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lionhanie · 28 days ago

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the first snow (lee riwoo)

working during the holidays isn’t too bad with sanghyeok by your side

co-worker!riwoo x gn!reader (non-idol au)

this work is my contribution to @onedoornet’s christmas event, a very onedoor christmas! check it out here!

word count: 4.1k ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ genre: fluff

warnings: a pinch of angst i'd say (alluding to burnout/seasonal depression), reader is a people pleaser, i curse maybe twice lol, riwoo is referred to as sanghyeok!

a/n: SORRY I KNOW CHRISTMAS IS OVER…. had fun writing it regardless :,) hope u enjoy ^^

reblogs ↺ + feedback always appreciated!

Being one of the younger workers in the office was frustrating to say the least. Pausing your work to complete trivial tasks in the middle of the workday – making copies of a meeting agenda, fetching your seniors’ morning coffees, reorganizing the ridiculously large stack of your current client’s files – the list seemed to never end. For some reason, everyone around you was conveniently occupied with something so urgent that they couldn’t attend to the matters themselves, leaving the responsibility up to you. Sometimes you felt like you spent more time faced with useless errands than doing the work you were hired to do in the first place.

You were expecting a bit more respect from your peers when you were appointed as the team leader for your company’s newest project, but you were quick to realize your naivety in the earlier group meetings, finding that no one seemed to take you seriously. You would’ve thought that because the other members on the project had years of experience on their side, surely they’d be able to hold their weight to a certain extent... Right?

Painfully enough, it was the complete opposite. You can’t count the number of times one of the more “experienced” workers asked you to repeat a detail you’d discussed just minutes prior, or proposed a suggestion that completely contradicted the end goal of your client– it was clear to you that no one saw your leadership as more than a joke, no matter how hard you tried.

And to top it all off, your company was structured in such a way that made it nearly impossible for you to speak up against your elders. Your word as a senior associate meant close to nothing if you were going against one of the partners of the firm. It didn’t matter that you put in ten times more effort than your team members, it was almost as if they were praised according to how long they’ve been in the office.

Safe to say you were relieved when Sanghyeok was added as a member of the team you were leading on a random Tuesday afternoon. Not that you two were close by any means – the extent of your interactions consisted of small smiles exchanged in passing in the printer room or short discussions of weekend plans over coffee in the break room. Rather, you were hopeful that his addition to the project would mean someone would finally start contributing even a fraction of the work you were putting in.

Even though you dread your bi-weekly team meetings, it was so much more rewarding to at least one other person cared about the success of the project. Sanghyeok was always in his unassigned-assigned seat right by the projector, intently nodding along to your agenda and taking notes when he deemed necessary. Hell, he’d even chime in whenever someone would ask a question that was obviously answered earlier in the presentation, giving you the chance to save your breath for something that actually mattered, and shooting you a cheeky grin afterwards, clearly satisfied helping you whenever he could.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Four days before the deadline. . .

Everyone begins to pack up their belongings the second it hits 5:00PM, slowly but surely filing out of the office before it gets too dark. It was no surprise to see your colleagues zipping up their briefcases far earlier than you planned on clocking out; the project deadline crept up on you faster than you’d like to admit, and your mostly incompetent team forced you to work overtime a majority of the recent weeks. In any other case, you probably wouldn’t be breaking your back hunched over your keyboard hours after the sun had set, but because the project was in your name, it pained you to present a finished product you weren’t proud of.

“You aren’t leaving yet, Y/N?” You look up from your monitor, finding Sanghyeok looking at you from across your cubicle, wrapping a plush scarf around his neck. His eyes are full of concern– he’s noticed the way you never seem to budge once your peers start going home for the night. Even on days when he logs off later than he’d initially planned to, you’re still there, typing away at your desk.

“Agh, our Y/N is always so hardworking! They never seem to leave with the rest of us,” Alvin, a senior on your project notorious for sending in half-assed work far past the deadline you set for him, comments from his seat beside you. “I could never put in as much work as you do, not when I’ve got a family waiting for me at home!” Yeah, no shit. It’s hard to believe he’s stayed at the company so long performing the same quality of work you were doing in your first year in the office.

His words stung a bit, feeling oddly bitter at the idea of someone like him having people who loved him waiting for him to return from work– Coming back home to an empty apartment late at night never used to bother you, but something about the long winter nights and freezing temperatures made it undoubtedly sad in nature. It wasn’t just the weather making your loneliness feel colder than usual.

The smile you return is painfully fake, something Sanghyeok clocks almost immediately. He gnaws on his lip, wanting to say something to the senior, ultimately deciding to hold back on it given how new he was to the project. Maybe it wasn’t his place. He didn’t want to make things worse for you by saying something out of line. Alvin shrugs his coat onto his back, quickly leaving the premises without another word.

“If I didn’t see you in a new outfit everyday, I’d think you slept at your desk,” Sanghyeok jokes, trying to lighten the mood. From his first meeting with the new team, he quickly learned to admire the way you seemed to take charge when you needed to. It was impressive the way you’d joined the company later than he had, and were already put in charge of such a big task. He knew exactly how it felt to deal with all the stupid tasks from the other seniors in the office, finding himself doing the same thing for weeks before you came in.

You chuckle pitifully, mainly towards yourself. “At this point, I should stop paying rent and start living at my desk.” You groan as you take a break for a well-needed stretch, your back cracking from your poor posture. “Some days I feel like I’m in the office more than my apartment.” Your words are lighthearted, but Sanghyeok notices the underlying melancholy in your statement.

And Sanghyeok takes his leave, only after wishing you good luck and a “get home safe” as he always does, but he can’t stop thinking about how much time you’ve been putting into your work. He’s constantly shut down whenever he asks you if there’s anything else he can help with, just wanting to take a fraction of the load off your plate.

He knows you’re doing it just to be nice. You’re the type of person to take on a burden all on your own, even if it means committing to the ungodly hours you’ve become so used to. Even on the bus ride home, Sanghyeok can’t shake your tired eyes out of his mind. For some reason, it hurts to imagine you slowly killing yourself over a silly project all because no one had the decency to bother trying when they knew you’d fix it for them anyways. He wanted to do more… No, he needed to do more.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Three days before the deadline. . .

