other way."

The hurt in his face was clear—his nose red, but not from the cold. It was the kind of pain that went deeper, a sadness that weighed heavily on him.

She sighed deeply, her breath a cloud in the cold air. "I don’t want to say goodbye either, Eddie." Her voice broke, raw and vulnerable, her eyes never leaving his.

Their hearts pounded in their chests, fast and loud. Neither of them knew what to do, standing in the middle of the crowd, in the midst of the storm. The world rushed around them, yet they remained frozen, caught in their own moment.

"Come with me, Chrissy," he said. "Not just for Christmas, not just for now... but... come with me."

Courage. He had courage. He was finding it now.

His voice sounded desperate. The words slipped out before he could stop them, and the instant they did, fear gripped him.

Eddie regretted it, terrified of pushing her away with the intensity of his feelings. He opened his mouth to apologize, to say something less bold, but before he could, he saw her nod.

It wasn’t just a nod. It was as if she was agreeing to everything. To him. To the future. To the unknown. Yes…YES.

She gave him a big smile, the biggest in the world... and he... he smiled right back at her, the prettiest one that made her stomach flutter with butterflies.

They only broke the moment when hurried people brushed past them, their busy paths interrupting the stillness.

"Are these your things?" Eddie asked, looking at the heavy suitcase in her hand. She nodded. "Let me carry it for you," he said, his voice warm, but she just laughed again, the sound lifting his heart.

"Thank you," she smiled, a warmth spreading through her chest, not used to this kind of gentleness.

"Oh my God, it's freezing," Chrissy laughed, her teeth chattering slightly as they started walking, lost in the rhythm of their own steps.

"I'll keep you warm," Eddie whispered, his voice soft but sure, as if he would never let her feel cold again. "Can I?" he asked, his gaze meeting hers with a tenderness she hadn't expected.

She nodded without a second thought, her heart doing an excited leap in her chest.

She felt his hand—the one not holding their things—brush lightly against her cold fingers.

She hadn’t realized she’d forgotten her gloves, but the moment his skin touched hers, the chill melted away.

Eddie’s fingers gently caressed hers, a warmth spreading from his touch, so steady and comforting.

“There you go, ma’am,” he said softly, his grin playful as he blew warm air onto her frozen hands.

She laughed, the sound ringing out, a mixture of joy and surprise at how simple, yet intimate, this moment was.

“C’mon, before you catch a cold. Uncle Wayne left me a car this morning. He’s gonna love you.”

Eddie’s joy was overflowing, his excitement clear in his voice as he walked, nearly stumbling with happiness.

"Shit, sorry," he quickly apologized after bumping into a passerby, his enthusiasm getting the best of him.

Chrissy couldn’t help but laugh at how contagious his energy was.

Her first real Christmas. Her smile was wide and genuine, a blend of excitement and anticipation—this was real, this was hers. A Christmas filled with warmth, love, and the promise of something she had never experienced before.

"Do you like roast turkey? Uncle Wayne makes the best," Eddie asked, grinning at her with that spark of pure joy in his eyes.

"Yes, I love it!" she said, practically bouncing with excitement.

The feeling of happiness was so new, so refreshing, she couldn’t help but feel like a little kid again. This Christmas was going to be perfect.

They walked together through the snow, Eddie's smile wide and genuine, and Chrissy’s laughter ringing out in the cold air.

And as they moved forward, hand in hand, it felt like she could spend the whole night here, the whole life here—right here, with him.

Eddie's hand in hers felt like the most natural thing in the world, as if they had always been meant to find each other here, now, in this fragile, beautiful moment.

"Are you sure?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled, his face soft and full of longing, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite describe, but she knew it was everything she had ever wanted.

"I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life."

And in that moment, the snow fell around them like confetti, a celebration of what was to come.

Eddie's words, his touch, everything about this night felt like destiny weaving them together.

Her breath came out in clouds, but all she could think about was the way Eddie’s hand fit perfectly in hers, the way their laughter filled the air, the way everything felt so beautifully, effortlessly right.

And just as the chaos of the world outside seemed to swirl around them, she realized something: She wasn’t afraid anymore. She wasn’t afraid of love, of the unknown, or of the future. Because with Eddie by her side, everything felt... safe. Everything felt like it was going to be okay.

And as their hands intertwined, stepping into the snow, they both knew: this was just the beginning.

They kept walking, the world around them a blur of snow, light, and Christmas cheer, and Chrissy’s heart swelled with a love she had never known she was capable of feeling.

She had spent the last ten years believing that love only broke, burned, and ended. But on Christmas Day, amidst a snowstorm and a stalled train, in this whirlwind of snow and light — she watched it begin again.

The end.

I really enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoyed reading it. If you liked it, let me know <3

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