#will leave it to her friends to make it special

[mywritersmind]

NOT SO HAPPY HOLIDAYS - LN4

↳pt.5

christmas special

part one - part two - part three - part four

summary : As the days start getting closer to Christmas, you find yourself even more comfortable with your previous enemy. In a drunken spirit and ego boosted from karaoke, Lando can’t control his words. Even when Max finds you two in bed together.

og summary : Spending Christmas with my brothers best friend isn’t my ideal way to celebrate. With my parents in the maldives and my ex calling me non stop, I was hoping for a small town cozy christmas! I was going to get that with Max and his girlfriend until Lando Norris worked his way into the mix.

listen up : dual pov! alcohol! swearing! drunk lando!

words : 3334

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“Lando. Listen to me.” Oscar says over the phone, his voice registering in my brain but being distinctly distracted by two women taking instagram photos next to me.

“I am listening.” I mumble, watching Y/n turn and smile at the camera. My phone vibrates in my hand and I see that Oscar has requested facetime instead.

“What?” I look at the man who’s sitting in the sun and probably at the beach, “Can you pay attention for two seconds? I don’t want to be talking about work either.”

I sigh, turning away from the girls, “Can I ask you something?” I walk farther away just in case they can hear me.

Oscar groans at me still being off topic, “Shoot.”

“How did you know Lily fancied you?”

His brow jolts up, “I mean, We were pretty young, I just remember that she spoke to me a lot and she-” Lily pops her head in the call now.

“Don't listen to him, Lando! He was absolutely oblivious even though I was literally a giggling school girl around him.”

Oscar looks at her lovingly, “You were quite smiley.”

“Okay wrap it up lovebirds.” I roll my eyes.

Lily leaves and Oscar looks at me quizzically again, “So, who do you like so much that would possess you to ask that question?” I stay quiet for a moment, glancing back at Y/n who’s backlit by the sun, “Aren’t you with your family? Or Max and his girlfriend right?”

“No one. I’m just curious.” Deny deny deny.

He hums, “Wait… Doesn't Max have that sister you stalked all year-”

“Okay bye Oscar!”

He scrambles to get words in, “Wait we still need to talk about-”

I hang up on him.

⋆༺

Max and I have been kicked out by our the women. More like I was kicked out and Max was just craving a coffee. It’s not my fault I can’t cook!

After almost catching Y/n’s hair on fire, I was banished to the little coffee shop that’s been getting us through this week.

The barista hands us our coffees and one hot chocolate for Y/n. Max and I walk slowly to our car, looking at the scenery on the way. “I’m excited for Christmas.”

I smile as Max hums, “You’re awfully chipper.” He gives me a side eye and a smirk, to which I promptly shove him, “Ugh! I do not want to know!”

He laughs, “I know that P teases you about it, But I really do think a girlfriend would be good for you.”

I don’t just want a girlfriend. I want Y/n. I kick a rock at my feet, mumbling, “Yeah I doubt that.” I meant that he wouldn’t want me to have a girlfriend if it was his sister, just he scoffs.

“Think about it! This year was completely fucked and yeah a lot of good shit happened but imagine how much easier the bad shit would be if you were in love.”

“You’re disgusting. Us ten years ago would be gagging at this conversation.”

He’s smiling still, “Yeah and that’s because I am in love.” I roll my eyes at his cheesy ass, “How do you have no roster, mate? It’s honestly embarrassing.”

“Maybe I do.” I sip my coffee, “I don’t have to tell you everything.”

“Maybe i’m just hanging out with Y/n and P too much, their best friend girly vibes are fun.” He points to me, “Still, it’s break! Get your groove on!”

I walk faster, shaking my head. “Groove? I’m going to leave you in the snow.”

⋆༺

you

I’m in a mini dress in the snow. What could go wrong?

I slip five minutes out the door which makes Lando’s arm become my new best friend even though my faux fur coat keeps tickling him.

We may or may not have pregamed for the tiny local bar which has me slipping on ice. “Four jolly jolly shots please…” Lando reads off the bar's menu, laughing a bit.

He looks good. Like really really good. His curls are perfect as usual and when he leans over to talk to the bartender, his dark green shirt tugs against his arms.

My brothers arm goes around my neck, tugging me and laughing, “Merry Christmas, sis!”

“Let go of me you vermin!”

“Shots!” P sings, handing me mine.

“Cheers to us!” Max grins, holding his tiny glass up.

“Cheers to Christmas.” P smiles happily.

Lando taps his glass on the table along with us, winking at me, “Cheers.” We all down the weird peppermint alcohol and swiftly make our way to the dance floor.

We sing along to shitty music and dance together in a crowd of college kids home for break, and their parents.

Lando’s hand finds my waist and is quickly slapped away. He gives me a pouty look which I find annoyingly attractive and quickly turns it into a smirk.

I down my drink, spinning back to my friends and dodging a guy and his friends. “Hey!” The guy smirks and I accidentally laugh in his face, he looks about five years younger than me and is staring at my chest.

I find my friends laughing and drinking with a random man who sort of looks like santa.

“Y/n!” Lando puts his arm around me which I promptly pull off.

“Aren’t you busy trying to hook up with a tourist?” I blink at him while my brother and P are distracted.

He leans in a bit, “You’re a tourist, aren’t you?”

“You trying to get in my pants, Norris?” This makes him smile.

“I’m familiar with the area.”

I find myself at the bar again, but this time I order water. P and I giggle at the sight of Max and Lando just standing there looking lost without us.

“I’m really proud of you.” P says out of the blue.

I frown, “Thanks? I’m proud of you too.”

“I just mean… you’ve been through a lot.” I know what she means. My ex. “And you’re the best person I know.”

I smile, “I adore you, P.”

The truth is, my ex cheating really did break me. But I already knew something was wrong. I wasn’t being treated correctly and honestly breaking up with him was not on the top of my to-do list.

P was always there for me, my brother is a lot to handle and sometimes I just need a girl to talk to. That girl for me is P.

She pops back to her boyfriend while my water gets refilled. I swear this altitude is fucking with me, i’m so thirsty all the time.

“Hi.” I'm about to yell at the college guy who approaches me, until I realize there is no way this man is under twenty five.

“Oh! Hi.” I smile politely and tap the bar.

I clock his douchy attitude as soon as his ringed hand (which definitely came from shein) and patchwork tattoos land on the bar, clearly flexing.

“You’re gorgeous… Sorry, I just had to tell you!” He acts shy, like it’s horribly embarrassing to hit on. woman.

“Thank you…” Is all I can say before he continues.

“I’m Seth!” He’s australian… I think? He’s got short hair with dark skin that makes his eyes pop. “Are you visiting? I am.”

I nod and sip my water, “Yeah…”

“My girlfriend used to live here! My friends let me choose the place and…” He’s going on a long rant that I definitely did not consent to hear.

He’s loud in the way that i’m embarrassed to be heard with because he’s talking nonsense and trying to scoot closer to me with every word he speaks.

I bring my glass to my lips again, looking around then back to Seth who is still talking about his ex. Did I do something to offend the universe?

The hand on my hip scares me, but I don’t jump. I know the feeling too well by now. Lando’s smiling at the bartender, a protective arm around me, “Three green tea shots, thanks.”

He leans his hip against the bar, holding me close as my cheeks go red and I start chugging my water. Seth looks absolutely astonished, “Who’s your new friend, Sunshine?”

“Seth.” I say, swirling my straw around the cold glass.

“Hey man…” Seth looks scared. “I- I didn’t know she was taken.”

“She’s not.” He’s quick with it and I have to bite back my smile to contain myself from embarrassing Seth even more.

“Oh…” Seth hums, clearly wanting to go but I know Lando’s doing that thing where he states blankly at someone while smiling. “Well uh…”

“Choose your words carefully, Seth.” Lando slides him the shot then hands one to me. I decline and he downs it easily.

“Thanks.” He downs the drink with Lando, “And sorry.” Seth looks at me before scurrying off.

I turn to Lando, his hand never moving from my body, “Who knew you were so intimidating?

He shrugs, “I don’t mess around with the people I care about. Plus he just seemed like he was bugging you.”

“Quite talkative.” I smile softly as he laughs, “You’re good at the whole protective act.”

“Who said I was acting?” His face is serious when he says it, but immediately changes when he hears Max’s voice.

“Yo!” His hand drops to his side and he smiles at my approaching brother, “They have karaoke!”

P and Max end up on stage exactly two drinks later. I stick to water, my head already hurts from the others singing.

They're singing Ain’t No Mountain High Enough, and sort of slaying it. Max spins P as they both laugh and pretend they’re at some sort of concert.

“Please get up there!” I giggle with Lando, my hand on his arm as he smiles at me in that dreamy way he does so often.

“No way, Sunshine.” His eyes lined on my lips, his words a bit slurred.

“Please, Lan?”

A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, “What’ll you give me if I do?” My breathing quickens as he looks at me, drunk and so out of it that he looks like he’s about to kiss me.

I reach my arm out to fix the messy bit of his hair. His eyes follow my hand and drift down my arm back to me. There’s something so personal about the way he looks at me but it’s hard to explain.

He’s got many different expressions and maybe I'm just a bit self centered, but I swear he has some just for me.

He’s drunk now so all secrecy goes out the window. He’s lucky Max and P are singing so horribly on the tiny sticky stage.

“Whatever you want.” I pull my hand away, “When you’re sober, though.”

“I’m not even that many drinks in!” He scoffs in a whiny tone.

He’s five drinks in I think.

“But i’ll do whatever you say apparently.” His chair makes noise against the floors, practically pushing P and Max off the stage as his chosen music starts.

Linger, by the cranberries.

My smile grows as he starts, absolutely butchering the song immediately. He looks fucking free and absolutely ridiculous.

The microphone against his lips as he spins around and points to me, “You’ve got me wrapped around your fingerrrrrr!”

It was my favorite song in highschool.

He’s a terrible singer and incredibly drunk but knows all the lyrics by heart.

Max starts videoing and Lando flips him off, P is actually in tears and I feel a sense of calm and quiet happiness. It’s weird to think about, especially surrounded by sound and drunken people.

Still, I really do appreciate my friends in moments like these. I watch Lando on the stage again, his eyes are closed and he’s singing along quietly.

Most of the bar claps when he’s done, providing him false confidence even as he almost falls from the stage.

Lando slumps himself in the chair next to mine, Max and I speaking about old Christmas’ and how weird it is that so many things have changed.

P talks about her family traditions and how she’s happy we’re all together even if it is a bit unconventional.

Lando stays quiet, just hums along to the music and keeps his eyes closed. Max laughs at his friend, “Ready for bed, Bob?”

“I can drive back.” I sit up.

Max and P aren’t quite ready to go and assure me that they can take a cab. Lando, however is piss drunk and giggling at everything I say.

He holds onto my hand as we leave, the cold air hitting him like a wreck, “Ay!” He practically runs to the car, tries to get in the driver's seat, and finally gives in to me driving.

“I don't want to go back!” He complains as I drive off.

“We can… look at lights?” He nods eagerly and rests his head against my arm, his fingers drift up and down my arm, doodling invisible drawings.

I drive through the small neighborhoods, all quiet for the time of night. The lights are bright and nothing like where I actually live.

Lando slips his hand in mine, holding it tight and looking out the front window. I let him rub his thumb against my skin, acknowledging the goosebumps it sends up arm.

Maybe I let myself pretend like it means something more than Lando’s drunk touchy self.

His curls brush my bare arm because he requested I take off my coat and turn the heat up instead because it was ‘itching him’.

And I did it because something about Lando makes me just want to say yes.

“I wanna house like that.” He says, pointing to a medium sized white home. It’s got colorful lights all over and a tiny display of Rudolph in the yard.

“I like this one.” I take my free hand off the wheel for a second and point. It’s across the street and covered in white lights.

I keep driving as Lando turns the radio on which is playing Christmas music.

He hums along with the song that he most definitely doesn’t know.

His hand goes to my hair, twirling it around his finger as he looks up at me, doe eyed, “Can I have my reward now.”

“You’re nowhere close to being sober, love.”

He stops when I speak, whispering as if there’s a million people around, “You called me love.”

“You’re not even gonna remember this tomorrow.”

He gasps, “Tomorrow's Christmas eve! What a good present. You love me.” He hums and rests his head back against my shoulder.

“Keep dreaming, Norris.” I say while smiling.

We look at all the different lights, rating them and laughing. I mostly laugh at drunk Lando who can’t stop laughing.

Lando rolls down the window and even though it’s freezing, I let him. It’s silent out, except for our music on low.

“Do you like me?” Lando asks as I start back to our place.

I raise a brow, “Sure.”

“But do you?” He looks up at me but I don’t dare look down.

“I don’t hate you.”

It’s easier to get him into the house than it was to get him in the car. Besides a tiny slip, he laughs it off and instantly pulls his shirt off when we step inside the hot house.

We both stumble upstairs, I'm so tired that I could fall asleep on the floor. Yet I drag myself into the bathroom and remove my makeup and change into sweats and a hoodie.

Lando is in sweats now, leaning against the bathroom door as I brush my hair. “I can’t sleep.”

I laugh, “You haven’t even tried.”

“Come with me?” I shake my head, going to my own bed. He follows me still, catching my wrist and begging, “Please. I’m cold.”

“You have no shirt on.”

“I want you to.” He admits and for a second I wish he wasn’t so fond of Vodka.

I’m dragged into his bed, his arms wrapping around me quickly and humming against my hoodie, “You’re warm.” His hand goes to mine again, holding it.

“You’re gonna get us in trouble.” I say as I see the smirk on his face.

“The doors locked.”

His hand is still intertwined with mine when he looks up at me. I probably look terrible, but he just smiles.

“You’re really beautiful, Sunny.” His voice is clear and the softest it’s been in a while, especially while drunk.

He yawns and rests his head back on me. Lando whispers while his eyes are closed, i’m not even sure if he meant to say it out loud, but he does. “I hate you for it.”

It’s the first time his words really hit me.

“Why?” I whisper, staring up at the ceiling.

“You know.” And then he’s asleep and i’m stuck with a man cuddling me who I think I just might like more than I ever thought I could.

⋆༺

There’s few times in my life where I completely regret my life’s decisions. This might just be one of them.

Max is staring at us with his mouth open.

Max is staring at Lando’s shirtless self and his bare arm that’s around me!

I elbow Lando so hard that he wakes up with a groan. “Five more minutes.” He tries to pull me closer but I slap him again.

He opens his eyes this time, at first they’re narrowed at me as if I had the audacity to wake him up. Then he turns his head to what i’m staring at and promptly sits up straight.

“Goodmorning, Max!” He grins.

“Shut the fuck up.” My brother responds, Lando’s face goes slack and lays back down, covering his face with a pillow, “Is this why you two wanted to leave early yesterday?”

“No!” I say right as Lando says, “Yes!”

“I think I'm going to throw up.” Max starts pacing while I see P peek her head in from my room, surveying the situation as I mouth ‘help me’ and he leaves me.

“Chill out! Nothing happened.” I say while Lando moans and reaches for the water on his bedside table. “Right, Lando!?” I hit him again.

He sends me an annoyed look, “Right.” He takes a drink, wiping his mouth and looking at Max, “Trust me mate if something did happen she wouldn’t be wearing anything.”

I think he might still be drunk.

Max and I scream in unison. I climb out of the bed, my leg getting stuck in the bedsheet.

“I came to check if you two were still alive because it’s eleven in the morning, but Lando’s door was locked. Yours wasn’t and your room connector was wide open!” I roll my eyes and stomp into my room.

“His drunk ass practically dragged me in there and I wanted to sleep!” I shrug, putting on my slippers and pulling my bed head hair into a messy bun.

“My head is pounding, can you two be quiet!?” Lando says from the other room.

Max follows me down the stairs, “Nothing happened?”

“Nothing happened!” I echo, finding P in the kitchen and sending her a wide eyed look, “He was drunk, Max.”

I pour myself some coffee, crossing my arms as Max gives me a look. Lando comes thumping down the stairs, hoodie on now with his hair an absolute mess. “Guys…”

Max stops him, “If you make another sex joke Lan, I might kill you.”

“Hey!” He groans, taking my coffee from out of my hands and drinking it! I roll my eyes and pour myself another. “I was just going to say-”

“Choose your words very carefully, Norris.” I mumble.

“Happy Christmas Eve.” He raises his mug, smiling at all of us.

“Oh.” Max blinks as P lets out a little snort.

“Well then…” P smiles at me, “I think it’s time to cook!”

[persevereforahappyending]

No Man's Land |15 - Final|

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 2.7k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

Sam stood next to Tara as she got patched up in the ambulance. Sam couldn’t believe she made it out without another stab wound and that Tara only got stabbed in the shoulder. Her eyes drifted across the way to see you in the back of another ambulance, getting stitched up once again. It seemed you had been right; you tore open all of your stitches, again.

Chad was standing next to you, seeming to talk rather animatedly as he gestured around crazily with his arms. Sam was sure that when they got outside, they’d find Chad in a puddle of blood, but they didn’t, he had been completely fine. When Chad hadn’t been able to get ahold of Mindy, he said he went to go inside but the doors were all locked, so he ran to the nearest police station. By the time they were leaving the building police and medics were already waiting, a few minutes earlier and maybe Bailey and the others would have been arrested instead of dead.

“You know,” Tara said, interrupting Sam’s thoughts. She looked to see her sister was all patched up and now had a simple makeshift sling as she hopped down from the ambulance. “They’re not so bad,” she nodded in your direction. Sam followed her sister’s gaze and couldn’t help but smile. “I think you picked a good one.”

Sam let out a breathless laugh. She knew Tara was right, you were one of the good ones. They didn’t lose anyone with you by their side, you ended up getting the most hurt out of all of them in fact. Sam didn’t even want to know where they’d all be without you, she certainly didn’t think they’d make it out and she didn’t think she could handle losing any of them.

“I almost got them killed,” Sam said. She couldn’t see why you’d ever stick around; no one was crazy enough to put up with her after seeing her life. She figured you’d return to North Carolina and go back to your special ops missions; you were clearly quite good at it after all.

Tara scoffed and Sam looked back at her sister just in time to see her rolling her eyes. “You’re ridiculous,” Tara said. “They almost died for you!” She gestured at you. Sam furrowed her brow; Tara said the same exact thing she just did but in a different tone. Sam couldn’t figure out how it was any different, she was pretty sure you almost dying for her and her almost getting you killed meant the same thing.

“They’re still here,” Tara said slower as if that would make Sam understand better. Sam guessed it was obvious she was still confused because Tara threw her head back and let out an exaggerated groan. “They know everything,” she gestured widely. “And they still stayed.”

“They had a whole life before me.” Sam watched as the medic finished stitching up another one of your wounds.

“And you could be a part of it.”

“I don’t-”

“You deserve to be happy Sam.” Sam snapped her head towards her sister in shock, Tara sounded so confident when she said that. “You just got to take the chance:”

Sam sighed and looked back over at you. You stayed, you got hurt protecting her and her friends. Not to mention the fact that you also killed two people for her, probably would have done all three but you let her have Bailey. You didn’t need that kind of drama in your life, you could go back to your own life before you ever met her. Sam wasn’t even sure what a relationship with you would even look like. She worked two jobs to pay for the apartment and Tara would always be her priority. She would be stuck working dead end jobs because she never went to college, she barely got her high school diploma, but you were exceptional, you were smart and strong, you were a hero.

“Hey,” Chad said as he jogged up to the sisters. “I just got off the phone with Mindy.”

“Is she okay?” Tara asked. Sam watched Chad’s face with worry, they didn’t know anything besides the fact that Quinn apparently stabbed her. Chad had been asking for information on his sister since they got outside, several people said they’d learn what they could.

“Yeah,” Chad nodded. “She’s at the hospital, she said Gale also made it.” Sam couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief, her and Gale may have had their differences, but she certainly didn’t want to see the woman die, Gale didn’t deserve that. “I was going to head down there now; did you want to come with?”