Sanghyeok wonders how you’re always earlier than him when he walks into the office, finding you so put-together and diligently editing the project presentation when he’s still groggy after his commute to work.

The workload around the holidays is never too demanding, thankfully the company’s clients normally don’t ask for much as the year comes to an end. In your case, however, all your time is spent on trying to perfect the project proposal for your overwhelmingly-nitpicky boss. You’re convinced it’s some sort of test to see how good you’d be leading a team before you get the promotion you’ve been waiting on for the past couple months. Even if you make it out of your boss’ critiques alive, you’re certain you’ve lost countless years off your life with all the stress weighing down on you.

You lock eyes with Sanghyeok every once in a while, finding him peeking over the divider separating your desks more than normal. That’s odd. You figure it’s probably because he has a question about the numerous items that still need fixing on the project. It doesn’t occur to you that he wants to talk to you until he rises from his chair, tapping his pen on the top of your monitor to catch your attention.

“I don’t know if you saw, but I just fixed a lot of the trouble areas you mentioned in the meeting the other day,” He’s excessively clicking the pen in his free hand, feeling oddly nervous to show you his work even when he knows he did everything properly– He knows how high your expectations are when it comes to your job. “I’m pretty sure I made sure to do everything you asked for, but you might want to double-check if I missed anything.”

The gasp of relief you let out is uncharacteristically loud, so much so that it earns you a side-eye from Alvin, who was currently playing solitaire at his desk next to you. He’d just saved you hours of overtime with his work, finding everything done to a tee. “No, no, this is perfect. I was dying to fix those until I realized I forgot Christian told me to come with him for his fieldwork later and–”

“It doesn’t matter who goes with him, right? I’ll go with him instead.”

“Huh? Are you sure? I don’t mind, plus he specifically asked me so maybe–”

“Y/N, it’s fine, really! I used to go on client visits all the time before he started dragging you along with him. I’ll be okay, promise!” He’s confident in his words, reassuring you of all the concerns he knew were starting to bubble up in your head. “I know you’ve been worried about getting everything done before the deadline, you shouldn’t have to waste your precious time following him around and pretending like you care about his wife.”

The comment makes you giggle, everyone knew the senior for the way he could go on and on about his family life knowing damn well no one was actually listening to his neverending rants. “Thank you, Sanghyeok. It means a lot, really.”

“Maybe we’ll be able to leave at the same time today, yeah?”

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Two days before the deadline. . .

The following day, after everyone else in the office logged out for the night, Sanghyeok sneaks back into the office. He made it his mission to discreetly plant a care package for you while you’re busy in the printer room– It’s nothing big, no, rather just a hot cup of tea and a sandwich he’d purchased from the cafe across the street from the building.

You’d offhandedly mentioned the way you get so immersed in your work without anyone peering over your shoulder that you forget to cater to your growing hunger, often resorting to eating instant ramen in the break room before returning to your desk. Sanghyeok knew how much the project meant to you, but that didn’t mean he was going to let you neglect your health just for a positive response from your old boss.

You’re confused when you come back to your cubicle, finding all of your previously haphazardly scattered project papers perfectly organized in a folder by the edge of the desk. The lid was taken off the cup of tea, presumably to let it cool down a bit before drinking. Huh? The note atop the sandwich container answered the questions lingering in your mind.

hope you don’t mind me moving some stuff around on your desk :p eat up before you get back to work! good luck y/n! sanghyeok ( ≧ᗜ≦)

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ One day before the deadline. . .

“You think Alvin will mind if I borrow his spot today?” Sanghyeok questions, swiveling around in an office chair that didn’t belong to him.

“You could probably erase all the files off his computer and he wouldn’t bat an eye,” You joke as you sort through the stacks of papers residing on your desk, looking for a particular document. “I’m convinced he gets paid to just sit there and play card games for eight hours.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him touch his keyboard.” Sanghyeok chuckles before logging into the computer beside you.

“Why’re you using his computer though? You’re not going home yet?”

“I think it’s only fair for me to help you finish the proposal when we’re supposed to be submitting it tomorrow,” Sanghyeok answers matter-of-factly. You watch as he opens up the same powerpoint you’ve been staring at on his own monitor. It’s quiet for a few minutes, the only sounds coming from the occasional clicks of your mouse. “...Doesn’t it get lonely working all by yourself?”

You pause to think for a moment. It’s not the worst thing in the world, you’re sure you wouldn’t be capable of doing it everyday if it was that unbearable. “No, not really. If anything, it’s nice to not have anyone pulling me away from my desk for some stupid shit– Sorry, stupid stuff.” You correct yourself.

“I know we’re still at work and all, but you don’t need to censor yourself when it’s just us. I’m not gonna snitch on you for cursing on the clock, Y/N.” He teases, not surprised to see that you’re still in work-mode even when the office is practically empty.

“Oops, just force of habit. I'd rather die than accidently curse in front of one of the oldies we work with,” You smile sheepishly, feeling at ease with him at your side. You’re not sure when you grew so fond of the man – maybe it’s because of how similar you are in age or the way he’s always so quick to defend you in the meeting room – but he’s always felt like more of a friend than a co-worker in times like these. “...It’s nice to have some company for a change, though. Felt like I was going insane looking at the same documents all by myself.”

“It’s okay to admit you get lonely sometimes, Y/N.” Sanghyeok pauses his typing to look at you, his eyes soft when they meet yours. “I was thinking about it on my way home the other day, you know, the way you willingly stay in the office after everyone leaves every night. It’s hard to imagine it isn’t difficult being by yourself all the time.”

You’re silent, knowing that he’ll see through you no matter what you say. Sure, you had your fair share of moments sitting crying at your desk, in fear that your efforts wouldn’t pay off despite how much you’ve been trying, but that doesn’t mean you need his help. You made it this far all on your own, after all.

And when you fall asleep at your desk, exhaustion finally catching up to you, Sanghyeok doesn’t hesitate to rest a sweater on your back. He knows how upset you’ll be once you wake up, bummed that you dozed off at such a crucial time, but he’s more than happy to let you sleep for a bit before gently shaking you awake after a well-deserved power nap.

“Shit, how long was I knocked out for?” Embarrassed, you rub the sleep from your eyes, turning away to yawn.

“It wasn’t even thirty minutes, you’ll be fine Y/N. I finished editing a section of the report while you were sleeping too.” You tap on your mouse, waking up the black screen, happy to see that a good chunk of the comments you’d made on the document were long resolved. “Can you promise me something?”

You’re offset by the sudden serious mood lingering between you two, but you slowly nod regardless. “Even when this project is over, will you promise to come to me if you need help?”

“I know I only joined your team recently, but I want you to know you can depend on me. It’s not fair for you to do all this on your own,” Sanghyeok can sense the way you’re processing his request in your mind, watching as you hesitate to answer. “I know it’s probably weird coming from someone who’s only been here a couple months longer than you, but I promise I’ll try my best if you ever need me.”

“Okay.”

“...So that means you won’t try to turn me down whenever I offer to do something for you, right?”

“Yes, Sanghyeok, I won’t turn you down when you try to help me.” You roll your eyes at him before turning back to your computer, missing the way his face lights up at your response, proudly smiling to himself.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The day of the deadline. . .

You’re sure you could cry tears of joy when you send the final version of your project proposal to your boss. There were a few sections you wish you had more time to perfect, but it was impossible without an extension to your deadline– There’s nothing else to do but wait until you get feedback, which is entirely out of your hands at this point. 7:15PM. It’s still two hours past the usual 5:00PM ending time, but far earlier than you’ve clocked out in the past two weeks.

“You’re actually leaving at the same time as me? I’m not dreaming, right?” Sanghyeok pinches at his cheek, earning a giggle from you in response.

“Well, I just forwarded all the documents to our boss. Felt like I deserved at least one early night during the holidays,” You close your eyes as you fall back in your chair, letting out a content sigh knowing there wasn’t anything else you had to do for a while. “God, I don’t know what I’d do without you, Sanghyeok.”

He holds the door for you after you’ve both collected all of your belongings, bundled up for the harsh temperatures waiting for you outside the building. The elevator ride down is silent until the man next to you clears his throat, prompting you to look at him. “So, do you have plans tonight?”

“Ah, not really. I was planning on picking up some dinner at the convenience store before heading back to my place.” He nods, fiddling with his tie in a feeble attempt to calm down his nerves from what he was about to do.

“Can I take you out to dinner, Y/N?” Your eyes widen slightly, unsure what to make of the question. Was he… asking you on a date right now? It wasn’t out of the ordinary for coworkers to share a meal off the clock, but the fact that it was just the two of you had your brain malfunctioning. “...You know, as a thank you for working so hard on the project! It’s the least I can do.” Sanghyeok laughed nervously, hand flying up to the back of his neck as he waited for your response.

It doesn’t take long for you to decide your answer, nodding in confirmation, feeling slightly bashful at the sudden act of appreciation you weren’t used to receiving, especially not at work. There’s a pep in his step as he brings to you one of his favorite ramen spots, a hole-in-the-wall joint tucked away from the main streets. It’s cute, honestly. You’ve learned a lot about your coworker in recent days, but this side of him was entirely new to you.

You’re glad you trusted his recommendations when you take your first bite, the hot broth immediately melting the chills you garnered from the short walk there. Despite this being your first interaction with Sanghyeok outside of work, there’s no awkwardness in your time spent together– Instead, a fuzzy feeling rests in your chest as you look at the man sitting across the table from you. Perhaps it’s due to the newfound absence of pressure on your back from sending in the project proposal, or maybe because it’s the first time you’ve allowed yourself a proper meal in days, but it’s a feeling you don’t wish to lose any time soon.

Usually you’re one to rush back home immediately after dinner, not wanting to lose any second of rest you have before you’re forced to go back to the hell you call work, but you’re more than happy to accept Sanghyeok’s invitation to go to a nearby bar for some drinks following the meal you shared. It’s there you realize he’s a lot wittier than he comes off as when you’re on the clock, your cheeks aching from smiling so hard at his endless supply of jokes.

You don’t stay there long, only garnering a couple drinks before finding yourself walking around one of the parks in the area you didn’t even know existed, gawking at the string lights adorning the trees. Work was taking up all of your attention that you didn’t even have the time to decorate your apartment for the holidays like you normally would’ve. This was the closest thing you could get, but you were far from complaining.

“I never expected you to be like this, Sanghyeok.” You confess after coming down from the fit of laughter he’d induced with one of his stupid puns.

“What do you mean?” He asks, worried that he’d done something wrong.

“Oh, I wasn’t trying to say anything bad! You’re just… A breath of fresh air, I guess.” Your words emit a cloud of vapor in the frigid air. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice it sooner, I’ve been a real shut-in especially with the deadline and–”

“You don’t need to apologize for that, Y/N.” He cuts you off; he’s well aware of your tendency to apologize for things that you didn’t need to be sorry for in the first place. It was one of the only things he wished he could change about you, wanting you to give yourself more credit for the love you poured into everything you did. “I just wanted to make your life easier, I guess. Thanks for giving me the chance to do that tonight.”

“I should really be the one thanking you. You’ve been nothing short of helpful ever since you joined our team,” Thinking back on the past couple days, Sanghyeok never once shied away from doing things to ease your burdens, even going out of his way so you could focus all your attention onto what mattered most to you. “It’s like you were some sort of holiday miracle sent to me.”

Unwrapping the scarf from his neck, Sanghyeok carefully loops it around the back of your head, securing it snugly at the front of your jacket. “It’s freezing… You should really be layering up more.” He’s glad the lighting on the trees is too dim for you to see the blush creeping up his neck after seeing you in his clothes. He’d probably blame it on the frosty air if you called him out on it. “Ah, it’s snowing!”

The gaze you were previously sharing is broken as you look up, crystal white snowflakes slowly sinking from the sky. It was surreal to be standing in the middle of the park, ambient light illuminating the way the snow ended their descent atop your heads, your shared laughter harmonizing at the sight.

And despite the cold weather, you felt warm standing next to him.

#ᯓᡣ𐭩 my writing #onedoornet #odn — a very onedoor christmas #boynextdoor riwoo #riwoo #riwoo x reader #riwoo fic #riwoo oneshot #lee riwoo #lee sanghyeok #sanghyok x reader #riwoo fluff #x reader #kpop writing #boynextdoor writing #boynextdoor fic #boynextdoor fluff

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americasass81 · 2 months ago

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Where The Heart Leads

Warnings 18+ for the following:- Mostly Fluff, Use of Pet Name, Very Brief Bomb Mention, Very Brief Mention of Anxiety, Feelings of Insecurity, Very Minor Implied Sex. Seriously do not read if any of this upsets you, the warnings are there for a reason. Feedback is welcomed and any mistakes are my own.

By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

Author’s Note 1:- Some time in the making, this companion piece to my dark/soft CEO Steve Rogers fic Deck The Balls , a special shoutout has to go to @navybrat817 , @stargazingfangirl18 (and of course @drabblewithfrannybarnes ) for inspiring this Hoeliday creation. Thank you so much lovelies.

Challenge parameters:- CEO Johnny Storm (Character), “Sweetheart, that (article of clothing) just got you added to the naughty list.” (Dialogue), Cuddling for warmth (scenario)

Author’s Note 2:- Although a reader insert in their original tale, for the purposes of this fic, Steve’s gal is given a name here.

Author’s Note 3:- As always, all images have been found through google search.

Synopsis:- It’s the start of the Holiday Season and a mysterious box may just hold the key to your dreams … if you're only brave enough to seize the opportunity.

Pairings:- soft!CEO Johnny Storm x Reader.

Total Word Count:- 5,568

Turning off your computer, leaving your desk and checking in on Francine before you made your way down to the conference room, your mind was still struggling with what you were doing and how you were dressed. And your friend's reaction didn't help matters. Working alongside her now these past five years as Johnny Storm's personal assistant, it was safe to say you had ended up with the better boss. Well at least the more easy going one anyway. For while Steve Rogers was by the book in office interactions, Johnny by comparison was easy to talk to, quick with a joke and seemed well aware of the type of appeal he had with the ladies. Not that he ever mixed things up at the office as far as you knew. Neither of the guys did.

But Steve, while still easy on the eyes, was definitely far more reserved and expected excellence from every member of staff that considered this their place of employment. Not that Francine ever seemed to mind and god knows she never complained. Working every bit as late, if not later, than her own boss Steve Rogers, you just hoped she would take some time to enjoy the Christmas party she had worked so tirelessly to make perfect. After all, if anyone in the company deserved to let loose and enjoy themselves it was her. So why then did it feel like that particular task had been passed on to you? Not that you had time to ask her however as a more pressing question took precedence at this time having been in the back of your mind all day.

--- BEGIN FLASHBACK ---

Stepping off the elevator together that morning as the janitorial staff were just unplugging the last of their equipment, you and Francine continued to chat through the common appointments for the day before the large boxes waiting on your desks brought a stop to your conversation and a puzzled look settled on both of your faces ... for these unexpected deliveries did not belong here. Looking back and forth now between each other and the mysterious items before then casting your gazes towards the janitorial staff, a quick step out of her office door by Francine told you that she was taking charge of the situation like always. Something you were only too grateful for as you watched her go.

Striding towards Larry, the head janitor, with a purpose you had seen her display countless times around the office when things weren't running the way they should, a quick conversation later and she was back at your office door now apparently no wiser than when she had left her own. "Larry doesn't know what they contain or who dropped them off," she explained, glancing now between you and the beautifully wrapped box taking up a nice portion of your desk space, "any ideas what we should do about them?" she then inquired and you had to admit that this was not the reaction you had expected. After all, Francine had three more years experience of working here over you, which meant she at least should have had some idea how best to handle this.

Thankfully for you however it seemed this question had been rhetorical as she ignored your vacant stare now and hurried back into action.

Striding across the hall towards her own office once more whilst simultaneously removing her jacket, she quickly dropped both it and her bag neatly just outside the door and then carefully moved beside her desk in a manner that still left her with a clear pathway out again should her next actions not go favorably.

Taking mental notes meanwhile on every action she took now from your own office doorway, you moved out into the hallway however when she beckoned you forwards but stopped just as swiftly when she gestured for you to do so. It seemed she wanted you in the hallway ready to make a run for it should the need arise. Which didn't bring you any comfort whatsoever. But her added gesture for you to remain quiet meant this was a concern you were not permitted to voice it seemed. Continuing to stare in silence now as Francine then slowly, but carefully, brought her ear down to the package, your heart meanwhile thundered in your chest as the seconds ticked by and you didn't know how much more uncertainty you could handle until flesh met paper and finally Francine's thumb appeared upright before your frightened eyes to indicate that everything was all right.

Or at least as all right as it could be given what she had suspected. No way were you prepared it seemed to deal with a bomb threat now or at any time in the future. But thankfully you wouldn't have to apparently. Breathing a sigh of relief now while picking up her jacket and bag and joining her in her office as both of you still looked suspiciously at the exquisite package, Francine next examined it for any signs of identification before asking you to do the same.

Returning to your own office now and noticing no card, writing or anything of any informative value, both of you now took a quick glance at the office clock before Francine decided that enough time had been wasted on this useless endeavor. So picking up the phone and ringing down to the main floor, a hurried yet precise conversation with Melissa at reception told her that these two packages had not been professionally delivered, had not gone through reception as was the required protocol and were not even mentioned in the catalog of deliveries for any day this week.

Which in your mind left only one possible explanation ... these had to have somehow been arranged by your bosses. But whether Francine agreed with that assessment remained to be seen.

Placing the phone back down and taking one last withering look at the clock again, Francine next took hold of either end of the cover and carefully lifting it off, pulled back the tissue inside to reveal a glimpse of what looked to be the most beautiful dress she had ever seen before. Suspecting now that this was probably meant to be worn to the Christmas party taking place beneath her feet this very night, she skimmed her fingers lightly over the shimmering material before placing the cover back on, moving the package to the nearest available out of the way surface and turning her attention back to you. "Well go on, see what someone gifted you," she said with a smile before watching you walk back to your office while she instead went about starting off her working day.

Doing now as she had done and also revealing a dress far more beautiful and expensive than anything you had ever imagined setting eyes on, let alone wearing, the ding of the main elevator told you your conversation with Francine regarding the possible source of these garments and what to do with them would now have to wait until a quieter time presented you with the opportunity. As it was, working for Steve Rogers and Johnny Storm, that quieter time would apparently be when the office had shut down for the holiday season and you were on your way to the party in the very same dress that was now meant to be part of that postponed conversation. And what a conversation that ended up being.

--- END FLASHBACK ---

Looking up from her desk and the mountain of work she had laid out before her as you cleared your throat to get her attention, her eyes practically popping out of their sockets as you gave her a little twirl was nothing compared to the greeting she gave you when you finally stopped moving. "Well don't you look sexy this festive season. I hope your secret admirer gets to appreciate you in that getup," she teased with a smile as you made your way further into her office before taking a seat in one of the empty chairs in front of her desk.

Smiling back at her now while your eyes flicked between her workload, her business attire and her own boxed up dress still sitting off to the side where she had left it that morning, you quickly decided now was as good a time as any to tell her your theory on the dresses while making sure that a party appearance had been marked on her calendar. Her response however was not what you expected.

Confirming that such an appearance was indeed on the cards once she finished up the waiting emails and signed her name to the last few documents in the top folder, your delight took a pummeling however when she pointed out the flaws in your theory regarding the dresses. For one it seemed that while she trusted Rogers and Storm to handle meetings and run an extremely successful company, that trust did not extend to them knowing how to order two high end ladies dresses and get them delivered to their place of employment without anyone around them ever finding out. Secondly, which was a point you totally had to agree on, she couldn't see how they could have gotten both of your measurements correct enough for the dresses in question to fit as well as yours obviously did.

No, she may not have known who sent them but she was fairly certain that this was one task way outside the expertise, not to mention the comfort zone, of the two men whose corporate asses both of you covered on a daily basis. And now that you thought about it from the point of view of all you actually did for Johnny, you kind of had to agree. Sort of. But who then did that leave? However, it was on this question you would have to leave things when Francine kindly pointed out that sitting in her office pondering the who, how and why would solve nothing when the culprit was most likely waiting among the many bodies gathered downstairs at this very moment waiting for your entrance. An entrance she herself would make when the last i had been dotted and the final T crossed.

Nodding at her now in total agreement as you watched her return to her work as a means of ending the conversation, you wished her a Merry Christmas, rose from the chair and felt a bit better heading off towards the party now with her uttered reassurance that you would see her there later. If only that feeling could have made the full trip with you however. Watching the numbers blink down from the corporate offices to the conference floor, your hands smoothing out the fabric and no one to talk to brought out all your own insecurities however as your mind asked itself what exactly might be expected from you if indeed the person who purchased the dress was present to witness you wearing it. Never mind what everyone else might think.

Stepping out of the elevator now onto the conference floor, the imposter syndrome was louder here than the music seeping out through the crystal clear doors after the trip down however and it seemed to be winning out over the holiday spirit evident in every decoration and partygoer dotted throughout the room ahead..

Watching the elevator close behind you while placing your hand on the door before you, you quickly took a moment to step off to the side and rest your shoulder against the nearest wall as your nerve faltered and the truth of who you were finally won out ... for you truly didn't belong here. Oh sure, as a personal assistant you had proven yourself more than capable of answering phones, arranging meetings and replying to the countless emails that filled Johnny Storm's inbox on a daily basis. But everything else? Dealing with clients. Arranging events like the one Francine had pulled off this very night on the other side of the wall. Hell, even handling the situation with the dresses as she had done so efficiently that morning. No, these were things you were certain you would never get the hang of no matter how many years you worked here.

So what then were you doing standing here in this expensive dress about to enter a party you had no earthly business even attending? You should simply head back into the elevator, push the button for the parking level and drive yourself home for the quiet, relaxing holiday that always welcomed you like an old friend. Now if only fate would allow you that opportunity. As it was it seemed it, or more accurately he, had a different plan in mind for you as a strong body made its presence known against your back just as two suit-clad arms encircled your waist and temporarily short circuited your brain from its fight or flight response. Which ended up being a good thing given where you were and who those very same arms happened to belong to.

Resting his chin against your shoulder now while holding you still as your brain tried to figure out what best to do in this situation, the voice whispering in your ear suddenly cleared enough of the fog surrounding this development to make you realize you knew this person ... or at least you thought you did. "Sweetheart, that dress just got you added to the naughty list. Let's see if I can join you there before this night is over," he whispered before releasing you and moving forward to stand beside your startled form. "Shall we?" he then continued with a smile while reaching out his hand for you to take before escorting you into the heart of the party. Which totally blew your startled mind.

Standing beside him arm in arm now as both of you walked through the conference room doors, the music should have settled your nerves and pulled you into the festive season, but your mind was still reeling from the way things were currently playing out. For it seemed your theory had been one hundred percent correct.

Smiling politely now and shaking hands with anyone that offered you theirs, you and Johnny made a quick, yet graceful, path through the room as he expertly greeted those clients whose sole reason for being here it seemed was to grab some attention from one, if not both, of the head men responsible for yet another successful financial year. Talking, laughing and spending as much time as he deemed necessary with each client, while also somehow making sure that you were never treated as window dressing, eventually snagging two drinks off the tray of a passing waiter and steering both of you to a quiet corner, your body landing on the soft sofa was a welcome relief beneath you ... even if it did now allow time for the reality of what had just happened to finally hit you.

"Mr. Storm, what the hell was all that?" you asked in a murmured rush before he handed you a glass of champagne which you swiftly emptied in one go if for no other reason than to settle your nerves and stop the babbling you knew was just beginning. Thankfully however he at least seemed to be far better at handling the situation than you. As was evident by his response.

Taking a generous, yet controlled, sip of his own drink now while letting his eyes travel the length of your body, it seemed he was happy with his assessment that you weren't about to pass out on him and so began his quick explanation. Reminding you that the main function of these events was to make the clients feel important enough to mix socially with himself and Steve while also rewarding the staff for the excellent work they did throughout the year, his obligations had been satisfactorily fulfilled and it was now time for him to enjoy himself. Which was where he hoped you would come in, he continued and this time it was your turn to beckon forward the nearest waitress as another round of champagne was definitely needed to drown out the doubts and questions bubbling up within you once more. Not that he was having any of it apparently.

Shooing the waitress away and instead allowing you an adequate sip of the liquid courage still contained within his own sparking crystal glass, the music shifting to a slow haunting melody seemed to give him a more appropriate means of distracting you once more. One you however were not all that excited about. Taking the glass back from your lips and dabbing a napkin at the small drop of liquid that lingered behind, his hand then reaching for yours again as he now stood up and pulled you gently to your feet caught you off guard just enough to make you believe he was once more leading you towards a client he had probably missed on his initial entrance. For his actual plan was far worse than you ever could have imagined as his intentions became clearer.

Leading you now to the middle of the floor however as dancing couples parted as they might for important dignitaries, Johnny positioning your body lightly before him while he then placed his hand on the small of your back made your whole world spin with the realization of what he had in mind. He actually expected you to dance with him it seemed, which was a totally alien concept to you. After all you had successfully avoided public shamings like this your whole life ... at least until now. Tuning in on your anxiety however while whispering gently to follow his lead, he next took your hands, placed them respectfully on his own body and closed the distance between both of you before beginning a waltz he hoped would ease your tension and bring out your fun side ... but it seemed it wasn't to be.

Moving with him stiffly as your long forgotten childhood dance lessons tried to carry you along, your mind couldn't steal itself away from the countless sets of eyes following your movements and zeroing in on each and every mistake you invariably made however. Which in turn only made you more tense. A fact you were grateful that Johnny at least picked up on when the tune finally ended and he walked you back to the sofa and the little slice of privacy it provided. Not that it would be enough for you it seemed.

Sitting back down on it now and snatching up his glass to polish off the rest of his now warm and flat champagne before he could even object about what a bad idea that actually was, you were just about to call out for another glass as you had tried to earlier when Johnny instead took charge of the situation once more. Reaching out and talking your hand again, he pulled you from the sofa once more while silencing any objections you might have with a look that clearly told you to just follow his lead. Glancing around the room then to make sure your presence was not being observed, he now walked both of you out of the nearest door and led you hand in hand to the first elevator to open its doors.�� It seemed he was changing the venue which should have brought you some measure of relief, but that apparently would have been a Christmas miracle.

Stepping inside now and watching anxiously as the doors closed, Johnny pressed the button to take both of you back to the offices, past Francine's now empty one and straight through the heavy wooden doors that opened directly into the C.E.O.s private section. But your journey didn't stop there it seemed. Wondering to yourself now if Francine was finally downstairs enjoying the fruits of her labor instead of focusing on the gutted state of her once inhabited office, your mind became further distracted now however as Johnny inserted a key in the panel before you, waited for the doors of these new elevators to open and ushering you inside now placed his thumb over the P1 button and pressed it.

Standing beside you then while glancing sideways at you to make sure your anxiety had not rendered you helpless, experience reminded you that this was a trip you had never taken before and as the doors eventually opened on a floor you had never seen in your life, your suspicion was proven true and any anxiety you had felt downstairs had now skyrocketed upwards to world ending levels. For this was most definitely a private floor and one you were fairly certain you wanted nothing to do with whatsoever. But was he the type of man to give you a choice?

Turning to face you now as your eyes focused solely on the door opposite, Johnny broke the silence and your staring when he began to speak. "Well here we are, my private apartment. I thought, given how ... uncomfortable you seemed with all the attention downstairs that maybe you'd feel more relaxed here," he explained before continuing, "if you want to leave however, I can totally arrange that," he added, placing his hand back on the elevator button for closing the doors now, "but I'm hoping you'll stay," he finished and you had to admit the look he gave you now seriously made you wonder.

Reminiscent of a kid wishing and waiting for something he'd always wanted, could you really deny him then? Looking frantically now between the apartment door, your dress and your boss, whom it seemed owned both, your thoughts drifted back once more to your earlier question of what payment would be expected for the garment you now wore. Well, it seemed that question may finally have been given an answer.

But where then did that leave you? Were you really going to risk your job, one you actually loved, to be another notch on Johnny Storm's bedpost? Oh sure, you may have only worked for him these past five years and you would definitely be the first to admit you didn't know every finer detail about his life, likes or dislikes. But your ears still worked. You had, like everyone else you imagined, heard the rumors running rampant throughout the office gossip pools about the scores of broken hearts Johnny Storm and Steve Rogers had left scattered all over the New York area. But was it actually true and if so, did you really want your name added to that list as you searched through the unemployment ads after this whole thing inevitably came crashing down?

Calling your name now to bring you out of your thoughts and get your attention back on him, a reassuring glance at his fingers still hovering where he had left them and it seemed however that your mind was made up.

Allowing you to enter the apartment first as the door slid into the wall to facilitate your passage, the sight that greeted you here however was not quite what you had pictured. Not that you had ever pictured what Johnny Storm's corporate apartment actually looked like. In fact, before tonight, you never even imagined using the words corporate apartment for either of these guys. The men came to work, took meetings and gave out directives. But then, whenever work finally cut them loose and afforded them a modicum of rest, you assumed they returned home or to hotel suites and did whatever it was big, successful C.E.O.s did until the corporate world called out to them all over again the next morning.

At least that's what you always thought. They certainly didn't live in a place like this. For looking around this open plan space now told you that this was no booty call, bachelor pad. Not that you knew what those even looked like, mind you. But this place certainly had a touch of love about it.

For starters, the white and blue Christmas decorations tastefully placed throughout the kitchen and living area showed signs of use upon closer inspection and when Johnny appeared with two mugs of hot chocolate and marshmallows, inside Santa and a snowman no less, you knew these mugs at least were not picked up at some fancy corporate office decorating store. These mugs had been picked out with a love of the season in mind, used for the time period it covered and carefully stored away afterwards to be pulled out again twelve months later. They were a personal item. One of many you now noticed prominently placed around the apartment as you took the snowman mug from Johnny and let your eyes wander while the delicious liquid calmed you in a way the champagne downstairs couldn't seem to do.

Or maybe it was the apartment and its homey feeling that was phishing away your anxiety. For your eyes could confirm the place was definitely lived in.

Moving away from the kitchen area now and the few dirty food items waiting in the sink, a sweater thrown on the arm of the sofa, logs piled up by the side of the fireplace that had just previously been used if the ashes in the grate were any indication, a tie hanging on the end of the stairs banister leading up to what you assumed was the sleeping area, this place, wrapped in all the trimmings of the holiday season definitely felt more like your scene than the party you had left a few floors below you.

And perhaps that's what Johnny had picked up on as he now joined you by the Christmas tree that seemed to hold so many items near and dear to his heart. "So tell me, is this more your comfort zone?" he inquired gently as his unoccupied hand came up to rest against your waist once more and you found yourself slipping back against his larger frame as you had downstairs when he first appeared behind you.

"Yes, it's beautiful," you confirmed, "but why bring me here?" you asked, even though you knew he had told you why when the elevator doors had opened on this floor. But maybe you needed to hear him say where his mind was going. At least that had been the plan until he actually complied with your request and started talking. Then the bubble burst. Taking your hand yet again and walking you over to the sofa which now seemed to be a prerequisite in your dealings with him, no amount of hot chocolate, champagne or any other alcoholic beverage on the planet it seemed would be enough to shore up your courage for the answer you received however. For it seemed he wanted you.

Not as a one night stand. Not as some trophy wife he paraded around at corporate functions. Not even as a broodmare to perpetuate his legacy into future generations. No, the reality it seemed was far, far worse. He wanted, as he explained, to love you, marry you and show you the world. He wanted you to remain on as his assistant if you so wished, but he also dreamed of falling asleep beside you every night, waking up in your arms each morning and sitting beside you old and gray on a balcony or porch somewhere as the twilight of your lives settled in and all the years of love and laughter both of you had shared together had proved to him that you indeed were the one. The only soul his own called out to.

Stunned into silence now by this naked and soul displaying confession, your eyes searched his frantically for some sign of lies or deception to trick you into giving him something you were not prepared to bargain away through fancy words and expensive deeds, but what you saw shocked you worse than the cold tendrils of death's touch. He was telling you the truth. For his love was as evident here in this moment as his sincerity had been back in the elevator when he promised to let you leave if you so wished. So what the hell were you supposed to do now?

A one night stand and the possible fallout afterwards might actually have been more preferable now to the path that lay before you here. A roll in the sheets and the stigma that followed, that you could rebound and rebuild from. Move to a different company, a different state. Hell, there was nothing to stop you from simply getting on a plane and starting over in a different country if that's what was left for you. But this? What Johnny had just described? That was a life. A life built on love, memories and two hearts becoming one. One did not just rebuild and recover from the loss of something like that and you honestly didn't think you were brave enough to find out if you could. But what option then did that leave you? Were you brave enough either to walk away from even the possibility of such a thing?

Sensing now that perhaps your mind was somehow winning out over your heart and therefore talking you out of something he desperately longed for, Johnny took your hand in his once more and waited now for your attention to slip fully back to him before he spoke again. "Please, I've told you what I'm thinking and honestly my feelings for you form the basis of all that. I love your smile, your laugh. I love how kind and compassionate you are to everyone you work with, without being a doormat. Hell, I even love how you handle the clients, even the smarmy ones, while still retaining your dignity and decorum," he stated and though you wanted to remind him that Francine for example also possessed those same qualities, something told you he wasn't finished, so you held your tongue and allowed him to continue.

"But most of all, I love how you have never let the gossip of the office dictate your opinion of me, as I see so many others have," he finished and in that moment you caught a glimpse of what you thought was genuine hurt flit across his features and it actually saddened you. For you alone had seen a different side of him, you had merely been too busy work wise to give it any sort of romantic value.

You had been there after all for the toy drives he had organized and funded from his own personal finances with the proviso that no public trace ever lead back to him. You had helped sort out paid leave for staff members above and beyond that which was covered in their employment contracts on his authorization whenever he deemed it wholly necessary. Hell, you had even been part of a meeting with Francine and Steve Rogers three months back when the two C.E.O.s had pooled their resources and called in a handful of favors to ensure that one of their longtime employees would not lose their home due to a health crisis that threatened to wipe them out financially as well as medically.

All this again with the stipulation that no one ever found out. A good deed was its own reward seemed to be his motto and now it appeared it was more than that. It was a way of life for him. A kindness embedded deep in every fiber of his being and one, if you were truly honest with yourself, endeared him to you on a human level. So why then couldn't you tell him this? Was it really a fear of things falling apart? Or worse yet, was it the fear that the more time he spent with you outside of work, the more he would realize you were never truly worthy of his love to begin with? You didn't get to figure this answer out however when Johnny broke your thought pattern once more, as seemed to be his super power, and asked you now to simply tell him what your heart felt. And that it seemed did the trick and broke the dam wide open on all that you had ignored these past five years.

For you did indeed love him also. You loved his looks, you loved his business skills and sense of humor, but as he had just described of you, you loved the heart he tried so hard to hide away from the world and as these exact words tumbled from your lips, you knew now which path your future lay on when hours later as your naked bodies lay cuddling for warmth in Johnny's bed, the life he spoke of earlier called both of you now into its waiting embrace. And given all that you knew about him and what your body had just experienced beneath his sheets, walking away from him had stopped being an option when your orgasmic haze had died away and the love you indeed felt for each other was all that remained to carry you onwards. For you couldn't live without him and, where this thought had once terrified you, it now brought you a future you reached out for and grabbed hold of with a newfound certainty that everything was finally right with your world.

#soft!CEO Johnny Storm x Reader #christmas 2024

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arrolyn1114 · 10 months ago

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Yes, same here! Ask away!

Reblog if you write fic and people can inbox you random-ass questions about your stories, itemized number lists be damned.

#ask away #ask game #inbox open #reader feedback #Feedback is like Christmas morning seriously #Fanfic is a community activity. Its stories by a bonfire #fanfiction #Fanfic #Fanfic writers #fanfic authors #Fanfic readers #ao3

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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year ago

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LOVE your writing. Can you write a Christmas themed Luke Danes fic?

hello, thank you! merry christmas all!

summary - you go to luke's diner on christmas morning and exchange gifts.

the gif and dividers I use aren't mine.

You walked through the town, happily wishing everyone a good morning and a merry Christmas. Your dress flows around your legs as your pull your cardigan tighter around you. You grin as you enter the diner, hearing the soft chime of the bell. Luke’s diner had been decked out with Christmas decorations, all thanks to you and your convincing ways.

“Good Morning, Luke!” You skip over, leaning against the counter as you look up at the large man. “Merry Christmas!” You turn, reaching into your bag, pulling out a small box. “I know you said no presents, but I’m calling bullshit.” You smirk, handing over the gift.

Luke shakes his head. “Morning, and you are lucky because I ignored my rule too.” He reaches underneath the counter and pulls out a rectangular box, sliding it over as he grabs the one you are extending. “And… Merry Christmas.” He grunts, unwrapping the box and pulling the lid off, he looks up and stares at you. “Seriously?”

You grin, shrugging. “I knew how upset you were when your uncle was buried with his baseball cards, and I saw these and…” You let out a squeak as he walks around the counter and pulls you into a hug, burying his face into your hair.

“Thank you.” He pulls back, blinking his eyes rapidly to keep the tears away. “Now, open yours…”

You smile and unwrap your present, gasping as you pull out a necklace and a pair of earrings that you pointed out a while ago when his sister came to town. “Oh my god, Luke! Thank you!” You jump, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing him tight.

Luke grunts again before moving back around the counter and going into the kitchen without a word. You tilt your head, confused. “Luke?”

“Hold up!” He walks back out with a plate full of gingerbread biscuits, mini gingerbread houses, Christmas decorated donuts and cupcakes. “I made these for you.” He gently places the plate down and your smile widens. Luke rolls his eyes, unable to contain his smile. “Stop looking at me like that, it’s nothing.”

You smirk. “Mmhm, Luke Danes is the sweetest guy in town.”

He points, glaring. “Don’t go spreading that around, people might expect it.”

You place a hand on your chest. “Cross my heart.” You reach over and grab a biscuit, biting into it as you stare up at him. “Oh my god, this tastes really good, Luke.”

A soft blush covers his cheeks as he watches you enjoy his baking, even tasting some as you place it against his lips. The camera pans out, showcasing the two friends that are secretly in love with each other.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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middlemistcs13 · 1 month ago

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Gingerbread Houses and Plays and Christmas! Oh My!

Second and Final Chapter!

Here is the second chapter! Sorry for the delay! This is the second installment of my fic for Captain Swan Secret Santa 2024 @cssecretsanta2020 and this is my gift for @whimsicallyenchantedrose. Thank you so much for being so patient with me! You are seriously one of my very favorite authors, and I hope this has been an alright story! I've been very worried about making this good enough for you!

Any and all feedback is much appreciated! I'm still continuing to learn to be a better writer, and would love any thoughts you might have. Thanks so much for reading! I hope you all had a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! (Or a Happy Holidays if you don't celebrate Christmas!)

Rated: G

Word Count: 4K

“Pass the frosting, love,” Killian said, holding together two pieces of gingerbread. Emma passed him the pipping bag full of white frosting. The Swan-Jones household was busy making their gingerbread houses. They had cleared off the kitchen table and were all in deep concentration making their houses. Well, their gingerbread things. Emma and Hope were working on a gingerbread house together. Hope directed Emma and helped when possible. Henry had decided to make an AT-AT from Star Wars out of gingerbread. Killian had, as Henry predicted, decided to make the Jolly Roger out of gingerbread.

“They are so going to vote for my gingerbread being the best!” Henry said, confident in his artistic ability.

“Lad, don’t get too overzealous. I am creating a mighty fine ship over here.” Killian responded. The boys decided to display their gingerbreads for their family to judge and pick a winner tomorrow morning on Christmas Eve. Everyone would spend Christmas Eve over at Emma and Killian’s for breakfast before more gatherings would occur throughout the day. The loser of their friendly competition had to do the winner’s chores for a week.

“Mama! We need more gumdrops for my roof!” Hope interrupted her father and brother’s playful banter.

“Okay, relax. I’ll grab them.” Emma responded, shaking her head slightly at her toddler’s enthusiasm. She jumped up and down for five minutes when Henry told her they would make gingerbread houses this Christmas season. “Do you want more of the pink and purple ones or all the colors?”

“Purple! And pink! And all of them!” Hope said, practically bouncing in her chair. Killian laughed quietly at his daughter.

“Hey! Stop eating those candy pieces, little love. We need them for decorating. You can have a snack after we finish,” Killian chided Hope.

“Sowwy! Candy is dewiscious!” Emma handed the little girl some more gumdrops, and she quickly went to work adding some on the roof of their gingerbread house.

“Do you guys want some hot cocoa? I’m craving some,” Emma asked, getting the milk out of the fridge to boil on the stove. A chorus of “yes”es rang out in their kitchen. Emma got to work preparing four cups of hot cocoa while the milk boiled. This time next year they would have an infant, and everything would be hectic and crazy in a different way. Emma and Killian won’t be getting any sleep, and they had just gotten to the point that Hope would sleep through the night about a year and a half ago. They are still working on Hope staying in bed until at least 6:30 on school days, and 7 on weekends and breaks. Hopefully, Henry can come home from college for the winter holidays next year. Emma didn’t think it would ever feel like Christmas if all of her kids weren’t home.

The bubbling of boiling milk snapped Emma out of her thoughts, and she poured the glasses of milk into mugs before finishing making the hot chocolate exactly as they all liked. Emma took a minute to take in her family just the way they were- Henry laughing at something Killian had said, some flour in his hair; