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#also if you read this far what do you want for christmas this year for putting up with my insufferable rambling lol
evermore-fashion · 3 months
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Did I make a mistake?
As you're all well aware of I said goodbye to my blogs and Tumblr thinking my decision was final. However after reading all your wonderful messages I started to have doubts about my decision. So for the last few weeks I've been trying to pinpoint why I thought I had fallen out of love with high end fashion as well as Tumblr itself and the answer has been in front of my face for the best part of four years. A broken down friendship that has been plaguing my mental health… until recently and I'm going to finally explain why. I had a best friend for the best part of 15 years that went downhill both slowly and unexpectedly. We met on a forum back in 2005 and hit it off instantly. We then met up and went on various holidays, attended concerts together, did mini weekend breaks away and got to know each other's families really well. More importantly they were the only person in my life who knew about this blog and shared my love for high end fashion. Like most friendships though it had its ups and downs but no matter what we always gravitated back towards one another, until March 2020. A week or so before COVID and lockdown took hold of our lives they told me they had met someone. I was genuinely happy for them, except for the fact they had let slip that I was the last person to know. This broke my heart and their trust as they continued to let slip more details that indicated that I was being pushed out in favour of a new crowd (aka university friends who they had told me they disliked a few months beforehand) alongside their new partner. They stayed with their partner on and off throughout COVID and I was either pushed out the door or let back in depending on their relationship status. The relationship came to an end for good towards the end of 2022 and as always I was let back into their life with plans for 2023 being made. However I held back knowing the hurt it would cause me if things suddenly changed again. This was also my breaking point with them as I wanted to protect my heart from anymore hurt, and I believe this is where my love for creativity began to faulter. Whilst I found my love for gaming I felt this mental block around Evermore-Fashion and Evermore-Grimoire which I thought was down to my passions changing. I was clearly wrong. The friendship was up and down for another six months, until last summer. They had got back in contact with me despite the fact they had started acting cold towards me which manifested in a crap Christmas and Birthday. Yet I was still willing to hear their side of the story, but it never came as they ghosted me and I haven't spoken to them since which hasn't been fun to deal with both mentally and emotionally. Although I now fully believe this is what was killing my spirit and everything I had loved for so long. Anyway fast forward to January 2024, I've said goodbye to my blogs and Tumblr when lo and behold I come across a social media post that changed everything. The ex friend had written something personal that contradicted everything they had told me (over their relationship break up) which not only angered me but it lit a fire under my butt to stop stewing in the "what ifs?" as well as holding on to a small bit of hope that they'd finally apologise for treating me like a piece of shit on the back of their shoe for so long. Not only that but I started to miss why I enjoyed being online in the first place. I checked out Vogue to see what was occurring during Paris Fashion Week and I yearned to share the Spring 2024 Couture collections on Tumblr (even though I still think it's still a toxic cesspit). Yes I could easily start this up on Wordpress or Instagram but let's face it, Tumblr is still the easiest place to start blogging creatively. So here I am. The fog surrounding my love for fashion has lifted alongside the mental and emotional baggage I've been holding on to for far too long. There's just one thing I'm still wondering though… do you guys forgive me (as I feel like I've messed you all around ) and is it okay to come back? 🥹
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warnersister · 15 days
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Personal Space (two Bradshaws like it now)
Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader
Summary: A sequel in which you love your personal space. Unfortunately, Bradley also loves your personal space. Even more so now you’ve had a baby, apparently.
Can be read as a part 2, but doesn’t have to be. Read Personal Space here
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You really didn’t know when it all happened, when you and Bradley became a thing. At first he was just an annoying crew member you couldn’t shake off your tail. Then he was your wingman. Then you got accidentally placed into marriage accommodation and the two of you played it off so you could get better housing. Then you actually bought a house. And then somewhere along the way you got married.
“Where shall we have the wedding?” Bradley asked and you raised a brow “register office” you shrug “what you don’t want a wedding?” He asks, hand on his chest as he feigns offence. “You do?” You ask and he nods vigorously. You huff. “Fine” “so shall we do it on the beach?” He asks “okay” you just go along with it, hardly even entertaining the idea at all.
“So? What do you think?” Nat asks as she makes you pivot in a white gown “I think I look like a roll of toilet paper” you said, crossing your arms “maybe it’s just not the dress for you?” She reasons and you shake your head “just not really into the whole idea of this wedding. I kinda thought we’d just sign papers and get on with it” you said “well you picked Bradshaw, he’s a drama queen at the best of times” she says and you him in agreement; your consultant leading you back to the fitting rooms “let’s try another”.
You’d left with a sleeved dress; hating the idea of having a low cut dress, and begging Nat to just let you leave. Sure, you loved the dress - but you loved the idea of getting out of that suffocating shop more.
“Hey honey” Bradley had said, hearing you walk into the house and set your keys on the kitchen counter. “Hi” you reply shortly, moving to fill your cup with water from the sink. “How was your day?” He asked, moving to rest his head on your shoulder and holding you from behind. “Good. Bought a wedding dress” you say simply “you did what?!”
Then on your wedding day, you’d stared at yourself in the mirror far too long. “You look gorgeous” Penny whispers, squeezing your shoulders comfortingly “I look like a fucking pin up doll” you huff, not necessarily believing yourself - just not used to being such a central perspective of attention. “Wow” your dad says, walking into the room “you look gorgeous” he whispers “is there an echo in here?” You mumble, but smile at him “thank you” you say, wiping the tears from under his eyes. “C’mon, Bradley’s nearly about to come get you himself”
You showed up to the beach-front wedding right on time, completely dead against the idea of being in any way, shape, or form late. Your father gave you away, Bradley in floods of tears at the end of the isle by the time you’d gotten there. “You look incredible” he whispers, lips quivering as he stares at you “shut up you’re going to make me cry.” You grumble, but smile. “It’s okay to cry.” He says, as the ceremony begins. “You may now kiss your bride” and Bradley dipped you and kissed you sweetly, drowning out the cheers of those around you. “I love you, Bradshaw.” You say, smally, “I love you more, sweetheart” he says and kisses your forehead “you’re crying” he points out “shut up”
And then you looked at the two lines on the pregnancy test two years later. You hummed “okay” and looked at yourself in the mirror, knowing nothing else other than the fact that you had to tell Bradley right that second. You marched downstairs, where he was sat playing with some keys on the piano you’d bought him last Christmas, stopping next to him. “Hey baby, y’alright?” He asked, and you just held out the stick to him. “What’s this?” He asks, taking it from you and looking over it once. “You serious?” He asked, looking at you; smile growing from ear to ear “you’re pregnant?” He almost whispers “unless the other four lied.” you say and he jumps up and pulls you into his arms, kissing all over your face until you shouted at him to stop.
He knelt down and looked at your stomach, kissing it gently then moving to put his ear against it “uh huh” he hummed “Bradley what are you-” “shush I’m talking to em” he says and you stand, unimpressed, but let him nonetheless. “Oh yeah baby, I’m excited to meet you too” he coos “yeah, yeah, I’m your dad” and you audibly giggle. He looks up at you, eyes wide “you done?” You ask and he nods “yeah little one was done talking” he smiles, and hugs you close again. “I need to get the baby clothes out of the attic” he mumbles, kissing your temple “the what?” You ask “I bought them when we started renting the house!” He says, dragging you excitedly up the stairs “but we own the house, Brad” you him “no, no, the one we had during the mission!” He says and you gasp internally, realising how long the two of you had been together without even noticing it.
“Hey dad” you say, as you and Bradley head into the hangar he and you owned “hey honey, hey Brad” your dad greets, wiping the oil from his hands to come over and talk to the two of you. He kissed your forehead and hugged you, then your husband before walking back over to the aircraft he was working on. “Thought you needed a new picture for your pinboard” you hum “oh? I just added the wedding photo!” He says, excitedly, showing you the filled gap. “Okay, guess you don’t want the sonogram of your grandchild.” You say, turning to head out before Bradley hurriedly grabbed you and turned you back into the situation, pulling the strip of photos from his breast pocket. Your dad stood with his jaw wide open “you’re-” he breathes “you’re really pregnant?” He asks as his eyes well with tears “well I wouldn’t lie-” you say but he just pulls you into a big bear hug, pinning Baby Bradshaw’s picture onto his board.
You head to go look at the part of the engine your dad couldn’t quite fix while Bradley held back with Maverick. He turns to him and shakes his hand “your dad would’ve been so proud.” He says, smiling at Bradley “I know you are.” Rooster smiles, wordlessly being pulled into a hug with his father-in-law.
Then one evening you were sat up in bed, Bradley sound asleep beside you as you look down at the barely visible bump. Bradley had sort of a sixth sense, somehow knowing you weren’t asleep beside him. “Hey, baby what’s up?” He croaks, immediately moving to sit up with you when he sees his senses were correct. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, Bradley.” You say, staring ahead at the wall “what do you mean?” He asks, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “I mean I’m a fighter pilot, I was raised by a single father, I never had that maternal instinct, what am I doing?” You whisper, and when Bradley managed to finally pull your face towards him you were crying “oh sweetheart” he hums, pulling you into him gently “you’re gonna be the best momma ever, and the fact that you worry proves that. I love you, okay?” He comforts “I know. I love you too.”
You were stubborn the whole pregnancy. You thought it was ridiculous that people just stopped when they were pregnant, and Bradley was trailing you trying anything to get you to just relax. “Hen, please!” He begs as you head out for your morning run “I’m three months pregnant, Bradley. I’m not incompetent.” You snap, as he begrudgingly pulls on his running shoes and follows you out the door. He pulled you back anytime you went quicker than a 10 minute mile “Bradley, if you slow me down one more time I’m going to pull your arm out of your socket” you snap and he holds his hands up “message received.”
Then one day, at around the sixth month mark you walked into the house and slammed the door so hard it rattled. “What’s up?” Bradley asked, as you practically threw your stuff on the floor. “They’re putting me on the desk.” You grumble, anger evident in your eyes while his soften “oh baby we knew that was gonna happen” he soothes, rubbing your arm reassuringly “no! No we didn’t! I was perfectly fine hiding the bump, but no!” You huff “I’m Bradley Bradshaw and all of California has to know my wife’s pregnant!” You imitate him but he just smirks “oh I’m so sorry that everyone needs to know you’re taken and carrying my baby” he says, smugly. “Don’t you smile at me Bradley-” you wag an accusatory finger at him, but he heaves you over his shoulder, and towards the stairs “c’mon, let’s help you blow off some steam” he reasons “y’know it’s possible to get pregnant while pregnant, right?” You ask and he cheers “woohoo! Two for one deal, sounds great!” He says and you can’t help but smile.
Then came your maternity leave, Bradley picked you up in his bronco. You were quick to head outside, and he kinda hated how well you hid the bump. “I’m done.” You huff, settling into the seat beside him “if that bitch from accounting asks me one more time if I want her herbal teas I’m going to knock her teeth out” you complain and Bradley chuckles “well, just me, you and Baby Bradshaw now” he says and you hum in agreement.
But when you approached your street, you rolled straight past your house and straight to the Hard Deck ‘congratulations on your baby’ banners plastered all over “welcome to our baby shower!” Bradley grins as you pull up “is this really necessary? They aren’t even here yet.” You tell him and he shrugs “thought it might take your mind off maternity leave” you smile at him “thanks, Brad”
And at one point in the evening, you sat Natasha and Bob down separately. “Hey Phoenix, can we borrow you?” Brad asked, pulling her away from her conversation “yeah of course guys!” You took a seat at a table and Bradley forced you to elevate your feet against your will. “What’s up?” She asks “how’d you like to be godmother to little Bradshaw?” Her eyes lit up when Bradley asked and she leant over the table to hug the two of you “oh I’d love too!” She announces, excitedly.
Then you head over to Bob, but Phoenix holds Rooster back “they have a special connection, let her do this”. You sit on the stool next to Bob and he offers you some peanuts which you refuse, and you stay sat in silence for a minute. “Bob can I ask you something?” You ask, as he pulls your calves up to rest in his lap “of course, hen” he says, brushing some crumbs off his top “what’s up?” “Well, the job we’re in isn’t an old job” you say and he laughs and agrees “it’s also dangerous” you say, and again - he nods. “So if anything happens to me and Brad, can you be there for little Bradshaw?” His eyes widen and start to swell with tears “will you be our godfather?” You ask and he nods, moving to miss your cheek “of course I will, hen. I’d be honoured.”
Bradley and you had started putting together your hospital bag at the 8 month mark. You were both premature so had a bit of superstition, especially with only being a few weeks off of the 40 mark. You’d placed the bag by the front door, along with a baby carrier in the middle seat of his Bronco.
It was week 38 when you were both putting together the crib beside your bed, two spare bedrooms and still you only wanted your baby beside you. “Okay all done, baby” your husband said “okay. My water broke three minutes ago” you say as calmly as he had, he nods, then whips his head back round “your water broke?” He asks and looks down, and indeed, your water had broken “oh my god your water broke?!” He announced, picking you up bridal style and carrying you out to the bronco, picking the hospital bag up on the way. “Ready to have a baby?” He asks, giddily. “Am I supposed to be?” You ask and he shakes his head with a smile “no”
You were dead silent during birth and it scared the shit out of Bradley. “Do you want an epidural, honey? They’ve offered-” “no.” “Can I get you more ice?” “No.” And he tried everything, even when it was time to push. You held his hand and your mouth was zipped shut. “Is she supposed to be this quiet?” He asked the doctor who just looked at him nonchalantly “it’s normal, all mothers react differently to birth” he said. “I’m a fighter pilot Bradley. I’ve had worse.” You grit. “Breathe baby” he tells you “I think you need to.” You say “stop being dramatic” you say as you push again “honey-” “either shut up or get out.” You tell him and he glues his mouth shut, at least until the baby comes.
Bradley cuts the chord and they hand you your baby, and your eyes widen as you stare at the baby on your chest “welcome to the world Nick Bradshaw” you coo at the baby and Bradley raised his brows “Nick?” He asks, voice cracking “what? Got a problem with that? You and your stupid dick” you grumble and Bradley laughs and shakes his head, kissing your forehead.
“Hey mom, shall we take baby so you can get some rest?” The nurse asked, leaning to take Nick from your arms “excuse me?” You asked, pulling your baby closer. “So you can sleep?” She suggests “I’ve carried him for nine months and now he’s here you’re taking him away?” You ask “well, some mothers like to sleep” “I can sleep when I’m dead.” You deadpan, and she realised that Nick wouldn’t have been pried from your hands even if you were dead, so she left you all alone.
“Taking you away from mommy? Who does she think she is?” You whisper to baby Nick. “Welcome back to the world, Bradshaw.” You say and Bradley can only smile and hold the two of you close.
You’re going to be just fine in this mommy role.
——————————
Part 2-ish? I know it was really well liked and I enjoyed writing it so hope you enjoy this one too!
-> @rosiahills22 here’s another one!
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struniolos · 5 months
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guitar lessons.
chapter one; does he take care of you?
(you can read chapter two here!)
synopsis: you decided to take guitar lessons from your boyfriend nate’s best friend, chris, while he’s away at college. but one night, things go too far. loosely based off the song sex by the 1975.
warnings: suggestive, heavy petting.
what the fuck where you doing.
the freezing winter breeze hit the back of your neck and tips of your ears, as you knocked your heavy boots onto the porch to rid of the snow caked beneath them. it was late, the dim porch light and streetlights your only source of illumination. winters in boston were relentless, and besides the fact you had lived there your entire life, you’d never be used to it’s cold bite. it was almost as if mother nature was punishing you, and well, it was pretty justified.
you had found yourself on a familiar doorstep, one you’d been to many times, but usually with your boyfriend nate at your hip- your safety net. chris, nick and matt had been friends with nate for years and you had known the boys since highschool. you’d consider them friends, but not really your friends. they were kind, but you’d much rather hang out with your own friends. the only reason you were usually dragged along was because it was some of the only times you could be with nate. now that he was in college, an hour drive away, things had become incredibly hard between you.
it was only a passing comment you made, last week, that had gotten you into this. a regular night of driving around aimlessly with nate, the boys, and you had mentioned how you wanted to learn guitar. of course, chris had piped up to say he’d teach you, and stupidly you agreed. it god, what would nate do if he knew you were here? what was wrong with you? it was 8pm on a tuesday, you should be in bed.
you rap your knuckles on the christmas wreathe adorned door, and step back to quickly hugging your hands around yourself, your shaky breath coming out as soft puffs of smoke. the door cracked open slowly, revealing chris in a black hoodie with words you couldn’t read scribed onto it, grey sweatpants and clunky brown ugg boots.
“you made it.” he smiled, running a hand through his floppy hair.
“i did.” you smiled back, as he opened the door wider to let you in.
you knocked your boots a few more times at the door before kicking them off.
“you look great.” chris commented, seemingly just being polite.
you smiled back awkwardly, shuffling your socks on the floorboards. “oh, thanks.”
“fuck, it’s cold out there isn’t it?” he commented, as he began to walk you down the hallway. it was adorned with photos of the boys, their family and friends, that you presumed their mother had hung. you’d been here so many times, but this time it felt like you were really present, and not just following the leader. you found yourself observing much more than you usually had.
“yeah, it’s insane.” you agreed, as you both walked through the empty kitchen and dining area, with all of the lights switched off.
you wondered if nick and matt were already asleep, or if they were out and would come home any moment to see you alone with their brother. you also wondered if his parents were away, or if they too would come home to find you with their son, your boyfriend nowhere to be found. god, you didn’t even want to think about it.
you both quietly walked up the stairs and towards his room, which was the last one down the very end of the hallway. you had never been in his room, the usual hangout spot was always the living room. you felt so guilty, as you head into his room hesitantly behind him. chris’ room wasn’t what you had expected, it was quiet and cozy, a juxtaposition of himself. his double bed was shoved in the corner, with plain black sheets, and a desk beneath the window with a matching drawer set on the opposing wall, his guitar lay against the wall beside his them.
“so, did nate end up convincing you to come?” he asked, breaking the thick silence between you.
nate doesn’t know i’m here. you thought, biting your lips.
“no, actually. it was all me.“ you tell him, kicking your feet awkwardly.
“huh, i didn’t think you’d come.” he said, grabbing his guitar.
“me neither.” you chuckle awkwardly, “but thanks for doing this though, i really appreciate it.”
“all good.” he says calmly, “i did promised i’d teach you.”
“you did.” you repeat, smiling at him. you watched the way his hair was falling softly over his eyes, and he had to keep pushing it back with his hand.
chris handed you the guitar, and you sat down on the edge of his bed. you balanced it on your thigh, “is this how i hold it?”
“yeah, just make sure it’s pressed a little closer to you.” he explains, sitting down beside you. you do as he says, pressing the instrument close to your stomach, trying to get used to the feeling.
“so, how about you give me a song you want to learn and we’ll start there. one with easy chords if you can.” chris says, his voice slightly softer than usual. you wondered if it’s because he was tired, or if he truly was being patient with you, as you’d never seen him so calm.
you think for a moment, back to the songs you were listening on the drive to his house. “do you know fade into you? by mazzy star?”
“yeah that’s a good one, just give me a second to work it out.” he says, pausing as he looked to the ceiling and waved his finger around as if he was writing imaginary chords and trying to piece it together in his mind.
you admired him up close now, as you had never been able to. you always saw him in conjunction with his brothers, but never alone. you noticed how his nose differed and was slightly more button like, and his lips were plump and fuller, his hair a little darker.
“okay, that’s not too hard, but i’ll try and make it as easy as i can. you’re only going to be using C, D, G and Am’s.” he told you, and it took everything in you not to melt on the spot. god, what was wrong with you? you inhaled deeply, finding your composure.
“here, it might be easier if i show you first.” he says, softly taking the guitar from you and placing it in his own lap. he held it much more comfortably than you, and he grabbed the pick that was between the strings at the neck. he held it between his teeth briefly, as he tuned the guitar. his hair fell over his eyes once more, and you were grateful for this as he wouldn’t see you gawking at him.
eventually, he started to strum the first chords. “watch how my fingers are placed on the neck, that’s the important part.”
chris began to play the familiar opening of the song, and you’re completely mesmerised. you watched his lips mouth the words softly under his breath, as if he didn’t notice he was completely lost in the song. you sat with your legs crossed, facing him fully, and rested your chin on your palm. he looked so at peace, like this was what he truly loved doing. you knew this is how nate felt with hockey, and it made you remind yourself just how insane you were acting.
he abruptly stopped by holding his palm on the strings to stop them, and looked up at you to meet your eyes. you blinked at him, blankly.
“you alright?” he asked with a smirk tugging his lips.
you nod, looking away from him. “yeah just, out of my depth i think.”
“it’s cool. what if i show you like this-“ he starts, reaching over to put the guitar back in your lap. he crawled around to sit behind you, but his legs were crossed, establishing a boundary. one you secretly wished wasn’t there.
you could feel his breath on your neck, and the cold winter breeze was a thing of the past. he peered over your shoulder to look down at your hands on the guitar, and began to move them into place. “you’ve got to hold the strings like this.”
it was so intimate, and you couldn’t help but wish things where like this with you and nate. the way chris was so tender with you, so patient, not that nate wasn’t- things were like this, at the start. but you felt you’d grown so distant, and things didn’t get you hot and bothered like they used to. but this, this made you think thoughts you wish you could bury deep down into the pits of your stomach.
chris assisted your hands in strumming the chords, explaining to you which chord was which as you moved your fingers against the strings. his hands were so warm, so inviting, his fingers long and slender and-
“are you getting this?” chris asked, breaking you from your daze.
“um, not really.” you said bashfully, ducking your head. “i’m sorry, i just…”
chris sighed heavily, removing his hands from yours and coming around to sit beside you once more so that you were face to face on the edge of his bed.
he pursed his lips, furrowing his eyebrows. “why did you really come? because it seems to me you’re not here for guitar lessons.”
your eyes went wide, and you began toying with the guitar strings mindlessly. “i did, it’s just…”
“it’s okay, you can tell me.” he urged, and you felt your stomach drop in guilt.
“i…” you begin, but couldn’t articulate yourself. “i don’t know.”
you placed the guitar onto the ground, sighing. “i’m sorry, i guess i just wanted company.”
“is everything okay? is it nate?” chris questioned, rubbing his face.
“no, nate’s great it’s just…” you pause, truly unable to string together a sentence. not with chris in front of you, so beautiful yet so unknowing.
“are you…not being taken care of?” he asked, his voice low.
there was a thick pause between you before you answered. “how do you mean?”
“you know exactly what i mean.” chris said in a knowing manner, tilting his head.
“i’m not talking about this with you.” you huffed, trying your best to act nonchalant. to make invisible boundaries for yourself, as you weren’t so sure how long you could hold it together.
he tutted, rolling his eyes. “why?”
“i’m fine, he’s only an hour away. we have phone sex like, all the time anyway.” you were blatantly lying at this point. there was something deeply wrong, or you wouldn’t be seeking out attention elsewhere. here.
chris chuckled, crossing his arms. “i might not be a smart guy but i can tell you’re frustrated. you’re looking at me like you’re going to pounce me any moment.”
you scoffed, although he was right. “what? you’re delusional.”
“am i?” he said, smirking. he was enjoying this. and a sick twisted part of you was too.
you groaned, running your hands down your face. “i feel so stupid talking to you about this.”
“it isn’t stupid.” he assured you, “now spit it out, what’s wrong?”
chris was ridiculously convincing when he wanted to be. just like how he had roped you into coming tonight. there was something about him so deliciously dangerous, that made you question your sanity and morals.
you let out a heavy sigh before you spoke. “it’s been months.”
there was a pause, as chris widened his eyes at you once he realised what you were talking about. “months?”
“yes. it’s never been this long, but i guess it’s because he lives so far now.” you explained, your cheeks flushing at the thought. things with nate used to always be so fun, you would sleep together multiple times a week, never be apart- but lately? you felt like you’d been left behind.
“do you think it’s because he’s busy with college?” chris asked, surprising you with how seriously he was taking you.
“yeah, i mean he’s trying so hard, and there are scouts at nearly every game now so he’s thing even more. then when he’s got college break and drives down here, i think by the time he sees me he’s just exhausted.” you blurt out, beginning to feel a little less weight on your chest like it had been holding you down to keep all of this inside.
chris nods, and reaches towards you to touches your back, “it’s alright, i mean i’m sure it’s nothing against you…he’s just busy.”
“i know, but that’s the problem. i never see him, and when i do he never wants to go out or do anything because he’s always so tired. if he’s not training he’s playing, and if it’s not that he’s studying, and it takes up all of his time.” you complain, but are soothed by the feeling of his hand circling your back.
“that’s a shame, for a girl like you…” chris trailed off, like he knew if he kept talking he would be crossing the line. but the lines were blurred at this point, anyway.
his hand slowly trailed down to your lower back, the thick material of your sweater a barrier to his soft touch that you ached for more of. it was so reckless of you, to be revelling in another man’s touch- but it felt so good.
“i could make you feel good.” he continued in a subtle whisper, biting his lips as he gave you a once over, your body is basking in the warmth of his gaze. this was wrong, so so very wrong.
“chris.” you warned him, as he brought his other hand to clasp over yours which rested on your thigh.
your breath was slightly disturbed, stuttering in your throat. god, why did this have to feel so good?
chris’s hand that was on your back now trails upwards to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. you hadn’t noticed how close he was, but hated how much you loved him invading your space.
“he doesn’t have to know.” he told you, brushing your hair away from your neck, his breath fanning your skin.
“i cant.” you croaked, as he slowly pressed his warm lips to the skin behind your ear.
it’s as if your brain shut down and your body took over, letting out a soft moan as chris kissed your skin, then continuing down to the junction of your neck and shoulder. he pulled your sweater to the side, giving him better access.
“hmm, chris we can’t.” you protested, a hand coming to rest on his shoulder gently.
“shhh.” he hushed as he pulled away from you, locking eyes. “let me take care of you.”
you looked at him with so much pain, yet so much longing. he held your face gently in his hands, stroking your cheek. “he won’t know.”
chris pressed his lips to yours softly, and you let yourself sink into his arms. he helped you onto his lap, your kisses becoming feverish and desperate yet still passionate. you found your hips slowly grinding down onto his, earning deep moans and slightly more aggressive kisses. you rolled your hips down onto his growing hardness, the friction through your clothing feeling euphoric.
chris pulled away for a moment, combing your hair back with his fingers so he could look at you. his eyes were dark, pupils blown and his lips glistening and plump.
“you’re so pretty.” he mumbled, “you’ve always been.”
you wanted to die, having this beautiful man beneath you at your mercy but a loyal boyfriend waiting for you only an hour away. your mind was becoming fuzzy, blurring what your body needed and what was right. you suddenly pulled away completely, getting off his lap and holding a hand to your forehead.
“i’m sorry…i…i cant do this.” you confessed, shaking your head.
chris opened his mouth to speak, but you didn’t allow him- darting out of his room quickly and running down the stairs. your breathing was so loud it was in your ears, your heart thumping in your throat and the walls feeling as if they were closing in on you. you grabbed your boots and burst out the front door, trudging through the thick snow in your socks. you threw your shoes into the passenger seat and jumped into your car at record speed, quickly starting the ignition. chris didn’t follow you.
you drove home in complete silence, your breathing becoming more rapid and the world feeling as though it was going to collapse around you. you got home and made a beeline for your room, changing into your pyjamas at record pace. guilt riddled you as you crawled into bed, cuddling yourself under the sheets and hiding from everything and everyone. you just wanted to stay there and rot.
you found yourself texting chris, wanting to have proof that you declined. that nothing else happened. that you ran away.
you: i’m sorry, that shouldn’t have happened.
it was only a few moments before he texted you back.
chris: no it shouldn’t have.
you: that can’t happen again.
chris: not until next time.
your eyes widened, no, no no! this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. he was supposed to have regretted it to, and want tp bury the memory deep down. you ignored him, laying your phone next to your head as you tried to close your eyes, hoping it would go away. until your phone buzzed, lighting up.
chris: meet me at mine tomorrow, 8pm?
your stomach dropped, and you held your face in your hands as you let out a silent scream. no, you couldn’t encourage this. but nate was an hour away, how would he know? it could only be while he’s away, then when he gets back you could pretend nothing happened! oh god, you were going to hell.
you: okay.
(chapter two.)
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lovelyhan · 8 months
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— 505 ⟢
i'd probably still adore you with your hands around my neck; or i did, last time i checked.
★ FEATURING; joshua x afab!reader
★ WORD COUNT; 3.4k words
★ TAGS; coworkers au, friends with benefits, typical gentleman in the streets sexual deviant in the sheets joshua, a hint of pining if you squint, slight angst?, smut (MINORS DNI)
★ NOTES; this specific picture of shua is years old but it incited the most visceral reaction out of me anyway so here we are with another short oneshot that sidetracked me from the monster that i'm SUPPOSED to be writing :| this also turned out a bit more emotional(?) than i originally intended, so heads up on that i guess
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★ SMUT TAGS; unprotected sex, shower sex, oral (f receiving), choking, slight dumbification (i'm sorry, i normally have more dignity than this but i miss him so so dearly)
★ PERMANENT TAGLIST; @cheolhub - @pretty-trustme - @just-here-to-read-01 - @idkmelkro - @dejavernon - @venusrae - @jyiiscool - @jiniesclub - @junhui-recs - @bldelaine - @featmia - @fruitzcup - @hoeforhao - @candidupped - @billboard-singer - @caratochan - @novalpha - @dahliatopia - @0717luv - @shiveringgaze - @toruro - @mixling-blog - @minnie-mouser22 - @homerunhansol - @mirtaspace - @ti-red - @zzucculent - @woozarts - @rubyreduji - @mozellerra - @lllucere - @cheolzip - @jjjzzzz - @lissiesykes - @jeonride - @meowmeowminnie - @colored-confetti - @partiallyinfluencial - @speaknowlwt - @flwrshwa - @lilylikesthat - @aurorahongg - @whippedforjihoon - @todorokiskitten - @immabecreepin
★ JOSHUA TAGLIST; @yoonzinoooo - @scandal-in-bohemia - @lunaryoongie
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Joshua arrives five minutes after the first clap of thunder and ten minutes after the rain started pouring outside.
You hear him before you see him. The automatic lock of the hotel room turns as he scans the spare keycard from outside — one that you made sure to leave with the receptionist in the lobby when he told you he'll be running a little late. When the door swings open, light spills from outside and he greets you with a smile that makes his eyes crinkle and your heart stutter.
It's the same look that makes your female coworkers swoon and giggle to themselves in the office pantry — talk about Joshua's adorable eye smile never straying too far from your ears.
If they knew what kind of person he was past the usual pleasantries, would they still engage in that kind of fanfare?
Joshua is soaked all over when he enters, having tracked rainwater all over the carpeted hallway and into the floor of Room 505. He doesn't seem all too fazed by it though — quickly shrugging off his coat before hanging it behind the flimsy plastic hooks screwed to the back of the door. He shuts it behind him with a kick, sighing through his teeth as he loosens the coil of a sushi-patterned necktie around his collar.
You got that one for him as an exchange gift for last year's Christmas party. Joshua uses it a lot more frequently than you expected him to. In fact, he always wears it during casual Fridays. You're not sure if he actually likes the stupid necktie or he's just trying to get a reaction out of you, but his choice to wear it isn't lost on you either way.
"Team dinners are really something else," Joshua chuckles as he tosses the flimsy material atop the complimentary dining table. He cards his fingers through his damp hair and you try not to think of how good he looks as he does it.
"You should've come with us. It's not often that you see Manager Yoon convince Jihoon to down a shot of soju. Oh, Seungkwan also got his ass handed to him at karaoke with the girls from sales. I had no idea Jihyo could hold her high notes like she means business."
You don't take a bite at his feeble attempt at small talk. He knows damn well why you don't show up to any of Jeonghan's team dinners, but you tell yourself that Joshua's just being polite — still thinking of the outcast of the marketing department despite the fact that you do not want anything to do with the people you work with.
...Although there are some exceptions here and there.
"Really? You're just going to give me the silent treatment all night?" Joshua sighs dramatically as he unbuttons his dress shirt — baring his rain-beaded chest to your unwitting gaze. "Well, if you need a bit more time, I'll go hop in the shower first. You're free to join me if you'd like."
He knows you won't, so you find it strange that he offers each and every time anyway.
You let your gaze wander to the full length mirror attached to the cabinets once the door to the bathroom clicks shut. There's nothing remotely special about your getup tonight. You're still donned in your work clothes — brick gray pencil skirt with a brick gray blazer to match. Apart from the heels sitting on the rack near the door, you're pretty much still in uniform.
You had half the mind to go home and change when Joshua said he's going to dinner and karaoke with your boss and some other colleagues, but that would mean you actually cared about what you looked like in front of him.
Which, for the record, you don't.
You can hear Joshua singing a familiar song in the bathroom — one that he always belts out in the most annoying way possible every time he showers. You wonder if he even knows any other song apart from that, but tell yourself you don't really have any business asking.
As the near-silence persists, however, your thoughts start to wander. Did he also sing this song when he was at karaoke earlier? Did he get to duet the high notes with Jihyo? You wouldn't put it past either of them to do so — being two of the company's renowned social butterflies.
That train of thought brings forth the same question you've been asking ever since the first night you shared this hotel room with Joshua and found him still lying beside you in the morning:
Why'd he choose you?
You're an in by nine and out by five unless there's paid overtime kind of employee. You never bothered establishing any worthwhile friendships in the workspace because you know better than to trust the backstabbing fiends in the corporate ladder. You're perfectly aware of what other people say about your individualistic behavior — how you're the worst team player in your department — but you never really cared.
Not until Joshua Hong inserted himself into your life.
To put it in the easiest way possible, he's the epitome of a perfect coworker. He's the guy that greets you every morning with an charming smile. The guy who drops by your cubicle to give you a coffee he made himself before saying you're doing a great job with that report you're putting together. The guy that everyone just adores simply because he's always been likable from the get-go.
That's the kind of person Joshua is — the exact opposite of you. Surely the jury won't condemn you for always questioning how you wound up spending your Friday nights fucking the man your entire department is basically in love with when you're so unlovable yourself.
Every time you try to recall how your transactional relationship with the company's unofficial sweetheart happened in the first place, your brain simply refuses to cooperate — memories muddled by a few pints of beer too many and an eye-crinkling smile that you're better off not rationalizing.
Besides, it's not like Joshua kisses and tells. Whatever happens in Room 505 stays in Room 505, and that's one of the many reasons why you haven't deigned to walk away from the setup altogether.
You meet up, he makes you feel good — makes you feel wanted — he cycles through whatever aftercare you might need, you fall a little more in love with him, then you both decide if you want to sleep in for a couple more hours or —
Wait.
Did you just admit you're in love with him?
"Hm? Didn't think you'd actually hop in with me today."
Joshua's voice is clearly laced with amusement as you shut the door to the bathroom — cheeks hot with both the steam billowing from the shower and the embarrassment cloying in your chest. You had the foresight to take off your uniform at least, leaving you in an unassuming set of cotton underwear that makes Joshua lick his lips with anticipation.
You make a show of stripping the rest of your clothing before him — nothing but the glass door to the shower separating the both of you. It's nothing sensual, nothing grandiose. You simply take off everything that's keeping your body hidden from your nighttime lover's hungry eyes.
When you step into the warm drizzle of the showerhead, Joshua hums before reaching for a bottle of shampoo — squeezing just the right amount into his palm as he lathers the product into your scalp.
The gentleness weighted into his actions startles you a little — not having expected him to do something so...domestic. You came in here with the full intention of getting fucked against the bathroom wall, but the way he massages your scalp so tenderly makes you reconsider your course of action.
But no matter how much of a gentleman he acts around you, not even Joshua can do anything about his own body's physiological reactions.
You feel the length of his cock nestled against your ass, hips rocking back and forth as he stimulates himself into full hardness. A soft moan tumbles out of your lips when he squeezes some of the hotel-provided body wash all over your chest — large hands lathering the soap across your body all while paying special attention to your tits.
"You finally snapped out of it, sweetheart?" Joshua sighs before latching his mouth onto the thrum of your pulse, biting down for only a moment to get your attention. "Ready to take my cock like a good girl?"
The way he murmurs those last few words along the column of your throat makes your legs feel like they'll disintegrate at any moment. Joshua continues to murmur sweet nothings into your ear, helping you clean up properly first before actually trying anything.
You're not sure if you should be pissed off or endeared by his stalling, but by the time he's finally rinsed out all the suds from your heated bodies, you're more or less ripe for the taking.
"Brace your palms against the wall, pretty girl. Yeah, just like that." Joshua chuckles softly as he presses a kiss to your nape, lips traveling down the length of your spine until he's eye-level with your sopping cunt.
"God, I'll never get tired of looking at this pretty pussy. Been thinking about sinking my cock into you all fucking week," he practically growls. "You really knew what you were doing with that cute maroon skirt you wore the other day, weren't you? The one that kept riding up your thighs when you reached for something from the high shelves? Little fucking minx."
You mewl helplessly when you feel Joshua's tongue prodding your soaked folds — forcing you to press your cheek against the cold tile as he massages your ass gingerly.
Joshua does his best to keep you anchored, making sure you won't accidentally slip as he laves at the slick between your thighs. He has no problem doing just that — driving you to near insanity with how his tongue sucks and slurps at your cunt like it's the first meal he's had in days.
"S-Shua," you whimper pathetically, pushing your ass out for more friction. "You're eating me so good..."
Had you not been so quickly drowned in this haze of arousal, you would've exercised more restraint. Joshua normally has a hard time getting you to be more vocal whenever he makes you feel good, but you suppose that there's just something in the air tonight that makes it so easy to just surrender yourself to him.
You can feel the vibrations of his laughter along the millions of nerve endings on your clit as he traces it with the tip of his tongue — further incapacitating you from coherent thought. When he slips in a finger into your awaiting heat, you all but gasp into the steamy air of the hotel bathroom.
"You're so cute when you start calling me that," he coos without halting his ministrations — that sinful tongue darting out to tease and lick and stimulate as he eases in another thick finger into your gummy walls. "Wanna eat you out underneath your desk someday... Would you act as cute as you're acting right now if I did that?"
The prospect of having sweet, gentlemanly Joshua Hong on his knees for you under your work desk makes you tighten conspicuously around his fingers. From the sordid chuckle that leaves his lips, you're fairly certain that he's noticed.
"You like that, huh? You like it when I put my mouth on you? Make you feel so good, you forget about everything else?" he chuckles darkly, rising back to his full height without taking his fingers out of your needy cunt. "But we both know this is hardly enough for you, right sweetheart?"
You hate how he knows you so well.
Joshua spends about one minute max towel drying both of your bodies before he quite literally sweeps you off your feet. You let out a surprised shriek as he princess-carries you onto the bed — gently laying you on the undisturbed sheets before crawling on top of you like a predator circling its next meal.
"Wanna tell me why you were so out of it earlier?" Joshua murmurs as he nips at your jaw, the words followed by a crackle of thunder in the distance. He chuckles when you jolt in surprise before peppering your face with a collection of kisses that ends at the tip of your nose. "It's not the weather, is it? I remember that I literally fucked you in the middle of a storm last month."
"Quit running your mouth and just fuck me," you mumble, lacing your fingers around his nape before grinding up against his leaking cock. "I've waited for you long enough."
"Ahhh," he drawls with resounding epiphany, as if he'd just figured out some ancient secret. "So you were sulking because I took too long to get here? Don't worry, sweet thing, it won't happen again."
When Joshua leans close to your ear, his hot breath fans against your flesh — making your toes curl with quiet anticipation.
"The next time we meet in this room, I'll have you mounted on my cock the moment you come through the door."
Joshua doesn't bother with foreplay or any sort of preamble. He simply guides his cock into the give of your entrance, sinking his length so deep, you can feel him in your stomach.
"Fuck," you whimper, fingernails seeking purchase across the rippling muscles of Joshua's back. He doesn't quite move yet — letting you get used to the stretch like he always does.
"Pretty pussy's so fucking tight around me," he groans. "Did you need me this badly? 'm sorry for making you wait so long, sweetheart. If I had known, I would've ditched karaoke and made you feel good as soon as I could."
Empty words uttered in the throes of passion — you're well aware that's all they are. Yet Joshua has no trouble making your heart flutter with the sentiment anyway.
"J-Joshua," you manage to gasp as you feel his girth throb inside you. "Please move... Need it. Need it so bad, please."
You're on the brink of tears with how desperate you are for mind-numbing release, but amidst your mounting delirium, Joshua sighs a little too endearingly before pressing a long, hard kiss on your lips.
"Anything for you, pretty girl."
He eases himself into you slowly at first — making sure you feel every ridge of his cock dragging along your tight walls. Joshua particularly feels smug when your eyes roll to the back of your head, addicted to the way his cock is splitting you open.
It's only when you start to loosen up that he picks up the pace, strong hands gripping your thighs as he pounds into you. The squelch of your arousal echoes within the walls secluding you from the rest of the world.
When Joshua hoists your hips higher before hooking the back of your knees across his shoulders, you knew it was all over for you.
Admittedly, you don't remember the first time you've had sex with him anymore. Or the second. Or the third. You've had each other so many times in so many ways that every instance kind of just blends into the next — painting a messy caricature of all the illicit meetings you've had with your nighttime lover.
But you don't care if it's messy. You don't care if it's strange. At the end of the day, you're comforted by the fact that all these experiences you shared with him are irrevocably yours.
Even if you can't really say the same for Joshua himself.
He stirs the pot of your arousal with practiced ease. Joshua stares at you like you're the most precious thing he's laid eyes on before letting one of your legs fall back on the mattress.
Your lover trades the depth of his thrusts for enough leeway to flatten his thick fingers across your throat — making you bleat with expectation as he presses down just enough to make you feel lightheaded. He hisses when he feels your velvet walls clamp tighter around his cock, further informing him that he's on the right track.
"Fuck, sweetheart," he laughs breathlessly — his gorgeous face the only thing you can see. "You'll let me do anything to you, won't you? All I gotta do is fuck you stupid and you'll take everything I give."
At this point, you're too far gone to even deny a word he says. "Mmmm... Your cock feels too good, Shua. 'M so close already. You'll finish inside me, won't you? Make both of us feel good?"
"Dumb little princess couldn't even answer my question," Joshua chuckles before making a particularly harsh thrust that jostles you further up the mattress. "Of course I'll finish inside this pretty pussy. It's all mine, isn't it?"
"Uh-huh," you mewl as Joshua's fingers tighten around your throat again, making your toes curl with unadulterated glee. "My pussy's all yours, Joshua. All fucking yours."
He chuckles again, fingers climbing up to your jaw until Joshua is able to prod his thumb against your bottom lip. You respond in earnest, suckling at the digit as he rails you into the mattress. There's no longer any room for intelligible thoughts — lost in the sea of pleasure that Joshua choose to drown you in every time you come together like this.
"Close, close, close," you practically sob, thighs winding around his hips as you bring him impossibly closer to you. "Shua, I'm gonna cum. Please, I need to cum. I need you—"
"You already have me, sweetheart," he laughs breathlessly yet full of intent that you're too fucked out to notice.
"You'll always have me."
That's what does you in. That's what always does you in — his sweet words, his tender gaze.
As much as the pleasure he gives with each drive of his cock into your battered cunt sends you to cloud nine, nothing makes you fall apart harder than the thought that maybe Joshua Hong is capable of loving you back.
Because how can he stare at you with so much adoration in his eyes if he doesn't actually love you at all? How can he keep meeting you like this in secret if there's no hidden agenda behind it?
But when all's said and done, you come back to your senses. Your rose-tinted gaze fades back into the darkness of Room 505.
Joshua is still beaming at you like you're the only person that matters to him on this entire earth. But you know damn well that he'd never smile at you the same way once you're out of the four corners of this room.
That's just the way things are.
As you pick off your clothes from the floor of the bedroom and the bathroom alike, Joshua stirs from where he momentarily passed out on the mattress — bleary eyes observing your every move as his brows furrow together.
"You're leaving?" he murmurs sleepily. "But it's raining outside. We should stay until it stops at least."
Hesitating for a moment, you stare at the bundle of rumpled clothes in your arms as Joshua practically tells you to go back to bed.
You know it's for the best if you don't lay back down beside him. The distance keeps you grounded — anchored to the truth that beyond these weekly trysts you share together, you and Joshua are nothing but civil colleagues at most.
He isn't your lover. He isn't even your friend.
But a stubborn part of you believes that maybe if he breaks you apart and puts you back together again, you'll be a different person. Someone who can keep up with his outgoing lifestyle. Someone he'll have no problem showing off to his friends and fellow coworkers.
But, really, when have things ever turned up daisies when it comes to you and Joshua Hong?
"Fine," you mumble, dropping your clothes in a heap next to the sushi necktie that looks more worn out now that you're seeing it up close.
You make a mental note to buy him a few more once the Christmas sales start coming around again.
"You coming to cuddle before we sleep or what?"
Joshua stares at you sleepily and expectantly from the bed, even patting the vacant space between him for added effect. If only those girls swooning at him in the office pantry could see him now...
Too bad what happens in Room 505 stays in Room 505.
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⟢ end notes: finished this at 3:05 am with zero proofreading dedicated to it <3 if you spot any mistakes, they're not really mistakes since they're all crucial contenders in the creation process <333
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ellemj · 4 months
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Letters to Santa, Part 1: 12 Days of Smut #11
Bucky Barnes x Reader 2-Part Fic
Request/prompt courtesy of @stuckysbike:
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Warnings: profanity, mentions of orgasms, allusions to smut, dirty letter writing, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Word Count: 1.4k
A/N: I wasn't planning to do any sort of multi-part stuff for this 12 Days of Smut thing, I wanted to churn out a bunch of smutty one-shots so you guys could have a lil Christmas meal every day. But when I started writing this today I kinda fell in love with the last couple of paragraphs and it felt so RIGHT leaving it the way I did. So, it looks like you guys will be getting part 2 of this tomorrow which will be s m u t t y and also a separate smut #12 tomorrow. Thanks to @stuckysbike for this amazing prompt that I’ve been thinking about for DAYS now.
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Dear Santa,
All I want for Christmas is any one of the following, you can pick for me because I’m a little indecisive:
someone to unwrap me like a Christmas present
someone to give me a Christmas miracle (three orgasms in one night, if that’s not too much to ask)
someone to cum down my chimney
With love,
Y/n
            “Oh my god, this is perfect!” Natasha laughs out the words as she waves your letter around in the air. “We have to mail this. I need someone to find the address for the North Pole.”
            “Come on, Nat. Santa’s already put me on his naughty list. I’m not getting anything this year.” You say with a pout, pushing your bottom lip out.
            “It’s true, I saw her submit a half-finished mission report last week.” Wanda points out. You roll your eyes before leaning back on the couch and raising your nearly empty beer bottle to your lips. You take a long sip as Nat, Wanda, and Sharon continue reading each other’s dirty letters to Santa and teasing each other. You’re enjoying sitting through the fun of girls night like you do every Friday night, until you hear the elevator ding across the room. Just as you turn your head to see who it’s carried upstairs, the doors slide open to reveal Sam and Bucky. Sam opens his arms wide upon seeing the four of you piled together on the couch, clearly loving that he’s just stumbled into his first girls night.
            “Is this what I think it is?” He asks excitedly, quickly making his way over to the couch and seating himself on the end of the sectional.
            “A bunch of girls writing dirty letters to Santa? Yes.” Sharon reveals all. You shoot her a faux-angry glare.
            “Sharon, he’s a guy. You’re not supposed to tell him anything about girl’s night.” Wanda reprimands her jokingly. Sharon lifts her hands in surrender.
            “Hey, this is the first one I’ve been invited to, no one told me the rules. I’m also a little drunk, it’s not my fault.”
            Your eyes snap back over to Sam just in time to see him peering over Nat’s shoulder, trying to get a look at your very own dirty letter to Santa. You’re quick to scramble to your feet and snatch the piece of paper from Nat’s hand, narrowing your eyes at Sam.
            “If you don’t have a sled and…eight…no, nine reindeer, then this isn’t for you.” You say coldly, carefully folding the letter and setting it on the coffee table that’s littered with pens, beer bottles, and various snacks.
            “I could have a sled.” Sam offers, eyeing where your letter now sits.
            “You have wings, it’s not the same.” Sharon quips. As everyone continues to joke and tease each other around the coffee table, you’re sitting back and enjoying the nice buzz you feel from the alcohol you’ve consumed so far tonight. After another minute of listening to your friends have the time of their lives, you can’t help but feel like you’re being watched. You let your eyes float around from Wanda to Nat, then to Sam at the end of the couch, and then to Sharon. No one’s looking at you. That’s when you remember the silent sixth person in the room. You turn your head and look over your shoulder, finding Bucky standing in the kitchen, sipping from his own bottle of beer as he stares right at you. Any other person caught staring would look away. That’s the normal thing to do, right? But Bucky has never looked away, of all of the times you’ve caught him staring. Maybe it’s an alpha male type of behavior you could learn about on Animal planet, hell if you know, but whatever it is Bucky has it bad. Sam jokingly refers to him as the bionic staring machine and you’ve never heard anything more accurate. However, you’ve noticed lately that Bucky stares at you a hell of a lot more than he stares at anyone else. Is it wishful thinking? Maybe. You have no problem admitting that the man is annoyingly attractive, and the fact that he tends to be so quiet and elusive only adds to the attraction. Like they say, a crush is just a lack of information. If Bucky talked more, you’d easily lose your attraction to him. You’re sure of that.
            You’re lightly engaging in the conversation with Sam and the girls again, but you can still feel Bucky’s gaze burning a hole in the back of your head as you speak. When he finally silently slips out of the kitchen and disappears down the hallway that leads to everyone’s rooms, you’re relieved. You don’t know why you always find it so hard to relax around him. He puts you on edge for a reason you’ll never understand.
            “Okay, I think it’s time for everyone to get to bed. We have a full day tomorrow with baking Christmas cookies, the gingerbread house contest, and the Christmas dinner.” Wanda reminds everyone. She’s the first one to rise from the couch, gathering up the pens and blank pieces of paper to put them away. You’re quick to start collecting the empty beer bottles from the coffee table, trying to do your part. You’re so preoccupied with straightening up the small mess you all left in the kitchen that you don’t even notice Natasha tucking your dirty letter to Santa into the waistband of her pants. In fact, the dirty letter doesn’t even cross your mind as you finish up in the kitchen and head to your room for the night.
            Natasha thinks of herself as a matchmaker of sorts, or at least someone who’s good at reading chemistry between people. She might not know enough to say that two people are destined to marry and have a bunch of kids together, but she knows when two people would have a good physical relationship. That particular skill of hers is what leads her not only to steal your dirty letter to Santa, but to slide it under Bucky’s door as she passes his room to get to her own a little while later. What a devious Black Widow your best friend is.
---
            Someone to unwrap me like a Christmas present. Someone to give me a Christmas miracle of three orgasms in one night. Someone to cum down my chimney.
            Bucky has read the letter a total of four times, each time making his dick a little harder and his chest rise and fall a little faster. He stares at the bottom of the page where you so neatly signed your name. It’s the dirty letter you wrote just earlier during girls night. Bucky isn’t even questioning the fact that this is how the four of you chose to spend your evening. His only question is how and why your letter ended up sitting on the floor right inside of his door after he finished showering. Did you slide it under there yourself? Did someone else do it? Are you expecting him to give you one of these gifts?
            He sits on the side of his bed still staring down at the piece of paper in his hand, but he’s not reading it anymore. He’s thinking back to every single interaction he’s ever had with you, from the most minor to the most memorable. Hell, they’ve all been memorable. Every lingering look, every seemingly accidental touch of your thigh against his when you’re in the quinjet or in the conference room for a briefing, every damn word you’ve ever said to him. There’s always been some kind of a spark between the two of you, a clear sexual tension that was begging to be broken, but neither of you ever did a thing about it. So, why now is Bucky thinking about doing something about it? If you slipped the letter under his door, then it’s obviously something you want him to do. You gave him a fucking menu of choices. But if you didn’t slip it under the door, then who else has noticed the sexual tension between you two and decided that it was their job to remedy it?
            Someone to unwrap me like a Christmas present. Someone to give me a Christmas miracle of three orgasms in one night. Someone to cum down my chimney.
            Bucky folds the piece of paper into a small rectangle before placing it in the top drawer of his nightstand and taking a deep breath in.
All of the above. That’s what he chooses for you.
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sinnersweets · 2 months
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DogDay x Reader part 11
<;-----part 10, part 12----->
A/N: Ik DogDay has human looking hands but I just like calling them paws and the term for the equivalent of a finger to a dogs paw is called a digit so I used that in the story. Okay I'll stop talking now.
I sat on the examination bed in anticipation. It’s been four weeks. Four weeks of being trapped at my parents' house. Four weeks of having to deal with my mother pestering me every day. Four weeks that I worried that Damian might not be at Playcare anymore. And four weeks that I haven’t seen DogDay.  
A knock interrupted my thoughts. “Miss Y/N?” The door opened and the doctor came back with the x ray results. I’ve been doing everything I needed to heal properly and return to work. “Alright Miss Y/N, good news! It seems like you are healed up completely and no longer need to wear a boot.” “Yes!” I covered my mouth and apologized for my sudden burst. 
“No need to apologize. Seems like this is an early Christmas present for you.” “Indeed, it is.” I was overjoyed then. I can finally leave my parents' house and go back to work! The doctor prescribed me some medicine just in case I felt any pain later. I thanked the doctor, went to the waiting room and saw my dad looking at a newspaper. 
“I’m back.” He looked up from the paper and smiled before folding down the paper. “Hey kiddo. What’s the verdict?” “All healed up.” He smiled and nodded while standing up to leave the clinic. “You know your mom will be hurt that you’re all better; she’s hoping you’d stay with us till’ New Years.” “Sorry not sorry.” My dad knew what I meant when I said that, and he understood why I said that. “Just be careful when you go back to work.” “I will.” 
--------------- 
Unlocking my door to my place felt so nice. I smiled and sighed as I walked in and shut the door behind me. “Hello home.” I said to no one in particular. I noticed that by the door there was a lot of mail. I should’ve had one of my parents come by and collect these for me. I picked them up and started going through them. “Junk, junk, junk, more junk-wait a minute.” I went back to the previous envelope and took another look at it. It was addressed to me; Angel. 
My heart began to race as I ripped open the envelope. “My darling Angel, it has been almost four weeks since we last spoke. I hope that you are feeling better and that you will be able to return to us soon. Yes, that’s right Angel; us. Damian is still here.” My eyes were watering up as I read. Thank the stars Damian was still there. “And don’t worry my Angel; BB has stayed far away from me. Her helper Edward was a little peeved that we kinda sorta ruined her fur, but I don’t really care.” I chuckled. I knew he would be upset with that. 
--------------- 
I finished reading DogDay’s letter and went out to the fabric store for his gift. In his letter he said he had a gift for me and that he was excited to give it to me. I looked up a pattern online for what I wanted to make for DogDay and hoped that they had what I needed. Shopping near Christmas is a very hit or miss kinda situation. 
--------------- 
I was practically jumping in excitement as I saw Playcare. It looked so decked out with decorations. In the center where the statues of the Smiling Critters were at was a Christmas tree. As I got lower into Playcare I could see garland wrapped around the Bron lamps. There also seemed to be snow. Not real snow but fake snow for the children. The cable car soon came to a halt, and I exited while carrying DogDays gift in my hand. 
There were some children running around, sleighing down the hill, building snowmen; it warmed my heart to be back. I looked around and spotted Damian up by the duck pawn with Miley. I smiled and started making my way up to them when I heard Hoppy call out to me. “Hey you’re back!” She hopped over to me and gave me a tight hug. When she set me down she shouted, “Hey kids! Angels back!”  
All the kids that were outside stopped in their tracks and looked over to me and Hoppy before saying, “Angel!!!” The kids ran up to me and surrounded me while asking me questions and hugging me at the same time. “What happened?” “Why’d you leave?” “Did you die?” I did my best to hug each child that came up to me. “I had an injury and needed to go away for a while and no I did not die, haha.” “Miss Y/N!” I looked up and saw Damian was in the back of the crowd.  
I excused myself from the kids around me and made my way towards Damian. Once I got close Damain tackled me in a hug almost making me lose my balance. “You’re back!” He said while crying. “Damian! I’m so lucky I got to see you again. I was afraid that you wouldn’t be here; but after reading DogDays letter and knowing that you were still here, I was counting down the seconds that I could return to you both.”  
Hoppy tapped on my shoulder while saying, “Don’t mean to interrupt but I wanted to tell you something.” I let go of Damian and turned to face Hoppy. “So, you know how in the show Belle and the Beast waltz? Well, I heard from CatNap that DogDay has been wanting to do that scene with you and so he and Sarah have been practicing since she’s about the same height as you and he can't remember how you guys waltz before. They’ve been practicing once a week, and you are here on the day that they practice so I think it’ll be a good surprise to have you be seen by DogDay then.”  
I really wanted to see DogDay now, but I liked what Hoppy had suggested. “Okay, I’m in.” She clapped her hands together before grabbing onto my hand and leading me to the school. “Awesome! Now we just have to hide you until bedtime; that’s when they rehearse.” Damian and Miley followed behind me as we entered the school. “Where is DogDay?” “He’s been couped up in your office. He assigned me to your guy's group. You not being here really took a toll on him.” My heart sunk when she said that. He would probably be a little better if I had written back to him. Once I see him, I’ll explain why I couldn’t and hopefully he won’t be upset. 
--------------- 
Hoppy led me into the cafeteria and told me that this is where they practice at. “Mmmk, now you’ll just wait behind these curtains for a while while I go and find Sarah to tell her about the plan.” I gave her a thumbs up and she took Damian and Miley back with the rest of the kids. They both said they wanted to stay and watch, and she said they could if they could solve a math problem, she gave them. They both groaned in disappointment, but I chuckled. I’d have to have either Sarah or Hoppy record us, that way I can show them later. 
Once they left I sat down behind the curtain still holding DogDays gift in hand. I then thought about what to give Damian. After a moment of thinking I thought of the perfect gift. I wouldn’t give it to him tomorrow since I didn’t know how long the process would be, but I knew he would happily wait for it. I got on my phone and searched up how to adopt a child from Playtime. 
--------------- 
I fell asleep while waiting for DogDay and Sarah to come and the sound of DogDays voice woke me up. “Angel should be back any day now so let’s do our best tonight, Sarah.” “Um before we start, I have a suggestion. Why don’t I go put on something similar to what Y/N will be wearing, that way you like don’t step on her dress when she’s here.” “That’s a great idea Sarah! I really appreciate you helping me out with this.” “No prob.” I heard Sarah saying while popping her gum. 
I listened closely as Sarah left the cafeteria but then heard another set of footsteps near me. “Psst.” I looked over and saw that it was Hoppy. “Here.” She handed me the dress that Belle wears. “Go ahead and change. I’m gonna go out there and dj.” “Thank you. Oh, and here, take my phone.” I handed her my phone and she winked at me before leaving to give me privacy to change. 
“Hey there boss.” I could hear Hoppy say to DogDay. “Hoppy? What are you doing here?” “Oh I’m just here to dj. Sarah asked me to help with you guys tonight.” DogDay didn’t say anything but I’m guessing he was okay with this. “Now you just face this way alright?” “Um why?” “Don’t question me.” I then heard the music start to play. Suddenly, my hands felt sweaty. “Alright come on out!” I swallowed and opened the curtain.  
DogDays back was to me. Once I saw him I felt calm and no longer nervous. Hoppy was grinning and she pulled out my phone and started recording. “Hey that looks like Angel's pho-” DogDay stopped mid-sentence and slowly turned around. He turned and once he saw me his tail began wagging. I stepped down from the stage and walked over to him. Once I got close to him, I curtsy and said, “May I have this dance?” He wiped away a tear and bowed while saying, “It would be an honor to dance with you, Angel.”  
I motioned him to come a little bit closer. “I don’t remember the dance.” I whispered while laughing. He laughed to and said, “Not to worry Angel.” He picked me up and had one arm around my waist; and the other paw held my hand. “I’ll lead~”  
--------------- 
The whole moment felt magical; even though it was really just DogDay waltzing. Once the song had ended, he dipped me down and stared at me with such happiness. He then lifted me up and then we both saw CatNaps tail lower above us holding a mistle toe. “Go on! Kiss her! You know you want to! Haha.” Hoppy was still recording us. “You don’t have to tell me twice Hoppy!”  
DogDay closed the gap between us and kissed me on the lips. I closed my eyes and kissed him back. After a while we pulled back for some air. “I’ve missed you, Angel.” “I’ve missed you too. I’m sorry that I didn’t respond to your letter. I had no idea that you sent one and-” DogDay put a paw finger (digit) up to my lips while saying, “Shh. We can talk later. Right now, I just want to kiss you~” I smiled against his paw finger (digit), and he moved it away and kissed me again. “Oh I’m totally gonna show this to BB and KC.” 
A/N: Reunited at last.
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vivwritesfics · 6 months
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Lando Norris HC's
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I'm burnt out and exhausted and I just want someone to love me haha
Masterlist
Lando
Where to begin?
He's... something else
Don't get me wrong, he's amazing
What's not to love?
High performance athlete who also streams on Twitch
Every bit the golden retriever boyfriend everybody wanted
Every bit the golden retriever boyfriend Y/N got
This man? Attention WHORE
He doesn't stop
Comes out with the weirdest stuff
It's so much fun
Wants his girlfriend with him for race weekends
Because he hates going a long time without pissing her off
Very important that his girlfriend gets along with Carlos
She's there when they're pissing about
During their McLaren days?
Mayhem
You kind of have a love every minute of it if you're dating Lando
Sitting in while he streams sometimes
Not every time
But being in the room, doing something while he streamed
Y/N could be doing her own work while Lando gamed and streamed
Chief cuddler
But can't sit still long enough for them to properly cuddle
Loves getting his hair played with
Oooooo running your fingers through Lando Norris' hair? Literally can't imagine anything better
Stealing hats and hoodies purely because they smell like him
Lando loves snogging
Kissing by lamp light, hands on her hips, grip almost bruising
Or his hands would be on her face, pushing away her hair
Man loves marking up
Marking up his girl and being marked up
Aka, hand prints, hickies, scratches down his back
Lando loved that the most
Feeling her nails raking down the skin of his back
Plus, it was easy to hide
Unless he was participating in an ice bath
Then he'd mark her up twice as good, since she couldn't leave marks on him
Out in the club, Lando is very touchy
Aka, doesn't let go of her
Holding her hand
Holding her hips or her ass as they danced
Y/N becoming one of the more photographed WAG's
Simply because she didn't want to stay hidden
She wanted the world to see her with Lando
She wanted the world to know how much she loved her man
After a race, when Lando was in the top three, he'd climb of the car, wave to the crowd, run over to the McLaren team at the barriers to celebrate
And then he'd pull Y/N against the barrier and she'd kiss his helmet, where she'd think his lips would be
Holidays with Lando!!
Oh my god, literally the best
Fancy hotels and Yachts
Adventuring together
Holidaying with other drivers
There was one particular holiday
It was very spontaneous, they hadn't booked anything
Just hopped off a plane and off they went
To the Canary Islands
It was difficult to get a hotel
When they landed, they could only get one
It was... hell
Kids everywhere, booming music like baby shark playing around the pool all day
It was all inclusive, with drunk, neglectful parents spending every minute getting burnt on the sun loungers or around the buffet
Y/N and Lando found themselves as far away from the pool and buffet as they possibly could
Y/N would be reading her book as Lando did... something
When parents came and took their kids for dinner, they got a break from it
They could go in the pool without kids swimming into them
The hotel had crazy golf
Happy Lando
Happy Lando dragging Y/N around the crazy golf course, giggling like a child
Driving with Lando
Ugh, simply the best
Driving around Monaco in the Fiat Jolly (before he sold it) with his hand on her thigh
Driving in any vehicle with Lando's hand on her thigh
Hitting every red light
Kissing at the stop signs (darling)
Lando belting out the lyrics to any song that comes on
Having a car playlist so that the both of them could sing along
Going to Lando's parents for Christmas
Traditional British Christmas
Aka, roast dinner, pulling crackers, drinking, playing board games and ending the night with a cheese board
Taking his girlfriend around Guildford while they're in the UK
(I'm pretty sure it's Guildford - a youtube video from five years ago just popped up which said Guildford)
(Guildford is the halfway point between where I live now and where I actually live)
After a year and a half, Lando asks her to move in with him
Six months after that, they get a dog
A Doberman, collie, or golden retriever, I think
The name? Badger
Why? Daniel
Aka, Daniel knew the couple were going to adopt a dog
He had to get himself involved somehow and
He placed a wager - if Lando finished below P5 he'd get to name the dog
Y/N readily accepted
Lando DNFed that race
And so, the dog was named after the honey badger himself
To this day, Lando doesn't know
Lando is such a good dog dad
The dog doesn't come to the race weekends like Roscoe does with Lewis
Either Y/N stays home or the dog stays with a trusted friend if they had both gone
Lando's social media becomes a fan account for the dog
Having oh so many pregnancy scares with this man
Who doesn't love a late night run to the shop to get a pregnancy test or two?
They do eventually get pregnant
Y/N finds out on a race weekend
She was at home with Badger when she saw the pregnancy test in her bathroom cabinet
Video calling her best friend, Y/N took it
She waited the mandatory couple of minutes before she checked the little stick
She had to hang up on her friend
It was just meant to be for fun
Nothing serious
But then it turned serious
What the fuck was she going to do?
When the fuck would she tell Lando?
Should she tell him now, before he's about to go and race?
Yeah no, not a chance
Not with how much she was currently freaking out
She waits until he gets home from the race weekend
The test (and all of the others she'd done) had been thrown in the bin
All she had was herself
This was fine
She wasn't freaking out
(she was freaking out big time)
Y/N stayed up, waiting with Badger for Lando to come home
As soon as the door opened, she jumped up and faced him
Lando dropped his things when he saw her
He'd assumed she'd been asleep when he got in
But no, she was still awake
And he'd been waiting for him
Warmth spread through him
Normally, when Y/N waited up for Lando, she'd jump into his arms
But not this time
No
She just stood there, staring at him
"I've got something to tell you"
Anxiety spread through Lando
Y/N told him
He dropped to his knees
Well, his one knee
For the longest time Lando had been looking for a sign that he should propose
He wanted to, he desperately wanted to
He was just looking for some sort of sign
This wasn't a sign, it was a slap in the face
With all of the racing, Lando hadn't yet managed to buy her a ring
He'd really meant to
When he got down onto one knee, it was at the very back of his mind
"Marry me?"
Yeah, that was how he asked
Of course, Y/N said yes
Lando began running around, looking for some rope or yarn or twine that he could wrap around her finger until he got a proper ring
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spamgyu · 4 months
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ONE LAST TIME // Seungcheol x Reader oneshot
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DESCRIPTION: It's Christmas and Seungcheol was bored... Who better else to bother than Kkuma's mom? PAIRING: Seungcheol x Reader GENRE: Fluff MASTERLIST
Merry Christmas to all my Cheol Apologists. Here is a quick unedited drabble/oneshot for you guys – a little something for making me laugh.
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"Merry Christmas 🎁🎄😉"
His thumb hovered over the send button, chewing at his lip as he contemplated whether he should go ahead and allow his intrusive thoughts win.
He had seen countless of twitter posts about exes doing this same thing, laughing at each one.
After the fifth one he scrolled past, Seungcheol decided "why the hell not" and scrolled to the bottom of his messages — clicking on the one conversation he had yet to delete.
Along with the name he had yet to change.
He wasn't hanging on to her, no definitely not.
Just didn't think it's that important to delete messages when his phone storage was completely fine.
And why go as far as changing her contact name back to her government name. The honey emoji was cute anyways.
Fuck it.
Holding his breath, he hit send and waited for the screen to flash the words delivered before swiping out of the app.
It was just in good fun, he wasn't expecting a reply — he just wanted to be as annoying as the other men on social media who reached out to their exes after months of no contact..... for the laughs.
He knew there was a higher percentage of her leaving him on read than replying and telling him off; she was always the bigger person.
But Seungcheol was oh so wrong.
In the midst of replying to Jeonghan's instagram story of his family's Christmas feast, her assigned contact name appeared.
"Lmfao stfu" She replied.
But she also hearted the message.
Letting out a soft chuckle, he quickly typed away on his keyboard.
"Damn, not even going to say it back?"
He was just joking.
And he knew she found it funny.
Within seconds her chat bubble appear — she was typing.
"Merry Christmas, Cheol🎄"
"What about my family?"
He was pushing it.
But with all his other friends far too busy with their own family activities to reply to his texts, he was going to keep at it.
"Texted your mom this morning dumbass."
He wasn't aware she was still in contact with his mother.
Though, he should have figured.
They were together for three years.
And his mom had always wanted a daughter.
"Dumbass? At least be nicer to your favorite ex."
"Who said you're my favorite? 🫵🏼"
"I just know 😉"
"You're currently at the bottom on my list. At least my other ex got me a present."
Bottom of her list.
She had only one other ex.
And he didn't count.
High school boyfriends don't count. Especially if they broke up right after graduation.
Those were just test runs.
More importantly, it was Seokmin. And he gives presents to everyone.
He had a big heart and wants to be everyone's friend.
"Was it a tea set again?"
"Shut up lol"
"Send me your list, I'll get you something."
"Dyson Airwrap 😈"
He knew she was joking.
But wouldn't it be funny, if he actually did it?
Switching apps, Seungcheol typed into his search bar, clicking the first result that had pooped up.
He still had her address memorized.
Seungcheol hit the complete button, and locked his phone as bounded for the dining room — checking to see if his mom and dad had finally set up tonight's feast.
He was just about to pick at the cheeseboard his mother set up on the table when the familiar sound of a facetime call blared from the phone in his hand began to ring — it was her.
She must have gotten the confirmation email.
"Wassup?" He swiped the accept button — throwing a cheese cube in his mouth.
It had been a while since he had last seen her, being blocked on all her social media accounts and all.
She was really persistent on keeping the no contact rule after the break up.
Even when they took turns taking care of their shared dog, Kkuma — opting to use Wonwoo as their puppy's form of transportation and point of contact.
He protested each time their non-government assigned custody switch off was set to happen — trudging to his car with Kkuma in tow.
Wonwoo claimed they were far worse than actual divorced parents — complaining more considering Seungcheol technically had custody of him and the dog.
Seungcheol couldn't help but bite back a smile as he watched her from behind the screen — making note of how cute she looked when she was annoyed.
He's allowed to think she's cute.
They were broken up but that doesn't mean she wasn't attractive.
"You're joking, right?"
"What are you talking about?" Seungcheol blinked.
She could see right through his act, giving him the finger.
"Hey, that's not nice." He laughed.
"You're crazy, you know that?"
"Am I your favorite yet?"
"No!"
"I'll buy you another one." He threatened.
"Cheol!"
"Yes?" He answered sweetly, making her lips curl in annoyance.
He always did enjoy getting her nerves.
Seeing her huff and puff had always been his favorite part of his day.
Especially when she would pout after taking a joke a little too far only for him to kiss it all better — not that he could do that now.
He's allowed to reminisce on old memories. At least, he'll allow himself just this one time during the holidays.
"Fine, what do you want?"
You.
Seungcheol shook his head. "Nothing."
"Come on, let me get you something."
He pursed his lips, thinking — he had almost anything he could ask for.
And if he did end up thinking of anything, he could simply swipe his card and purchase it himself.
There was one thing he did want, but be knew it would be a selfish thing to ask of her.
Settling for the next best thing, a smile crept on his face."What perfume do you use again?"
"You want my perfume?" She raised her brows.
He missed the way she smelled.
The remaining item he had that held traces of her no longer had that signature scent — having it been nearly a nine months since she had lounged around his place in his hoodie.
He would have purchased it himself, but the thought of him going out of the way to purchase her scent only for him to spray it on her favorite hoodie and her side of the bed seemed pathetic.
But considering she offered....
"Why not? I like the smell." He shrugged.
Sighing, she swiped out of their call — allowing for his face to minimize and settle for a corner in her screen as she quickly typed away on her phone.
She still had his address memorized as well.
Seungcheol couldn't be more grateful that Apple had changed their phone setting and no longer pause the person on the other side of the line's video when they swiped away — watching as she brought the device closer to her face, her brows naturally furrowing as she focused in her task.
"Done." She sang, clicking back into their call.
It wasn't long before he got the confirmation email, his eyes widening at the transaction breakdown.
"Why the hell is your perfume $250!?" His mouth hung in shock.
It was no wonder she had always scolded him for spraying a little too much when she allowed him to have some.
Curse Le Labo and their damn prices.
"It's worth it."
"I would hope so, it cost almost as much as a hairdryer!"
"You asked for it!" She laughed.
It was music to his ears.
"Is that y/n?" His mom's scurried over to him, wiping her hands on her apron. Seungcheol moved the camera to fit the both of them on screen, the smile on his face growing larger – as if it could get any more since their call began.
"Merry Christmas, mom!" She waived.
Mom.
When he had first introduced her to his parents, it didn't take long for them to warm up to her – insisting that she referred to them as mom and dad because "you two will be married soon, anyways."
Oh, they were so wrong.
"Stop by tomorrow for leftovers yeah?" The older lady asked.
"Mom..." He trailed off, not wanting to pressure the girl behind the screen – although, they did agree that Kkuma was to ring in the New Year with her because he had a snowboard trip planned with his friends.
She can pick her up early instead of having to ask Wonwoo.
"I'd love to." She smiled warmly.
How was he going to find someone who got on well with his mom?
Trick question.... he didn't want to.
"Perfect." His mother clapped, before excusing herself back into the kitchen.
"Guess I'm picking our daughter up early." She mumbled.
Our daughter.
"Guess I'll be seeing you too."
"That can be arranged."
"Come on, it's been months. I think we can see each other now." He half-heartedly teased.
The anger had subsided and the wounds that once kept them up at night had grown numb – the only memory of their past were now re-runs of the good times. It was as if their brain completely disregarded the fighting and the heartache that they had gone through in the last few months of their relationship.
They were now.... okay.
"I don't know, Cheol."
"Come on. One last time."
It was almost like he was pleading for her – the playful tone between the two have shifted.
He watched as she nervously switched holding her phone from one hand to the other, chewing at the skin inside her cheek.
He shouldn't have mentioned it.
But he was already far from the line they had drawn between them – swearing to never cross.
"I miss you." He continued. "It's a neutral setting. We can have breakfast with my parents."
"One last time?"
"Promise."
He broke that promise within a few weeks – picking up Kkuma at her apartment instead of his friend. She nearly stumbled back when she swung the door open and saw his smiling face – holding a paper bag containing her favorite pastries.
It wasn't long before he would show up at her door again and again; and she wasn't complaining.
They swore they were just friends.
Two exes who were coparenting – remaining cordial for the sake of their dog.
That was, until she had agree to spend Christmas with him at his family home – one last time.
They should have known his mother was scheming, she was a little too cheerful when she had greeted them at the door.
"Oh, will you look at that!" She gasped, pointing up above them as they kicked their shoes off.
The two exchanged looks before looking up at the doorway where his mother taped two leaves – a chuckle escaping his lips in an instant.
"What do you say?" He raised a brow at her. "One last time?"
"Or maybe a couple more," Y/n copied his playful tone. "if... you want."
"Oh, I definitely want." Seungcheol wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer – planting a quick peck on her lips.
His mother was there.
And so was their daughter.
"Merry Christmas." She giggled.
Thank god for that damn twitter trend.
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evilminji · 4 months
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Thinking About Ghost Writer's Library ( o.o)
Yeah, that's right folks! It's ya girl! Back on her bullshit, with PONDERING TIME. But like? GW? Is AT BEST? Somewhere around Victorian or Edwardian, given his aesthetic, right? And? Granted! It COULD be, he just vibes SUPER HARD with this Hot New Look(tm).
But like?
He is Baby.
They basically ALL are Baby. It's the... no, A(!) Baby area of the Zone. A place where sentient life is JUST sort of beginning to happen. On the COSMIC, INTERDIMENSIONAL, scale of things. What, after all, is a MERE few millenia? When the average is counting things by Eons? And even WORSE? When your ENTIRE COUNTRY and HISTORY is? What... CENTURIES?
Zygote. You are not but an infant. Back to daycare with you.
Which of course, leads the baby sitters. Even the occasional Adult. SOMEONES got to watch them. But it's not like THEY want to volunteer their eternity. They have Obsessions to follow. And there are A LOT of Baby Zone's to watch! More forming every day! The great dance of Life And Death etc etc, Yada yada!
Who's being punished? Make them do it! *Clockworks in long term plan*
But! Not the point here! Though fascinating to consider! The POINT? GW->Baby. His Library? Larger then then any Earth libraries, yes. But! Still SMALL. A BABY'S collection of books! Still growing. And for all his bragging and posturing? FAR from the Zone's BEST Library.
It likely doesn't even get to make the LONG FORM list.
Which Danny? Who is STILL banned? Quickly figures out. Because? Amity Library is... DECENT. It's working with the funding It's gotten dispite the damage ghost fights have done. Danny loves that library. He does. But... he also? Kinda has run out of things to READ.
And like HELL is he gonna BEG to enter GHOST WRITER'S Lair. Mister "Love Christmas or I'll torture you with it" can SUCK [REDACTED] and shove it up his [REDACTED BUT WITH VIOLENCE THIS TIME]. So? He asks, vaguely of course, Mr. Ho the librarian what he should do.
The man practically froths at the mouth at the thought that there is some BASTARD denying children books over PETTY PERSONAL BULLSHIT. Wants to meet this guy out back. "Talk books". Mr. Ho is like a bazillion years old and a tiny grandpa, he's amazing and Danny STILL kinda wants to be him when he grows up.
But since Danny won't let him deck Ghost Writer. He shows him how too look up other libraries in the area. Which... sparks An Idea(tm). He thanks his favorite librarian and races home. Makes a Bee Line for the Far Frozen.
Can he LOOK at the Infinity Map, Frostbite? He knows taking it is only for Important Events, but... why, you ask? Well...*explains*
Which is how he ends up, with a pen and paper, watching Trained Yeti Map Makers(tm) quickly sprawling out Map after Map, as Frostbite (who is apparently the only one AUTHORIZED to do this, who knew?) formally asks the Map in? Weirdly specific and oddly phrased ways, for the best libraries? Huh?
Ooooh! Frostbite is authorized because he's the only one TRAINED in the exact workings of the Map. Yeah, that makes a lot more sense. When Danny was using it, it dragged him at like Mach bajillion all over the place and he had to keep rephrasing things.
So? He can go now, right? Since he has the directions?
What do you mean "not quite"?
Danny finds out he needs an "Adult Escort". Because he is Baby. And much like children can not fly to Peru alone from halfway across the globe, so too, they can not LEAVE the baby zones to travel through Adult Territories where they could get Ended by accident, WITHOUT Adult supervision. Safety first!
D:< He just wants BOOKS!
Fine! Clockwork is old as BALLS! Older probably! He's LITERALLY TIME! How's THAT for OLD, huh?! Can he GO NOW!? He just wants to check out their ghostly sci-fi section! He's curious AF! He bets they have ALIEN Sci-fi! Come oooooooon!
Clockwork, of course, let's himself be dragged along. Because this is hilarious. AND going to terrify so, SO many assholes. Which is Funny :)
Danny gets his library card to *Unpronouncable without several neck bones humans do not have*, which is the size of Jupiter's BIGGER BROTHER. It isn't even the "Best" library. Just the closest. Danny has a manic... everything, the Fenton blood is strong with this one. So Many Booooooooks~!
And yeah, school books or whatever, probably a great learning resource.
BUT THE SCI-FI AND COMICS SECTION! It goes on for MILES! LITERAL MILES! *incoherent noises of joy*
Needless to say, the Librarians think he's ADORABLE. Such an eager reader! And so SMALL! A BABY! Look at his lil hands~! Be careful with the books, okay sweetie? Oh heck yeah! He WILL be!
And obviously? He gaurds those books with his LIFE. That's his Premium VIP Celebrity Gucci Bespoke Comics of The Multiverse Access! You'll have to pry it from his multi-dead, still smoking, Ended 5Ever hands!
The problem with THIS is?
Even with careful book covers? Those are CLEARLY glowing books. Like... day glow. Unnaturally glowing. The OTHER problem, is UNLIKE that baby GW? Adults can make their books multilingual. OMNILINGUAL. Is this book in French? Or Ainu? Yes. If it's YOUR language, then that's what you're reading in. Is it a bit clunky at times? With things that don't translate well, having to be explained in side notes? Yes. But better then not being able to read them at all!
And of course, comfort and repetition breed mistakes. You get too used to doing something. Forget you're supposed to be HIDING it. Maybe you go to college. Maybe the world moves on. You bring down a government agency with your friends. Become an infant king, much to the unspeakable alarm of the adults who SHOULD have been watching and protecting you. Maybe you have WORDS with them. Who's to say.
You're tired. It's been a long month.
You just want your coffee and a snacky lil treat. Something yummy for the you. Surely you've earned it, right? You've been good. So you take your sweet new alien sci-fi epic, your scrunkly feral Racoon lookin self, and you crawl like the half dying man you are. Towards the sweet relief of sugar and caffeine. Pride? You don't know her. Gib the coffee or you bite.
Unfortunately! There is some shitty "the Youth Today blah blah blah, let try and catch them of gaurd with loaded questions to prove my point and make a whole generation look dumb" reporter on campus. You see them out of the corner of your eye. They clearly think you are the weak link.
They are making their way towards you, mic raised.
Ah. Tragic, they have chosen death.
Before they can reach you, you raise your voice and not so much throw them under a bus, as drive the bus over THEM. Because THIS Coffee shop is the Punk hangout spot. And you've made casual friendly acquaintances with the six foot something, Sam clone from Scotland, whose life goal seems to be "Fight God".
And THESE fine folk DEFINITELY want an interview :) Have Fun, Thorn!
Needless to say, the clips go viral. With Danny sitting in the background, coffee and muffin achieved. Minding his business. Reading his glowing book. Which everyone ignores, on campus. Because EVERYONE knows Danny can make things glow! It's his weird minor power. Some lab accident in his teen years. NBD
But like... no body ELSE "knows" that. So it attracts attention.
Which would be FINE.... if he was reading an EARTH book.
But he's NOT.
And someone recognizes it.
Maybe it's Martian. Kryptonian. Could be Asgardian. Depends on the crossover you want! Because it could be ANY crossover! Lost books. Not just the Great Classics(tm) that people like to save. But the silly ones. The small ones. The equivalent of dime store novels and cheap drug store comics. Children's books. Banned books. The things Powerful People tried to erase from history itself. The things TIME tried to erase, with the fall of nations and the coming of war.
The destruction of worlds.
All of it there.
Imagine it. Standing on a planet, far from the world that was once your home, KNOWING in your heart that everything is gone. Everyone. That NOTHING but what you carry with you remains. And looking up one day to see, in the background of some average and silly video? Not "War and Peace" or "Great Expectations" or some other likely exported peice... but? Some youth reading that overly dramatic trashy sci-fi book that your cousins wouldn't stop raving about. The ones all the adults were SICK of hearing about.
It would NEVER have passed the bar for export.
It was silly and embarrassing but culturally significant.
It's... it's right there.
How?
Wouldn't the desperation that fills you be suffocating? Are there others? Is that an original? How is it here? How can he READ it? Who taught him? Who IS he? Is he one of us? Where? How? HOW?! Please. PLEASE!
And Danny? Would have no idea! :)c it's great~
@hdgnj @hypewinter @the-witchhunter @ailithnight @mutable-manifestation @nerdpoe
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vinsmokesangio · 5 months
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"are we on a date?"
pairing: tom blyth x bestfriend!reader x actress!reader
summary: you and tom met not long ago, but the connection you have and affection for each other turns into something more. tom is three years older than reader, she’s initiating in acting.
genre: only fluffy - at least for now
warnings: english is not my first language | no proofread.
N/A.: Hi! I really want to turn this into a series, but I need reader engagement to know if it’s worth it! Don't forget to comment, reblog, and tell me what you think <3 read my social media au here!
word count: 954
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It was a cloudy and cold Friday, and you’re feeling completely tired. After several classes and auditions throughout the day, all you wanted was to be at home watching your favorite movies and rest with your comfy pajamas. Picking all of your stuff at the restroom to finally go home, your cellphone rings with a message from Tom, your best friend. Suddenly, there are some butterflies in your stomach… looks like the universe heard you.
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It was a wonderful idea, right? Tom’s busy as hell since he got important roles and projects, and despite feeling really happy and proud of him, you miss him a lot and all of your quality times.
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Something about the nickname gave you so much comfort and warmth in your heart. Tom was picking you up by car at your drama school in a couple minutes and you couldn't help but feel anxious in a good way.
"Hi pretty boy!" - you grinned while hugging him and putting on your seatbelt. 
Tom was wearing a gray sweater matching wonderfully with his pretty blue eyes. Smiling at you, he responded:
"I’ve missed you a lot, honey. How’s your day going by far?" - He said and headed on his way to the nearest coffee shop. 
"I’m just exhausted. We're in the final stretch of the Christmas play and I've never felt so tired. It’s like, I don't know, but my mind needs a break." - You sighed, staring in front of you, looking at the light traffic on the busy avenue.
"And I’m here to make your wish come true" - he chuckled. - "We can grab some coffee and watch silly memes on the internet like we used to do, whatcha think?" - Tom is always so gentle and lovely. 
Your friendship was really a very healthy, comfortable thing... and every time you saw each other, it was as if you never had any problems in the world. It was just you and him, inside jokes and comfort. You wished you could say how important he is to you, but instead, you simply nodded while you both entered on the drive thru and took your order. 
Tom parked the car at the coffee shop and you spent hours updating each other on your busy routines, laughing over tiktoks, singing... There were also moments of comfortable silence between the two of you, the calm you loved and needed so much. 
He looked different this time. You didn't know if it was because you hadn't seen each other for a while, but you could feel that something inside you and the way you looked at him was different. A few sparks every time he smiled at you, and you swore you could feel the same coming from him too.
Her cell phone rings, breaking her out of her reverie, showing a call from your mother. You realize that you forgot to tell her that you would be coming home later today, but all you had to do was tell her that you were with Tom and her worry would disappear. She loved him. Sometimes it seemed like she loved him even more than you, her own daughter.
“Enjoy your date tho”, your mother said cheerfully on the other side of the line. You couldn't help but chuckle and feel your cheeks burn, as you looked at your friend who had a confused expression on his face. Before you could answer, she hangs up the phone.
"What does she said? Why were you laughing?" - Tom asked with a funny expression while taking a sip of your already watery iced coffee.
"It’s nothing! Curious boy." - you poke him.
"I don’t believe you. But I know you enough to know that one day, when you least expect it, you'll tell me like it's no big deal." - He teased as he pointed at you between each word.
"I want to show you a video that I forgot to send you." - you tried to change the direction of the conversation, wanting to avoid confessions that might come out too soon. Your mother was always right, and it made you wonder if you were actually on a date with Tom. 
After a burst of laughter, you find yourself in a awkward silence trying to catch your breath. “It’s time”, you thought.
“Enjoy your date”, my mom said at the phone. - you finally confess, avoiding his gaze.
Tom looks at you with a surprised, but fun and provocative expression:
"So… are we on a date? Kinda looks like one to me." 
You can't hide your smile mixed with an expression of surprise and doubt. It's really impressive how Tom always found it easy to confess things, to be direct, but his goofy personality - which you loved - always confused you about whether he was being serious or not.
"I wouldn't mind if we actually were in one." - You said in almost a whisper, but he clearly listened.
Finally you find the courage to look into his eyes, and notice his calm smile looking into yours with admiration and affection.
"I thought you would never say that. You're a bit slow to even ask me on a date, frankly, buttercup!" - He scowled at you, making you laugh nervously. You're so lost in his "confession" that you can't even notice his hands on your thighs.
The comfortable silence that existed between the two of you suddenly became a little awkward. You take a deep breath, and slowly lean over him to join your lips in a calm kiss, with all the accumulated affection. He reciprocates by taking one of his hands to your face and stroking your hair with the other.
If there was any doubt about his feelings towards you before, it disappeared at that moment.
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amaranthineghost · 5 months
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| UNDER THE MISTLETOE ( logan sargeant. ) |
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ꕥ pairing: logan sargeant x reader
ꕥ summary: life-long friends who always swore they'd never have feelings find themselves under a mistletoe.
ꕥ authors note: contemplated making this a lando imagine but it's so logan coded and there needs to be more imagines for logan cus he's so <3 (not proofread)
will be making a christmas imagine for lando and maybe another driver, not sure which one yet. also thinking of a mini series for 400 followers (tysm!) so if you have any ideas or requests, let me know <3
SNOW FLUTTERED AGAINST THE WIND. she'd tugged his arm, pulling him along the frost-covered wonderland. her arm outstretched to point out the dazzling christmas lights strung along the concrete path.
he watched her with admiration, he wouldn't notice he was, neither would she. but the other drivers sure did, their girlfriends too. the number of times they'd nudge each other with their elbows to point out the childhood friends, who stood too close to be considered just that.
they always denied it, pushing the idea of being anything more than what they were far away from their minds because they simply didn't want to admit it. not to each other anyways.
but they saw how he looked at her, like she was brighter than all the lights that shined around him, prettier than all the ornaments hung on various evergreens with snow dusting the branches, sparkling more than the snow when the light hit it just perfectly.
they saw how closely he stood to her, eventually lacing his hand with hers, laughing at how cold her hands were in contrast to the warmth of his. he'd slip his interlaced hand with hers into his puffer jacket pocket, noticing her relieving sigh at the warmth, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile.
the way his eyes flickered over her figure. the contrast of snow flecked through her dark hair, the lights reflection off her iris as her pupils dilated while watching the display in awe. the way she wore his williams racing jacket, though now christmas themed.
he hadn't realized how much time he'd spent just staring at her. he'd memorized every freckle of her face, the way her mouth creased and eyes crinkled when she smiled, the way her hair fell.
countless pictures had been shown to him of the pair, asking him 'if you're not in love, then explain this.' he couldn't, shaking his head with a nervous chuckle and the heat rushing to his face. maybe he was in love with her, he knew he should admit, but couldn't bring himself in worry that it'd force all the years of their friendship down the drain.
but it didn't stop him from hiding his smile every time he'd get a comment on social media about how cute the couple were, even when they weren't together. his cheeks would hurt from how much he scrolled through the comments, nervously biting his nails as he scanned the words from fans. new fans would mistake them as being together and he didn't mind, he actually felt his heart skip a beat every time he read something like it.
he'd scoff playfully at the comments for him to make a move already, but he was comfortable. watching christmas light shows with his girl—just his friend. but he'd secretly hope for more.
"they're so clueless," alex commented to his friend beside him, earning an elbow to the gut from his beloved girlfriend, lily. he winced, mouthing an 'ow' as she glared up at him. she thought it was sweet how obliviously in love the two were because they were in their own world, she wanted to protect that peace.
"how long do you think it'll take them to finally realize?" george commented, eyeing the couple beside him while his arm was around carmen.
"honestly, never." he shrugged, his answer was honest because he didn't think they'd have it in them to ruin the sanctity of their friendship for something more, even though they desired it.
"honestly," george had started by mocking alex, but had nothing to follow, "yeah." he'd exhale deeply, his hands moving to the warmth of his pockets.
they'd continue to walk behind the couple—who weren't a couple, but so obviously needed to be. they'd notice what the two were walking into before them.
but he'd be lost in his thoughts, contently staring at the girl's face lit up with the light that shined off christmas lights—and of course, excitement.
he hadn't noticed her slowed pace, her neck craned upwards, her muffled voice as if water separated them.
his name repeated from her lips, "logan." she simply said when his hearing focused back on her, his eyes unmoving on her face, "look."
he watched her lips part with a smile, not understanding her point of stopping in the middle of the pathway till he too looked where her eyes had.
tied neatly with red ribbon and decorated sparsely with berries of a matching color was the green of mistletoe. his heart skipped a beat and they'd stay staring up at it in a comfortable silence and realization.
he gulped softly, he felt the pounding in his chest as he turned to look back at her, finding her already staring with big eyes and parted lips, he'd realize now the sparkly gloss.
"well?" she'd question, and she'd watch his face closely, how his mouth would open, but nothing but utter gibberish spilled from his lips.
he nervously looked back and forth between her and the decoration before she'd realize his uselessness in such a situation. she'd rolled her eyes, pulling him in by the collar of his puffer coat till his lips met hers.
his eyes slowly closed as he registered what was happening. his hand pressured the back of her head, grasping strands of her hair between his fingers, and she squealed against his lips. hers were cold, tasting of mint and he felt the freezing gloss tingling against his.
he felt her hands along the sides of his head, their noses pressing together and the push and pull of their lips that moved in sync. his body became pressed on hers and it was like they were the only people in the world. they might've well have been.
and when they'd reluctantly part, clouds of their warm breath met in the middle as she stared up at him expectantly. he'd gulp again, a stuttering mess.
"fuck—be my girlfriend?" he'd manage out, maybe not exactly how he pictured because he'd imagine this scenario hundreds of times, but none like this.
she'd laugh at his nervousness, her arms wrapping around his neck as she'd exclaimed him, "yes."
his arms enclosed around her, his chin on her shoulder and he let out a massive sigh of relief as he saw the others cheering in the back.
"finally!" alex would call out with his hands curved around his mouth.
"told you so."
"whatever, take the damn money."
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lilystyles · 1 year
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old friends.
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part one of the no strings attached series by @lilystyles
no strings attached masterlist & main masterlist xxx
authors note i’m aussie so i have no idea what england/london (where this fic is set) is actually like. so if i get it wrong i apologise i’ve never been there! also, i know harry didn’t go to uni and became famous way younger than in this fic but for the sake of the plot pls ignore that! and gif credits to the original owner as always. make sure to follow if you want to see part two!
brief description harry and y/n are old friends who reunite and quickly pick right back up where they left off. new tensions arise and a deal is struck up.
warnings! mentions of sex, smut (m! receiving, dry humping, kissing, fingering), swearing, alcohol abuse and overall just a mature read. 5kish words (i didn't mean to make it this long whoops enjoy)
inexperienced!virgin!reader x fwb!harry
* * * * *
Maybe getting with him wasn’t the best idea. Y/n could admit that. 
She knew getting involved with one of her oldest friends and messing with the friend group dynamic was a dangerous game, they’d all been mates for years, and she had taken it into account before they struck up the deal. But there was just something about Harry that she couldn’t help but be drawn to. 
She’d known him since her they were kids. They’d grown up together from the awkward stages all the way up to now. He was this successful rockstar who the world simply adored, and she had always known he’d do something great with himself ever since she’d been old enough to comprehend the idea itself. She was studying still at university in a degree she loved. They had made it in this world! So far from their small village where they had dreamed up their futures. If only the two children could see them now. 
Though they were never best friends when they were younger they had always ran in the same circle and saw a lot of each other for as long as Y/n could remember it. It was only during University that they had become close friends. They had even been roommates for a year there. They both only knew each other then so it made sense for them to be together a lot.
Even through all those years, nothing had ever been more than platonic between them. Sure, Y/n had known he was handsome, and overall a lovely person but she knew that he was her friend more importantly. She valued that. She loved her friends, all of them. 
She’ll admit that there had been moments where she’d briefly thought of Harry in that way. Usually, when they were out drinking and he’d take care of her, only a few times when they were roommates and they shared late nights talking on the couch, but overall she kept it at bay. Knowing that friendship was more important to her than almost anything.
Not to mention Harry was a very loved man, he’d had many girlfriends in the years Y/n had known him. They had never particularly warmed to her, especially when they were roommates they all despised her. Honestly though, back then they had nothing to worry about. Y/n was too scared to try anything. 
But there was always some sort of tension there. Y/n never understood it really, not until a good friend of the both of them, James, said that it was just the way Harry treated her. He called her pet names, was constantly affectionate towards her (especially drunk), loved to make her laugh, and during Uni they were inseparable. When his fame skyrocketed she saw much less of him, understandably, and she got busy with her studies.
When he came home for a break from touring and showed up at the group’s Christmas party he saw her for the first time in about two years. They had drifted but not in the sense that it was awkward, more so that it was like when they saw each other it was like not a moment had passed. She smiled widely and stood up from the couch surprised to see him in there in front of her and not just splashed on a billboard. 
She was still Y/n, but she was older. She wasn’t in a baggy old shirt with her eyes glued to a computer typing away. She was here in a tight red jumper that showed a sliver of skin and a tattoo by her hip that he had never known about, with these jeans that hugged her perfect body. Her cheeks were just as rosy as before, her eyes just as doe-like, lips just as sweet only covered in a red gloss. She was still Y/n, but Harry felt like he was back in primary school when he’d pulled on her pigtail. She was fucking gorgeous and their history made it even better. He knew her well, so well. That would never change.
Even having not seen or heard from each other properly for nearly two years he instantly made his way to her and pulled her into a tight hug. His ring-covered hands were on the exposed skin of her lower back, as she giggled into his chest happily in a welcome surprise. 
His deep voice rumbled. “Hi, stranger.”
“Haz,” She sighed. It’d been a long time since he’d heard that nickname. She pulled back to look at him; he was just as beautiful as before, more tattooed, more glamorous but still the beautiful boy she remembered.
“Hi.” She said softly, eyelashes fluttering.
Nothing happened that night, not then. They just talked until the sun rose, catching up it was like no time had passed. He was still as charming and funny and she was still as coy and kind. 
New Year’s Eve was the next time they saw each other after reuniting. He found Y/n sadly sitting on the balcony of their friend Daisy’s apartment. She was in this little silver disco-ball dress with tall boots, a cigarette in her mouth. He’d been ordered by the others to find her. It was freezing out here.
“What are you doing out here, Love?”
She turned and he could see the glassy wash of her eyes. She looked so pretty, even when she cried. 
“Nothing.” She replied, shoulders slumped over.
“Missing the fun inside. Aren’t you cold, Babe?” His hand stroked her bare shoulder softly. He felt the goosebumps, and the warmth of his hand was welcome.
She shrugged. “I’m fine, H.”
“What’s got a gorgeous girl like you frownin’, hmm?” He knew why. Daisy had told him. The guy she had been dating recently had stood her up, without so much as a text. She’d checked his Instagram story to see he was off somewhere else with some other woman. It wasn’t that serious and after the Christmas party, she had questioned if she was even truly attracted to him. No one made her laugh like Harry, or feel so special. He made anyone feel like they were special.
“Harry?”
“Y/n?” He replied. 
“Be honest, I need a male opinion.” He walked towards her taking off his leather jacket to put on her body, she smiled up at him. Grateful for the warmth, the smell was comforting and suddenly it was years ago. The first time they went to a New Year’s party during University. Deja vu.
“Y/n, how do you wear such tiny clothes in this weather!” Exclaimed Harry. He was rugged up in a big brown wool coat, and a crimson scarf bundled around his neck, his jumper was this old led zeppelin one that Y/n loved on him. His pants were old flared jeans and he had some loafers on. 
Y/n looked up at him, they were on the balcony of an apartment complex. It was a few minutes until the countdown then it would be 2014. “Fashion is pain, Haz. C’mon. I look great don’t I?” She gestured down to her red dress which was a similar shade to his scarf. She had a tiny shawl over her shoulders but other than that she wasn’t prepared for the snowy evening.
“I can’t argue there but you are the biggest baby when you get sick, I can’t have you catching a cold.” He shrugged off his big coat and wrapped her up in it. It smelled of him; mint, cigarettes and a spicy woodsy smell.
“Says the one who I had to spoonfeed!”
“Oh shoosh. Now I need your advice about Mia she’s been eyeing me up all night….” 
“Of course, I owe you, you helped so much with my girl problems in uni.” He seemed to be thinking of that night too.
“Is…” She sighed and looked away from him to stare off at the city lights. The smell of his jacket was just like the wool one, the comforting mood was still there. “Is a girl- a girl being inexperienced…in bed…pathetic?”
He frowned, confused. “No of course not. A lot of people like to wait or don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t care, and that’s okay. It’s not pathetic at all.” Harry had a few drinks that night so he didn’t connect the dots straight away at what Y/n was saying.
“I’ve heard differently.” And she had, her experience with boys was sad.
He frowned before his eyes widened. He was honestly surprised. “Wait, Y/n, is this- is this about you?”
“Please don’t look at me like that, Harry I already feel pathetic enough.” She covered her face with her hands.
He got closer to her. “You are far from pathetic, Lovie.”
“You don’t understand. Anyway, you’ve had loads of sex your Harry Styles for god’s sake!”
“Y/n, define inexperienced,” He sat beside her, knee pressing into hers. 
She winced. “I’ve only ever kissed people, ‘never gone further than that. Never even had a boyfriend, you know that.”
Harry smiled, endearingly. She hadn’t changed, he felt like he was back in first year of university when she was complaining about how no guys asked her out. “So?”
“So the reason my date didn’t show up was because I told him I was a virgin yesterday.” It clicked now, the cold wind must have been sobering him up.
“He’s a total wanker. You are not pathetic by any means because of that. And anyway, virginity is a social construct to control and devalue women!” He said, angry at this guy who he’d never even met. It was like when one of the lads on the rugby team made a bet to get in her pants in their second year of university. 
He’d never been so angry.
“Really?” She said looking up with a frown.
He grabbed her hand giving it a tight squeeze, the metal of his rings cold against her warm hand. 
“Promise! It’s actually attractive in a way—” He was cut off by the door slamming open.
“Hey guys it's one minute till midnight!” Said Penny interrupting their moment, she rushed back inside again to hide from the cold. Motioning for them to join the rest of them inside. 
They could both hear the chanting inside. Neither made a move to go inside.
“10! 9! 8!”
Harry looked at Y/n, and she smiled gently at him leaning close to him. He tucked a strand of her hair back behind her ear.
“What happened to your date anyway?” She asked shifting the topic. 
He shrugged, to be honest, he didn’t know or care. Y/n had been on his mind the whole damn night.  “I think she went home.”
“5! 4! 3!”
“Oh.” She said, looks like they both had no luck this year.
“Can I kiss you?”
That caught her off guard, but she nodded when she heard the cheers for Happy New Year inside, remembering. “For luck, right?”
To be honest he’d forgotten it was New Year’s. When the final count happened he leaned forward and kissed her, it lasted longer than it should have between two friends. But they were too drunk to care.
When they pulled apart fireworks shot off in the sky. They watched in silence still close to each other, warmth radiating. They were in their own little world.
Y/n looked up at him when the fireworks stopped, a special look in her eyes. Mischief and drunkenness. 
“Do you want to come over to mine? I’ve moved since the last time you saw me…”
He smirked, a glint in his eye. “Let’s go.”
When they arrived at Y/n’s new flat Harry paid the cabby wishing him a happy new year. She was still wrapped in his leather coat as she waited for him impatiently on the path. She grabbed his hand to guide the way when the taxi drove away. She was on the third floor.
It was this old London apartment. Beautiful and in a really nice area. 
“You friends with everyone in the building? I wouldn’t be surprised, you are certainly a charmer.” He jested as they sat in the lift on the way up. Harry knew how she had a habit of chatting with everyone. When they lived together she made the entire floor gingerbread and Christmas cards. 
“Oh shut up, you’re the real charmer of us both. Girls scream when they see you walking down the street!” She pulled him inside. Taking off her scarf and boots before turning on one of the lamps. It gave a orange glow to the room.
“You know I don’t mind when girls scream.” He teased.
This made Y/n blush. He noticed and giggled at her pinching her cheek. 
“Oh, leave me alone.” She pouted peeling the coat off.
They took their coats off and hung them on the rack. Y/n showed him around the flat quickly. It was a vast improvement from her old place. Her old place was this shoe box, it was also in a really scary area which always worried Harry when they were friends. He helped her move in before he went on his first tour. She couldn’t afford anywhere as nice as this before. She’d kept a lot of her old stuff. It was certainly her place and if someone brought him here and he had to guess who it belonged to, he’d say her. 
First, he saw the living room. It had this great big red 70s leather couch with knitted rugs on top and a gorgeous original fireplace. He was surprised to see a photograph of the pair of them on the mantle above it. He walked over, they were probably 15 in the photograph. It was beside a few other old ones.
“Look how cute you look, Love.” He lifted it up and pointed at her face.
She groaned. “Are you serious? Look at my hair there! Was not doing me any favours at all.”
He turned to face her his hand finding her hair. “I’ve always loved your hair.”
Y/n kissed his cheek in response, it was more flirty and sloppy than she had intended. He kissed hers back. 
Then there was a moment where they just stared.
Until softly she spoke, “Harry?”
“Yeah, Babe?” 
“D’you wanna have sex with me?”
He was startled, his hand was still in her hair thumb on her jaw. “Do you?”
She flinched stepping away. “Sorry, that was stupid of me. But seriously you’re hot and funny, and I trust you more than any other guy, I mean who could be better for this? I’m drunk and your drunk, we can just say it was a one-night stand and carry on being friends, can’t we? Call it a drunken fling? A favour even.”
“Y/n—”
She was rambling now. “Oh no! You think I’m pathetic, don’t you? Begging you for sex? Jesus, what am I thinking? Look, let’s just blame the tequila and go to sle—”
He leaned forward interrupting her with a kiss to shut her up for a second. She froze momentarily until she decided to kiss him back, his hands slid down her dress as he pulled her closer to him. Her hands found his chest and the kiss began to deepen.
Only when Y/n had started to feel lightheaded did he pull away. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers grazing her warm cheeks. “Are you sure you want this?”
Y/n nodded. “Do you want to? Don’t feel pressured, H.”
“Of course I do. You’ve been my wet dream since we were in high school.” She giggled and flung forward pushing him back onto the couch.
“I am?”
Her hands found their way to his jumper and took it off him and he grunted in some form of agreement. She moved from his lips to his neck kissing down the column of it. Sucking on the adam’s apple gently, he sighed as his hands moved to the tops of her thighs. He was totally content right now.
For the first time in a while he was the calm one and she this was raw hungry energy.
“Why haven’t we done this sooner?” He rasped moving her hips against his thigh, she whimpered at the contact. His jean-covered leg had the perfect amount of friction against her thin underwear. She may have been a virgin but that didn’t mean she hadn’t fantasised a lot about this. If anything that only made it worse.
“I don’t- ah- dunno.” She sighed into his ear.
He felt a throb in his pants. It felt like a dream, a filthy one. One he’d probably had before. The number of nights he’d masturbated to something like this was too many to count. Y/n’s tits were at eye level as she humped on his leg needily and he thought he might just cum right then and there.
Her dress was hiked up to her hips and he could see the flash of pink lace, when he leaned forward to kiss her exposed chest he saw the hint of a red bra. 
She stopped for a second hands moving from his hair to his chest. “Can I touch you, H?”
“‘Course you can. Be good f’me and touch me.” She slid off him, her clit throbbing at his voice. All deep, rough, and dreamy.
On her knees, she placed a hand on either thigh gently rubbing them. Staring at the large bulge in his pants she grew nervous. The dim lighting of the living room meant it was hard for him to see her entire face but he could see her eyes widen at how large he was. 
“You okay there, Lovie?”
She placed her small hand on it, “‘M perfectly fine, Harold.”
His chuckle quickly turned into a choked moan when she palmed him roughly. She looked up at him for approval to keep going. “Yes,” He said, head thrown back on the couch.
She unzipped his jeans revealing black briefs which she’d seen him wander around in when they lived together. He liked to be free of clothes at home. But she had never seen him fully naked before.
She slid her warm hand in there, Harry hissed when she wrapped her hand around his throbbing cock, he felt so sensitive to her touch. 
“You sure you want to do this, Angel?” She could feel how much he wanted her. He was throbbing and heavy in her hand. His body was begging for her but spoke softly with no pressure. 
“Harry, please, I really want to.” She sighed staring up at him, feeling the weight of him heavy on her hand.
This had to be a dream. He thought. She was literally on her knees begging for his cock in her mouth. Big e/c eyes looking up at his face. 
“Needy,” He teased knowing he was probably worse right now. “touch me.”
She didn’t care if she seemed needy the feelings she was having right now were too much, she pulled him out and it sprung up hitting his bare stomach. Her thighs clenched and Harry noticed, smirking.
“Jesus Christ, Harry.” She said in disbelief, hands itching to touch him, “No wonder you always act so cocky,”
He laughed throwing his head back. “You sure you want to keep going?”
“Yes, but can you..” Suddenly she had gotten all shy again, like on the balcony. Embarrassed as if she hadn’t been humping his leg moments ago and whining in his ear for him to make her come.
“Don’t get all shy on me now, baby. Say what’s on your mind.”
“Can you…” She paused again.
“Can I what?”
“Can you show me what to do? Tell me. I mean I want you t’feel good, but I’ll probably be really bad at it. I’ve never done this.”
His hand touched her cheek, thumb stroking her face. “Whatever you do I’m sure I’ll love it, I’ll tell you if I don’t like it. Just try, m’not going to judge. Don’t worry, I’m just your old friend Harry.”
“Just Harry.” She confirmed, easing the anxiety in her stomach a bit.
“Good girl.” He praised gently and she leaned forward kissing the pink tip of cock. He let out a hitched breath. 
“You okay?” She asked.
He looked at her confused. “I didn’t ask if this was okay with you. Do you want this?”
“Y/n it’s more than okay.” He replied breathlessly at the sight. “I’m so fuckin’ horny for you right now.” He laughed lightly as if this was a normal thing to do with an old friend. Like it was just a catch-up. 
That was all the confirmation she needed before spat on the head and began to stroke him with her hand, the natural lubrication making it easier to go fast. She really only knew stuff from porn. Which was always just intense and messy deepthroating. She wondered if Harry wanted her to be like that. But honestly, she wasn’t sure she could take all of him her mouth. He was just so big. 
He was moaning quietly as she kept a steady rhythm. One of his hands was squeezing the couch tightly and the other was holding her free hand that touch his knee. It felt so good. 
When she leaned forward and licked a long strip along the length of him, he groaned running a hand through his messy hair. “So good Y/n,” 
Y/n loved how vocal he was with her, it eased her worries about being bad. It made her wetter than she could imagine.
When she began to actually suck him he went feral. His hands move into her hair holding it from her face, he had to stop himself from moving his hips up and fucking her mouth. He knew he needed to be gentle right now, but it was feeling too good to believe. 
“Jesus Christ, Y/n, you’re too good at that.”
He was moaning every second and every time he let out a particularly pleasured noise Y/n made sure to do it again. Harry opened his eyes and looked down at the sight below him, Y/n’s dainty red-painted hand was stroking the part she couldn’t fit in her mouth and every now and then cupping his balls, her tongue was lapping up every inch of precum that dripped out of him. Kissing his thighs and cock whenever she came up for air. Her red lipstick was smudged and her eyes watering. 
Her legs were clenched together and every time he moaned she got wetter for him, she could feel it dripping down her thigh, she was aching to be touched and honestly, this would be something she would masturbate to later. 
She was steadily jerking and squeezing him just the right and even amount, as she grinned wickedly up at him.
“You sure you’ve never done this?” He said, whimpering when she licked up another drip of precum.
She laughed. Harry had to say she was better than he thought, not because he thought it would be bad. Simply because most people make the mistake of being too rough and using teeth or being too soft and slow. Y/n was perfect and attentive, she’d learnt in mere minutes how to get him absolutely fucked. He could hardly keep his eyes open. 
She began sucking again this time going a bit further, testing her limits. When her nose felt the tickle of hair on his lower navel, she came back up breathing heavily and repeated it a few more times. Harry was moaning even louder now.
“‘M close,” He gestured for her to stop so that he’d finish on his stomach, but she didn’t stop, she went a bit faster. He somehow felt even closer to cumming when she didn’t move, meaning she wanted him to cum in her mouth, just the thought was enough to drive him over the edge. She did a mix of everything she’d been doing and Harry was getting louder and louder each second. It took everything in him not to thrust up and push her head down. 
It was the eye contact that got him to finish. She looked up with absolute adoration in her eyes, enjoying her view of his heaving chest, and he couldn’t help himself.
When Y/n felt the hot spurts of his cum fall down her throat, his hips jutted in pleasure. He hadn’t been able to control it. He cried out, “Y/n, fuck!”
When she finally pulled away cum dribbled down her chin and she quickly swiped it on her thumb, holding eye contact as she sucked it. “Mm.” She said. 
He felt limp and breathless. “C’mere,” He said and grabbed her. Her knees ached but she didn’t care, knowing they’d be bruised tomorrow. He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her, she was surprised by that. She’d heard from friends that a lot of guys really hated to kiss after a blowjob but Harry had not one single care.
“Your fuckin’ perfect, Y/n.” He said flipping them over as he kissed down her chest. “Can I touch you now, please?”
She nodded.
He stopped looking up, “Words, baby,”
“Yes. Of course, you can.” She said. “Get me out of this please,” She gestured to the dress and he obliged happily, throwing it across the room and nipping at her skin. Kissing every stretch mark, scar and mole. God, she was just perfect. 
“You are so beautiful, Y/n. And that mouth,” His thumb touched the bottom lip.
She blushed. “Oh, shoosh.”
“I’ve never cum so hard in my life y’know, I mean it.”
She giggled. “Really?”
“Yes, now accept the compliment and let me help you out.” He almost ordered and she obeyed. 
He sucked on her neck, nipping at it as she hissed, he soothed her by swiping his tongue back over that spot. Her hands were scratching his back as he moved down to her lacey undies. A pink bow stared back at him. 
He touched the waistband fiddling with the bow. “Cute.”
“Thanks, H.” She replied, trying not to shy away. 
“He’s an idiot.” Harry muttered mostly to himself, Y/n frowned confusedly. 
Her hand moved from his back to his hair, gently touching him. “What?”
“That wanker who stood y’up, I mean fuckin’ hell, did you do all this for him? Got all sexy n’ wear these jus’ f’him do that ta’ ya’?” His words were slurring more, he was so drunk on her and tired from his orgasm.
She sighed, “It’s for you,” she whispered. If the flat wasn’t dead silent he might’ve missed it. 
“Say that again.” 
She looked down at him. “I- It’s stupid, Harry, forget it.”
He moved away from her soaking underwear. “No, tell me.”
She shut her eyes, knowing how stubborn he was, and that didn’t change even in the bedroom. “I did it for you. It’s always for you.”
“All this for lil’ ol’ me?” He teased her loving how shy she got even after what she’d just done to him. “Beginnin’ to think you only want to fuck me.” He bit the waistband of her underwear and she couldn’t take it anymore.
He knew that wasn’t true but he loved to see her roll her eyes. 
She whined, “Harry, please.”
“Please what?” He looked up at her. His green eyes were mostly just pupil now. 
She tugged his hair, “I need you to do something, please, just help me,”
“Shh, Love, I know.” He took the underwear off and saw the mess between her legs. Another thing he’d be jerking off to later, her inner thighs were soaked and she was dripping. His middle finger slid up the lips collecting the messy slick. 
“For me?”
She sighed, with a shiver. “Only you.”
He began to rub her clit at that comment, feeling her throb against him. She was whimpering and moaning softly and it was just how he imagined but even better. Her hands tugged his brown locks and he moved a hand to her mouth. Holding up two fingers, ring and middle, against her lips. 
“Suck please.” He said softly. He didn’t think they’d need it considering there was a damp spot underneath her already, he just liked to watch her do it. 
When they were wet enough he pulled them back out and slid one inside her dripping hole. She cried out, 
“Shit.”
He pumped slowly, letting her grow used to the sting. “Yours are so much bigger than mine.” She whined desperately. 
He began to pick up the pace when her hips moved against his hand and slowly added the second finger when he felt she was ready. When she began to squirm from the pleasure he used his other hand to hold her hips flat and he kissed her stomach every now and then.
Offering words of encouragement. “Yes, that’s it, you can take it.”
When she began to grow closer he could tell by the way she clenched around his fingers. 
She whimpered when he gave a rough circle on her clit. “Fuck me Harry, feels so good.”
He started to go deeper and harder, feeling her drip onto him. “So perfect like this. Takin' m' fingers.” 
He was taking mental pictures so he would never forget her face. All fucked out and filled with pleasure. When he curled his fingers inside her, grazing that spongey spot that made her scream and curl her toes, she moved a hand to his wrist not stopping him just in a warning.
“M’ close, H.”
He smirked. “Cum for me, Baby.” His other hand found her clit and sped up the process. It was seconds later that she felt it come on, a wave washing over her entire body. 
“Fuck! I’m coming!” She cried body twitching and squirming wildly as he helped her through it. 
“Harry!” She screamed, and he felt her squirt all over his hand as she finished. 
Once he finished helping her ride it out he stopped, slowly pulling his hand away and looking up at her. Her eyes were shut and she looked completely ruined. He was happy with that, it meant he’d done his job.
“You okay?”
She opened her eyes. “I didn’t know I could ever feel that good.” She said seriously and he smiled. 
“Was m’pleasure, Love.”
When she sat up, she noticed how wet his hand was and the dampness beneath before her eyes widened in embarrassment. “Oh, I’m sorry that’s embarrassing I didn’t mean to—”
“Embarrassing? Please Y/n I nearly came my pants. You’re so fucking hot. Look at you. Delicious.” 
She kissed him pulling him close too shy to say anything more.
“Do you want to stay the night?” She asked when she pulled away. He nodded and they, still kind of drunk, made their way to her bed stripping off the rest of their clothes and flopping into bed. 
He grabbed her and pulled her into his chest. “Happy New Year, Babe.”
“Happy New year.”
The following morning Y/n woke up alone in her bed. Her head thumped angrily punishing her for last night. She began to wonder if it was all a drunken fever dream but when she got up to wash her face she saw the hickey he’d left her on her neck, and she saw that the bathroom was slightly damp, meaning he’d had a shower before leaving. 
She tried not to feel hurt at him leaving without a goodbye but she did remember saying last night that it would be just a one-time thing as friends. She didn’t know what she expected really. She had a quick shower washing the night off, she was sticky and smelt of sex. 
When she got out she wandered into her kitchen in just a towel sluggishly, bent over to see the contents of her fridge all she had was off milk and a leftover Chinese takeaway container. She was hungry. She sighed, knowing she’d have to go out and buy food. When she turned she jumped letting out a small shout. 
Harry was sitting at the table with some coffee and pastries, he’d scared the shit out of her.
“Jesus! How long were you there?”
“The whole time, waited for you to notice me. I got us some food and coffee, didn’t want to wake you. You looked so peaceful.”
She suddenly felt subconscious in just this small towel, in the daylight. Her eye bags were probably heavy and she doubted she looked pretty. He noticed her squirm.
“I hope you don’t mind that I used your shower.”
She shook her head memories flooding back from last night. She felt embarrassed. “‘Course not.”
“I’m gonna change I’ll be right back.” Before he could say anything else she’d left. 
When she came back in a knitted jumper and some red boxer shorts she’d bought for sleep, he smiled up at her. “I got your favourite, well, I hope it’s still your favourite anyway.”
He’d even gone to the effort to put it on a little china plate. It was a custard danish pastry. She smiled butterflies flooding her tummy, she placed her hand there without noticing before she turned to him. 
“You didn’t have to do all this, H. I know that it was just a drunken thing we did. You don’t have to be so nice to me. I understand how these things go.”
She remembered the times she’d have to pretend Harry was out when all he’d done is hide in her room until the girls from the night before left their flat. 
He looked up, slightly hurt by that. Did she really think that of him? “You’re my oldest friend, I wouldn’t do that.”
She frowned before sitting beside him and grabbing the coffee he’d brought. “Things won’t change, right? We are still Y/n and Harry, aren’t we?”
He placed a hand on her thigh. “Of course, always, bun.”
She smiled up at him taking a bite of her pastry, some custard falling down her chin. Harry got a flash of last night of her moaning his name and he wondered if what he said was true. Would he be able to move on from this?
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alwaysshallow · 3 months
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how you get the girl
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Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x female reader
READ ON AO3
You spend Valentine's Day with your best friend, perfectly oblivious to his feelings to you. (3k)
A/N: an exchange gift for @tokusho!! hope you like it; Kyle is a sweetheart!! a sweetheart that loved you from the very start, it would be proper to say. I wouldn't be myself if I wouldn't include smut in it lmao
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People love winter for multiple reasons.
First, school doesn't bug them that much. Sure, there’s always something to do, but it’s calmer around Christmas time and February, when all of the exams are over. Time for yourself, learning new hobbies or expanding current ones. Cute.
It's also the best to spend this time on travelling—around the world or near the area someone lives in. No matter where, it’s good to take a breath and visit your family or friends, too.
Or just to wander around your town, taking in nature and thinking about mundane things, far from the school, far from the boring reality someone is in. When you can just be amazed by the view right in front of you, thinking how small the world really is, how grateful you are to be here.
Secondly, it's a cozy season. You can get lost in watching those silly romcom movies, trying to bake something edible from the various cooking shows that are out here. Wanting to be at least half as good as Gordon Ramsay is, or to serve the best cake in the world. Everyone makes it so effortless, it’s only natural to want to try it too.
Does it work?
Well, based on your own experience, you're certainly better at it, but cinnamon rolls are by far the best thing you can make—mostly because it can't be too sweet. And your main problem? Making things way too sweet. Not because you like it that way, not because you have someone who likes it that way, you just… Well, let's say, you like to skip the amount of things you have to add.
Everything is "on eye" and maybe it works with cooking, but certainly not baking.
All of those reasons could be your reasons why you would like winter. Could—because you have one that is way more important than baking or being alone.
Because this is the season when you see Kyle Garrick after months of being apart. You see his dumb smile whenever you open the door for him, how happy he is to be here. How he literally can’t wait to step into your house and be here for a couple of weeks since that’s how he uses his leave. Couple of days for other friends and catching around. The rest is for you.
Kyle is your friend from high school. Years spent together in the same classes, parties, he was—still is—a dear friend that had your back, and you had his, always, no matter how shitty the situation was.
Inseparable, that’s what you were. Attending the same practices, no matter if it was a football one, art classes or something else; you always were here for a good laugh, especially if you sucked at some activities.
Everyone around always saw you together. There were even a few rumors about you two dating, but it never came down to this, to being together despite years of flirting and a few innocent kisses, there and there. You two didn’t even talk about this, much to your dismay.
Maybe you would, if he didn’t leave for the military. Tough separation, leaving you on ice with no one to help you to get up and get your shit together because life doesn’t only depend on one boy that you’re hopelessly devoted to. Took a couple of months, but you eventually got used to it—being with him for a couple of days or weeks to see him leaving for another couple of months. Weeks.
You sometimes wonder if he has someone out there. Waiting there for him in the military, even if it’s forbidden at some point. Or, maybe he has some medic that always patches him up after the missions, a small smile at her lips, keeping his secrets. Keeping his bed warm, making the whole thing easier because she’s always gonna be around. No matter what.
“—and he’s just a moron.”
But maybe if he did have someone, he wouldn’t spend Valentine’s Day with you.
You look up at him, a confused look on your face, but you manage to give him a smile. He probably talks about the movie that you two are watching; a classic romcom, Love Actually, but you’re not sure. You got too lost in your thoughts to know who he is calling a moron and give it more than a second of your thinking.
He seems to know that. An arch of his eyebrows exposes him, appearing when he always thinks of something a little too much. Military habit, he once explained, but it makes you chuckle every time.
“Who’s a moron?” you ask, deciding not to act dumb—it wouldn’t work in front of him. Not when he knows the pattern of your thoughts, not when you two know each other inside out.
“Him. I would give up on a girl that’s taken, sure, especially if she’s nothing but eye candy. A stupid desire that would end the friendship. But he literally filmed her through the entire wedding,” he mutters, his fingers curling slowly the ends of your hair. He repeats the action several times, even if he talks. You think it’s soothing him in some way. “She had to mean everything for him.”
“It’s about the art of letting go. She was in love with his best friend, it’s… not that simple.” You shrug; for some reason, Kyle barks a laugh at that. Startled, you punch him with your elbow and you take a little distance. “What? You don’t agree? Come on, you wouldn’t do it.”
“Well, ‘m not the one to do it normally, but if I’d be obsessed enough to keep my eyes only on her, I might as well give it a better chance before she gets married,” he huffs. If you didn’t know him like you do, you’d suspect that there's a bitterness somewhere in it, the way he says it. Mad, almost like it’s about him, and a single thought about it makes you sick in your stomach. “Wouldn’t you?”
You gulp. It feels like an interrogation, not a simple talk between two best friends about a romantic comedy that you just watched. There’s a hardness in his tone, demand for answer. “No. I’d put his happiness before mine. If he’s happy, if he has plans that don't involve me in some way, maybe that’s only right. Especially if it’s like this for some time right now.”
It’s not the confession itself, it’s not your feelings with your heart that you put on a silver platter for him to take, but it speaks. It screams, suffocated so many years under the water because you don’t want to ruin anything that’s between you two. Maybe it would be easier in high school, maybe before that prom where he went with Lizzie instead of you, but it didn’t happen.
So, in your mind, it’s something that needs to be buried deep. Six feet underground, where you could meet your feelings from time to time with all the memories that followed it. When you’d eventually move on, but it doesn’t happen.
A small ding in the kitchen rescues you from the fiasco that could happen with this conversation; suddenly, you have to check on your cookies and decorate them, as you always have. Year by year, something sweet; a recompensation for being single so many years in a row.
It doesn’t take much time to have Kyle looming over you like a vulture, curious what you have here. It doesn’t take much time for him to help you; clumsily, but he does a cute job with decorating, even if it’s way too much cream there and there. You have no heart to tell him that, though. And, it doesn’t take him much time to think that’s way too boring for now, so he should do something different.
Something different: dance with you, like he always has. An old song playing from his phone, one hand on your waist, while the other hand travels to make you move. He doesn’t talk (he never does when you two dance, not unless you’re gonna start doing that), he just looks at you. Chocolate brown eyes staring into yours, like they’re trying to see something in yours.
“Boyfriend material,” you could say; and you do, without realizing it at first—Kyle’s smile gives it away.
“I mean, can’t say no to that.” He grins, happy. You, right now, want to kill yourself in some way. “I’m pretty useful in many ways, if I have to say so myself. I mean, just think of how many times you’ve been impressed with me already.” He chuckles, turning you around and around with seemingly no problem. He’s always like this; charming, boyish. Making you fall right into the trap with his eyes, straight up from a fairytale.
He is, in fact, from a fairytale. Too perfect to be real and too perfect to be single, guys like him are always snatched from the public. Kept close the heart because every woman in the world deserves someone like him.
“Your ego could be tempered, though.” You poke his chest (ridiculously hard chest), while he laughs again.
“Always charming. You love my ego,” he points out. You might not agree out loud, but in your mind? Oh, hell yes. Not debatable.
You’d give everything to love him properly. To cherish him, to make him happy when he’s on leave with kisses, gifts, with taking him to your family so he’ll have a scrap of normal life. To wake up beside him in bed, arms sneaked around you with a dose of protectiveness that he always has, even if it’s not the romantic one like you want it to be.
“And you’re thinking way too much, pretty,” he chuckles, leaning over you even more. The size difference between you two is evident and big, encouraging him. Always had, especially when he knows how much of an impact he has like that. “Care to share?”
“Usual shit,” you answer, clearing your throat. Two beats of silence pass, when he sighs and turns you around one more time, pulling you closer to himself. Chest to chest, or—your head to his chest, to be exact. You have to look up at him to see his eyes. “Kyle—”
“—is it about that movie we watched? You love someone that you can’t have?” He shoots a question at you; unexpected, a swift bullet going right through you. Making you tremble, feeling like you’re not in a warm house, but in the busy, cold street in London in your underwear only.
“No, it’s—”
“—Because if so, why didn’t you tell me? I bet there’s a way—”
“—there’s no way, that’s the problem. That’s the problem because you’re funny, handsome and you probably have someone here, way more interesting than me, so I don’t understand why you are here right now. I don’t, I won’t…” You breathe. There’s a lot in you right now, way too much to unload it right now.
“You love me?”
The choice of words, so carefully avoided by you the whole time, dawns on you. Makes an unpleasant feeling in your stomach, the presence of thousands of butterflies informing you that, in fact, you do love him. Always had, even if you denied to use these specific words.
“Since high school.” It’s a quiet confession. Almost shy, but you look him straight in the eye when you say that, taking a step back when he takes a step forward.
“And why you… didn’t tell me sooner?”
“Wanted to. But when you took that girl to the prom, something…” You sigh. Taking a moment because for the first time, you need to be honest about your feelings. “I don’t know, something snapped. I thought it would ruin everything between us, I thought it’s not worth it to say that I want something more when you want someone else. And, after you got around the idea of being in the military—”
He steals the rest of the words with a kiss. Soft, indicating you don’t need to say more than you’ve already said because it’s all he needs to know, actually. It’s the first time he does it completely sober, not driven by alcohol, curiosity or some dare—it’s something that he wants to do, and you can feel it on your lips. The hot feeling of desire, when your hands travel under his t-shirt, where you didn’t have access earlier.
“Took her only because Jake said he’s going with you. I had no idea that he was lying,” he whispers out. Nervous, like he might spill some secret, while you just can’t keep yourself from smiling. “I wanted this,” he points at you and himself after another kiss, “since I’ve fuckin’ left. Got sick thinking of other bloody bastards that could—”
“Thinking too much?” you interrupt him, reminding him of his words from earlier. Words that, right now, seem even more appropriate given the situation between you two and how unimportant the past is.
Garrick huffs with disbelief, amused. “A fucking minx you are, y’know that?”
He doesn’t let you say anything in response, as his teeth clack against yours when he kisses you, hastily, like a man starved. Hands going around your waist just to transfer the two of you to your bedroom, decorated for Valentine's Day, unintentionally.
And maybe it makes sense, when you think of everything he has done for you, when he’s on top of you, placing a map of kisses on your body. Maybe it makes sense how he always brought you something on Valentine’s Day, making you feel special. Always saying that it’s a “commercial event” and nothing else, just a day, even if he always brought you flowers, teddybears and chocolates.
How he always spent it on doing your favorite things. Ice rink, going to a match, movies, it didn’t matter—what mattered was you. How he didn’t deny that you’re a couple when some strangers cooed that you two look absolutely perfect with each other. Only a big smile on his face, arm around you, protectively. Making sure that you’re here with him, not anywhere else.
He always keeps you close, even right now, insisting on holding hands when he fucks you, making you fall in love with the idea. Kyle moves slowly, like he wants to remember every inch of your body for the first time you’re so close with him, but it doesn’t last long. It doesn’t because it takes a couple of your moans and he goes mad crazy about the whole thing.
Between the sudden rough, fast pace of his thrusts, he talks a lot. You don’t get much of it, melted into a puddle of your own thoughts; you wanted it so bad. Fantasized, touched yourself to the thought of him to have him right here, right now, and now he’s rutting into you like a maniac. Spreading you open like it’s not even a challenge for him, which makes it easy to ignore the first pain of his cock in you.
When one of his hands circles around your throat (one hand still holding yours, fingers intertwined, like he insisted on doing), you pay more attention to his words, even if they’re incoherent. Messy, he lets every thought flow out of his mind, no matter if they have end or not, no matter if he said something similar or not. You are the one thing that entangles them, even if his words make you feel more and more weak in your knees. How good you are for him, how he’s not gonna give this pussy to anyone, how much your body will make him lose his shit.
He makes the whole thing way more intimate than it already is, luring you into the endless pleasure with him, when he leaves hickeys on your skin, a mark that he was here. Making you depend on him, intoxicating like a couple of colorful drinks, always making you dizzy, but nonetheless, you always want more, until you’re gonna see stars.
And that’s what you see with Kyle Garrick. It doesn’t even feel real, until your fingernails scratch his bare back and your fingers from the other hand tighten around his. Your legs are weak for him, your whole body is.
You feel it twice as hard when he comes too, babbling the whole time about you being the only woman in his life and marrying you. In a bliss, you only smile, kissing his forehead a couple of times, when he hugs you tight, like he doesn’t want you to leave the bed.
Not like you planned to do it anyway.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he murmurs against your shoulder, moving a little; you feel how his cum leaks from you. His softened cock still in you, as Garrick apparently doesn’t feel like pulling it out.
“The best Valentine’s Day,” you correct him with a lazy smile on your face. Content, for the first time in the while.
Garrick nods, slowly. “Yeah. Ended up in having sex, so—”
“—you’re the worst,” you laugh, shaking your head. Kyle seems almost scared for a moment, but when he sees that you’re genuinely laughing, he breathes out. “Only because of that? Not because your best friend basically confessed her feelings to you?”
“That too. Obvious option.” He grins, while you smack him with amusement. Kyle bites your shoulder, leaving another mark, while his other hand ruffles your hair.
You groan. “You’re gonna explain it tomorrow to my parents. All those hickeys and bites, young man.”
“You think they’re gonna be mad? Gonna tell them we’re together and they will ask about children,” he laughs; and he’s completely right about it, though. Your parents were cheering for you two from the start, they probably still do. “Anyway, we should order something. I don’t feel like cooking when I have you in bed.”
You huff, amused. “Romantic.”
“Very,” he snides, pulling you closer. His hand travels south, fingers circling near your clit. “Delivery will take some time, so we have to… make use of the time. You tired yet?”
“No, but—”
“—Fantastic.”
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meshlasolus · 6 months
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Your Beauty Never Ever Scared Me
Dbf!Joel Miller x College!Reader
A/n: Listen… I don’t have any excuse for ditching my other three active series except for tiktok made me do it… That, and the CLM series by @macfrog has ascended me to a new level of crazy and I just needed an outlet for it somewhere. Another shoutout to @theatrelove3000 who keeps putting up with my dbf joel shenanigans, they are indeed insane.
Warnings: girl this whole concept should be a warning but anyways… age gap, some fluff, light smut, uncomfortable situations with readers father… probably some editing mistakes bc ya girl is tired ok its 2am
Please be kind to this chapter, I actually like it, despite the horrors.
Decided on the song ‘Mary On A Cross‘ by Ghost for this one bc it fits ig.
MASTERLIST
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Age gap is approximately 15 years or so, reader is over 21 and joel is about 37
"I think I'd probably only slow'ya down," you chuckled, looking to Sarah who seemed to read the displeasure off your face from your dad's offer. "I'm studyin' to be an archeologist, dad. I don't know nothin' about framin' and all that house buildin'..."
Maybe it had been your dad's idea, but he wasn't the one who planted it into his own head. Joel subtly turned to you and cooly uttered a response.
"You could work on interior stuff with me."
It had been almost three days.
You looked out the window to the front of your house repeatedly to try and remember it clearly. The drive home, the kiss, and how abruptly it ended with a promise to see each other around. You thought about it so often you almost wondered if it happened the way you perceived it, if any details had been skewed in your mind simply because you wanted to keep it there, fresh, untouched. Maybe he thought of it differently... but maybe he didn't.
"Did you bring home the stuff I asked ya?" Your dad came into the kitchen with a smile, embracing you with a side hug and turning to help you unpack the groceries.
"Course' I did, Pa," you handed him the bag with the six-pack of bud and the other one full of snacks.
It was the first Rangers game night, and as per tradition, that meant the company of the next-door neighbors. It had been a while since you'd been around to enjoy it, but now that you were back, there were quite a few more reasons why you were on edge to now participate. It would look weird if you came up with an excuse not to be there, and you knew that. You also knrw that you'd gotten into a rather complicated entanglement with your father's closest friend, and weren't sure what the outcome really was.
Had that driveway light not spooked you both apart, and had that little black stray cat not made an appearance, how far would it have gone? Things were pretty heated, but even still. Would he have said something? Maybe along the lines of 'I've known you since you were sixteen, and this isn't appropriate at all.'
You didn't have time to think about it, you were set to work on helping your dad cook dinner for the soon-arriving neighbors. Dinner and a baseball game, once a relaxing and enjoyable time to bond with your dad, now turned into an anxiety fest where you were convinced you'd have to walk on pins and needles around every topic.
"So," your dad piped up from his silence at the stove, stirring the pot of chili he'd been prepping. "Joel told me he gave you a ride 'few nights back."
You knew it was harmless, and that he wasn't asking for any reason, other than that he was probably curious. You hadn't seen Joel in a while, not since two Christmases ago. Your dad had driven up to Dallas to spend both Thanksgiving and Christmas with you last year, and you didn't come home for summer break given an internship opportunity. You must have seemed different to the man in some way. All grown up.
"Yeah, gave me a ride n' saved me at the bar," you chuckled, trying to seem playful and unsuspicious about the encounter.
He seemed to be confused, his brows furrowed and a funny look on his face.
"Whad'ya mean he saved ya?" he of course was continuing to speak all the while dumping his favorite spices into the pot of chili, looking across here and now to keep engaged.
"Just scared off some weirdo who couldn't take no for an answer," you let a sweet and genuine smile fall across your features, but didn't let it get out of hand. Your relationship with your father was airtight, and he could read you pretty damn well. You weren't going to give anything away, not with what was potentially on the line.
"Glad he was there," he replied with a chuckle, sending you a soft glance. "Never thought you'd have grown up so fast, now I gotta carry a shotgun whenever we go places. Fend off the wild beasts."
His jokes were only so funny now, because in this situation, you knew he wouldn't hesitate to shoot Joel if he found out what had happened. All in the nature of protecting you, but it made you sad to think of the situation that way. Joel wasn't just another weirdo following you around at a bar.
"It's only because I'm so pretty," you did your best to respond lightheartedly, making a quip that would soothe the silence. "And I believe that's yours and Mama's fault, givin' me the genes and what not."
You'd finished chopping a nice garden salad by the time the doorbell rang. You ran upstairs to change your shirt to the Jersey your dad bought you for your birthday, claiming it was good luck for the team. Truth be told, you didn't wanna be downstairs when Joel and Sarah got here.
Sarah was here, too. Her, you could easily handle. You were almost hoping that she would be in a rather talkative mood, that way the attention could be swayed to her inconspicuously. You doubted Joel would even try to talk to you, anyway.
"Lovebug, come on down, Millers are here!" Your dad shouted up, even though he saw you run upstairs right when the doorbell rang to change your shirt.
"I'm comin', hold on," you replied sassily while heading for the staircase.
You got to the bottom and had to take a breath before turning the corner into the entryway. Joel stood there with a sweet smile to you, and you tried your best to hold back the one you wore. It was too bright, too happy to see him. All despite your nerves.
You were quickly embraced by Sarah, whom you paid immediate attention to.
"My lordy, girl," you held up your hand by your shoulder to show the height difference, "last time I saw you, you must've been this tall."
"Dad tells me I'm growing like a weed," she tossed a finger over her shoulder to where he was standing, and you gave him a small glance and a smile.
"Us daughters do have a tendency to grow up," you laughed, slinging an arm around Sarah and pulling her along to the kitchen as your dad and Joel did the same behind you.
Why had you been so anxious? Joel is happy to see you. He makes causal conversation with your dad, but he catches your eye every chance he gets. His expression doesn't change, except for the tug of his lips in a smile that's barely there. Joel doesn't smile too often, except apparently when you and Sarah are around.
It doesn't take long for everyone to get situated with their food at the table, playful banter between Joel and your father filling the air as you made less rambunctious chatter with Sarah.
She's doing pretty well since last you saw her. She was always a bright girl, but as she grew it became more apparent that she would probably excel further than anyone in her graduating class. You were sitting across from a future valedictorian, you were sure.
You'd tried to ask her about her out of school interests before your dad interrupted with a question.
"How about you, lovebug?" He watched your eyes flick over to him with a turn of your head. He added context, given you hadn't been listening to them earlier. "Are you gonna look for a summer job?"
You really should, if you're being honest. There's not much work in your aspiring profession located here, but you weren't as lucrative as you used to be, given your educational expenses.
"I've thought about it," you tilted your head back and forth, and your dad seemed to need more from your answer. "I need to earn some cash before I get back to Dallas, but I'm not really sure where to apply."
Sarah seemed to know where this was going before you did. She'd been around the last time your dad was begging Joel to find some help for the contracting team they worked with. But surely your dad doesn't expect you to build houses, does he? Your dream job is to dig holes in the ground, not fill them in and put homes on top.
"We got some spaces to fill, you should come work with us 'few months. The pay's good and you don't have to stay on long, probably just till the end of July."
You gave him a look, and he instantly knew you weren't interested, but you figured you'd try and justify your reasoning. It was an argument either way.
"I think I'd probably only slow'ya down," you chuckled, looking to Sarah who seemed to read the displeasure off your face from your dad's offer. "I'm studyin' to be an archeologist, dad. I don't know nothin' about framin' and all that house buildin'..."
Maybe it had been your dad's idea, but he wasn't the one who planted it into his own head. Joel subtly turned to you and cooly uttered a response.
"You could work on interior stuff with me."
Did he just-?
"S'not much more fun than what your dad's been doin,' but at least it's out of the sun, and easier to learn."
You were almost dumbfounded. Your dad offering you a job that potentially could give you heat stroke with your lack of experience seemed like the worst idea in the world... but working on interior projects? With Joel of all people? Well, that didn't sound so bad.
You didn't want your dad to catch on, of course. Being so protestant of his suggestion, but then falling right into it as soon as Joel was the one to offer would be a dead giveaway to some sort of favoritism to his best buddy. It simply wouldn't look right.
"What kinda interior stuff?"
He smirked. The motherfucker was smirking. He knew you'd changed your mind, but couldn't exactly just come out with it. He understood, but it was still slightly amusing to him.
"Flooring, cabinets, countertops... 's things like that," he explained, knowing you really didn't care what all it entailed. He was still happy to play along. "S'not as fun as archeology, but it pays alright."
You nodded, acting as though you were turning the thoughts over in your head.
"Well, if you're sure I won't mess it up, I'd be happy to try it out," was your final response. You figured it left some leeway in case your father became suspicious, but gave a good enough answer to end the conversation on.
"That's my girl," your dad clapped a hand on your shoulder in excitement. Truth be told he would very much enjoy your presence on a work site. "I'll go ahead and call Eddie in the morning, let 'im know I found someone to replace Charlie for interiors."
It was said more to Joel, you figured, because you didn't really know who either of those people were. He'd nodded to your dad, taking a sip of his beer and then looking back to you. You smiled sweetly, nobody catching it but the one it was meant for.
"Game's gonna start soon," Joel spoke aloud, drawing everyone's eye to the clock over the stove.
Sarah cleared her throat before jumping in on the conversation.
"About that," she looked to her dad with the same puppy dog eyes she used to use against you. He was just as poor at saying no to her when she pulled those bad boys out. "Sammy texted me to ask if it's okay to stay over at her place tonight?"
Joel sighed. He knew that no matter the attempts he made for her to like baseball, it wasn't her thing. It was summer vacation, and he had no reason to say no, so he didn't.
"Is she coming to pick you up?" He began, fishing his keys out of his pocket to drive her if need be. The girl lived five minutes away, he'd be back only a few minutes after the game started, but he didn't really want to leave.
"I can ask her," she pulled her phone back out of her jeans, opened her screen, and checked her messages.
"No need, I can take you," your voice rang out, standing from the table and taking your bowl to the sink. It was a genuine offer, but it was also to get out of the house and process what just happened with the job situation.
Joel was the first one to stand up with you.
"You don't have to-"
"It's fine," you cut him off, leaving no room for discussion. It was lucky he liked you, otherwise, Joel Miller might have put up quite the argument for such a small dilemma. As was his way, of course. He huffed, but accepted he had been overruled.
"Thanks, then." It was mumbled, but there was gratitude in it.
"We gotta hop over to ours real quick and grab my stuff," Sarah told you, waiting for you to return from the kitchen before beginning to head out through the front door. You'd grabbed your keys off where they hung on the wall before going behind her.
"I'll be back soon," you called over your shoulder into the house, and got a chirped 'alright' reply from your dad.
You walked out passed your driveway, seeing the light flicker on as you both went passed the censor on the ground.
"Y'know, I didn't think you'd have caved so fast on that job thing." She had piped up once you were almost to her porch. You found it only slightly funny that she chose the exact topic which had been swirling in your mind since it happened.
"Not sure I really wanna do it, but your dad made it sound better than every time my dad's talked about it, guess he just convinced me," you chuckled, playing it off in a way that she absolutely was about to use against you.
"That's another thing," she turned to you as she backed into the house through the door, only turning once she was inside. "Since when are you friends with my dad?"
She said it in a joking tone, but having known a few things she didn't about interactions that occurred between you and her father, you felt constricted to answer seriously. Probably with a lie if need be.
"I've always gotten along with your dad," you gave her a confused look, accompanied after by a playful smile.
She grabbed her backpack and opened it, checking to make sure she'd taken all the school stuff out before starting to shove things in, her charger, headphones, etc.
"Yeah but... you're just all young and cool and stuff," she shrugged, turning around to walk towards the staircase. "My dad is all old and boring and only talks about baseball."
"Thirty-seven isn't old, babe. My dad is two years from fifty, and I don't even think he's old, yet. Boring? Maybe..." you reasoned, hearing her laugh before she sprinted up the stairs, giving you time to think of some answers before she asked any more questions. Had she really caught onto you that fast? You didn't think you'd acted noticeably. If Sarah was able to see it, then maybe your dad did, too. You needed to be more careful, in that case.
Sarah returned a few minutes later, her backpack now stuffed and her pillow under her arm. You nodded out the door and headed back to your driveway to open the door for her, seeing as though her hands were full.
-
The drive after Sarah had been dropped off felt so much longer. Maybe it was just your thoughts, or maybe you consciously drove slower to avoid getting home too quickly. Your dad was waiting, but above that, Joel was there, too. Probably sitting back on the leather couch, relaxing with his feet kicked out on the floor. He usually leaned onto the armrest with his elbow, and held his face against the hand it supported. You'd noticed it years ago. He only ever spoke up when your dad did, usually in reply to him.
He was content simply watching the game in the presence of a friend. It was endearing.
When you pulled into the driveway, you had come up with an excuse to not remain downstairs for the duration of the game. It was too risky, and you weren't apparently as good with self-control as you'd thought you were.
You went inside and hung up your keys on the hook, immediately passing the living room on the way to the stairs.
"Hey, lovebug, you missed the top of the first," your dad called. He knew you liked baseball, so if you were to lie and say you didn't want to watch, he'd know something was up.
"Y'know, pa, I think I'm just gonna watch it upstairs, I forgot I still got some stuff to unpack," you peaked your head into the room to respond, and saw that Joel, just as you had pictured, was sitting in his most usual position on the couch, feet out on the floor, arm up with a hand holding the side of his face.
"Can't you do it later?" Your dad pleaded, but you knew, seeing as how your father occupied the recliner, you would have no where else to sit but on the floor or next to Joel. You didn't trust yourself with that.
"I could, but I might fall asleep if I wait too long."
He sighed, throwing an arm in your direction and shooing you away. He wasn't annoyed, but he'd admit he missed watching these games with you. It had been like a tradition, but if Sarah wasn't here either, he wasn't gonna make you stick around.
"Sure you don't wanna stick around? We could use your lucky jersey down here," Joel piped up, lifting his face from his hand and giving you a pair of soft eyes. That was exactly the reason you would not be staying. He didn't even realize how much he affected you, but you'd make sure he did at some point. Maybe you could just tease him a little.
"You're right, it would be a shame to take the lucky jersey with me."
You walked behind your dad's chair, out of his sight, and tauntingly stripped the jersey over your head, revealing the tight black tank top beneath it, just like that night at the bar. Joel's jaw clenched and his eyes turned darker, even under the bright light of the flatscreen in the living room. You never took your eyes away from his as you slung him the jersey.
"Hey pa, can I get you anything from the kitchen before I go upstairs?" You leaned over the back of his recliner, looking at him upside down. He chuckled and shook his head, trying to move your hair from obstructing his vision.
"We're all good, lovebug," he spoke in addition to his physical response, his laughter dying down as you stood back up. "Come on down if you change your mind."
"I'll probably be down later," you spewed a half-lie. You weren't sure if you would be or not, especially if Joel was still lurking in the living room.
You gave those brown eyes one last look before heading straight upstairs.
You grabbed your remote and flicked on the TV. It was already on the right channel, so you tossed the remote aside onto your bed and flopped back into it. You didn’t actually have anything left to unpack, but they would never have known.
Your phone buzzed beside you, and you lifted the screen to your face to see a text from an unsaved number:
Missin you down here…
You’d never put Joel in your contacts, because in highschool, your friends thought it was weird to even text or call him regularly, but you had his number for years, always just as a backup. You’d known it by heart, now, and nearly had it memorized back then, too, for the times you needed his help.
I’d come back if there was an open seat.
A bit sassy of a response, maybe, but you were hoping he’d understand the hidden meaning behind it… Although, Joel didn’t usually pick up on those things very easily.
Open seat right next to me
Yeah, that’s why I’m up here…
You huffed, realizing it wouldn’t be that easy. The three little dots indicating his next response was on the way slightly nerved you. Maybe he took the last text you sent the wrong way. You didn’t mean it to sound badly.
What’s that supposed to mean?
Means that I can’t keep my hands to myself.
You quickly rectified the situation, although you might have gone too far. He was taking far too long to answer, now. The little dots that before nerved you would now be your saving grace if it meant he would just fucking respond, already. You dropped the phone on your chest, raising up and down in a scattered rhythm while you wiped your hands over your face. Your phone vibrated over your shirt and you immediately opened it.
I can’t either. Stay up there.
You breathed out a sigh of relief. He was thinking the same things you were, and likely was under more stress for it, given he sat right across from your dad, responding to his comments about the game here and there. Your dad had no idea what was happening right under his nose.
Wasn’t thinking about leavin.
This little back and forth went on, the majority of the game, in fact. It was more-so about the plays then on, because you didn’t have anyone to talk to up here.
Joel thought it a bit funny, your dad would say something oddly specific about one of the players, and then you’d text him right after saying the exact same thing. You’d been a product of watching baseball with your old man for just about ever.
“I’m thinking about gettin’ some tickets over the summer for a game or two. They’re always cheaper in them group packages, you n’ Sarah should come along,” your dad was barely paying any attention to the words he spoke, but they came flowing out anyway, clear and cool. “Could be fun.”
Joel knew that there was only so much group interaction he could handle with you, and you with him. It stands to why you’re upstairs, an he’s down here, fist wrapped tightly around your lucky jersey. All out of your father’s sight, of course.
“It could be. Don’t think Sarah’s much for baseball anymore, though.”
He’d hoped that your dad would drop it. Halfway through his third beer, he hoped the man was a little more than tipsy, and maybe didn’t even mean the words he was saying.
“Doesn’t mean you can’t still tag along,” your dad was definitely still sober enough to keep it up, although the way he spoke became slower. Maybe he was getting sleepy.
“I’ll think about it.”
His response was followed by a hum, then a lull of silence that endured the rest of the game. He sat all the while and thought about his predicament a bit more.
He couldn’t stop thinking about you. It was insane… like you’d leeched yourself to the inner workings of his mind and he wouldn’t be able to pull you off without hurting himself, too. You were just upstairs, and had been texting him. You were within his vicinity, and yet… so unreachable.
He’d wished for you to be down here, or for him to be up there with you. Obviously, that wouldn’t go too well with the man sitting next to him, but he’d be asleep soon. If he could just touch you again, just kiss you one more time, maybe his cravings would be satisfied and he could go about his days… but what would happen if he kept feeling the addictive urge to do more? What if he was never satiated enough to quit you?
The game was called, and you’d texted him a small ‘victory’ at seeing the Rangers had won.
It was wrong, and the presence of his friend beside him was a constant reminder that you were his kid, and he would have a final say. Even though you were an adult, he understood this was completely taboo, and you should be off with guys your own age... but he’s made up his mind about the thoughts spinning in his head.
He didn’t respond, though. Your dad stood up out of his chair, his arms stretching outwards with a loud yawn as he took a few steps forwards, clapping his hand down on Joel’s shoulder.
“I hate to kick you out…” your father joked, a low and tired chuckle under his words.
“It’s alright, I got some stuff to sort out anyway.”
They started making their way towards the door when light but fast footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs.
Joel turned quickly, a smile on his lips and in his eyes when he saw you trying to catch your breath after sprinting down here.
“Leavin’ already?”
They both laughed heartily. As if Joel hadn’t been here almost three hours, most of which you spent upstairs. Your heart was beating far too fast for your liking, but there didn’t seem to be a way to stop it. Now that you were present again, in the room with him, you didn’t know what else to do.
“Your dad’s half asleep as it is, if I stay any longer I’ll send ‘im into hibernation,” Joel’s response made you giggle softly, although you withheld most of the laughter, because in all honestly, it wasn’t that funny, and you needed to learn to control yourself.
“He’ll be over next week, we’ll talk about gettin’ you into that job.”
You nodded, turning back to Joel as your dad opened the front door. What were you supposed to do? You couldn’t hug him, could you? That’s too much… maybe just wave, or maybe-
He held his hand out… for you to shake it. A hand-shake. Yeah, sure, fine.
You shook it, but he pulled you in half way, tapping your back once and then letting go.
He just bro hugged you. This man just-
He turned and did the same to your dad, giving you one last glimpse as he stepped out the door. Your dad closed it behind him and you were almost clean out of words to say. That had to have been the strangest interaction you’ve had.
“I’m beat, love-bug. I’m gonna head to bed,” he slung an arm around your neck and kissed the top of your head before turning and going down the hall to the stairs. “Don’t be up too late.”
“I won’t, just got a few things to do.”
You waited approximately ten more seconds before running to the garage door, going as quickly and as quietly as you could through to your front yard. Joel was still on his porch when you got out there, but was about to go inside.
You ran out to the sidewalk in font of his house and called out to him, all the while still barefoot.
“Hey Miller,” you crossed your arms, watching him turn around and lean in one direction. “Did you just bro-hug me? Or did I imagine that?”
He stepped closer to the edge of the porch, leaning against one of the wooden beams closest to him.
You slowly walked up to him, tilting your head to side as you observed his stance. he looked rather good. Hair tousled, body adorning a black t-shirt and some dark jeans. He was a sight, even in the dark light of the neighborhood.
“I reckon I oughta’ try again?”
"Seems like the fair thing to do."
“You’re takin’ your sweet time, baby,” he irked, grabbing gently under your elbow and pulling you up onto to porch once you were close enough.
You smiled to him, and wrapped your arms round his neck, over his broad shoulders. He pulled you close, tucking a head into your shoulder. The anxiousness you felt before fell apart, the rapid beating of your heart slowed, because you were comfortable. You felt immense peace in his arms like you’ve never felt before.
He backed away too soon, but still kept you relatively close to him.
“Was that better?”
“Yeah, I’d say so.”
There was a moment of silence, of contemplation, but it wasn’t stiff, and it wasn’t awkward. It was just there, a nice and pleasant quiet, and you standing still with Joel Miller on his porch.
“You wanna come inside a while?”
Sarah wasn’t home, and wouldn’t be till morning. Your dad was probably passed out in bed by now, leaving the opportunity completely open. You had nothing to lose, no risk to be had.
“Yeah, I think I will.”
He didn’t let you go, he just walked you both backwards until he was able to reach the door, reaching with one hand to open it before stepping slightly to the side to allow you entrance first.
“Ever the gentlemen,” you smiled, walking inside before he followed you in.
“Gotta make up for all that nonsense earlier,” he closed the door, taking your hand and walking to the kitchen. He pulled out a stool at his counter and let your hand fall to your side as he made his way to the fridge.
He pulled out two beers and uncapped them with the tool hanging on the side of his fridge. You think you remember your dad buying it for his birthday one year. You can remember sitting in this exact seat many times before, actually. Never alone, though. Never just you and Joel, and nobody else near.
He slid you one beer an you smiled at him in thanks, taking a sip.
“Last time you had one of these, I didn’t know if you liked it or not,” he gestured to his own bottle, drinking some and setting it down on the counter.
“I don’t know, I think it’s growing on me.”
He looked straight to you, leaning both hands on the edge of the counter. You leaned forward, mimicking his more stern face of features before he said anything else.
“I didn’t wanna say so with your dad around, but you look awful pretty tonight,” he spoke the compliment smoothly, but he had to drop his head after he said it. Seemed that giving you compliments alone in the night was something of a struggle for him, since he was blushing still even when he looked back to you.
“I seem to be feelin’ a lot prettier as of late whenever I’m around you. Think you’re just good for my self esteem,” you paused, leaning back onto the stool to take a drink of your beer. “That, or it's just nice to be complimented by a handsome guy like yourself.”
He didn’t seem to believe you. His scoff was loud and heard immediately after your compliment returned to him.
“You think I’m handsome?”
He’d always thought he was average. Maybe even slightly below. As he got older, that notion grew until he felt that maybe he was beyond trying for a woman on behalf of his looks. Perhaps there were women from time to time that would agree to a date, but there were none since Sarah’s mom who actually stuck around, not until you… but you were different as far as relationships go, because technically, you shouldn’t even be considering one with him.
“Absolutely, I do. Why wouldn’t I?” You were curious, because he was clearly attractive. Maybe you’d spent too much time around the more traditionally preferred young men in dallas, but something about Joel intrigued you that never did with anyone else. Maybe it was the forbidden aspect of what you two were doing, but before that, it was something else. He was rough and rugged, and good looking in a mature way that the boys your age couldn’t mimic if they tried. Those dark brown eyes with little crows feet at the edges every time he smiled were a dead give away to his age, but it was so appealing somehow.
“Don’t know. Guess I’m just old,” he spoke, trying to hide the insecurities that phrasing brought about. He was too old for you, he shouldn’t be sitting here with you you alone and calling you pretty, and yet…
“Maybe that’s a good thing. Too many boys my age are still very immature these days.” And it was very much true. Too young, too immature, and too stupid to see what’s in front of them and really appreciate it. Older men have a tendency to take care of the things they have, because they know that with time they can lose them.
“That so?”
“Mhm.”
“They don’t even realize what their missin’ out on, do they?”
You shook your head in reply. Nope. Not a single one of the younger guys you’ve dated has treated you with the care you know he could. He’s always treated you with care, before… why would that change now?
“They probably figure there’s a million girls linin’ up after me that they can take a shot at,” you raised your eyebrows and drank some more. Maybe it was just a thought of some past experiences, but this beer was tasting better and better to you.
“I pity them,” he said nonchalantly, without really thinking about it.
“Who, the girls? I mean, I kinda feel bad, but other times, I think we all know what we’re getting ourselves into n’ we just try to ignore the red flags.”
It was meant as a joke, but he was being genuinely serious.
“No, the guys. I pity ‘em.”
“Oh, do you?”
“I do,” he nodded, thinking of the right words to say. “They lost you, didn’t they? Biggest mistake of their lives and they didn’t even know. Pity ‘em just for that.”
You didn’t know what to say. You figured the wide smile you wore was doing a fine enough job, but he wasn’t looking like he had anything else to voice yet.
“You think I’m somethin’ special, Joel Miller?”
He set his bottle down on the counter and walked around it to stand right in front of your barstool. He took both your hands and pulled them to his chest, just holding them there and looking to you with the sweetest expression you’ve ever seen from him. He’s so different than what you remember in your earlier years. He used to be so stoic and serious. Sometimes even a little grumpy. Guess time changes things.
“I wouldn’t be gettin’ myself into sum’ this crazy if I thought anything else,” he mumbled it almost, but he definitely meant it. His words rang true in every aspect of the implications they made. This was crazy, it was very unlikely in the first place, but even still, it was happening. Neither of you backed down, neither of you said no.
“If it helps, I happen to think you’re pretty damn special, too.”
He didn’t respond, just leaned closer towards you, nudging his nose against yours, before letting your lips meet in a kiss. it washed rushed and hazy like the last time. It wasn’t forceful or fast or anything of that sort. It was gentle, and it was meaningful. All the years he’d known you, but never like this. You knew this attraction was new, but it was still real. You wondered how many women pined after him over the years, only for you to now gage his attention when clearly no one else did. The man’s been single since Sarah’s mom left, and otherwise, you didn’t know him to be much of a ‘dating around’ kinda guy. Standing here with him, now, you felt such excitement in knowing he’d pursue you, the off limits woman, over anyone else. It was a true victory, or at least you thought so, sitting on a stool in his kitchen while he kissed you softly, his thumbs going over the backs of your hands that still lingered in his.
When the kiss broke, you inhaled deeply, the scent of him so close to you, surrounding you. He was like a warm blanket you just pulled out of the dryer. He was comforting, and soft, and his skin was currently hot to the touch. You could only hope that you had something to do with that.
“Baby,” he breathed, hands letting go of yours and finding a new home at your waist. You left your hands on his chest, feeling his heart rate fluctuating. “Gotta know something before this goes any further…”
You hummed in response, still trying to even your breath intake. He backed away a few inches to be able to look you in the eyes correctly. He’d spent enough time with you in the past to know if you were telling the truth, and he was going to use it just this once to his advantage.
“What we’re doin’, you sure you’re okay with it?” He knew better than to jump into this without clarification. “Don’t want you feelin’ pressured if you’re not.”
“I want this,” you spoke softly, just loud enough that he could hear. “Promise.”
You had thought you’d been the instigator to this, if memory serves you correctly. Even still, you know now that whatever happens, he won’t take it somewhere you don’t want it to go. This show of good faith was something you could put trust in him over. He’s a good one, you always knew that.
And again his lips were on yours, differently this time. It was a bit more hasty and fervent like the first time, but there was still something different from then that you couldn’t quite decipher.
You absent-mindedly opened your legs and he instantly came between them, letting your bodies become flush with one another. His hands ran up and down your sides, every once and a while dipping to your hips and somewhere below on your thighs.
There was a heat between them that you didn’t realize was there until he came so close to touching it. He never actually did, though, and you were both endeared by and upset about it. He was the one making that heat spread, he can’t just leave it there… but he’s testing his limits, and you think it’s respectful that he is.
He doesn’t want to cross any lines… as if this entire entanglement has not already done that. This situation in every sense of the definition, has crossed the line. Him hugging you that tightly on his porch, him inviting you in after dark when it’s only you and him alone, having a beer with some very personal conversation, and now making out with you in his kitchen. They all crossed the line of what should happen between a man and his best friend’s daughter.
“Tell me to stop,” he mumbled against your mouth, almost as if reading your mind. His hand on your thigh drifted between your legs, just barely caressing the heated pool sitting there, waiting for him. It was still very reserved, and you had to buck against his hand for more friction, but at least it was something.
The taste of him somehow made it worse, the feeling growing inside you without an end in sight. The arousal was evident, but you weren’t sure he would be able to do anything about it, yet. You could tell it was weighing on his mind, what was okay for him to do, and what wasn’t. You would beg him if you had to, you just needed more.
He had an idea, one that could allow both of you to explore this dynamic easier, and one that could potentially keep him from overstepping like he was afraid to.
He removed his hands only for a minute, bringing yours up and over his shoulders before he settled his back down below your ass.
“Hold on,” he told you, lifting you from the seat and walking until he got to the living room. From there, he let the space guide him until the back of his knees hit the edge of the couch. He sat almost abruptly, and when you relaxed your weight onto him, you felt the stirring between his legs as well. You moaned into his mouth at the mere size and feeling of it, beginning to slowly grind down onto him. He encouraged your movements, and used his hands to guide your hips as you went, back and forth, getting into a rhythm.
“That’s it, baby,” he praised, tearing himself away for a moment to expel his breath from his lungs at the new feeling. Your head fell against his, and suddenly it was the movement of your lower half taking you over.
He let his hands move over your body a bit more freely, now, but still careful not to make any harsh movements, or grab in places he felt he shouldn’t linger too long. He knew you wanted this, but something inside him questioned how comfortable you really felt… that was until you started doing the same, roaming his body with your delicate touch, making him feel like the most important man in the world. You could have sworn you marked the exact moment he snapped, rolling his hips upwards into yours shamelessly. It was so deliciously addicting, the feeling of his body pleasing yours, and vice versa. His rough and sturdy hands, though still gentle, ravished any part of you available to him.
The air between you was hot and thick, and you could swear that by breathing it in, you were drawing even more arousal into your body.
The motions kept going until there was a quickening of pace brought on by you both simultaneously. You couldn’t mark a distinction of when it increased, you just knew that the speed you were going wasn’t where you started. All you could think of was that your spend was fast approaching, and you wondered if his was, too.
“Gettin’ close,” you murmured, barely able to get the words out for the moans that slipped passed your lips. “M’gonna…”
He heard you, and understood. Truth be told, he’d started getting hard since that moment on the porch, so this was just nothing but sweet relief to him. He kept on, trying to meet you at your finish.
“Let go , baby.”
You had no qualms about being told twice when it came to him. You gave it up easily, the muscles in your body contracting when you felt the wash of utter ease through every inch of you. He tensed beneath you, but relaxed with a groan of relief right after, and you could feel his length twitch in his jeans.
You just dry-humped Joel Miller on his couch. Like a horny teenager. What the fuck.
The dawn of realization was cut short by his hand softly coercing the back of your neck, bring your lips back for him to claim as he did earlier. Soft, and gentle, no rush, no heat. Just that feeling between you both that started this mess.… and it was indeed a mess.
“You wanna stay over?”
-
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@justanothersadperson93 @moonchild-warrior @hopplessilse @brittmd115 @michilandcof @untamedheart81 @just-someone-broken @joelalorian @xybil @yvonneeeee
If i tagged you wrong, or you want to be taken off at any time, just lmk!!
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allwaswell16 · 5 months
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🔔 It's December! That means it's One Direction Advent fic season! Advent fics are generally posted daily from December 1 to December 24/25. Don't forget you can subscribe to the author to get a daily email reminder to read their Advent fic! 🔔
🌟 Baking In December by Itstilliswhatitis
Louis can't believe it! His sisters signed him up for a competition at some bakery and they won! Now he has to spend every day of December baking something with a random dude. Except, the random dude is named Harry and he's hot! Louis realises that this Christmas might be extra special!
🎁 Be Merry All by @justanothershadeofblue {Fic post}
there is a specific sort of oppression that comes with a miserable so-cal christmas, when it’s dark and dirty and rainy or else it's too hot and too bright and everyone’s hustling, and your family is all far away and the laundry machines in your building are broken and you’ve eaten too much take-out and all you want is two seconds of quiet and maybe a morsel of holiday joy.
🕯️ Can I Fly Home by @sadaveniren {Fic post}
“Nothing? A seventy-eight year old woman just gave birth. It’s clearly supernatural stuff at work. How could you say no?” “No.” “Come on, the mystery has to be getting to you just a little.” “Granny being horny isn’t a mystery, Lou. We’re supposed to be on a break until the new year. The real mystery is why you aren’t content to just stay in one place. We’ve hunted everything imaginable to hunt.” “And yet weird shit still ends up happening, fancy that.” He saw Louis change tactics, sticking out his lower lip, pleading. “Please? Check it out with me and then maybe we’ll come back here for Christmas.” AKA Louis and Harry have been hunting together since they were teenagers and it's beginning to take a toll. Harry wants to retire. Louis plans to die hunting. Maybe a "Christmas Miracle" is just what they need. An advent fic.
🦌 Christmas Advent Calendar by enchantedlandcoffee / @alarrylittlechristmas {Fic post}
A collection of holiday drabbles written and posted leading up to Christmas. One posted per day.
🥁 Heart Beat by @allwaswell16 {Fic post}
Hideaway Haven is the place that Louis has always called home. It's also the place that Harry had tried to leave behind him. When Harry returns to start a music academy in his hometown, he finds himself face to face with his high school crush—and his charming daughter who wants to learn to play the drums.
⛄ the holiday remix - choose ur adventure advent series by warmcuppatea / @hlplease {Fic post}
“I love you so much, yeah? And we’ve talked about moving in together when my lease ends. And we’ll be spending so much time together for the holidays, and you know, we get on so smashingly-” “Louis-” Harry laughed. “Spit it out!” “-So I was thinking,” Louis laughed, rubbing his face. “Fuck, I don’t know why I’m so nervous!” He laughed. “I was thinking we should test-run living together this month.” Harry and Louis are very in love, but moving in together feels huge. So, naturally, Louis has the idea to do a holiday test-run.
🔔I'll Be Home For Christmas by lovelarry10 / @chloehl10 {Fic post}
Harry's life seems to be going well. He has a great job working at Festive Furnishings, he has an amazing three year old son called Danny, and his favourite time of the year is approaching. Just as Harry thinks everything is finally going to plan, he finds out that he is going to be losing his home just before Christmas. Louis Tomlinson is happy enough with his lot. He's the CEO of a company he started years ago, Festive Furnishings, he has great colleagues, especially his assistant Harry, and he has the best nephew in the world. But the thing is, Louis is lonely. He has a beautiful house but it's too quiet, especially at this time of year. Not that he'd admit that to anyone. While struggling to find somewhere warm and safe for himself and Danny to stay, Harry makes a decision that might just change the course of everything... and bring himself and Louis closer together as well...
🍪 I Really Like Your Styles: The Baking Advent-ure by @homosociallyyours {Fic post}
Louis isn't much for frills, and the coffee shop he co-owns with his best friend Liam is evidence of that. Yes, it's got a decent sized, well-kept industrial kitchen, but Louis insists that people come to coffee shops for coffee, not mediocre pastry and plastic wrapped cookies. When Liam's campaign for serving treats turns into watching a few baking accounts on whichever popular app he's on now, there's one that really gets on Louis' nerves: "I Like Your Styles." With his chipper demeanor and over the top descriptions of the food he makes, Louis is sure that the (unfortunately cute) baker is full of it. Nothing that adorable could possibly be worth the hype. It doesn't actually take much for him to eat his words...and some quality baked goods, while he's at it.
 🎄 kay's 25 days of smutmas by shiptattou / @wecantalktomorrow {Fic post}
Starting on December 1st, I will be posting a new smut fic everyday until Christmas! These are all one shots of varying lengths and content. As they are posted, I will add the links to this post, summaries and lengths will be included under the break! All fics will be Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson.
💌 Lonely Cards Club by @hellolovers13 {Fic post}
Harry's life in Cardiff is rather uneventful. Until he receives a strange Christmas postcard. It gets even stranger when he finds another one the next day. An Advent story about missed opportunities and second chances.
❤️ Love Actually [L.S.] by @louisthiccsexyglitteryass {Fic post}
Louis Tomlinson has just became Prime Minister of the UK. Harry Styles is a housekeeper at 10 Downing Street. Louis can't help but be enthralled with Harry. But, unfortunately, love has a funny of fucking punching you in the gut.
🎅 Neondiamond's 2023 Christmas Ficlet Party {Fic post}
If you know me at all, you’ll know that two of the things I enjoy most are writing fluffy ficlets, and Christmas. This year, I decided to combine the two and create my own little Christmas ficlet party all throughout December! 8 ficlets, 4 different pairings, many different tropes—all short, fluffy and festive! Perfect for a quick reading break with a warm drink!
☃️ Snow In Love by @lululawrence {Fic post}
Harry and Louis are best friends and have been for basically as long as they can remember. For the first time since middle school, they are both single for the holidays leaving them with the brilliant idea to take each other as their dates to work events. To make things easier they will pretend like they’re dating. But then they learn something funny. People thought they were already dating. Weird. An advent fic featuring childhood friends, fake dating turned actual dating, really horrible secret keeping, and a winter weather surprise.
🌲 'tis the damn season by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf {Fic post}
Harry returns to her small hometown over the holiday season and starts to think about the road not taken.
🔔 they're singing 'deck the halls' (but it's not like christmas at all) by doesanyonehearrunningwotah
Louis Tomlinson is no fan of Christmas. Between his douchebag ex-husband/co-parent, his two teenage kids, and the awful fact of his torn-apart family, the holiday season isn't looking to be all that festive. But maybe a boy's trip with his closest friends will lead him to something that'll make the season a little more bearable. Or the one where Louis' a bit of a grinch, Harry's a gorgeous present, and there's more weight to the past than either of them would like.
❄️ We Can Roll in the Darkness by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28 {Fic post}
Top and Bottom Construction Co. - “We’ll get the job done, however you prefer it!” Louis looks up from the flyer, and back at Niall. “You must be joking?” Niall shakes his head, his mischievous grin only going wider. “Nope! I already researched them. They have glowing reviews AND they’re affordable. It’s perfect!” He pauses then to give Louis a cheeky wink. “Besides their website says they’re full service.” (Or the one where Louis and his best mate Niall decide to take the plunge and open a pub. The goal is to open Christmas Day, but the building renovations are proving trickier than expected. Insert: a construction company with a questionable name, a certain curly haired builder who catches Louis’ attention, and a little festive chaos along the way).
✨ You Ain’t Gotta Feel Fear Just Mingle by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup {Fic post}
Harry has been at his dream job for less than three months, and he knows two things for sure; first, his project manager doesn't know what he's doing, and second, someone in the office is apparently pure evil, and no one will tell Harry who it is. Oh, and the guy who works in conservation at the other end of the building is the most beautiful man Harry's ever seen, even when wielding a hot iron as a weapon. Happy Christmas, here's to many more.
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bookofbonbon · 4 months
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I really love you keep him there/christmas kiss! you mention that it’s common theme amongst polite capitol society children to have known each other their entire lives, did this also include sejanus when he arrived in the capitol? and was she friends with him? 🥺
you'll never belong - coriolanus snow.
Pairings/Characters: Coriolanus Snow x Reader. Sejanus Plinth. Arachne Crane.
Word Count: 1.1k+.
Apart of: You Keep Him There. Christmas Kiss - however, these can absolutely all be read as stand alones.
A/N: I know this wasn't a request but, it does answer your question and it's an opportunity to introduce one of the reasons why she doesn't 'like' Coriolanus. Also, military family = her mother's side; blizzards = father's side (murdoch is paternal grandfather).
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Heavensbee Hall buzzes with excitement, every available standing and sitting space filled with Academy faculty, graduates and their parents, bar yours - not that it mattered to you. For the last ten years, July 4th has been a high priority and exceptionally busy day for your family with your parents always personally overseeing the network’s airing of the Reaping for each District - not even your graduation could take priority over that. Not that you’d expect it to either, you had barely scraped a pass; it was with the help of one person that you were graduating at all, one person you were currently looking for and had finally spotted in the corner with his parents. 
You quickly tell your grandparents, “I’ll be back.” 
But before you can step away from them, you’re immediately stopped by them - the pair acting as eyes and ears for your parents. You didn’t blame your parents for the precaution and if it had been up to you, you wouldn’t have been here at all but, instead with them. Unfortunately for you however, they had asserted that you were to attend your graduation and remain present for the entire ceremony - no exceptions. They’d even gone so far as to inform your Aunt to keep an eye out for you since she’d be present as a guest of honour. 
“Where are you going?” your grandfather asks gruffly. 
You nod towards Sejanus Plinth and show him the medium-sized gift box in your hand.
“I need to give this to him.”
There’s a look of disdain mixed with suspicion in his eyes as he looks to where you nod, at the Plinth’s, then back at you until finally he relents but, not without a warning to remain in his sight. 
You want to roll your eyes, your mother knew what she was doing when she sicked her military parents on you. 
Weaving through several bodies to get to him, you catch bits and pieces of conversations here and there. Only one catches your attention however, involving your three elite cohort - the topic bringing you to a halt. 
“... I don’t like him, Arachne. I tolerate him. He’s district.”
“No need to guess who the three of you are talking about,” you interrupt Coriolanus, Arachne and Festus. 
“Well, well, well,” Arachne drawls with her nasally voice. “So nice of you to actually show but, shouldn’t you be in the Academy Rouge? You certainly didn’t place in the top 24.”
“You know it’s funny you mention that, Arachne, because Murdoch actually offered to buy me your place in the top 24 but, out of the kindness of my heart, I told my grandfather, no.”
Thick tension fills the air, Arachne’s red painted lips dropping into a scowl, furthermore when you lean in close and remind her of her place. 
“Never forget, Arachne - truth doesn’t matter, only perception and I control the narrative, always,” you smile, saccharine. “Not you.” 
You want to roll your eyes at the stubborn look of hidden terror on her face. As if you’d actually do anything to the detriment of any of them - Murdoch had successfully hammered unwavering allegiance to this little group here - The Old Guard of the Elite - into you but, still... they could use a little reminding every now and then of their place. 
Stifled laughter from both boys breaks the tension and you divert your attention to them, specifically Coriolanus; your eyes immediately finding the red rose pinned to his waistcoat, the smallest of thorns still present on its stalk.
“A rose,” you touch the stalk gently. “So, very fitting of you. Beautiful to look at but harmful if you touch.”
You allow the thorn to prick your finger, a little bulb of blood blossoming on the tip. You hold your finger up to show him.
“A shame that not everyone knows this,” you tell him disdainfully.
Recognition flashes in his eye, you’re talking about Sejanus - you excuse yourself from the group, carrying onto your final destination who was already headed your way but not to you.
“Hey,” Sejanus greets you with a small smile when you plant yourself in his path. 
You bypass the greetings, “where are you going?”
You already know where he’s going and you’re not surprised when he tells you - to Coriolanus - but, you asked as a courtesy.
“Why?”
“There’s something I need to tell him before the ceremony starts.” 
“There’s no need to talk in code, I already know about the Plinth Prize or should I say lack thereof.”
Sejanus looks at you puzzled but, before he can ask how you know, you provide him with the answer. 
“You all seem to forget who my Aunt is, she’s the one who told me.” 
Recognition becomes Sejanus and he nods in understanding. 
“Hey, listen.” You step closer to him. “You should really stop hanging out with Coriolanus.”
“And why is that?”
“He’s not your friend.”
This makes him laugh, “oh and you are?”
“Compared to him? Absolutely I am. Sejanus, you could have all the money in the world and it will never make them- him like you.”
Sejanus bristles at your words, becoming defensive - you don’t mean to hurt him but, you do. 
“Thank you for pointing out the obvious,” he tells you bitterly. “As if I needed another reminder that I’ll never belong here.” 
You roll your eyes, “I’m not trying to remind you that you don’t belong here, I’m trying to tell you that they don’t care about you. Coriolanus Snow does not care about you.” 
“And how exactly would you know that when you only care about yourself?” he snaps at you. "He has been the only person who has ever been my fri-"
“Well then you are as stupid as you are willful, Sejanus Plinth because Coriolanus Snow only cares about Coriolanus Snow,” you cut him off.
Irritation seeps into your voice because what he said wasn’t true about Coriolanus or about you.
You were fiercely protective of those you care for and love - your military grandfather said it would be your downfall - and right now, despite your unwavering allegiance to the Old Guard, you were stupidly trying to protect him. 
“He’s going to get you into trouble or worse- but you know what? What do I care, right? So, whatever- here.” you shove the box into his hand. “My thanks for your help.” 
You don’t give him time to process, swiftly turning and walking away once you feel his hands take hold of the medium-sized gift box - baked goods from District 2. 
That would be the last conversation you’d had with Sejanus Plinth before he was hanged for treason in District 12 only two months later. 
You’d hardly known him and yet you cared for him; his death still hurt.
The truth of Sejanus's death would find you eventually, haunting your relationship with Coriolanus; unable to completely trust him.
-
Can you guess where the Blizzard family has made their wealth?
-
All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.
Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.
bookofbonbon 2023. All rights reserved.
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