Sam opened her mouth to say yes, she wanted to see Mindy and even Gale for herself. She wanted to be able to tell Gale that they got them, that it was finally over. The words never came out though as her eyes drifted back over to you. Chad whipped his head back and forth looking between you and Sam, when she finally turned back to answer Chad he was giving her a knowing smile.

“They’re okay,” Chad said without even being asked. “Giving the medics a hard time.”

Sam couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle and roll her eyes. That definitely seemed accurate, they were probably trying to give you the best care possible while you insisted you were fine. Sam was sure the only reason they didn’t take you to the hospital was because you, once again, denied doing so.

“But you should talk to them,” Chad continued. Sam raised an eyebrow at that, she knew how much Chad liked you. Only one conversation and you had Chad vouching for you and had him telling you all about them, probably when you didn’t even ask. “They seem great!” He smiled innocently.

Sam rolled her eyes again; between Chad and her sister she didn’t know what she’d do. “We’ll meet you at the hospital in a bit,” Sam finally said. Chad nodded and ran off to a police officer who seemed willing to give him a ride.

Sam looked up just as you smiled and thanked the medic as she packed up her supplies. She looked back to her sister who gestured at her to go over to you. Sam sighed and made her way towards you. She had talked to you plenty of times, it wasn’t until you almost died trying to save her life, but since then it seemed like the two of you shared a lot. You talked about your past, Sam talked about hers, the two of you even shared a kiss when you spent the night. None of that meant you wanted anything more, if anything you’d probably want nothing to do with her.

“Hey,” you said as you hopped out of the ambulance.

“Are you okay?” Sam asked. She looked you up and down, her eyes seemed to only go to the injuries she knew you had and a the blood covering your shirt. She knew most of the blood couldn’t have been yours, it was most likely from Quinn and Ethan.

“Yeah,” you shrugged as if everything that happened to you was no big deal. “What about you?” Your brow scrunched up as your eyes searched her face. Sam hadn’t even been stabbed and yet you were asking if she was okay. “And your sister,” you nodded at something behind her and Sam glanced back to see Tara watching the two of you.

Sam rolled her eyes; Tara was relentless when she made up her mind about something. “She’ll be okay, has to wear the sling for a few day.”

You let out a knowing hum. “And Chad said Mindy and Gale made it. Guess everyone made it out,” you smiled.

“Only thanks to you.” You scoffed and let out a little chuckle as if you didn’t actually believe Sam’s words. “I’m serious.” You rolled her eyes, still clearly not ready to accept what Sam was telling you. “Hey,” without thinking Sam reached out and caressed your cheek which you almost instinctively leaned into. “You saved us, there is no way all of us would have made it out, especially with most of us unscathed.”

You gave her a soft smile, finally seeming to accept the fact that you wouldn’t win this argument. The two of you fell into a comfortable silence and Sam couldn’t help but get lost in your eyes as they stared into her own. “Your sister is staring at us,” you whispered, never taking your eyes off of Sam.

Sam felt her face heat up at that, she should have known you’d notice, you proved to be rather observant. “She’s making sure I talk to you,” Sam admitted.

“About anything in particular?” Your mouth twitched up in a smirk, as if you knew what Tara wanted Sam to talk to you about.

“I just…” the words got caught in her throat as she stared into your eyes. She couldn’t believe the person who was looking at her with so much cared had just killed two people, had killed them for her.

“Just what?” you rasped out. Sam wasn’t sure when she got so close to you, she had heard you as if you were the only two in the world.

Sam shook her head and pushed out all the voices telling her this was a bad idea and that you could still hurt her. She didn’t hesitate as she shot forward, catching your lips in a surprising kiss. She felt you stiffen but before she could pull away you grabbed her by the waist, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss. Sam couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, it was even better than the first one and this time she didn’t intend on stopping you.

Eventually the two of you did have to breakaway because both of you needed to catch your breath. Sam couldn’t remember the last time she smiled so much, she bit her lip as she looked up at you shyly, as if she hadn’t just been to make the first move. She didn’t ask permission; she just went for it and the soft smile on your face was making her want to do it all over again.

“My life’s a mess,” Sam blurted out, but this time she was smiling as she spoke. “As you’ve seen,” she gestured to the chaos around them. “But, would you maybe,” Sam couldn’t help but bite her bottom lip as she was suddenly unable to look you in the eye. “Want to go out sometime?”

Sam glanced up through her lashes and was met with your soft smile. “I’d like that,” you said.

Sam smiled; it had been a long time since she asked someone out. She almost felt like she was back in high school, having her first crush. You gently put your finger under her chin and tilted her head up, so she was looking into your eyes again. Both of you couldn’t seem to help but smile as you leaned in for another kiss.

You broke the kiss quicker than Sam would like this time; she wanted to chase after your lips, but it was clear you had something you wanted to say. “Maybe I’m overthinking and rushing this,” you whispered. “Maybe our first date will go horrible, and you won’t want another.” Sam couldn’t help but silently chuckle at that, she didn’t think that was possible. “But I’m not easy to be with.” Sam furrowed her brow at that.

“I’m military, if I’m not deployed, I’m in North Carolina, I only get to come back home, to here, when I’m on leave, maybe a weekend, if I’m lucky,” you sighed, you seemed to really be stressing how little you would actually physically be able to be in the same place at Sam. “A lot of people don’t want to put up with that. You’re trying to lessen the complications in your life, I don’t want to add to it.”

Sam rested a hand on the side of your face, you closed your eyes as you leaned into her touch and Sam couldn’t help but smile at the sight. “I don’t think either of us can make any promises, or that we should,” Sam said. “But I’m willing to try.” You gave her what she could only describe as a relieved smile, as if you expected her to back down. “Let’s just live in the moment and take it day by day.”

“I like the sound of that.” You smiled and it seemed like you were about to lean in for another kiss, which Sam was more than happy to meet in the middle when the two of you were interrupted by someone calling out Sam’s name.

Sam furrowed her brow and turned to see Kirby being wheeled out on a gurney. “Oh my god,” Sam yelled and ran to Kirby’s side. “You’re alive!”

“I’m so glad while I was bleeding out, you two were making out,” Kirby mumbled, slightly drowsy from the drugs the medics gave her, or the blood loss.

“We weren’t the ones and who got ourselves shot,” you snarked.

“Hey,” Kirby pointed a finger at you, leaning up from the gurney slightly. “Remember who gave you that gun.” Sam’s eyes widened, she completely forgot you had a gun, one you didn’t tell her about. “And it seems it came in handy.”

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes and waved her off. “We’ll stop by and visit in a bit.”

Kirby nodded, seeming to get more sleepy the longer she laid there. “You did good sergeant.” You smiled at that and nodded for the medics to continue on towards the ambulance.

Sam crossed her arms as she stepped in front of you. She raised an expectant eyebrow at you, and you just tilted your head, as you pretended to be confused. “You failed to mention Kirby gave you a weapon,” Sam said.

“The less people who knew the better,” you defended. Sam scoffed; she couldn’t believe you were trying that with her. “And look, your sister is coming over,” you gestured to the side, effectively changing the subject as Sam glanced over and saw Tara was indeed walking over.

“So, you two together now?” Tara asked as a greeting.

“No!” Sam denied, she was sure her face was bright red after that. “We’ve barely known each other three days.” It felt like she had known you a lot longer than that, even if she didn’t count the longing stares she gave you at the gym the last three months. “But, we are going on a first date.”

Tara rolled her eyes. “Guess that’s something,” she mumbled. Sam smacked her sister in the arm and nodded towards you. Tara gave a dramatic roll of her eyes again. “You did good,” she nodded at you. “Total badass.” Sam closed her eyes and let out a long sigh, that wasn’t exactly what she had in mind. “And thanks for saving our lives,” Tara mumbled under her breath.

You took it well though and just quietly chuckled at her sister. “You weren’t so bad yourself,” you said.

“Come on,” Sam said, giving you and Tara a tired smile. “Let’s go check on Mindy and Gale.”

The three of you walked away from the flashing lights and the chaos all of you just survived. Sam couldn’t help but smile as her hand brushed against yours, until you took the initiative and took her hand within your own. She glanced at you out of the side of her eye and saw you looking ahead, the only evidence that you knew what you did was the smirk on your face.

“So,” Tara said, interrupting the peaceful silence. “How many dates do the two of you have to go on before I can meet the dog?”

Sam chuckled to herself; she should have known that would be a thing. The second Tara learned you had a dog her face lit up. Sam wasn’t sure she wanted to see your dog again; she was still a bit intimidated but based on the smile on your face and the way Tara was looking at her, she had a feeling she’d be seeing a lot more of the dog.

Taglist: @thatshyboy1998 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @acutenobody @godamnityess

@luvwanda @rqizzu @riyaexee @bella423 @rayisaknight

@assgradiangod @canyonyodeler @marsyay78

[levans44]

underneath the tree

pairing: steve rogers x agent!reader

summary: Everything is where it should be: a giant pot of mulled wine simmering quietly on the stove, colorful bags of icing and sugary sprinkles strewn all over the cookie decorating station. Even an old-timey record player crackles softly in the corner, one you’d thrifted on a whim in hopes of teasing a certain someone about it.

Except that certain someone wasn’t… here. 

warnings: fluff, mutual pining, friends to lovers, first kiss, light angst

word count: 2.7k

a/n: hey friends, this one’s a holiday special w/ pure fluff (and a pinch of angst b/c who am i without it?) feedback is always welcome! thanks for reading and happy holidays 🎄✨

“Santa’s… Favorite… Ho.” 

The words glitter in bold, obnoxious cursive, smack dab across the chest of your favorite red-haired assassin. 

“Good one, Romanoff.”  You smirk, biting back a laugh as she levels you with a deadpan stare, betrayed by the faint twitch at the corner of her crimson lips.  

Your very first time hosting a Christmas Party. 

Or, as Nat lovingly dubbed it—a ’Derelict’s Christmas.’ 

It’s a tradition you’re determined to start this year, for anyone on the team without family during the holidays—a way to make sure no one spends this time of year alone.

And, naturally, another opportunity to humiliate your coworkers. 

The rules were simple: everyone had to show up in the ugliest, most eye-searing sweater they could find. No exceptions.

And I mean ugly, Nat. A basic red sweater is not ugly. 

Even Bucky’s adhered to your law, donning a laid-back penguin wearing sunglasses, sprawled beneath the words ‘Chill Vibes Only.’ A festive tinsel garland spirals around his left arm, which will undoubtedly be the subject of jokes he won’t live down until well after New Years.

Wait, does this make you the Winter Wonderland Soldier?

As you glance around your living room, soft, warm light dances off the mismatched decorations adorning the walls—the kind you’d spent all week setting up���and you can’t help but feel a distinct melancholic warmth reserved for this time of the year.

Everything is where it should be: a giant pot of mulled wine simmering quietly on the stove, colorful bags of icing and sugary sprinkles strewn all over the cookie decorating station. Even an old-timey record player crackles softly in the corner, one you’d thrifted on a whim in hopes of teasing a certain someone about it.

Except that certain someone wasn’t… here. 

Your eyes flick to the door for what must be the tenth time in as many minutes.

No luck. 

You try to tell yourself it’s just traffic, that he’ll walk through any second. But the party flows on, cruelly indifferent—drinks flowing, laughter bubbling—Sam’s already made his second sappy toast of the night and is well on his way to a third. With each passing minute, the excitement in your chest grows heavy, twisting into disappointment.

Sure, he’s probably got a million other things to do. Even on Christmas. 

But when you’d brought up your little soiree, he’d agreed with a gentle nod of his head, and smiled in that boyish way that made your heart flutter.

Sounds fun, I’ll be there.  

It’s not like him to just leave you hanging. But when there’s no work emergency and everyone else is here, it’s hard not to take it personally. 

Your mind feels exhausted, steaming like a train running low on fuel, huffing its way to its final station, desperate to come up with more excuses. You’ve run out of them about two drinks ago.

You’re about to prepare your third, slumped against the kitchen island with a cutting board under you, when a quiet voice cuts through your haze.

“Not feelin’ the holiday spirit?”

You start at the interruption, the lime in your hand slipping from your fingers and tumbling away, rolling off the cutting board with a soft thump.

“Jesus, Barnes, give a girl a warning.”

You abandon your knife with a quiet sigh, eyes following the trail of red and green tinsel up Bucky’s arm as he steps in closer.

Lips twitching in something like amusement, he leans casually against the counter, gaze flicking pointedly toward your apartment entrance before drifting back to you.

“Noticed you’ve been staring at that door all night.”

The words hit you harder than you expect. You force a roll of your eyes, dismissing his observation with a shrug. But your fingers hesitate over the cutting board, the lime mocking you from its spot against the cool backsplash. 

“I’m not—” You cut yourself off, the words tasting too defensive.  

A heavier sigh slips from you when you reach for your glass instead.

“It’s just not like him, you know?” You mutter, swirling the last sip in your glass before downing it. Your lips come up sticky-sweet from the rim when you mumble, more to yourself than him.

“I mean, sure, he’s busy, but…” You trail off, meeting Bucky’s gaze to find that the teasing glint was gone, replaced with something softer, unreadable. The shift unsettles you, and your stomach twists.

“What?” The word comes out sharper than you intended.

He tilts his head, as if weighing his words, and the silence grows heavy—a non-answer wrapped in a knowing look. Brows furrowed, you wait, trying to decipher his hesitation. 

It’s another long beat before he sighs, lifting himself off the counter, and taps his fingers absently against the edge. 

His eyes dart to the side, glancing briefly over the room. “He… didn’t want me to tell anyone.” 

Your fingers tighten instinctively around the stem of your glass, teeth scraping over the remnants of sugar sticking to your bottom lip. 

“About what?”

He exhales sharply through his nose, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, Steve’s…” His gaze flicks to yours, softening, “He’s probably over at New York-Presbyterian.”

Your stomach drops, fingers slipping around the glass as you reach for the countertop. The train jolts back to life, racing faster than ever, the wheels screeching as each thought barrels forward, colliding with the next in a blur of frantic speed.

The hospital?Why, was he hurt?What happened?How had you not heard?

“No, no, he’s not—” Bucky cuts in quickly, raising a hand to stave off your growing panic. The wince on his face softens into a small, apologetic laugh,

“He’s fine. Just…volunteering for the kids. Does it every year.”  

You blink, the rush of thoughts screeching to a sudden halt.

“He’s…”

It takes all of two seconds for the realization to register, your body moving before your mind can catch up. The glass is abandoned on the counter as you scramble for the nearest coat, not caring whose it is, and rush for the door.

The pediatric ward offers a welcome reprieve from the usual maze of sterile corridors—paper snowflakes and crayon drawings adorning the walls, giant inflatable snowmen standing guard at the entrances to patient rooms. A small Christmas tree, twinkling with homemade ornaments and tinsel, stands next to the nurse’s station. 

Your desperate steps falter when you spot him in the corner of the ward, sat cross-legged over a rug in a makeshift play area, surrounded by a small circle of children. The Captain America outfit stands out amongst the sterile blues and whites—and it’s not the usual tactical gear he wears on covert missions, muted tones and coarse to the touch. 

No, its the spandex version of his uniform, that ridiculously colorful suit he’d worn to punch Hitler on stage every night. Soft patches of red, white, and blue that fit snugly around his shoulders, but hang a little loose over the rest of his frame.

He’s reading from a tiny children’s book, splayed open in one hand, while the other steadies a little boy in a hospital gown perched on top of his shoulders. The boy’s eyes are wide, glued to the page as Steve gently rocks him side to side.

You hesitate, pulse quickening, letting his soft, steady voice wash over you for a moment—a rhythmic murmur that envelops the quiet corner of the ward. 

It’s not until he finishes the book that he realizes you’re standing there.

Soft blue eyes crinkle at the edges when he frowns, starting to uncross his legs.

"Hey, uh… guys, new mission,” He’s still a little unsure when he sets the book down, gaze still on you. “…whoever can help me clean up the blocks gets to pick the next game, okay?” He clears his throat, smiling back at the eager group as they scramble off to the toy bins in the corner. He gently lowers the boy from his shoulders, letting the little one rush off to join the others. 

You move forward, feet shuffling against the soft foam padding of the floor. As Steve meets you halfway, you clutch the sleeves of your sweater tightly, heart hammering.

“Hi.” He breathes out, surprise still evident in the small dip between his brows, though it gives way to a gentle smile. 

“Hey.” Your words come out choked, something unmistakably tightening in your chest. 

“How did you…” His eyes flit down to the loud pattern on your sweater, then behind you at the clock. His gaze lingers there for a moment, eyes fluttering shut in disbelief. 

“Shoot. I’m sorry, I had no idea it got this late. I was going to—”

“—Steve.” Your voice cracks, thick and watery—frustration, sadness, guilt, longing, all tangled with a deep, aching incredulity. 

And goddamn it, why was the tip of your nose prickling?

You take another step toward him, now close enough to notice the tiny details of his uniform—the delicate lines of stitching, the faded patch of white over his chest. And as your eyes trail over the frayed seams, you can’t help but lift a hand, the tip of your index tracing a gentle line against the end of a loose thread, pressing it down and watching it pop back up. It’s all you can do to keep from collapsing into his arms, or punching him square in the chest. 

“It’s been sitting in my closet too long,” he murmurs, the low timbre vibrating against your palm, “Figured I’d take it out for a spin.”

Your eyes snap up, and the air that escapes your nose is somewhere between a snort and a desperate cry because you know you’re fucked. 

Utterly ruined by this ridiculous, stupid, dumb man standing in front of you. 

And when he tucks his bottom lip under his teeth, trapping the soft pink flesh in quiet hesitation, the spring finally snaps. 

Brows furrowed, he's halfway into offering some kind of reassurance—maybe another damn apology—when you rise on your tiptoes, yanking him down by the loose collar of his uniform.

And then it’s nothing but the heady sensation of his lips flush against yours, a little stiff but warm and alive just the same. His broad hands find their way to the small of your back, the pressure against your lips growing firmer as he bends down, pulling you in closer. You’re gripping his uniform so tight your knuckles have turned white, but you refuse to let go even when he pulls back, his breath warm and steady against your skin. 

His gaze is soft, searching, and you become acutely aware of the hot sting rising behind your eyes, the bruising grip on his collar the only thing holding you together. You wonder if he feels it too, the weight of so much time lost and longing unspoken, rushing to fill the space between you. 

Then he smiles—a quiet, unguarded thing that tugs at the corners of his lips and lights up his eyes.

And just like that, the weight in your chest slips away as if it was never there.

His gaze flits down to your lips, eyelids fluttering tenderly as he starts to lean back in, only to be stopped short by a ripple of delighted gasps from about three feet below.

“Look, look, they’re kissing!”  

“Steve is that your girrrlfriend?"

A gaggle of children ambushes you two—a surprise strike from all sides with no escape route. Squeals of joy pierce the air as tiny hands grasp at Steve’s uniform, tugging at his sleeves, pulling at his boot. It's a full-on siege, and you’re caught squarely in the middle. Steve looks back at you, brows raised in defeat.

“Oh my god, she’s toootally his girlfriend!”

“Cap-tain America sitting on a tree,” A loud chorus of singing erupts. “K-I-S-S-I-N—“

“Okay, okay, guys–“ He’s got the biggest, dumbest grin on his face when he raises a hand to try and quiet the noise, the other still resting on your waist. 

He’s blushing something fierce, redder than a Christmas stocking, and hell, if your cheeks aren’t warming up too. 

The nurse on duty eventually settles down the noise, gently ushering the children out of the play area and leading them to their rooms. You watch warily as the kids shuffle out, stuffed animals raised in the air as they wave goodbye.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt…”

“No, we should’ve wrapped up a while ago.” Steve smiles sheepishly, his cheeks flushed as he ruffles the back of his neck. “It’s late.”

“Right.”

Silence stretches between you, deafeningly loud without all the tiny agents crowding your space. 

He steps forward, hand still curled around his nape, and you resist the urge to kiss him again. 

“Do you… wanna grab some hot chocolate?”

You sit idly in the waiting area, observing the ease on Steve’s face as he chats with the nursing staff, thanking them before heading back toward you with two plastic cups in hand.

The seat beside you creaks under his weight, and you go to cradle the warmth in both hands with a quiet smile. Your eyes drift over to the lights wrapped around the Christmas tree near the nurse’s station, shining brightly—and with it, the familiar knot tightening in your chest.

“Every year, huh?”

“Yeah,” He nods in your periphery, “The kids seem to like it.”

Your lips quirk up in a sideways smile, “Yeah, I bet.”

A beat, then: “Did Bucky tell you?”

You nod, and his smile widens, his gaze dropping to the floor as his leg bounces ever so slightly. The shiny red of his boots gleams against the linoleum, as he taps once, twice.

“I’m sorry I missed the party.” 

You track the rhythm of the tree lights as they blink—on, off, alternating between bulbs then flashing all at once—and he’s still apologizing. 

“I was looking forward to going.”

“Steve, it’s…” you sigh, brows furrowing at the absurdity of his apology, only for a new ridiculous thought to take its place. You blink, then, nose crinkling in amusement as you swivel around in your seat. 

“Wait, were you, planning on showing up in that?”

He laughs, the sound breaking out so warm and easy. “That bad, huh?”

You gaze incredulously for a long, deliberate beat.

“You know what? I’m actually glad you didn’t come tonight. I mean, for your sake.”

Quiet laughter bubbles up in your chest, a smile tugging at your lips as you turn your gaze back forward. But in the silence that follows, a thread of bitterness winds its way back through your thoughts.

"You know," you murmur, eyes drifting to the neatly stacked parcels beneath the tree, "you’re always helping out, doing things for everyone else." A warm, fuzzy feeling hums low in your stomach—though you're not entirely sure if it’s from all the cocktails you’ve had tonight.

You sigh, your head lolling onto one shoulder as you turn to meet his gaze. 

“…does Santa ever get anything for Captain America?”

He blinks, a quiet tilt of his head followed by a slow, knowing smile.

“Well,” the chair creaks again when he leans back, stretching out his legs with a satisfied breath. “He did this year.” 

At the puzzled furrow of your brow, he shrugs, eyes dropping down to the narrow strip of linoleum between you two.

Then, a gentle tap of his ridiculous, shiny boot against your foot.

When your gaze snaps back to his, he’s wearing that same boyish grin again, wide and stupid and far too charming for its own good.

You can’t decide if it makes you want to shove him, or punch him, or kiss him—or maybe do all three just to get it out of your system—because yeah, you’re completely done for.

Utterly ruined in ways you never saw coming, and it’s all his fault.

And if he leans in for another kiss, and you let him pull you in with a shaky breath and a smile that feels like surrender—

Well, that’ll have to be between you, him, and the giant inflatable snowman keeping guard just two feet away. 

(It’s not until you’ve both finished your hot chocolate, and shared just as many kisses as laughs, that you glance down at your phone to notice Sam’s text: 

bird boy 1 hour ago

yo di u take my fcking coat??)

[disgustingtwitches]

A Rose in Harlem

Simon Riley is an enigma—a brooding, complex man with a shadowed past that he can’t escape. You’re just an ordinary person until he claws his way into your life and you can't help but give in to him. The only problem is that you try to keep things casual, while Simon's never been one to settle for that.

Long live the rose that grew from concrete, when no one else ever cared.

Masterlist

PART 3

(He longs to be) Close to you

***

You freeze, heart pounding, the moment shattered. Who the fuck is that? You think to yourself, panic creeping in. Another knock then a familiar, playful voice from the other side of the door.

“Bitch! I know you're home!”

“Oh my God. Ishta.”

You completely forgot about your little watch party with her. This can't be happening now. Of course it's happening right now.

“Hm, that a girlfriend I don't know about?”

Simon murmurs, nuzzling his face to your neck.

“You need to go.”

Your voice is low, urgent, but it only seems to amuse him. His hands wrap around your waist, pumping his hips upwards, rubbing himself against your soaked underwear.

“What, you're kicking me out? Just like that?”

He nips at your neck, making you yeep. He tightens his hold, long arms locking you in.

You tense, trying to wiggle from him but him and his stupidly defined arms aren't budging.

“I'm serious; you need to leave, now.”

You twist in his arms, your anxiety growing as Ishta's knocking gets louder. She's never been patient.

You can feel his lips curve into a smile.

“You're tense, should relax a bit.”

“Relax?! Oh my God, I'm gonna kill you.”

You snap in a hushed tone, yanking yourself free (well, more like he finally relents and lets you go). You tug your shorts up while he follows suit, much more leisurely than you. He quips while letting you drag him towards the fire escape,

“Can't believe I'm the other woman, thought I was special, angel.”

“You're not making this easy.”

“Mistresses rarely do.”

Simon smirks, while you pull him to the window. Ishta knocks again, louder this time.

“Stop jerking off, the ice cream is melting!”

Simon snickers and you push him through the window onto the fire escape. His large frame steps out, stretching out while he turns to you.

“What? No kiss goodbye?”

“Simon!”

He doesn't budge until you lean out the window, planting a quick, chaste kiss on his scared lips. His hand cups the back of your neck, practically shoving his tongue down your throat, before you wrench yourself away.

“Bye.”

The words come out harsher than you mean while you shut the window, watching him slip into his place, not trusting him to sneak back into yours.

Ishta's voice whines from behind your front door. You smooth out your clothes, pasting a sheepish, wide smile. You take a deep breath before opening your door.

“Hey girl! Sorry I-”

“Was jerking off thinking about your neighbor? I know girl. Get that nut in friend.”

She empties her tote, sets some wine bottles down and grabs two cups from the kitchen before bending to sit on the couch. You wince watching her try to sit where his bare ass was.

“Oh! No don't-”

She looks at you curiously, frozen mid-squat— your brain scrambling to find something remotely plausible.

“I spilled tuna juice there earlier.”

She narrows her eyes at you, searching your face. She must be satisfied with what she sees because she shrugs and moves to the other side.

“Can't smell fishy. Got a date later.”

She pops open a bottle, pouring a generous amount into each cup. You grab the one she offers and take a seat on the arm of the couch.

“A date, huh? Is it that finance guy from last month?”

She rolls her eyes, turning on the TV.

“Oh God, no. He was so fucking annoying, trust fund baby.”

You laugh a little, grateful for her not pressing you on the couch thing.

“So who's the lucky guy?”

She waves her hand vaguely, her attention already on the TV, looking for a show.

“Met him at the park. He was jogging—shirtless, obviously—and tripped over his own fucking shoelaces. Adorable. Total himbo vibes.”

You raise an eyebrow, smiling into your glass.

“Thought you liked nerds.”

“That's the thing,”

She turned to you, grinning like a fool.

“Ok so, we were talking about showers,”

“Naturally.”

“Naturally. Anyways, he starts going on about different hypotheses of 'the shower curtain effect' with this dumbass smile on his face. I'm trying not to stare at his tits and just ask him if he wants drinks before I start drooling. Obviously, he says yes, and here we are!”

She finishes her glass and helps herself to another. You lean closer to her.

“So what's the plan? Drinks, talk about nerdy shit, and then stumble into his place and ogle at his star wars figurines?”

“First off all,”

She raises a finger.

“He’s an artist, so get it right. And secondly, he's Scottish. So like, the accent makes everything hotter.”

You hum curiously.

“My apologies, I clearly underestimated his international flare.”

“You did. Also, you're welcome for letting you live vicariously through me, by the way.”

She flips her hair over her shoulder.

“Oh, oohh my goodness. Thank you for your graciousness.”

You say in mock appreciation, hand over your heart. Her eyes twinkle when she winks at you.

“Freely granted, my dear. I'll text you all the juicy details.”

“Lucky me.”

You say dryly, swirling your wine glass. Ishta lightly hits your knee.

“Look at us. You got your English guy, I got my Scottish one. Just gotta snatch up an Irish and Welsh one, and we've got a whole set!”

“Please be serious, girl. Also, he's not ‘my guy’, he's just a neighbor.”

“Uh-huh, keep telling yourself that. We'll see how long that lasts.”

***

You've been more moody lately. From Ishta unintentionally cock-blocking you, to work being particularly demanding, and finally, Simon terrorizing you relentlessly.

Ever since ‘the incident’ he's been on you like white on rice. He'll stop you in the mornings in the foyer and casually talk about how he came to the thought of you last night or stand behind you in the elevator and grind up against you, laxly apologizing.

“Sorry. It's just such a tight fit here, right angel?”

You silently thank God Simon has the sense to pull these stunts when no one else is around to witness his brand of debauchery (he doesn't, you just got lucky no one's there when he pulls that shit).

You're barely holding onto your patience. Every word he says, every deliberate touch grates on your nerves. He has you on edge, dangling by a thread. A simple nudge could send you tumbling— yet he never quite gives it. Instead, he leaves you like this, toeing the line.

Waiting. Waiting on you to make the jump.

It kind of surprises you, given the whole…incident. You expected him to follow you into your apartment one day and finally consummate whatever twisted, simmering thing you had going on. But he didn't. Seemed to enjoy making you squirm.

***

You could almost forget about him during the day. Almost. Work has been a circus lately, thanks to your boss—the museum curator who seems to thrive on chaos. She’s brilliant, yes, but she’s also impossible. Barking orders, demanding perfection, treating every missed detail like a personal betrayal. You spend your mornings running errands and your afternoons fielding phone calls from artists who need their egos stroked. The only moment of reprieve is when you’re in the gallery itself, away from the madness, the artwork pulling you into a quiet, timeless space.

But even that doesn’t last. Today, you spent hours installing a new piece—a massive, fragile sculpture—and as soon as it was in place, she decided it needed to be moved six inches to the left. Six inches. By the time you got home, your nerves were frayed, your patience long gone.

He’d been waiting in the lobby when you arrived, as if he knew you’d had a long day. His presence suffocating, his voice a low murmur in your ear as he stood too close, his hand brushing your hip when you reached for the elevator button.

“You look tense, angel.”

“Simon, please.”

“‘Please?’ Wow, must've been really bad today.”

He chuckles to himself, like he's so fucking funny.

You rub your eyes, the tired dryness a reminder of the day you'd had. He sees this as an invitation to step behind you and wrap his arms around you. Large frame towering over you, long arms sliding around you.

“Not in the mood for this today, Simon.”

You mutter, void of its usual bite.

You don't even have the energy to push him away when he plants a kiss on the side of your neck, softer than the last time his lips touched your skin.

“So sweet when you're tired out. Wonder if you're like this after-”

The elevator dings and you pull away, pushing his head off your shoulder and trudging to your place. At this point, you're too drained to care about his games, too tired to rise to the bait.

If he wasn't going to stop playing, wasn't going to do anything but pussyfoot around, you had better things to do—like collapse on your bed and sleep for 12 hours straight.

You reach your door and fumble with your keys, cursing under your breath when they decide now is the perfect time to be elusive in your bag.

“Need help?”

You don’t jump. You’re too used to that voice coming from behind you, low and amused. His words echo in your head more than you’d like to admit these days.

“No.”

You say, sharp enough to bite through the air as you finally fish the keys out and shove one into the lock.

It sticks. Of course, it sticks.

He says something you ignore while he leans against the side of the doorframe, watching you struggle. Your head lands on the door with a soft thud, forehead pressing against the cool metal.

“You’ve been quiet tonight. Not like you to let me have the last word.”

“I’m too tired for this.”

“For what?”

“For your bullshit.”

You spit, jiggling the key rougher than necessary.

Simon hums, entertained.

“There she is. Was worried I lost you for a minute.”

The key refuses to turn. Between him looking over your shoulder and the fucking door mocking you, your patience starts to shred, gossamer-thin.

When the door finally opens, you turn to him.

“Do you ever shut up?”

He shrugs.

“Not when I’m having this much fun.”

“You call this fun?”

“Watching you fight with a door? Yeah, a little bit. Had my money on the door though, unfortunately.”

You swear his grin is almost audible under that mask.

Your eyes narrow, heated.

“Don't you have somewhere else to be?”

He doesn't miss a beat.

“No, actually. Not tonight.”

“Of course not, when do you ever?”

You mutter, yanking your keys out of the lock.

“Just keeping the schedule free for you, love.”

“Free to annoy me?”

“Something like that.”

Your eyes drift from his face down to his arms crossed over his chest. His compression shirt doesn't help, the material stretching in a way that feels obscene.

Then while he watches you stare, he flexes subtly.

It pulls a laugh out of you, the sound slipping out before you can help it,

“Whore.”

He pulls his mask down, showing off his own smile. His canines sharp and slightly crooked, but somehow it makes him more attractive. Like he doesn't just accept his imperfections, but wears them proudly, fully aware of their charm.

“Just for you, angel.”

“Your persistence is coming off pathetic.”

You huff half-hearted, crossing your arms.

“Doesn't seem to bother you much.”

Simon goads. You think this is the happiest you've ever seen him.

“It does.”

You lick your teeth, feigning irritation. He mirrors the movement, finishing it off with a smile that makes your face hot.

“Go on then,”

His voice drops lower, thick and languid, molasses poured slow on a hot day.

“Tell me how you really feel.”

It's quiet for a moment. He tilts his head, eyes glinting and the edge you've been teetering on crumbles underneath you, all reservations and restraint gone. You grip the strings of his hoodie and pull him down to your face.

“You're insufferable.”

“Yes.”

“A tease.”

“Mhm.”

“Worst neighbor I've ever had.”

“Ouch.”

He says, though his tone is anything but wounded. If anything, it sounds downright gleeful.

“Makes me wanna do awful things to you.”

You say in a hushed tone, a newfound energy pumping through your veins. The space between you grows smaller as you tug him even closer, his hands instinctively finding your waist, steadying both of you.

“Yeah,”

His voice is low, molten. A scorching heat that flows from his mouth down your chest and stomach.

“Probably use those pretty little hands, leave marks. Bruises I'd feel every time I breathe.”

You twirl the strings around your fingers, leading him into your place. It feels like tugging on a leash tied to a dangerous dog— wild and unpredictable, tethered to you and you only. He catches the door before it slams shut, closing it without looking, dark eyes honed in on you. Makes your stomach do flips.

“You'd like that, wouldn't you?”

His silence is answer enough, a smirk playing on his face. You muse, shoving him toward the couch with a playful push,

“Maybe I'd keep it simple, knife to the heart. If I could find it.”

He spreads out on the cushions, pulling you to him, making you straddle one of his thick thighs.

“Sounds painful, tell me more.”

“Maybe I'd tie you up. Make you beg for your life.”

When you say that, he groans— an honest-to-god groan and his grip on your hips tightens.

“It’d be hard, getting through all that muscle and bone,”

He grabs your wrist, making you press two fingers on the hard, fast pulse right under his jaw.

“Be quicker and easier to hit it right here. Faster way to go out.”

You cock your head to the side, biting back a moan feeling the beat of the vein under his skin go impossibly fast when you hum.

“Think I'm gonna go easy on you?”

His response is instant, almost desperate if you thought he was capable of that emotion.

“I hope to God not.”

He wraps himself around you, pressing you up against his solid frame like he's trying to meld his body to yours.

***

He's been at this for long, too long. He hasn't even taken off either of your pants, all too happy to have you grinding your pants against his denim. It's got you so pent up, you're half crazed, panting in the crook of his neck and mumbling pleas for relief.

“Want you, Simon.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He shakes his head and you groan in frustration.

“Been a real brat lately, can't reward that kind of behavior.”

“Pleasepleaseplease-”

“Sound so pretty, begging for me.”

You're trying anything at this point. Anything but ripping his clothes off. Or yours.

“Don't you wanna feel good too?”

Your tone is so dulcet, it's almost too sweet in your mouth, words dripping with a carefully calculated innocence. You play with the waistband of his jeans, before you can get too far he takes hold of your wrist.

“I know what you're trying to do.”

There's a pause while you pull back to look at him, a sheepish smile on your face.

“Is it working?”

“Hmm…”

“Simon!”

You huff, almost whiny. He relents, only a little, bouncing you on his thigh once before forcing your hips to grind down harder on him. It makes you lean into him again, he presses a soft kiss on your temple, the kind of gesture that feels almost like he's mocking you with a false sense of soothing. As if he feels bad for you—his touch gentle but somehow condescending.

“Poor thing, could've gotten it sooner if you wanted to. Closed mouths don't get fed, you know?”

He sounds amused, lips still brushing against your temple. Your mouth finds its way to his neck, he lulls his head back, giving you more access to it. It's sweet, tender, starting at his collarbone and moving up slowly until you get to the artery he made you press up against earlier. The moment your teeth press up against it, he comes undone.

“Gaggin’ for it that bad?”

The sound of his belt clicking makes you downright giddy, you lick his neck, feeling his heartbeat under your tongue.

“Mhm…”

He grabs your hand to shove it down his pants and your brain goes static for a moment.

“Had me waiting all this time, and now you want it?”

It's growled into your ear, something about the way it's almost spat out, mean—it sends jolts of electricity between your legs.

“C'mon, show me how much you missed it.”

Your face heats up at his words and he lets out an entertained huff.

“He missed you too, ya know.”

A breathless giggle escapes you when he flexes, making his dick jump in your hands. You pull him out of his pants, eyes going wide. You've felt how big he was before, but seeing it was a whole different thing. Made it all real. Something about the way his pink tip peeked out made you laugh a little, a fleeting thought of him blushing everywhere, even on his dick.

“What?”

He furrows his brows a little, curious.

The truth tumbles out of you before you can stop it. You think you've made a mistake until you see him. His face is unreadable at first, and you brace for some sharp quip or a look of annoyance.

But instead, Simon’s reaction is… different. His ears go pink first, followed by a deep flush creeping up his neck. You want to laugh again but he creeps a hand up your spine to the back of your neck, guiding you into light kisses. You still manage to slip out a few giggles in-between, a smile creeping up across his face. It's such a warm moment, you almost forget about holding him until he twitches in your hands.

“Got the prettiest laugh.”

“Is there anything that you don't think is pretty about me?”

You ask, teasing him.

“No.”

His answer is quick, unwavering, and so serious that it makes your breath catch. You search his face, expecting the usual smirk or a sly remark, but there’s nothing there but honesty. He clears his throat, the faintest flicker of vulnerability flashing in his eyes before he tries to mask it.

“Right, let's get these off.”

He guides you off him so you can stand, he shimmies your pants and underwear off. Once you kick off the fabric pooled around your feet he leans forward, breath hot on your mons.

“Missed her.”

He says so quietly, almost to himself.

“Your pretty girl?”

You run a hand over his buzz cut, and he grips the sides of your bare thighs.

“Yeah…my pretty girl.”

A wet kiss on your most sensitive spot makes your legs tense up. He traces slow, indulgent circles, like this was more for him than you. The tension in your body mounting with every flick of his tongue.

He goes on like this until your knees almost give way from a quick, hard suck. He holds you up with a strong grip under the crease of your ass.

“Think you can stand on your own for a minute, love?”

You’re far past the point of throwing a smart remark his way, your body humming with the tension he’s left simmering under your skin. Instead, you nod quickly, eagerly.

“So good for me, angel. How'd I get so lucky, hm?”

It’s less a question and more an indulgence, the kind of thing he says to soak in the moment while he shoves his pants down to his thighs. When he pulls you towards him, guiding you to settle on his lap, just brushing his tip over your slick entrance, you follow without hesitation—soft, pliant, docile.

“Such a sweet thing. Only for me, right?”

Before you get to answer, he drags your hips down, pushing himself inside you. The stretch borders on discomfort—not just because it's been a while, but because he's thicker than anyone you've ever had before.

It's all so overwhelming— his voice, his touch, his body—all glut and heavy with want. The weight of it crashes over you, leaving you dizzy, untethered. Every word he speaks seeps into your skin, warm and lingering, while his hands, firm yet reverent, treat you like something both fragile and fiercely desired.

When he slides you down more, you tense up. Thighs flexing, clenching around him. It draws a curse from him,

“Fuck…yeah, only for me.”

The moment is so much softer than you imagined it to be—aside from him trying to lick the inside of your mouth. It's coos and words of encouragement,

“Look at you, taking it like a big girl,”

“Bet you needed this as much as I did,”

Big, rough hands gliding up and down your body, squeezing gently. Slow, deep strokes sink into you until you're a shaking mess, arms wrapped around him, clinging onto him like he's your lifeline, mumbling nonsense into his neck. He's taking full advantage of the moment, of course, his voice low and dripping with amusement as he watches you come undone for him.

"Gonna be like this all the time now, pet?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Only like this for me, yeah?”

“Mhm.”

You whisper, the words spilling out as easily as your control.

“No one else gets to touch you like this, huh?”

“Uhn-uh.”

Your lips brushing against his neck, your heartbeat hammering against his chest, sweat slick against the skin.

And it goes on like this, making empty promises with the devil. Signing yourself away with no hesitation, no second thoughts. Because he kisses you so tenderly it makes you flutter everywhere. Because the way he lifts you up just to buck his hips up into you makes your brain leak out of your ears. Because here, pressed against him, drowning in his voice and touch, there's nowhere else you'd rather be.

He hits that spot that makes your nerves taught. You're a string wound up too tight, his name spilling from your mouth again and again, each time more ragged, a little more whiny and desperate, until it finally snaps. You shatter, the force knocking the air from your lungs while he throws his head back, your name leaking out like it's the only word he knows. You're overstimulated, thighs burning and shaking while he ruts into you. You're pushing him with flimsy arms, whining about how ‘it's too much’. That only seems to egg him on, though, spurring him to murmur filth between honeyed kisses,

“Gonna ruin you for anyone else,”

“Split you apart everyday and you'll fucking thank me for it, won't you?”

He doesn't even look for an answer from you, more than happy to bask in the mess he made of you. A few more strokes has him choking mid-sentence, sinking so deep inside you think he might've been serious about splitting you apart.

It's quiet for a moment, save for the heavy breaths shared between the two of you

“You with me, angel?”

He sighs, his lips press against the skin right over your heart. He lingers, sucking softly, the kind of pressure that's going to leave the skin tender for days—a reminder of him.

You nod, barely able to find your voice, but he waits-patient, his hands wrapping around yours.

"Yeah…”

You finally manage, squeezing a hand that completely engulfs yours, brushing against it with your thumb.

"Good,"

He whispers, his lips brushing against yours again.

"That's all I need.”

And in the back of your mind, as his touch lingers, there's a small fleeting thought:

Oh, you're fucked.

prev |

[dahlibae]

MOMMYS SMART GIRL.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

(wanda maximoff x fem!reader)

summary | you finally graduated, finally a real adult, but you’ll always be wanda’s little girl.

warning(s) — blurb: age gap couple, smut, fingering(r!receiving), cunnilingus(r!receiving), tribbing, overstimulation, nipple suckling, mommy wanda, reader experience lil sub drop, aftercare! (18+)

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

“You’re such a pretty little baby.” Wanda praised, her fingers sinking deep inside you as your body rocked back and forth against the soft sheets below.

Today had been a very special day for you both. You had finally graduated college, a milestone that had felt so far away when you first walked onto campus, uncertain of what the future would hold. But here you were, already stepping into the next chapter with a corporate job lined up in the city. You couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment, of all the hard work that had led you to this moment.

But as much as this day was about you, it was also about Wanda. She had been your constant, your anchor, since freshman year. When you met, neither of you could have known the journey you’d embark on together. From late-night study sessions in her home office to early morning coffee runs, she had been by your side. She'd supported you through every breakdown, every tear-streaked face as you questioned your worth, your place in the world. And somehow, she always knew exactly what to say to pull you back from the edge.

Through every stressful exam, every late-night cram session, she had been there, not just as a girlfriend, but as your best friend. She knew your weaknesses and loved you anyway. She was your strength when you felt weak and your safe space when the world outside felt too big and too overwhelming. You could still remember the way she held you the night before your biggest presentation, whispering sweetest words of encouragement when you doubted yourself.

She always believed in you, even when you didn’t believe in yourself.

“Such a smart girl. Been so good all year, haven’t you? I’m so proud of you.” She cooed, as she curled her fingers, expertly brushing your walls with a soft pressure she knew you loved. “But you don’t have to use your brain now, okay? Let Mommy take care of you.”

“Mhmm.” You managed to reply, your mind immediately emptied from her soothing words.

“Good girl.” She emphasised with one last kiss to your lips, before trailing down your body to your hips. There, she gently nipped your protruding bones before making her way to your thighs, biting and licking her way up to between your legs. She leaned down; a long, slow lick up your slit, her tongue pushed flat against your clit, as she circled your bundle of nerves.

The added stimulation was almost too much. Your head became even more fuzzy as you whined and twisted in each direction. Unsure of whether you wanted to escape her touch or draw her in closer. You reached down and grabbed her blonde curls, deciding you needed her closer, needed to finish, as you rocked your hips in into her mouth.

It took Wanda all but 3 seconds to recognise your slight tug and she released your clit, climbing back up your body, “What is it, baby? You don’t wanna cum?”

You replied, “Yes, Mommy. Just want you close.”

She should’ve known, whenever you were so deep in this headspace, you had always wanted to feel Wanda close. Restraints hadn’t worked out for you both the first time, leaving you vigorously upset being denied the chance to feel her close as you came.

She hadn’t moved quick enough and you started to whine before she cut you off, “Okay, baby. I’m right here.” She pressed herself over you, before deciding she wanted to come aswell. She moved your legs into position, spread far apart for her body to fit between, before pressing herself down against you. She tested the new position with a few rocks of her hips that had you head thrown back, mewling abashedly into her hair.

“Oh, does that feel good, baby?”

Your response was another moan.

She rocked her hips harder, feeling herself build at the feeling of your clit brushing against hers. The sight of your breasts bouncing as she thrusted into you turned her on even more, her arousal building dangerously fast. She knew she couldn’t be too hard—too rough— with you right now. And so, she slowed, and held you in her arms, tucking her head into your neck as she whispered sweet nothings, “You’re gonna make me cum. You feel so good, baby. You wanna cum with Mommy?”

She felt your hip snap up to hers, chasing the feeling as you began to fall over the edge, and she revelled in the way you curled into her form. She pulled back for a second just enough to be able to fit her hand between as she pressed hard circles against your clit, drawing out your orgasm enough until the pleasure became painful. Your body trembled as you sobbed carelessly into her curls. She was on you again, thrusting fast against your pussy. Her arousal now at its peak, and she too fell over the edge. Her own moans released into your curls.

Her movement slowed but didn’t stop and the overstimulation caused you to cry out. She shushed you gently, stroking your cheek gently as she got off of you, and pulled you into her chest. “Good girl. You did so well, my love.”

You fisted at your eyes, the warm tears burning against your skin.

“You know Mommy loves you, right?” She pulled you closer in, her bare breast flush against your cheek as she offered you one to suckle on, while her fingers wiping the remnants of your tears before pressing light kisses to your face.

You hummed in agreement. Your brain still unable to form proper words and also your mouth now busy attached to her nipple. But your eyes fluttered shut, suddenly not feeling so intense and emotional anymore. The calm buzz that usually followed after sex with Wanda finally set in.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

[m00nl1ghts1vt]

♡‧₊˚ Sweetheart!Reader x Babydaddy!Chris - Gender Reveal ˚₊‧♡

Gender Predictions

The sound of intermixing conversations flowed around the room, family and friends filled each seat at the dining table, all mingling as they finished the last of their dinner. Mary Lou and Jim were too excited for their first grandbaby’s arrival, so they jumped at the chance to host your gender reveal at their house, making sure to have everything put together for the special moment. Of course, they wanted to be surprised with the gender of your baby just like everyone else, so they left the cake decorating up to a local bakery. It was a small group that attended your reveal, less than fifteen people. 

Keeping your pregnancy a secret from the world had been hard the last few months, but you didn’t want your child around any negativity. The internet was a crazy place and neither of you wanted your child to fall victim to that. Since you and Chris were keeping things private, you two agreed to only tell the people you weren’t able to hide it from. 

After everyone finishes their dinner, some leave their plates half finished due to the anticipation boiling in their guts much like it did yours and Chris’. You smooth a hand over your bump, looking to your left to see your mom with a kool aid like smile stretched across her face, “excited, sweetie?” You give her a small, toothless smile, “nervous,” you tell her. You hadn’t been able to shake the feeling all week. Knowing you were about to find out the gender of your baby had your mind spinning and your brain thumping. Your uneasy comment gains Chris’s attention, he looks over at you and places a hand on your thigh, making you turn towards him, “don’t be,” he reassures you once your eyes meet his. 

“If everyone would quiet down, Y/n and Chris are ready to cut their cake,” Mary Lou announces to the party guests. The room falls silent as you and Chris stand at the head of the table, a white heart shaped cake was placed in front of you, the white icing piped the words “It’s a ….” in cursive across the top of it. Each family member and friend watched, smiles and looks of anticipation plastered on their faces, a few with phones in their hands ready to capture the special moment. Butterflies dance around in your stomach and your heart hammers in your chest as Chris hands you a matching wine glass, “ready, baby?”

Your mind runs wild, not letting you push out a reply, instead you press your lips together and nod your head at him. Chris gives you a reassuring smile, rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand, your fingers being intertwined the whole time. “Okay, you guys count us down,” he tells the room full of people. The two of you line your glasses side by side along the edge of the cake, looking the opposite way as the both of you press down, cutting thru each layer of classic white cake and mystery icing. Once you can’t push the wine glass down anymore, indicating you were thru all the layers of the beautifully decorated cake, the room starts to count down, “three… two… one!”

You and Chris spin around in unison, both of you lifting your long-stemmed wine glasses at the same to reveal a white and blue striped pattern. You slap a hand over your mouth out of pure shock as everyone seated around the table cheers along with Chris, “I fucking knew it, I'm having a son!” he shouts out, happiness and excitement laced thru his voice as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you in for a bear hug. Chris squeezes you tight, gently swaying on his feet, rocking the both of you side to side in the process. “A boy!” he exclaims once again before pressing a sloppy kiss to your forehead and placing a hand on your growing bump. You couldn’t help but let a bright smile make its way across your lips, “a boy,” you repeat. Your brain runs rampant at the thought of having a mini Chris running around. If your son was anything like his dad, you knew your heart would melt the day you finally met him, much like it did when you met Chris for the first time. Each day made your pregnancy less surreal for you, your gender reveal being one of the most memorable. You were surrounded by so much love and there was no doubt that once your son was here everything would be complete. He would always feel the same love you felt that day, he’d always be surrounded by people who would do anything for him. Knowing your baby would be taken care of and loved in the place of your absence made tears brim your eyes. You weren’t sure if it was the pregnancy hormones or if you felt that deeply about the people who attended and put your gender reveal together. One thing you could confirm, though - this was the day of your pregnancy by far.

Wc - 851

An - I made this as blurb because I have a fic for them coming soon! Sorry for everyone who wanted a girl 🫣 I feel like every dad!Matt or dad!Chris fic I read, they have daughters. Nothing wrong with that, I love and find so much inspo from other writers babydaddy fics. I just wanted a bit of a change! Don't worry, Mary Lou will get her granddaughter one day 🥹🫶🏻 Anyways, I hope everyone likes it! (sorry I just love this divider sm. I can't stop using it lol)

Babydaddy!Chris Masterlist

Masterlist of all of my works

Ask me questions or give me suggestions about babydaddy!Chris & sweetheart!Reader!

🏷️ - @lvrsturniolo @ribread03 @unknvhx @m11rx @loveparqdise @sweetshuga @emely9274 @frickin-bats @katie-tibo @leila-marie4 @delusional-4-fake-people @shadowthesim @immy08 @trevorsgodmother @watercolorskyy @thepubeburgler @courta13 (went back thru all my works and readded a few tags, sorry tumblr wasn't letting me tag half of my taglist for some reason??)

© All Rights Reserved to m00nl1ghts1vt. Please do not copy my work.

Photo edits and dividers are mine. Feel free to use.

[nightplvmes]

*.⊹˚ ZAYNE | christmas eve (christmas special)

── ◜zayne x fem!reader — mini one shot 1.1k words ◜Zayne has to work on Christmas, so she decides to surprise him with their little Christmas dinner. — author's note here | christmas specials from the rest of the LI on my profile

She hated that Zayne worked so much without resting, but if there was one thing she hated more than that, it was he had to work on Christmas Eve. It was her first Christmas with a boyfriend and her boyfriend had to work.

According to Zayne, those days were actually pretty busy. People were slipping off the roofs while putting up decorations or having accidents while making dinner. She didn't say anything when Zayne told her he had to work, she should actually be proud that her boyfriend is saving lives! But while her boyfriend was saving lives, she was home alone… a little sad. She had actually lied to Zayne, saying she had plans with her friends because didn't want him to worry about her.

She had to do something, mainly because she didn't want her boyfriend to spend Christmas Eve alone in a hospital room… That's why almost two hours later she found herself leaving her apartment, a small bag at her side as she got into her car.

The ride to the hospital was smooth and quick, she expected there to be more cars on the streets, but it was the opposite. She confirmed her suspicions when she passed by the waiting room later: there were barely three people. She knew the reason Zayne was there that day was as a precaution, but why couldn't they just ask another doctor to stay? She was being selfish perhaps.

"Zayne?" She knocked on his office door, looked over her shoulder but the hallway was completely empty. She had passed the surgery board on her way there and Zayne's name wasn't there. Maybe he was with another patie…

The door in front of her opened. Her face lit up as she saw her boyfriend with his brow slightly furrowed in confusion. "What are you doing here?" he asked with that softness in his voice he always used with her.

"I brought Christmas dinner." She smiled lifting the small bag in her hands, Zayne let her in seconds later, still a little confused.

"I thought you had plans with your friends."

"Yeah, well… I lied." She smiled shyly, not wanting him to get upset with her even though Zayne seemed to lose his patience… never. "I thought we could have dinner together."

Zayne was silent for several seconds. He knew his girlfriend had preferred not to mention anything and let him work, she did that all the time lately, but she was here anyway. She had cooked something for both of them and now she was here, giving up any last-minute plans she might have made to spend time with him on Christmas.

"You didn't have to do that." Zayne approached her, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend. She smiled slightly and shook her head, not wanting him to feel guilty.

"I don't mind. Let's eat." She placed one last kiss on his cheek before turning to start unpacking the food she had made for them.

She didn't mind the fact that she had to be there. After all, it was Christmas Eve, they could spend the day together tomorrow, right?

★

Over an hour later, she plopped down into the chair in front of Zayne's desk. She felt like she had eaten too much and now she couldn't move.

"Mmm… I think I'll take a nap on your couch" she whined, shifting in her seat. Zayne smiled at his girlfriend's exaggeration.

He glanced at the watch on his wrist, he knew she hadn't noticed but it was almost midnight. He knew she wasn't the biggest fan of Christmas but at least it was important enough as anyone else.

Zayne's hand slid down to one of his desk drawers to pull out the small box he had been hiding for almost two weeks. His girlfriend was too focused on complaining to notice. He hid it in one of his pants pockets and continued acting normally, clearing his throat to get her attention and getting up from his chair.

"Come on, it's almost midnight." She stood up quickly at his words and looked around for a clock. She hadn't even noticed the time, she only knew that her stomach was starting to hurt a little.

"Where are we going?" She asked, reaching over to grab her jacket. Maybe it had been a bad idea to wear such a thin jacket.

"Let's go to the roof," he murmured, wrapping one of his arms around her waist. He knew how much his girlfriend loved the snow and he didn't want midnight to arrive locked in the four walls of his office where she spent most of her lunch breaks anyway.

Five minutes later she felt the cold air hit her face, she had to narrowed her eyes. Zayne took one of her hands and directed her close to the edge, causing snowflakes to begin shower her hair.

She smiled excitedly. She loved the snow and even though she was sure she would start shivering in a couple of minutes, she loved the feeling of the cold against her face and the snowflakes in her hair.

"What time is it?" She asked turning to face Zayne and looked at the watch on his wrist once more.

"11:59."

She smiled excitedly. Her hand slipped into her jacket pocket to pull out a small mistletoe she had brought from home. She had almost forgotten it was there.

She smiled as she tried to stand on her tiptoes to put the mistletoe under both of their heads, but Zayne was quite a bit taller than her so she could barely do it. Zayne smiled when he noticed what his girlfriend was doing, he didn't need an excuse to kiss her anyway.

"Where did you get that?"

"I brought it from home." She shrugged. "Now you have to kiss me." She didn't have to tell him twice.

His arms wrapped around her gently, closing the small distance between them. She had suddenly forgotten all about the cold she had felt when they had reached the rooftop.

Zayne pressed his lips to hers without thinking, He deepened the kiss, holding her more closely to his body. He took the time to enjoy the warmth of his girlfriend, the way she let him explore her mouth… As if they had all the time in the world.

A loud bang in the distance separated them. She frowned, somewhat confused, she was expecting fireworks on New Year's but certainly not on Christmas. Bright colors flooded the sky for a few seconds before fading away. It was Christmas.

She turned excitedly, her nose had turned red due to the cold and her hair was now covered in snowflakes. The most adorable picture Zayne had ever seen.

"Merry Christmas, Dr. Zayne."

"Merry Christmas, my love."

[marauder-misprint]

Trust Fund

Sirius Black x Pettigrew!reader

5.7k words

cw: post-hogwarts, swearing, snogging, fluff

Being two years older than Peter, you did your best to not cross paths with him during the five years you shared at Hogwarts. You love your brother. That wasn’t why. You had just hoped that he would make his own path without being seen as your little brother, and he did. You didn’t pay attention to his friends either; you knew they were such a tight knit group that they were still living together now, after Hogwarts. Would you recognize any of them if you saw them out on the street? Probably not. 

You frequented a wizarding club near your apartment that you shared with one of your friends from Hogwarts, Marie. She never came with you, opting to spend time with her boyfriend rather than a room full of sweaty people drinking and dancing. Her loss. 

You usually left the club alone, despite the many times you’d be dancing with someone all night. Because you were such a regular, the bartenders and security guards all knew you, and they knew when you looked ever so slightly uncomfortable and when to step in. Without talking, they could tell when you were done with a person and they’d make sure you were okay when you were leaving. So, you always made it home safe to wake up slightly hungover in your own bed. 

You expect tonight to go no different. You don a simple skater dress; you like the way the skirt would flare as you spin while dancing. Add heels, makeup and jewelry and you’re ready to go. Marie is already gone off to her boyfriend’s by the time you leave. It’s a short enough walk to the club. You tap your wand on the graffiti door in an alley. It solidifies and you’re able to enter. The security guard just nods at you as you pass by some girls who look far too young to be there.

“Hey, why aren’t you asking her for ID?” one of the girls complains.

The guard glares at her and she slinks to the back of her group. You laugh to yourself. You didn’t mind the special treatment you were given as thanks for being a regular. As you step through the second set of doors, you’re greeted with colorful, flashing lights, a thin fog of artificial smoke and the smell of alcohol, sweat and a sweet perfume that you know is misted around intermittently to counteract the sweat. 

You wave to the bartender and he starts to make your usual drink. By the time you’ve moved through the small crowd between you and the bar, your drink is ready for you. You exchange your wand for your drink, as collateral to make sure you pay your tab at the end of the night. You lean against the bar, sipping your drink as you gaze around the club. Music is playing loudly, drowning out any conversation around you. You know you’ll need at least one more drink before you take the floor. Not too many people are here yet and you need more artificial confidence if you’re going to dance on a non-packed dance floor. 

Then the  bartender slides you a drink just as you finish the one in your hand.

“Oh, I didn’t ask for another one yet,” you say.

He leans forward across the bar. “It’s from the gentleman at the end, the one with the curly hair. Taking care of your tab tonight.”

You raise your eyebrows at the bartender after looking where he had briefly gestured. 

“Then, I guess I don’t mind if I do…” you say, picking up the glass and taking a sip. 

You know the guy is watching you, waiting. After a second sip, you abandon your spot to approach him. As you get closer, you see he’s wearing ripped jeans and a black t-shirt that looked like it once had a design or logo on it at one point but had faded away over time. Even closer, you notice the silver jewelry, on his hands, around his neck and in his ears. Damn, he’s attractive.

“So, Trust Fund, fancy a dance?” you ask before taking a sip of the drink he was paying for.

He cocks an eyebrow at you with a wide grin.

“I’d love one.”

You hold out your free hand for him to take so you can lead him out to the floor. It doesn’t take long for the guy to become touchy, but it’s a good touchy. His chest is pressed firmly into your back with his hands on your waist. His cologne breaks through perfumed air and perpetual smell of sweat. You welcome that. As you continue to dance together, his hands wander, down to your hips, back up to your waist, to your stomach and high, to your thighs. You can feel his breath on your neck. He is so close. 

More songs play and you dance face-to-face as well. He’s just as close for that, his hands resting on your arse. Smiles adorn both your faces. You’re so caught up in his grey eyes, which he is unable to take off of you. You feel oblivious to the rest of the club, but it’s not your fault. He’s just so enchanting, so enthralling.

After a few more drinks, a mix of alcohol and water to pace yourself, you excuse yourself for the loo.

“You, my handsome Trust Fund, better still be here when I get back.”

“How ‘bout I get us another round? Meet you here?”

You nod. And he is waiting for you when you return, two drinks in hand as promised. You’re feeling emboldened. You take the drink he’s holding out for you and you slam it. He watches you with wild eyes. He’s enraptured with you. Then he mirrors your action, slamming his own drink. You take his cup and place both of them on a nearby table. Then you grab his shirt and pull him close to you. It’s the kind of action that makes your intentions obvious, and he obliges, bringing your faces ever closer together until lips meet. He tastes of the alcohol he’s been drinking and faintly of cigarettes. It’s anything but gentle and sweet. It’s hungry and fueled by desire. It doesn’t take long for you to be pushed against the wall, his tongue basically down your throat. You had one arm wrapped around his waist and the other hand tangled in his hair. His were groping your arse and holding your hips in place. 

You’re not sure how long you’ve been attached to his face, but you break apart when someone near you says, “Get a room.”

You both laugh, resting foreheads against each other.

“My roommate isn’t home tonight,” you breathe. 

“Yeah?” 

You nod. Suddenly, you’re wearing matching grins. He throws an arm around your shoulder and leads you back to the bar, where he exchanges a small pile of galleons for your wands. You give the employees a sly smile, a silent “I’m okay.” The cool air of the night hits you with a wave of sobriety. The man next to you is still stunningly beautiful, which makes you smile to yourself. 

“You live ‘round here?” he asks, looking down at you.

“Yeah, just a few blocks. What about you, Trust Fund?”

“Same. Not too far.”

You turn in the direction of home, his body following your movements. Every once in a while, he presses a gentle kiss into your hairline. The sweet action makes your heart flutter. You know bringing him back to your flat is a signal for certain activities, but the affection he shows you on the way makes you wonder what will become of this. 

“This is my building,” you say once you’ve arrived.

He takes a moment to look at the street sign and building name. You’re not sure if he’s judging it or trying to memorize it.

“Okay, yeah, I know where we are,” he says after a moment. “I’m a bit that way.” He points diagonally backwards. “Would’ve been funny if we were in the same building though.”

“Well, we’re in the same building tonight,” you tell him, opening the front door and holding it open for him.

He follows you up a few flights of stairs and down the hallway to your door. The way he’s looking around, you think he’s counting each flight, each door you pass, so that if he had to come back without your help, he’d be able to.

“Trust Fund, you want tea?” you offer as soon as you lock the flat’s door behind you.

“Why’re you calling me that, huh?”

“What? Trust Fund?” you reply with a giggle.

He nods, tracing his hands up and down your arms as you stand in your kitchen. 

“Instead of buying me a singular drink, you picked up my whole tab before even seeing if I was interested.”

He hums. “Bartender said you’re there often. Maybe I figured your bank account could use a break.”

“You asked Craig about me?” you tease.

“Craig?” he laugh and runs a hand through his hair. “Of course you’re on a first name basis with the bartender. You’re there often.”

“And I do drink within my means. My bank account is just fine, thank you very much.”

“So you never… go a little crazy?”

You give him a sweet smile and tuck a curl behind his ear.

“I don’t need alcohol to go crazy.”

He gives you an amused smirk before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Yes, tea would be lovely.”

Quiet conversation flows naturally over your cups of tea. When the cups are empty, you place them in the sink. You feel his eyes watching you, as if taking your movements around your domicile. You begin to head to your room, but when you turn around, he’s still standing in your kitchen.

“Trust Fund, you coming? you ask suggestively.

He breaks out of whatever thought was holding him captive in his own head. He nods, a wide grin immediately appearing. He follows you into your room and closes the door behind you. Sure, your roommate wasn’t home now, but she came home early, there were things she didn’t need to see. 

---

You wake up to an empty bed. Part of you wonders if maybe you’d had too much to drink last night and the beautiful man you’d brought home was all a dream. That is, until you actually get up. Marie is in the kitchen, sipping a cup of tea. She smiles with a wicked glint in her eyes when she sees you. 

“I see you had fun last night.”

Your hand immediately snaps to your neck. If you had love bites on your neck, then he wasn’t a dream. 

She laughs loudly. “I wasn’t talking about that! Check the fridge.”

You see a note placed under one of the magnets. 

‘Text me sometime -Trust Fund <3’ with his number underneath.

“Trust Fund?” Marie asks after you smile at the note.

“This guy, absolutely stunning by the way, starts off with handling my entire tab before even saying hi. And even if he asked Craig the bartender how much I usually drink, that’s such a ballsy move.”

“And you brought him home.”

“Like I said, he was stunning.” 

“Was he… any good?”

You blush furiously and look away. He had been. The best you’d had in years. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she giggles before loudly sipping her tea.

You move to put the kettle on with a roll of your eyes. As you wait for the water to boil, you reread the short note on the fridge. You like his handwriting, full of flourishes and flair. It fit his style. The note itself made your stomach flip. It meant that he had a good enough time last night too, enough that he wanted to see you again. 

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about what to text him or when to text him. You didn’t want to come off as too eager, but you didn’t want to wait too long and risk him becoming uninterested or thinking you just got lonely and wanted attention. You’re sitting on the couch with the TV on, but you’re not paying attention to it. You’re staring at your phone. You haven’t texted him yet, but you want to. Boy, do you want to.

“Merlin, just text him,” Marie says, coming out of her room. 

“I don’t want to look-”

“He wouldn’t have left his number if he didn’t want you to text him,” she cuts you off. “I’m sure he’d love to see you again, which he can’t do until you text him.”

“He knows where I live,” you point out.

“That’s just an excuse! Text. Him.”

“Marie,” you whine.

“Do you want to see him again?” she asks, crossing her arms and leaning against the kitchen counter. 

“Yes.”

“Then text him. Doesn’t have to be much.”

“Like I can just say hi?”

“Yes! It’s not that difficult.”

“Says the girl who’s been dating her boyfriend since sixth year.”

“Whatever,” Marie laughs. “Speaking of, I’m off to Theo’s. You better have texted that poor sod by the time I’m back.”

You open your messaging app as soon as Marie is out the front door.

[Hey Trust Fund :)]

Your phone makes a swooshing noise as the text sends. And you wait. And wait. You stare at the phone. The TV provides background noise for your unraveling thoughts. 

Did I wait too long to text? Did I not wait long enough? Was ‘Hey’ the wrong thing to say? What if he left the wrong number to mess with me? What if last night wasn’t as enjoyable for him as it was for me and he left his number to appear polite but has no intentions of seeing me again? What if-

Your phone dings. His message lights up your screen.

{hey sweetheart - sorry i had to leave, work :/}

[Who goes to the club when they work in the morning?]

{fun people}

[Where do you work?]

{trying to stalk me?}

[Curious to see where Trust Fund gets his money]

{the record store on cornwallis ln}

{always slow in the morning}

It’s fitting that he works in a music store; over the tea last night, he talked a faer bit about his favorite bands, one of which was on his shirt, despite it being so faded. You realize you’re smiling at your phone. You sigh and decide to be bold.

[Hope it’s not too forward, but I’d like to see you again. Last night was fun]

He doesn’t respond as quickly as he had been. You click the off button on your phone to make the screen go dark as you begin to internally panic. Maybe it was too forward. Too quick to suggest seeing him again. 

Then your screen lights up again.

{i’d love that - busy wed evening?}

He’d love that. Your panic immediately subsides. 

[Nope, but I am now ;)]

---

He suggested a local cafe that did cocktail nights with live music. He’d been to a few of them before, describing it as a laidback scene, casual. It sounded like a good idea so you agreed. You had spent far too long staring at your closest deciding what to wear, only to end up in jeans and a flowy top. A cute outfit but not as “trying hard” as a different skater dress or a skirt would have been. He had said he would meet you outside your building and you’d be able to walk there together. 

“Hey gorgeous!” he calls out as he approaches you. He’s wearing jeans, no rips this time, and a different band tee. 

You feel more confident in your outfit. 

“Hey Trust Fund.”

“Oh, still calling me that, are you?”

You laugh, “Well, I don’t actually know your name…”

“Never came up, did it?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. Then you hold out your hand and say your first name.

He takes your hand to shake it and laughs with you. “Sirius.”

“Like the star?”

“Surprised you know it.” You give him a do I look stupid look. “Not in that way! Most people just don’t recognize it.”

You watch him take out his phone and go to what you assume is your contact.

“Aw, I’m there as pretty thing? That’s cute! You should keep it!”

“You are, no doubt. That’s why that’s what I went with. But I like names, nicknames. Helps me keep track of who’s who, you know?”

“Got a couple pretty things in your phone?”

He flushes at your teasing. 

“No,” he says slowly. “But I do have roommates who like to steal my phone and change all of the contact names. If they saw one pretty thing, every. single. contact. would be pretty thing and I’d have to spend hours figuring out which one is you.”

“Well, you’re staying as Trust Fund,” you say with a cheeky smile. “Plus, my brother would probably look at my phone and ask ‘why are you texting a star?’”

“You got a brother?” 

“Yup. Just one. What about you? Any siblings?”

“One brother too. We’re not too close.”

“Huh,” you say. “I’m not close with mine either. Siblings, what can I say?”

You both laugh and start to walk to the cafe. 

---

It quickly becomes a thing where you and Sirius are seeing each other in person at least once a week, and texting and calling multiple times a day. It wasn’t like you were codependent already. Sirius was just intoxicating, you were addicted to him. You wanted to share everything little thing that happened with him, and the feeling was reciprocated. And you wanted to share him with the people around you. You talked Marie and Theo’s ears off about him. 

“You sound absolutely smitten,” Theo laughs one evening when he and Marie decided for a night in at your shared flat rather than his. 

“Smitten?” Marie asks, shocked. “She’s obsessed! Try asking her about her work, about her other friends, literally anything else. She will somehow tie it back to this boy.”

You shrug. “Not my fault all topics lead back to him.”

“Apparently it’s my fault for encouraging you to text him. If I hadn’t meddled in your love life, you’d still be single and I would still have my sanity.”

“You lost that a long time ago,” Theo says, wrapping his arms around Marie.

“Theo, you’d love him.” Your eyes light up. “We should do a double date!”

“At least let me meet him first before you force him upon Theo! I think roommate ranks higher than roommate’s boyfriend!” 

Sirius, on the other hand, kept you to himself as much as he could. While he didn’t gush to his friends about you, they still knew how much you meant to him, even if they didn’t know your name yet. It was the way he jumped for his phone when your text notification echoed through the flat, the way he smiled when you called and then immediately took the call in a different room, the way he spent a little extra time to make sure he looked good before leaving the flat to meet you somewhere. 

“Off to see my girl, later dudes,” was yelled as he left, leaving the boys to share a knowing look.

Sirius was serious about this girl. And for them to get a little more information out of him all they needed to do was get some alcohol in him. They were hosting game night with some of their Hogwarts friends. As always, drinks were flowing and Sirius wasn’t holding himself back. 

“Sirius, I have a question for you,” Lily says, cornering him in the kitchen as he went to retrieve another beer from the fridge.

“Shoot, Evans,” Sirius says nonchalantly. 

“James says you got a girlfriend,” she says. 

He cracks open the beer and takes a swig. “That’s a statement, love.”

“You’re not denying it,” she retorts, a smile creeping onto her face. 

“How come you’re talking about my lovelife with Prongs?”

Lily laughs as they return to the group.

“Talking about it is certainly one way to describe it. More like he was complaining that you haven’t brought her round yet.”

“Who hasn’t been brought around?” Mary asks, looking up from her cards. 

“Sirius got himself a proper girlfriend.”

“Proper?” Mary questions. “How proper we talking?”

“Smiling at his phone and hour-long calls,” Remus answers for Sirius.

“Oh! So this is serious!” Marlene exclaims.

“I’m always Sirius,” he replies as he plops down onto the couch next to Remus.

“So you’re going to tell us about her, yeah?” Marlene says, her voice implying it was more of a statement than a request.

The alcohol impedes his decision-making skills. So the first thing he says about you is…

“She’s on a first-name basis with the bartender at the club where we met.”

Lily chokes on her drink.

“She’s an alcoholic?” Peter gasps.

“No! No. No. She just goes, went? Goes there often. Dunno. But damn, she’s captivating as well.” He hums. “I like her. A lot.”

“He admits it!” James says, nudging Lily. “He admits it.”

“Yeah, I heard him, babe.”

“O’ course I admit it,” Sirius says a snippy. “She didn’t mind going to that cocktail cafe.”

“Still sounding like an alcoholic…” Peter murmurs.

Mary slaps his shoulder. “Be nice.”

“She likes to dance. She danced with me at the cafe,” Sirius says before taking another swig of beer. “We walked around that muggle art exhibit and she actually knew stuff ‘bout it. Like composition and whatnot. She’s smart like that.”

“Drinks, dances and knows art… Sounds like a keeper,” Remus says with a laugh.

“Do you have like cute nicknames for each other yet? Lil pet names?” Mary asks.

Sirius smiles widely. “Yeah! Well, she does for me. She has me in her phone as Trust Fund.”

The group just stares at him blankly, which wasn’t the reaction he was expecting.

“What?” 

“Trust Fund?” Lily asks, furrowing her brows. “So she’s dating you for your money?”

SIrius’ eyes go wide in realization. That nickname needed its backstory.

“No! No, Godric no. The night I met her, I told the bartender I’d pay for her entire tab before I even said hi. So she assumed I had money to fall back on and called me that all night.”

“Certainly one thing to moan in bed…” Peter mumbled, earning himself another light slap from Mary.

Sirius didn’t give him a reaction.

“And then later, she said that if she put Sirius in her phone, her brother would ask why she’s texting a star,” Sirius continued with a laugh.

The air in the room eases. 

“She knows I have a job! And she does too. Honestly, the Black fortune hasn’t come up. She’s not like that.”

“Sirius, we believe you,” Marlene says. “What is she in your phone?”

“Her name with a black heart emoji.”

“Classy,” Remus slurs.

“Shut up,” Sirius says, but his words have no bite.

He’s just smiling into his beer can. 

The next day as he’s cleaning up from game night, Sirius steps into Peter’s room. If he was going to run the dishwasher, he wanted all the dishes and Peter had a habit of hoarding his used cups. A picture of Peter’s family on vacation sitting on the dresser catches Sirius’ eye. Peter is really young in the old photo which Sirius assumes was taken sometime pre-Hogwarts. He can’t help but think the girl standing next to Peter looks vaguely familiar. He probably just recognizes her from Hogwarts, being that she is Peter’s sister, he tells himself, unable to completely place the face. He doesn’t think much of it, grabbing two rather large stacks of cups and leaving Peter’s room. 

In the kitchen, he organizes the cups into the dishwasher and starts it up. Then he moves around the living room, picking up wrappers and cans. 

“Since when do you clean up after game night?” Remus asks, leaning against the doorframe of his room. His voice is scratchy from just waking up.

Looking down at the rubbish in his hands, Sirius says, “I guess since today?”

“What’s eating your mind then?”

“Huh?”

“Padfoot, I’ve lived with you for about half my life. You’re acting like an elf. What’s going on?”

“Just thinking about her.” 

“And that has you cleaning?”

“She’s just… unreal.”

“Unreal,” Remus repeats back to him. 

“Haven’t felt like this about a girl before, Moony. All those Hogwarts girls? They don’t compare.”

Remus chuckles and stands up straighter before walking over to Sirius. He places his hands on Sirius’ shoulder.

“Sounds like you fell quick and hard, m’friend.”

“Fell…”

“If you like her more than all the girls from school… Sirius, you might be in love.”

---

“Hey, Wormtail, where you off to? I thought we were having roommate dinner?” James calls from the kitchen of the boys’ flat. 

“I told you I couldn’t tonight,” he says as he pulls on a coat. “I got that family dinner.”

“Ugh, I forgot!” James groans.

“Is it like national family dinner night or something?” Sirius asks, joining James in the kitchen. 

“Dunno, why?”

“Girlfriend’s got family dinner tonight too.”

“Speaking of,” Remus says from where he’s sat in the living room, “when do we get to meet this amazing chick?

Sirius shrugs. “Whenever I decide she’s ready to handle a game night with you bastards.”

“Alright, that’s it. I’m outtie!” Peter calls before the front door slams behind him and the rest of the boys hear the lock turn. 

“Just give us some warning before she comes over, yeah? We’ll clean up a bit,” Remus says with a wink. 

“And if it’s for a game night, we can invite the girls too!” James adds. “Lils, Marlene, Dorcas, Mary. The whole gang.”

“Yeah, and we can invite Reg, and Evan and Junior, and Pandora too. Then I’ll take her to meet my parents immediately after,” Sirius replies sarcastically.

The boys give him blank looks.

“The whole Hogwarts gang might be a bit much. You lot are a bit much, but not much I can do ‘bout that,” he explains.

“Aw, he doesn’t want to scare her off,” Remus coos, joining the other two in the kitchen.

“No, I don’t,” Sirius says firmly. “Now what are you making, Prongs? I’m getting hungry.”

“Spaghetti. Remus, what sauces we got?”

Remus opens the cupboard with a squeak. “Ah, looks like red sauce, red sauce number two, white sauce, green sauce… third red sauce.” 

“Eh. Pick one of the reds.” James looks over his shoulder at Sirius, who is leaning against the counter. “For a girl you’re obsessed with, we still don’t actually know her name.”

---

Peter’s already there when you arrive at your parents’ house. He’s talking with your dad as they set the table. Your mum is in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on dinner. 

“Smells like I arrived just in time!” you say, taking off your coat.

“I’m setting the table, you’re clearing it,” Peter informs you.

“Darling, go help your mother bring the food to the table,” your dad says.

You do help your mum set the table and you sit down as a family. Since you and Peter don’t live too far away, your parents try to have dinner once a month to catch up. Your dad rants about the people he works with. Your mum discusses the gossip from her book club. Peter starts talking about a movie that he saw with some of his roommates. 

“Oh, I saw that movie with my boyfriend!” you interject.

“You have a boyfriend?” your mum asks, clearly intrigued. “This is new!”

“Yeah, it is. Only been official for a week or so now.”

“You were going to tell us… when?” your dad asks.

You roll your eyes. “I was going to, Dad. I’m an adult, I don’t have to tell you about everyone I date.”

“There’s more?” your mum nearly exclaims.

“Not really, no, but the point is I don’t have to tell you. Until I’m sure they are sticking around for a while.”

“Yeah? You like this one?” Peter asks, putting down his fork. 

“I do, Pete. He’s a good guy.”

“Didn’t you say that about your fifth year boyfriend?”

You snort a laugh. “Don’t go bringing Diggory into this.”

“So, where did you meet this fellow?” your dad asks, trying to avoid a sibling argument. 

Peter never liked Amos Diggory and, while he had treated you kindly for a while, Amos ended up cheating on you. You shut down for a while, which you still think is a perfectly normal reaction, but Peter was concerned for his big sister. 

“Ah, um, well,” you stumble over your words. “This little cafe near my flat.”

You were not going to tell your parents that you met your boyfriend at a club. Meeting at a cafe was a much cuter scenario that kept their internal image of their pristine daughter. You assumed they knew you weren’t pristine, but it was one of those things you don’t talk about with your parents unless you have to. It was easier that way. 

“That’s nice, sweetie. Pete, you seeing anyone?” your mum asks, taking the attention off you for a moment. 

Peter blushes. “No. Been focused on work.”

“Whatever happened between you and that girl… what’s her name… She went to school with you?”

“Really narrows it down, Mum.”

“Martha?” 

“Mary?” Peter all but gasps. He blushes deeper. “Nothing ever really happened with her.”

“So that Appleby Arrows?” you ask your dad. 

Peter didn’t need to discuss a failed attempt at a relationship with your parents. The fact that they knew about it was embarrassing enough. You knew the two were still friends; from what you had heard, he wanted a relationship and she didn’t so they somehow managed to be friendly for the friend group’s sake. Peter gave you a thankful look and you both filled your mouths with your mum’s cooking as your dad started ranting about the most recent match and the horrendous officiating. 

---

“Didn’t we go to school with someone named Sirius?” Marie muses later in the week.

When you first told her your boyfriend’s name, she laughed. It’s just such an odd name, she had said. And now, she was thinking they knew someone else with that name, especially after she told Theo and he brought up school. 

“Probably? He’s a wizard living in London. I would not be surprised if he went to Hogwarts.”

“But surely we’d recognize him then.”

“I don’t know. I guess I’ll ask next time I see him. But I can’t say I really paid attention to anyone younger than us, so even if he did, it doesn’t matter.”

“I keep forgetting he’s younger!” she exclaims. “You usually go for the older dudes.”

“Older dudes go for me,” you correct her, a smile playing at your lips. “Sirius just works though, you know?”

“If he makes you happy, I’m happy. I’m not the one snogging him on our couch.”

You laugh. “At least I do it when you’re not home.”

“And I go to Theo’s.”

You clink your glasses in solidarity. 

---

You’re laying on the couch with Sirius, watching an American forensic TV show, when you remember that conversation with Marie. You figure now is as good of a time as any.

“Sirius?”

“Hm?”

“Did you go to Hogwarts?”

“Uh, yeah, I did.”

You hum. “What house were you in?”

“Gryffindor?”

“Oh! You probably know my brother then.”

“Yeah?” he says, looking down at you in his arms. “What’s his name?”

“Peter.”

Sirius sits up, forcing you out of his embrace, with his eyes wide.

“Peter as in Peter Pettigrew?”

“Yeah.”

You move out of his way as he stands up and begins pacing. You watch him, unsure of his reaction.

“Sirius?”

“I’m dating my best friend’s sister? How did… what?” 

My best friend’s sister. So that meant that he was Peter’s roommate now too. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. Sirius is pacing and muttering confused fragments to himself.

“Sirius?” 

“You’re a Pettigrew?” he asks, pausing for a moment to look at you.

“Yes. Is that a problem?”

He doesn’t answer right away. That stings. He runs a hand through his hair and starts pacing again. The girl in the photo in Peter’s room is you.

“No, it’s not a problem,” he says after a few paces. “It’s just… just… very, very unexpected?” 

You stand up and go to hold his shoulders, stopping his pacing. 

“It’s good we figured this out before we ended up at your place, yeah?”

He groans but it’s lighthearted. “Godric, that’d be embarrassing.” He pauses as he thinks. “Shit, that’s going to be embarrassing. ‘Hey, Peter. This is my girlfriend. You know her as your sister.’”

Sirius forcefully rests his forehead on your shoulder. You card your fingers through his hair to comfort him. 

“Well, it’s that or you wait for a Pettigrew family event and I introduce you as ‘Sirius, my boyfriend, and Peter’s longtime best friend.’”

“That’s not any better,” he says to your shoulder. 

“We have to tell him at some point.”

“Do we?”

“Probably. Guess it depends on how serious this is.”

“This?”

“Us.” You pause and lean backwards so Sirius has to lift his head back up. “There is still an us, right?”

“Yeah, yes, of course,” he says rushed. “Sorry, my brain is-”

“Taking it all in. Yeah.” You offer him a soft smile before it falls from your face. “Wait, so what’s your surname?”

He laughs. “Legally, Black. Sirius Orion Black. But the Potters basically adopted me when I ran away.”

“Potters… Jake or something?”

“James.”

“Ah… How did our surnames never come up?”

“You were the one who calls me Trust Fund.”

“You’re a Black!” you exclaim, dots connecting. “You are a trust fund! I knew it!”

“Dating me for my money are you?” he teases.

“You paid my tab first. That’s on you.” You lean up to kiss his nose. “And then you won me over by being irresistibly you.” 

“Aw, don’t make me blush.” 

“I think it’s my life goal now.” 

lol this has been sitting in my drafts for a while - was fun to write and polish up

[tigerqueen767]

Helluva Boss Season Finale

So a homophobic client shows up and tells IMP to kill her husband for leaving her for a man and cheating (possibly.) IMP attempt to try and kill him but then Blizto can't do it cause of his feefees and cause he sees himself in that man. Forget that Blizto has killed many people for petty reasons before (Spring Broken is a good example, he literally killed tons of random people, many of which were probably gay, just because of a bet) and forget that he chastised Moxxie for doing the exact same thing (weird how Mox didn't bring that up honestly) NO, you can't criticize this gay man because he's so cute and gay. That's the message Viv is sending.

The moral of this episode is that if you criticize Stolas and Blizto's relationship, you're homophobic. Wowww... Just wow!

It couldn't possibly be because these two have absolutely no chemistry and only know eachother because of sex. It couldn't possibly be because Stolas made a creepy and predatory deal with Blizto. It couldn't possibly be because Stolas is a terrible person who lied to his daughter and is written terribly. Forget that Stolas risked his life for his fuck buddy when he should have stayed with his daughter. Forget that Blizto never wanted a serious relationship until now just because that's what the writers want. Forget everything I said and just sit back and watch Blizto and Stolas dance on the balcony since it's the only thing Viv cares about.

Stolizt is the only thing Viv cares about. That's what this episode proves once and for all. Their relationship is the only thing that had any meaningful continuity in season 1. Everything else was episodic material.

Maybe in Season 3 we'll focus on other things but it won't make up for the trainwreck of a Season this was.

Now, because I don't just want to be negative, let me talk about how this Season could have been 1000 times better. Let me offer a fix.

This Season would have been great if it split it's screen time 70-30 between the IMP stuff and the Stolas stuff. Let every member of IMP shine in their own episode. It's not like there isn't enough time. Explore Millie's prejudice against Hellhounds (cause we all know she doesn't respect Hellhounds.) Explore Millie's wrath and how it might help and hinder her. It might lead to devastating consequences depending on who she chooses to fight and why. Shoot first and ask questions later is not a good principle and I feel like that's exactly what she does. Have Loona and Via actually hang out! Show us how her timidness and introversion make that relationship start off rocky. Show us how she changes from a person who can barely hold a conversation in the Queen Bee episode to a person that would have a bunch of friends over for Sinsmas. That development WAS. NOT. THERE!!

Have Moxxie actually confront his fears. It looked like he was about to fight his dad but then he got tazed and his wife did all the work. Why? Have him stand up to Blizto finally and make Blizto respect him. Cause Blizto does not respect him. Look at the way he talks to him in Season 2 and tell me this is respectful. Plus, in the episode Truth Seekers he only congratulated Moxxie for killing well. That's it. He respects the work he does but not who he is as a person. That could have been explored in Season 2. That would have been a great arc.

As for Blizto show more of his relationship between him and his sister. Blizto brought Barbie up again in the finale and it sounds like they really want us to care about her character but she wasn't even in the flashback episode. In order to fix the flashback episode, get rid of Stolas! Don't make a flashback that includes Stolas at all. Just make it about life in the circus performing with Blizto, Barbie and Fizz.

And instead of a giant special episode about Fizz and his terrible boss how about an episode dedicated to Stolas and Via's relationship. Why not write a song about how they've lived their lives over the years. Show us what it was like to BE her.

I'm getting tired of writing now. I hope you enjoyed reading this, at least a little.

[bambihrt]

Christmas in Hell

a very hazbin christmas, full of joy, cheer and a party for the ages

Alastor x reader

Reader needs the perfect gift for Angel Dust but has to ask a certain someone for help. Just a little fluffy holiday special.

You would think after death the holidays wouldn't be very important. In hell, especially you would think since they're not big fans of the big guy in charge that they wouldn't celebrate a certain someone's birth. Well Charlie Morningstar was not going to let those facts ruin her super-duper fantastical holiday party.

Christmas Eve

Despite the lack of Christmas spirit Angel Dust was booked and busy letting Santa come down the chimney in a few special videos to be released the next day. Even though his stocking was being filled early you, as his best friend, were stressing over the perfect gift to get him.

Earlier in the week, Charlie has gathered everyone in the hotel to the main space where she had set up a giant tree that reached the ceiling. Charlie and her partner Vaggie, covered in pine needles and wearing lumberjack clothing, held Husk's hat full of folded slips of paper open for the circle.

"Hiiiii everyone! Hope you're all merry and ready for a fun group bonding exercise!" Charlie began.

She was met with loud groans and signs. "Shut up and listen to Charlie she put a lot of work into this," Vaggie huffed with rage.

"Thanks Vaggie. Anyways, I've set up a secret Santa for everyone to- HEAR ME OUT OKAY yes so you'll choose a name and then on Christmas we'll swap gifts and it will be so fun!" Charlie explained while passing the hat along and giggling and staring you down when she picked a piece of paper.

Since you had died quite young, your family hadn't make it to Hell yet or they made are in the place above, so you haven't celebrated since making your way to the after life, so this sounded like fun. But you couldn't resist a playful eye roll as you chose your paper reading Angel Dust to yourself.

Husk groaned while picking from his hat and then placing it on his head, "I thought through death I escaped obligatory in-law get togethers but now I have this shit."

Fast forward back to present day you were still stuck on what you could get him. Adult toys? No give him a break from work. Drugs? Not that you want to encourage that habit. Nifty had been no help when you asked. Muttering on about bad boys and cleaning. You didn't bother with asking Husk. Sir Pentious was still being coached on the whole secret Santa concept. Vaggie and Charlie had too many good ideas but none felt right for Angel Dust. This left you with only one option.

Knocking twice on the radio demon's door, your face twisted with instant regret and immediately started back down the hallway. "Leaving so soon? Now here I was thinking you saved the best for last." The gaze of his knowing smile burned the back of your head as you swiveled around.

"Sorry Alastor it was stupid idea I'll leave you to do... whatever you were doing."

"Nonsense my dear! Why I'd be happy to help my favorite guest with a gift for a certain effeminate fellow!"

"How did you-"

Alastor let out his practiced laugh, "Discretion is not one of your strengths (y/n)."

Your cheeks set alight hearing Alastor call you by your first name, no pet name or teasing nicknames. He held the door open and you avoided his gaze while leading inside. The great radio demon sauntered over to his large cherry wood desk inside his room and sat in a leather cushion maroon chair. Due to the lack of seating options, you hovered near the edge of his bed while le smiled and motioned for you to take a seat with a teasing glint in his eye.

Mustering up the courage to break the silence you asked, "I thought you didn't allow visitors inside your room."

Twiddling with his microphone cane Alastor responded, "I can make exceptions."

"I don't have any VoxTek on me by the way. Just in case you wondered."

A sound came from him, almost like a real giggle but you must of been mistaken. "I know (y/n)."

"Well since you seem to know everything what would be the perfect gift for Angel Dust that will show I'm a wonderful friend?"

"I can only give you hints, would spoil the game if I told you."

You groaned and fell back against the bed. Of course coming to Alastor was a mistake. As if an overlord would want to help silly you buy a silly gift for a silly holiday.

"Cheer up dearie! You're closer to the answer then you might think."

Eyebrows furrowed and dread he might make a fool of you, you asked him for the first hint.

"Something to do with your weekly film Friday events perhaps?"

"It's actually called freaky Friday because of our shared love of movies from the noughties." You said with a cheeky grin. "Angel also loves a dirty joke whenever it's possible to have one."

"Ah yes you, the spider ,and the swine all cuddled together in your matching pajamas on the settee watching princess makeovers and assistant makeovers and-"

"Hey it's more than just makeovers!" However, the comment gave you an idea, "Oh my god what if I get him a Fat Nuggets blanket?"

A round of applause played while Alastor called out "Ding ding! We have a winner!"

Letting out a sheepish smile and thank you, you rose from the bed ready to search for a way to get this made by the end of the day. Then a perfectly wrapped gift appeared in front of your face and dropped into your hands. Your head whipped in the direction of the smiling demon across the room.

"Is this what I think it is? How did you have it already?"

"I know you."

With a flushed face and full arms you made your way out of the room and through the doorway. Only halfway through the walk to your bedroom did you realize Alastor knew of your movie nights and took note of the matching pajamas. The radio demon noticed you.

Christmas Day

A giant fire roared in the hearth as bells rung and music played around the hotel. Excitement filled the air as the originally dismissive group exchanged gifts to each other. You and Angel Dust hung together watching the others until you announced you had something for him.

"Aw (y/n) you're my secret Santa?"

You snatched the Santa hat off Angel Dust's head in embarassment and placed it on your own as you laughed, "Had to get something for my ho ho hoe."

After a fit of giggles said spider unwrapped his gift and his eyes lit up, "If you had a dick I'd suck it so hard right now thank you doll."

Christmas was a success and you could finally breathe a sigh of relief and a laugh at your best friend's words as he snuggled himself within the blanket along with its muse in his lap.

Charlie rose up to give her gift as you prepared yourself with being thankful and happy no matter what she gave you. Until she turned to Nifty with a gift that turned out to be a new dress for her. Filled with confusion you swore to Angel that you thought Charlie got you due to her obviousness. Then the young Morningstar turned again to look above you and smiled so brightly.

Both yours and Angel Dust moved to see what she was smiling at behind you only to be face to face, or well chest, of the radio demon. Grinning down at you with his hands behind his back he laughed and said, "Happy Christmas from your secret Santa."

"What? I thought for sure it was Charlie."

"We struck a sort of deal," Alastor explained while behind your back Charlie gave a thumbs up as the rest of the crew stopped to watch.

The gift was handed to you as you carefully unwrapped it, conscious of all the eyes currently on you or rather what a scary overlord has given you as a gift. Inside was a beautifully crafted music box with carvings of your favorite flowers and sculptures of little deer in a meadow. You opened the box and your ears are met with an instrumental version of your favorite song.

"How did you-"

"Like I said I know you (y/n)."

Suddenly Charlie's voice bellowed, "Look who's under the mistletoe!" As if you couldn't be any more red from this interaction you now looked up to see that very mistletoe above you and Alastor. Your facial expression fell realizing this was going to be so awkward, being rejected in front of everyone despite it not being caused by you. Full of thoughts on how to escape or come up with a nonchalant response to not even being wanted for one measly peck and planning when you'll disappear to nurse your ego, you were distracted from the real world. That was until a pair of lips met your own in a soft yet hungry kiss. The moment felt like eternity yet also a millisecond at the same time. Before you could return the kiss, the deer demon pulled back and with a wink, walked away.

Shocked faces and silence filled the room as no one expected Alastor's actions. Lightly touching your lips, you thought maybe Christmas in Hell isn't so bad.

[thatdesigirl17]

you and i

toxic!theo x fem!reader

kinda inspired by the song you&I by one direction

warnings: theo being toxic and manipulative, slight angst, theo may seem a bit possessive and territorial

It had been going on for months now. The constant fighting, the making up, the arguing again, it had converted into a cycle with Theo. Today, another misunderstanding led Theo to storm out of Y/N’s dorm, leaving her alone to dwell in her frustration and sadness. It had become excessively frustrating for Y/N, the way Theo would never listen to her, would never talk things out. He would always avoid the conversation, he had become an expert really in getting out of it. Her friends had started to tell her that this was toxic, that he wasn't good for her. That was what had started the argument this time, her friends 'interfering' in their relationship as Theo had phrased it. Y/N sat on the ground, her knees tucked in her arms towards her chest, her chin resting on them, as she thought over her relationship with Theo. She loved him, and he always seemed to know what exactly to say to win her again but it was getting exhausting to be like this. 

The door to her dorm opened slowly, pausing her thoughts midway as she looked up to see who it was. Theo, of course. He was standing there with a bouquet and a small carry bag in his bag. The slightest bit of a smirk appeared on his face as he took in the sight of her. 

‘What do you want?’, Y/N asked slowly, her voice low, her words making him frown slightly. ‘Bella, I shouldn’t have fought with you like that. You know I love you right?’, he said, coming closer to her. He handed out the bouquet of white lilies, her favourites, to her. It was neatly packed in brown paper, tied securely with a white ribbon, the arrangement of lilies done with white orchids and baby's breath. 

'Theo...', she sighed accepting the bouquet and placing it next to her on the floor. He crouched down beside her, setting the other bag on the floor. She shifted her position on the floor, crossing her legs, sitting up straighter to face him. 'Why do you always have to avoid talking things out? It’ll just be so much better for the both of us.’, she started, trying to get him to talk, her hand on his forearm. ‘Cara, please, let’s just forget about it okay? Both of us said things we didn’t mean.’, he said, his voice silky smooth. Y/N looked at him, knowing that he couldn’t get out of talking this time that easily, Theo sat down in front of her, cupping her cheek and caressing it gently. 

‘Cara mia…’, he started, his eyes pleading and full of sincerity, ‘I know we have been arguing a lot lately, but we love each other more than that. I know you think your friends are right, but they don't know anything about us, about how we make this relationship work. Did they ever fight like us? Did they ever hold each other like us? We see things differently, amore, but we try, like no one ever has and that’s what makes us special. That’s what makes us stronger.’ 

Y/N looked at him feeling herself get swayed by his words again. No matter how hard she tried, she knew he loved her and she loved him. She knew she would go back to him, he would make her come back. 

‘Y/N…’, he said in a soft voice. Her name on his lips further crumbled her doubts about him. ‘Amore mia, we can make it till the end, till we are one. I know it, I believe in us. Nothing has come between you and I, definitely not some silly argument like this. Do you believe in me? In us?’ 

Theo looked at her, his eyes full of hope. Y/N nodded, making Theo smile, as he leaned in, pulled her closer and kissed her. It was soft and passionate. ‘That’s my girl.’, he smiled pulling away, 'Promise me you won't let anyone get to your head again.' 

He held her gaze, searching her eyes for any reaction. Y/N nodded slowly, her hand coming up to rest on his wrist and caress him reassuringly, a small smile breaking out on her face. Her words made him grin, as he gave her a quick peck on the lips, before continuing, ‘I planned to take you out on a nice dinner tonight, and then give you this, but I think here will have to do.’  He turned slightly, picking up the bag that rested on the floor, beside them. 

He handed her the bag and she opened it carefully to reveal a square, red box that read ‘Cartier’ in neat cursive. She looked at him a bit surprised as she opened the box. In the box, laid a beautiful bracelet made of white gold and diamonds, the classic Cartier design. ‘My god Theo, this is beautiful. It must have cost a lot, you didn’t have to do this.’, Y/N said, her fingers gently tracing the piece of jewellery. ‘Anything for you, cara. Don’t worry about anything and let me put it on, yeah?’, he smiled. 

He gently picked up the bracelet, opened the clasp and then put it on her left wrist. He then pulled up a small driver out of the pocket of his jacket as Y/N eyed him with confusion. 

He chuckled, ‘It’s a Cartier love bracelet, Bella.’ He tightened the bracelet with the driver and caressed it on her wrist. The sight made him smirk softly. Holding her hand, he brought it up and kissed her knuckles. ‘It can’t be taken off without the driver. You’ll wear this forever now, as a symbol of our love.’, he explained, her eyes widening in surprise. Before she could say anything, he continued, his voice soft but firm, ‘Nothing can separate you and I now, amore, not even the gods. I’m gonna throw the driver in the Black Lake so that it’s always there on your wrist. You’re mine, Y/N, forever.’ 

[keelt9]

DAHLIA

Masterlist

I slowly entered Joe's room while he’s still fully asleep, laid down at his left. I carefully light on the candle trying to make any sound, emphasis in trying because the lighter makes so much noise that Joe opens his eyes slowly.

“No.” I whisper but it’s useless. Joe is awake. “No, sleep, please.” I try to cover his eyes, making him giggle.

Joe grabs my hand over his eyes with a smirk on his face. “Ok, I can do that.” 

He pretends to fall asleep but inevitably laughs one second later. “Enough?”

I roll my eyes. “We can say that.” 

He opens his eyes, blinking, realizing on my other hand I had a small cake with a candle of Ness, his character from Super Mario.

“Happy birthday.” Joe laughs sitting on the bed.

“What is this?” It’s a small cake I made earlier in the morning trying to mute any sound of the kitchen, without counting the sound of the lighter. “This is great.”

He points to the candle. “Well, blow it up or it melted completely.”

Joe closes his eyes blowing the candle, making a wish.

“A good wish?” Joe nods, taking a small bite of his cake.

“Sorry, but if I tell you, it won't make it true.” Joe observes narrowing his eyes. “You have something on your face.”

“Where?” Joe approaches, catching my upper lip in a kiss. 

“Butter cream.” He licks his lips. “Yeah, it tastes really good.” 

I blink speechless as I grab my heated face with my free hand, hot like a bonfire.

“Let me try again.” He tries to kiss me one more time, my useless attempt to avoid it, ends in him grabbing the cake quickly, putting on the night table beside him with me under him on his bed.

Take a little bit of the buttercream putting on my lips, kissing me as he grabs my neck.

“Yeah, really good.” I giggle, giving him a small peck.

The sound of his alarm distracts us; Joe knows he must get ready for training.

“Save it for the bell.” He stands taking another bite of his cake. 

I sit watching him with dazzling eyes, as he goes to his closet.

“Guys are preparing a small dinner for my birthday, would you like to come?” I hissed. I met a few of his friends in casual conversation, this is another step.

“I have to travel home tonight.” Joe smiles leaning to me, grabbing his pink hoodie for don't fall over my face.

“I know, I know, it's my last attempt.” He kissed my forehead.

“Sorry.” I stand giving him a hug. “Happy birthday Joe.”

Although it is Joe's birthday; tomorrow it's my grandmother's birthday too, all the family are gathering to celebrate her. 85 years old is a big number. 

“Are you planning to come back before Christmas?” Joe starts to put all he could need inside of his bag. “You work for a place here, you know, it will be…”

“I'll try, I'm not promising anything, besides I've always been working remotely.” He laughs going to change his clothes.

“Before I forget.” He takes a paper bag. “Let's consider it as a previous Christmas gift.”

I opened the bag, a Bengal shirt with the number 9 on it.

I roll my eyes. “You don't have to look for it anymore, failing in the attempt.”

However, in the corner I notice something unusual next to his number. 

“Wait, wait, what is this?” I lift the shirt, pointing to the tiny orange heart, next to the big white 9.

Joe pretends looking at his phone. “I'm going late, let's go for breakfast.”

He pulls me from my hand going downstairs, giggling as a kid.

Before Christmas I had a special present for Joe. 

I got to be in Cincinnati a couple of days ago, however it is the second week they’re in a game out of home. Right now they're in Seattle after a bad loss, with a defense that has been imperceptible.

Joe seems disturbed in the press conference, still he texts me, hoping to arrive on time before I take my flight home.

He thinks I'll leave tonight to be on time and help my family before travelling to spend Christmas with my mother's mother.

“This is the last one.” Jason brings the last tray of food.

As Lilian sits on a chair. “I feel I could be arrested in any minute.”

I chuckle as I set in their place the last mistletoe.

“Ready!” I smile seeing around all the arrangements, happy with how everything is settled. “Now let's go, that I don't have so much time.”

I push them to the door not before taking the last look, it's perfect.

After a quick shower and changing my clothes, I just left myself enough time to drive back before Joe arrives from Seattle.

All should be according to the plan with my “little” helpers. 

And it was, as I kept waiting for a couple well-known voices, that I heard at the entrance.

“Come on guys, this could wait.” Joe complains. “Y/N leaves tonight, I haven't seen her in weeks, and I really want to say goodbye to her.”

“Joe, this mustn't wait, it's urgent.” Tee said, even though he sounds tired, his voice is cheerful.

I heard them opening the crystal door of the training camp, but I know they just make sure Joe gets inside before leaving.

“The lights aren't even turned on!” Joe screams as I light on.

“Merry Christmas Eve Eve!” Joe blinks, getting used to the lights. 

When he does he smiles brightly tilting his head when he sees me in a green velvet dress and an elf hat..

“What is this?” He walks to me to hug me. “This is pretty amazing!”

I smile as I surround him with my arms. “And I make dinner.” I think for a second. “Sorry, we made dinner.”

“We?” Joe split, noticing the dinner set in a small table behind me.

“Lilian, Jason and me.” Joe grabs my hand as we walk close to the table.

“How did you get in?” Joe looks around seeing the Christmas lights hanging around a small area.

I pretend thinking. “You have good friends willing to help.” 

Tee, Ja’Marr and BJ helped me to convince Zac to intercede for me and get a special permission. 

“Should we?” Joe says with a bloated eyes but a side to side smile.

“Yeah of course.” I give him a small peek in his cheek.

The dinner is delicious, you can see it for the way Joe barely speaks until we finished.

“Delicious.” He cleaned the corner of his mouth. 

“Big thanks to my mom.” She guided us through all the cooking processes. 

Joe put his elbows over the table. “Why here?”

I scoff rolling my eyes. “Joe, do you know how many security cameras you have in your house?” 

He laughs. “A few.”

“A few, yeah, a few.” I take out a box under my chair. “Here.”

Joe giggles, his hands on his hair.

“What is this?” I smile seeing his cheek in a soft pink.

I tremble with fingers on the top of the box. “Don't get too excited, ok? It’s not a fancy thing.”

Joe clicks his tongue. “Damn.” For after, wink at me.

“Open it.” I smirk as he takes the upper part, tiling his head confused.

“I'm lost.” He takes another small box with twelve candles, small white candles.

I point to the box with the candles. “One candle, one wish. Simple as that.”

Joe and his rich laugh is music to my ears. 

“Can I begin?” Joe opened the box taking out one. 

“Now?” I cough for the surprise.

“Yeah now.” He digs in the big box and finds the matches. “I'm supposed to write on this.” 

He takes the small piece of paper tied to the candle and the pen, I nod. “If there is something I can help, let me know.” 

Joe smiles. “One more time, how many candles are there?” He keeps writing.

“Twelve.” He folded the small paper and carefully burned it.

“Then you owe me eleven wishes.” He winks at me, but I just point the ashes on the table. “Don’t worry, this is for me, to myself.”

I lean on the table giving him a small peck on his lips.

“Merry Christmas and happy new year Joe.” He has that naughty smile on his lips. 

He caresses my cheek. “Merry Christmas.”

On Christmas Day Joe made sure to send me a photo of the second candle with his wish written on it.

 >Eat well and keep healthy.

Like every year we spend Christmas in Buffalo, this year the cold and the snow are at their top.

Streets are covered in white, you need 3 minutes outside to be covered in a white cold veil. 

“So, darling, your mother and Collin said you've been quite happy, these months.” Grandma said as she took out the special cake that Collin loved from the oven. “A special reason?”

I finished cutting the last strawberries she will use for decorating. “It’s not a reason, grandma, it’s a person.”

Bad time to eat a strawberry that almost killed me. “A QB.” 

Grandma softly patted my back giggling. “There is a reason why Colin must be far away from wine, he tends to speak way too much.”

I take a sip of water thinking of a way to punish him as soon as he appears at the door.

“Ye…Yes. But, we’re just hanging around, dating, seeing how things work, it could be just a…” Grandma tilts her head as he takes out all the things she will need. 

“Darling, darling, how many times have I told you about your Grandfather and me?” She has that face of utter love.

They met in middle school, after grandpa helped her to hide from her friends in what seemed like a cringe double date; breaking his glasses on the way, for crashing with him as she covered her face walking outside the school.

“It’s not the same.” Grandma raises her hand so she can keep talking. 

“I fell in love with that guy with clear vision problems in less than 3 months, now look at us, happily married after 47 years.” She smiles proudly with a voice full of adoration.

The loud hit on the door with laughs from grandpa and Collin, makes her roll her eyes. 

“Sorry! We bought it!” Collin appears in the kitchen sweating covered in snow as dad and mom carry the boxes inside of the house.

“You didn’t go for a box of chocolate bars?” I asked Collin as he drank all my water.

“It's supposed to be! But Grandpa saw the discounts and said we’ll buy a few.” He makes quotation marks with his hands. “He bought one box; for you, one for me and one for mom and dad.”

“Collin!” Mom shouted for him from the door. 

He leans his head on my shoulder. “Did I mention their friends?.” He takes a deep breath. “Walking a meter on the snow it's like walking three miles.” 

His breathing is fast even you can see a big smile on his face. “I’m coming!”

He runs to the door leaving a trace of snow from the kitchen to the main door.

“See, how not falling in love with him?” Grandma smiles and grabs my hand. “What I am saying is, when the feelings are real time it doesn't matter; what you feel here.” She pointed to my heart. “And here.” Then to my head. “It’s the most important.”

I see Grandpa entering with three chocolates bars, one for grandma, one for me and one for him, kissing her head. 

“For you.” Grandpa takes out a dahlia from his coat. 

We came back just in time for I could see the last game of the year from the Bengals, a wonderful defense even though the offense was a little bit imprecise, work for getting them to keep the win in their home.

But for Joe that wasn’t enough, you can see for the twisted lips at the end of the press conference. 

“You’ll have a full week to make an adjustment. Don’t be so hard on you.” I called Joe when he texts me he’s in his home. 

Joe nods and as he leans on the couch, nodding avoiding my eyes through the video call. 

“Joe?” He sighs and sees the camera nod one more time. “Now, please, stop pulling your fingers.”

He giggles. “I’m tired, sorry.” He put his hand on his neck moving around his head.

“It’s ok, go and rest, I’ll call you tomorrow, ok?” I stand on my bed wanting so badly to be with him but he needs a little bit of space.

“What a way of ending the year with me, huh?” I scoff as he gets down his head, pulling his finger one more time.

“It couldn’t be better.” He saw the camera with a surprise expression. “I mean it.”

The knock on my door as Collin stays in the door distracted me. 

He scrunched his face when he noticed I’m on a call. “Sorry Y/N, but it’s time.”

I nod, tonight one of my father's best friends invited us for a last dinner before New year.

I smile at Collin before he goes out of my room. “Well, time to go, too.”

I stand on the bed, ready to hang out the video call, searching for my coat.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on a second, let me see you.” Joe takes his phone like he could see it more in detail.

Switching the camera in front of my mirror Joe can see me; wearing a cute black dress, a Christmas present of Lilian.

“No way.” I can see Joe hiding his face on a pillow. “You look… whoa.” 

Feeling shy and adored, that’s all I can say.

“Y/N! We’re going late!” Dad passed in front of my room screaming. 

Joe mumbled a couple of things that I couldn’t hear. “Sorry, text you later, bye.”

As we get in the car Joe sends a photo with the third candle and the note.

 >See you in person. ❤️

Even though both of us knew we couldn't see each other before new year, it was still a little bittersweet situation. We have to settle with a quick call at midnight, under the mischievous eyes of my family observing me through the crystal door of the backyard. 

Next morning all of us wake up really late, with the appearance we just sleep one hour; by the time I get down to the kitchen dad is making coffee with his PJs on.

“Mom?” I take four cups from the counter regretting leaving my sweater on my bed.

“Trying to stay awake.” Both of us laugh, that laugh increases when Collin enters, messy hair closing his eyes as he hits the door of the kitchen. 

He put his hand over his forehead. “We should change that for a normal door, let’s get rid of the crystal door.”

Dad served three cups of coffee observing us sitting on the stool, with a smirk on his face. “Serving coffee, years ago, milk and cereal.”

“Dad!” Collin rolls his eyes. “It’s the first day of the new year, let’s not be sentimental.”

I push his arm. “Speak to the big, not sentimental boy.”

Collin cried yesterday, probably drunk as he remembered in a few months he will be far away from home.

“Whatever, Y/N, do you mind going to your grandparents' greenhouse?” Dad asked to take things for breakfast.

“Sure.” 

My grandparents have a greenhouse in the boundary of the city. We spent a lot of time during our childhood; they had an amazing place where Collin and I passed such beautiful moments.

He was learning and helping, I was just observing and paying attention to the details, notebooks on my lap, taking notes.

I arrived around 7 pm, all the lights, most of them turned off.

I knocked before getting in, just the lights of the main office turned on, they left a small note.

 >We're in the one next to the big three.

I perk through the window seeing all the lights there on, I smirk, they love that place for sure.

As I walk the cold wind makes me shiver, but I notice something weird; the cold lights of always now are in warm lights.

“What are you do…” My words stuck in my mouth when I saw the lights coming from the back of the greenhouse.

As I walk in, small bouquets of flowers are situated along the main corridor, I narrow my eyes taking in one, it took me a couple of seconds realizing the bouquets are conformed of heartseases, opium poppies, bignonias and marigolds.

As I keep walking, I realize the back curtain is slightly open; the warm light coming from that spot, so I removed it carefully. 

He is there. 

Joe is standing surrounded by flowers and Christmas lights.

“Happy new year.” He smirks, extending his arms. 

Raising my hands full of bouquets he rolls his eyes. 

“I don't think about that.” Both of us laughed as I gave him an attempt to hug.

“That's why you've been so quiet these days, huh?” Joe barely replay one text, my eyes seeing lights all over the place, I understand why.

“Such nice people are your grandparents” I see a small table where I can leave all the bouquets. “And Collin that helps a lot too.”

That explains why my grandparents didn't call right away as they saw or heard Joe Burrow. “I couldn't make the dinner, I owe you that.”

“I feel lucky enough, I imagine you have been locked in the building since the very first hours of the day.” I put all my bouquets so I can have my arms free.

“Ha ha ha, so funny.” Joe clicks his tongue. “Come here please, I need your help.”

“Another wish? I can do that.” Joe narrows his eyes. “I'm in a row, 2 of 2.”

“That confident?” Joe nods.

I touch my jacket. “I'm healthy and warm and you already saw me.” 

“I mean wearing that black dress.” Tilting my head Joe bit his lips.

“Believe me Joe, you have to work a little bit harder to see that dress.” I know I pinch his pride for the way he pouts.

“Sounds like a bet. I like that.” He shakes his head and focuses one more time. 

Turning around he takes a small box. “You should light one candle, you know?”

“Omg, could you just open it?” I laughed, enjoying seeing him so exasperated.

I take the lid and see a small crystal ball, I scoff, imagine another flower, to my surprise it's just the small paper of the candle inside of it. 

“What is this? Should I break it?” Joe chuckles, twisting around the ball to open it. 

I unfold it, the number five in the corner.

 >Please say yes.

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” Joe asked, making my eyes focus on his face. 

My heart is beating fast enough to cloud any coherent answer.

“I know you probably think this isn't a serious thing, but for me this is so real, we just met for a short time, and… you have been a breath of fresh air every time I see you.” Joe scratches his chin. “I love flowers isn't a secret… you know what Ja’Marr asked me when a month passed since I met you?”

I shake my head. “Joe, how many flowers do you need?” Joe takes my hands one more. “My house was full of flowers, a bouquet in every corner, still, it takes me a lot to reach this point.”

“Joe… I… It's…” Dammit I can't form a phrase.

Joe squeezed my hand smiling at me. “Tak..”

“Where are the fourth and fifth candles?” I hit my temple on my mind. Really that's my answer?

Joe looks to his right at a small table, two candles are burning slowly with a gold glow.

“My fourth wish is please that I don’t shutter so much as I speak.” I cover my face with the crystal ball as I whisper. “What? I don't understand you.” 

“Oh my. Yes!” Joe takes the ball off my face. “Yes, yes, yes! A thousand times yes.” 

I jumped to hug him, he quickly lifted me from the ground, kissing me.

“No, no, put me down.” He raised his eyebrows. “I want to have a healthy QB to hug when you win the championship.”

“You're so...” I shut him down, kissing him tenderly. 

“I guess I have to rush all my preparations” My useless attempt to go down failed one more time.

“Rush?” I side eye to him as I notice dahlia between the small lights, so accurate, after all we are making a compromise.

I surround his neck with my arms. “I was thinking of moving to Cincinnati after summer.”

His eyes move from my lips to my eyes. “Now probably, just probably think of doing it sooner.”

Joe cleared his throat. “You know if you need a place to stay, I can make you a space in my house.” 

I give him a small peck, feeling his grip on my thighs trembling, not for the lack of strength just because he's trembling.

“Mhm, what about for quite a long time? I don't want to be the third wheel with Lilian.” Joe laughs, his rich laugh.

“Right, that will be awkward.” He fakes thinking. “Are you a good roommate?” 

I hit his chest softly. “You won't have any complaints.” 

One more kiss, this time more saccharine and consuming; I understand now what Lilian said, it's like we built a world just for us.

“I love to have you with me.” Joe smiles right to my lips.

I kiss his forehead. “Deal.” 

What a way of beginning the year, after all Mr. McNeil has right after all, love comes right through our door

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

A/N: Omg, I just took a more detailed view to the full series and I’m blown away by the response. Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed from the very first flower until the last. 🌸

I’m preparing something… special? or at least that's what I believe, anyway, wait for it! 

I’ll write to you soon!🍒

[elderberries-and-honey]

Dear Journal,

Daddy and I had a long talk, and last week I had my last day of school. He says I need to be brave and lead by example for my little sisters. He promised that if I do a good job, one of these days me, him and my sisters will do something special, just us four.

I will admit, though, I was quietly gloomy to be leaving. Daddy and Mommy sent me along with a note explaining the situation at home, and Ms Hoffman seemed awfully sad to hear about the news. She even allowed us ten extra minutes of recess on my last day.

I miss all of my friends back at school, but especially my two best friends, London and Gladys.

London is the sweetest boy in class, and the second smartest, next to Oscar. His Daddy is an engineer and is currently living abroad in America, helping build their railways; which London says is a 'VERY important job'. He also says someday, he'd like to study there but I try not to think about it too much because it would make me too sad to say goodbye.

My other best friend at school is Gladys. She is very funny and she doesn’t even care when Ms Hoffman threatens her with the ruler for talking too much! I think she is very brave for this. Her Mum and Grandad own the most popular bakery in town, Mrs Cole’s Bakery, and Gladys always brings Cozonac bread to share for the holidays.

London always insists on walking me home when Oscar and Atticus want to stay after school to play marbles with the other boys. He says he has no interest in games like that and would rather spend time with me, anyway, even when his friends tease him!

I asked Gladys about this once, and she got even more giggly than usual. She insisted that it's really because London has a crush on me! Oh, what a thing to say!

Even if Gladys is wrong, though, I don't think I would be sad. We are thick as thieves, no matter what. Which is why we have agreed to write each other letters and pass them back and forth between my brothers. I am still eagerly awaiting my first. 

- Florence Belle

[grlsbstshot]

Join us for the next chapter of NEON LIGHTS premiering sat.

(Don’t miss updates every Wednesday & Saturday for NEON LIGHTS, an original character fanfic. Chapters & Special Extras found on the masterlist. ) Until then...here's a special edition called the crash out.

Jamani: Already Over? By: Charity Sweet

Hollywood was rocked last night when singer-songwriters James Lucas and Imani were seen having a fiery confrontation at a star-studded party hosted by Sloane Lennox, daughter of music producer Ian Lennox. The couple, who recently returned from a romantic getaway in Italy, appeared anything but harmonious as tensions boiled over in front of stunned onlookers.

According to insiders, the argument began when Imani approached Jameson and Sloane during what seemed to be an intense conversation. Witnesses claim Imani flew off the handle at seeing the two friends in deep conversation. The tension escalated as Imani accused James of allowing Sloane to disrespect her, while James was seen trying to defuse the situation.

“It was uncomfortable to watch,” one attendee revealed. “Imani was visibly upset, and Jameson looked completely caught off guard. You could tell there’s a lot of unresolved tension between them.”

Despite their public displays of affection in recent weeks, sources close to the couple suggest that their relationship has been strained behind closed doors. “Italy may have been a Band-Aid,” one insider shared. “They’ve always had a passionate, tumultuous dynamic, but this fight felt different.”

Adding fuel to the fire, Lennox has been speculated as a former fling of Lucas'. Rumors of their close relationship have circulated for years, but fans are now speculating that Imani has asked James to choose between being with her and being friends with Sloane. Clearly her presence is causing friction between the pair.

Meanwhile, the two continued their argument outside the party. Imani left shortly after the altercation while Jameson stayed behind -- looking visibly shaken. Paparazzi captured him leaving much later, his expression grim as he avoided questions from reporters.

Fans have taken to social media to express their concerns about the couple’s future. “Don't know if I can root for Jamani anymore. They need to take us out of the group chat.” one user tweeted. Another added, “Imani making Jameson choose between her and his friend of over a decade? Not very ladylike or demure.” But they got a surprising response, "If a girl is making me uncomfortable and my man doesn't choose me, he's not my man anymore. VERY ladylike and demure."

Neither James or Imani have commented on the incident, but with their history of ups and downs, fans are left wondering: is this just another bump in the road, or the beginning of the end for Hollywood’s golden couple?

Stay tuned as this story develops.

Jameson's Holiday Crash Out

[midnight1nk]

So, this week's episode...

[spoilers below cut]

I KNEW IT!!! I knew that one of the two episodes left of the year had to be a holiday one aha!! *LE GASP* does that mean the last one will be sonic 3?

*nods* respect 👏

A Christmas special with TARI, oooh! and noticeably a shorter one too, huh. alright, let's-a GOOOOOOOO

(the following is my live reaction:)

aww, look at Tari being adorable (see that's how you get me, have my favorite characters do cute little hops and my life is yours)

bringing back the side characters LET'S GOOOO

CLENCH omg you're back I hope you can stay for the whole episode

ooooh tari's christmas list just dropped. hmmm let's see...

Saiko = KFC Theme Guitar (honestly slay) Mario = Spaghetti Necklace (whether he's going to wear or eat it, he'll enjoy it regardless) Kaizo = Scythe Polish Luigi = Gardening Kit SMG4 = Body Oder Spray (my man can't catch a break, "he stinks" canon) Belle = Nintendo Switch Case SMG3 = Dog Grooming Kit (for Eggdog awwww) Melony = How to draw Manga book (nice callback to "SMG4 and SMG3 Shop For Cursed Items" episode for Christmas shopping) Whimpu = Glasses Repair Kit Boopkins = Body Pillow Cleaning Kit (...) Bob = Karaoke Machine (that's actually sweet considering he is a rapper and the obvious choice would be a gun or smth, tari's a good friend) Rob = Corn Keychain

the cliche superhero transition *wheeze*

can I just say I love the fit Mario has on

1920's spaghetti?

i did not expect to see Sonic 06 (foreshadowing, eh?) and as a sonic fan, i gotta respect the hustle

now, i know it's supposed to be disgusting and you obviously have to put gross things here to convey that but... there's that eye imagery again.... *flashbacks ensue*

oooh Christmas party! I wanna see that!

aww tari did get clench a glove, maybe she didn't want to spoil the surprise too soon

also let's take a moment for that board in the bg:

"Random Text Here Shameless Advertising Happy Birthday smg4!" then something signed by a "Fan"

gotta love the small details

gonna be using this as a reaction pic for now on

Mario, don't you guys have a basement? pretty sure no one will grab the bag in there

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA OMG OMG THERE'S NO WAY THIS IS REAL THEY ACTUALLY USED CANTRO'S OUTFIT DESIGN FOR THIS EPISODE THAT'S AWESOME DUDE (am aware that the Team used the model before in a previous ep but it was only shown for a few seconds, this is BIG)

new merch, eh?

...i'll take your entire stock

Oh Tari, it's okay to say no. Four did ask if you had time

beautiful commercial....wha? Bob, da hell are you doing? oh the usual

charity? understandable, have a good day

PFFT HAHAHAHA that grenade bit somehow got me

oh Four somehow teleported outside, chair and all

*wheeze* the way they just latch on the back of the cop car like that

BOOPKINS? ...yeah I should've seen that coming. and he's on a toddler seat too

question for the people: is UNO a board game? if not, then boopkins, you got it wrong buddy

RIGHT NOW?! boopkins she's got her hands full

GEEZ even I'm getting stressed

gonna be real here: it was actually a good choice to have the plot at a faster pace just so we could feel Tari's stress rapidly building up

oh hey Meggy's matching with Mario (love that for the M&M siblings) but Saiko, girl, please get yourself a coat :( you're gonna freeze

OH GOD Tari, i need you to breathe please! all of this is stressing you out, it's okay to say no

...oh no

i can't look dude, i know Tari's technically fulfilling everyone's wishes but this isn't the way to go :(

C'MON TARI, HOPE YOU CAN MAKE IT IN TIME PLEASE

NO NO NO *flips table* oh poor Tari

OH NO CAN I GIVE HER A HUG PLEASE? *shakes my laptop screen* LET ME INNNNNNN

WTF NO SHE DOESN'T DESERVE THIS

TARI DON'T LISTEN TO THOSE VOICES IN YOUR MIND, YOU ARE A GOOD FRIEND

...three? let me turn the brightness up

yeah that's Four's model but for some reason has Three's voice and line.... huh... (I'll come back to this later)

dude, i literally had to pause and leave the room

fuck you got me tearing up. Team, is that what you wanted from me?

no tari, it wasn't your fault :( you didn't ruin anything

YES TELL HER, SAIKO

STAWP I'M THIS 🤏 CLOSE TO FULL-ON SOBBING WTF

FAMILY IS FOUND 👏👏👏

...wha? Three?

wait, this whole episode was you were retelling what happened to Tari, to Eggdog?

...that actually puts things in a whole new context (I'll talk about it later)

*gets hit by the book*

AY Congrats to Mango for your art being featured in the end credits! 🎉 what an awesome Christmas gift from the Team honestly

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

This was a fantastic Christmas special! This really punched me in the gut (but in a good way). Everything, as always, was amazing. Excellent job, Team!!! Too bad Clench couldn't be in the whole episode.

Oh Tari, my girl :( I felt the emotional rollercoaster along with her and I just wanted to give her a giant hug.

Me 🤝 Tari → people pleasers with a dose of abandonment issues

Tari, I've been there and I promise your friends aren't gonna leave you. What you can offer, what you're able to, that is worth something. It doesn't need to be material, just being a part of their lives is enough. No matter how big, because to them, it could mean a lot more than what you think.

It's what I've been struggling too, that the people who have approached me only wanted what I could offer, but not as a person. And it takes time to heal and open up again to people who are worth opening up to, but you'll get there.

So, to remind you (yes, the one behind the screen): you are enough. We are enough. What you do, means a lot more to other people than what you think. You'd be surprised how much a second of your presence means to people, and they value that. It's why it's okay to say no when you aren't able to, they'll understand if they truly do care for you. I promise, time will come around for you to find the good ones.

That's why I love this show. It isn't just a "silly meme show", it's so much more than that. Yes, it does have its funny moments but it can be emotional, dramatic, exciting. And even relatable. That's the point of stories. Like I said countless times before:

Every story, no matter how outlandish it seems, is grounded in reality.

That's why I'm glad this was one of the last episodes of the year, to bring it all back that it's a story that we all can relate to in some way. That we aren't alone. Grab each other by the hand and take one day at a time.

Oh boy, sorry for that emotional stuff. Just wanted to bring some comfort 💙 With that, I'm gonna bring back what was the most interesting of this episode: SMG3

It wasn't until the very end that we realized this whole episode was Three retelling Tari's story not only to Eggdog but also to Terrance.

(If I remember the layout correctly, right in the same nook above the fireplace is where Terrance's photo is placed)

So, yes, he is reading a bedtime story to both of his sons. (just gonna cry in the corner for a second) He's such a dad 🥺

Anyway, i shall put my theorist goggles on:

Back in the part when Tari was too late to buy the Crew presents and the voices in her head were bashing her for failing, we have SMG3 for some reason come in:

To be clear, that's Four's model (notice the lack of chip of the cap) but Three is the one saying: "And I thought I was evil..." Other than being the narrator, Three wasn't in the story, so the question is why?

The obvious would be that the Team simply made a mistake and forgot that they placed this in. Ok, sure, that's if it was on accident. But what if they did it on purpose?

As Three stated in the episode "Trash Friends", he truly believes he's "the worst version of SMG4"

Think about it: the basic roles for them are Four as the hero and Three as a villain.

If Three was ever in an episode all of a sudden is because he is the negative force of the story. Recall back to the episode "Meme Hunters" when Three was forced to be "the conflict" of the episode.

Now, it may seem harmless but to him, he was afraid to be perceived as nothing more than "SMG4's cheap and worst copy"

And also in "You Used to Be Cool", people have noticed when he does lay back a bit from the usual villain/rival role and bash him saying, "This isn't you."

Hero or villain, you're seen differently by everybody

Then there was the whole "moral of the story" part:

Ofc, it's a whole thing that Three refuses time after time that he's not friends with the Crew

Now with the context that we have, we just got a peek into Three's fears/insecurities. Basically: if he opens up and accepts that he has friends, they might try and take advantage of him. So, what should he do? Close himself off, be an asshole, and deny, deny, deny.

Despite risking literally everything, INCLUDING HIS OWN LIFE, for them, he's doing this to protect himself from emotional harm when he's the most vulnerable.

There's indeed a trope that villains, especially redeemed ones, would have a sense of empathy of some kind. They know what's like to hit rock bottom, it's why they can empathize with the people who least deserve it, like Tari. (Even with Four back in IGBP.) So yes, as much as this is a story about Tari, it also relates to Three.

How can you have what you want when you're the one holding yourself back?

Three: "I also need love, understanding, and tenderness." [IGBP movie, Spanish dub] Three: " I just want the USB in that spaghetti in your stomach so I can use it to gain fame and love that SMG4 has too much of, okay?!" Mario: "...Is that it? Silly SMG3, you could of just told Mario instead of suppressing your inner emotions and your fear of being forever forgotten." [Trash Friends]

I mean, look at the last episode, he was so happy to know he got fanart.

The pressure he has, the role he has to play, what he's perceived as. It all affects him. Sure, he doesn't care that he's not perceived as the standard definition of a villain but he is really as human as he can be, with fears and desires.

Another way to see the "failure" part of the episode is that Three could never see Four in a negative light. Sure, Four has made terrible mistakes but past the YouTube Arc, Three has never seen Four as a villain (again, the role of the hero thing). Four is flawed just as he is, but since he's the one telling Tari's story, he replaces Four with himself in the narrative.

It's not confirmed it's because he cares about Four in this instant but it's obvious he has done it on purpose. All because that's the role he plays, one he absolutely fears, "an evil and worst copy of Four".

(For all we know, he might've altered some other things in the story we haven't even known about.)

AND the fact that he's telling it like a bedtime story to his son(s) as a warning, so they don't go through what he went through when he was younger (his whole parenting of reminding them that they're loved and appreciated for even the smallest things)

So, long story short: me 🤝 Tari 🤝 SMG3 → underlining abandonment issues

I've been noticing that a lot of points from past episodes are starting to resurface again (like IGBP) and I do hope we get to bring back what's going on with Three. Then, we might get Three having the same conclusion that Tari went through: as much as he wants to deny it to protect himself, he'll realize that it's okay to be vulnerable and have friends.

And he'd be surprised how much of what he did was valuable to them. That what he seeks is already right in front of him. After all, he's already part of the Crew :)

He would just have to let himself avert his view and see the truth.

[lvnleah]

— rory’s trip to santa | our little love series 🎄

find the twelve days of Christmas masterlist here!

The Christmas fair was everything you’d imagined it would be—bright lights, the smell of sugary donuts, and a big, towering tree in the centre, decorated with sparkling baubles and glittering tinsel. You held tightly onto Beth’s hand, your other hand gripping Viv’s. 

You were currently in Whitby, the town that Beth had grown up in, for Christmas. You’d been here for a couple of days now and Christmas wasn’t far away. A Christmas fair was being held in town and you’d begged Viv and Beth to take you. Rich walked ahead, Rona running in front of him on her lead while Viv held Myle’s lead. 

“Look, Roo,” he said, crouching down to your level, “They’ve got candy canes!” You looked at the stall he pointed to and smiled a little but didn’t let go of Beth or Viv.

“It’s a bit much, isn’t it?” Beth said. She squeezed your hand, and you nodded without saying anything. 

It was a bit much—so many people, so much noise. The bright colours and loud music made your chest feel tight, but you didn’t want to say that out loud. You knew they’d brought you here to make it a special day.

Rich must’ve noticed, though, “How about something quieter to start? Let’s find Santa’s grotto, eh? Bet you’d like to meet the big man himself.”

“Santa!” You smiled, bouncing on the balls of your feet, “I wan’ tell him all about what I’d like for Christmas! Do you think he has my letter yet?”

Beth squeezed your hand. “I’m sure he does, Roo. But this is your chance to tell him in person, just in case the elves are still working on it. Can you remember what you asked for?

You nodded enthusiastically, your earlier nerves temporarily forgotten as you held Twix under your arm. “A colouring book,” you said confidently. “Some more friends for Twix, Barbie, princess stuff and uhh…sweets!”

Rich chuckled. “Well, let’s not keep Santa waiting, then.”

The grotto was tucked into a corner of the fair, surrounded by twinkling lights and fake snow. Other kids were waiting with their parents, some bouncing on their toes, others shouting about what they were going to ask for. You stayed a little closer to Beth, burying your face into her coat.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Beth said softly, crouching down so she was at eye level with you. She tucked a stray curl behind your ear and smiled. “It’s just Santa. He’s nice, promise. And me and Mamma will be right there with you.”

Viv crouched beside her, resting a hand on your back. “You don’t have to see Santa if you don’t want to, okay?”

You shook your head, “I wan’ tell him what I want for Christmas!”

“That’s okay,” Beth nodded, “but remember we can leave at any time.”

You nodded again, but your hands clung tighter to Beth’s hand as you shuffled forward in line. Rich stayed off to the side with Rona and Myle, chatting with one of his friends he’d bumped into. Viv and Beth tried to keep you distracted as you got closer to the grotto. 

Finally, it was your turn and you froze. 

You wanted to meet Santa. You wanted to tell him about Myle and Rona and the toys on your list. But your voice wouldn’t work, and your feet still didn’t want to move.

Beth must’ve understood. She held her arms out. “Want me to carry you in, Roo?”

You hesitated, then nodded. She scooped you up, holding you close as she walked into the grotto with Viv right behind. 

Santa smiled warmly, leaning forward just a little. “Well, hello there!” he said. “What’s your name?”

You buried your face in Beth’s shoulder as she sat down beside Santa with you on her lap. “This is Rory,” Beth said softly, her hand rubbing your back. “She’s been very excited to meet you.”

You peeked out from Beth’s chest, and Santa smiled at you. “Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Rory,” he said softly. “I heard you’ve been very good this year. Is that true?”

You nodded, just a little, clutching Twix tightly. 

“Thought so,” Santa said, leaning closer. “Do you have any special wishes this Christmas? Something you’d like me to bring?”

Beth gave you an encouraging squeeze. “You can tell him, sweetheart,” she murmured.

After a long pause, you whispered into Beth’s ear, just loud enough for her to hear. She smiled and looked back at Santa. “She says she’d like a new colouring book, something for her dogs, fairy and Barbie stuff and some more friends for her bunny Twix.”

“Wonderful choices!” Santa said, clapping his hands together softly. “I’ll make sure my elves know exactly what to pack for you. It was very nice to meet you. Would you like to pick an early gift from the box before you leave?”

Your eyes widened at the mention of an early gift. You looked at Beth, who smiled encouragingly, and then at Viv, who nodded. Slowly, you nodded too, your grip on Twix loosening just a little as Santa brought out a big red sack filled with small wrapped presents.

“Go on,” Beth said softly, shifting you a little so you could reach.

Your hand hovered over the pile of colourful wrapping paper, the crinkling sound of it making you giggle. After a moment, you picked a small, square gift wrapped in gold paper with a shiny red bow on top.

“That’s a good choice,” Santa said, his eyes twinkling. “I think the elves picked that one just for you!”

You held the present close to your chest, the nervousness in your tummy fading a little. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible but still brave enough to speak.

Santa chuckled softly. “You’re very welcome, Rory. Have a very Merry Christmas, and don’t forget to leave out some carrots for the reindeer!”

“I will,” you said, your voice a little louder this time.

Beth and Viv stood up, with Viv giving Santa a small wave as they turned to leave the grotto. Beth held you close, her cheek resting lightly on the top of your head. “You were so brave, Roo,” she whispered. “Santa’s going to be very impressed with you.”

Outside, the fair still buzzed with laughter and music, but it didn’t feel as overwhelming now. Rich was waiting nearby with Rona and Myle, his face lighting up when he saw you clutching your little present.

“Look at that!” he said. “What’d you get, Roo?”

“Are you going to open it, Roo?” Beth asked gently, her hand brushing a stray curl from your face as she set you down on the floor.

Rich moved closer, kneeling on the ground beside you. “Here, I’ll hold Twix for you while you unwrap it.”

Reluctantly, you passed your bunny to him, and he held Twix carefully. With both hands free, you carefully pulled at the bow, then peeled back the gold paper. Beth and Viv watched, smiling softly, as the wrapping fell away to reveal a small, colourful box.

“It’s crayons!” you exclaimed, your voice breaking into a delighted laugh. You held the box up in the air for everyone to see. 

“Wow, Roo!” Viv said, “You’re going to make some amazing pictures with those.”

Beth crouched down next to you. “You can use them with that big colouring book you asked Santa for, munchkin!”

You nodded eagerly, clutching the box tightly. “I’m going to draw all the dogs! Myle and Rona and…” You paused, “Maybe Santa’s reindeer, too.”

Rich chuckled, handing Twix back to you. “Sounds like a good plan, kiddo. That Santa knows what he’s doing, huh?”

Viv leaned over, brushing a kiss against the top of your head. “And you were so brave in there, Roo. I’m proud of you.”

“Hot chocolate next?” Rich asked, patting Rona as she barked softly at the suggestion.

“With marshmallows?” you asked, your excitement bubbling over.

“With marshmallows,” Viv promised, reaching for your hand.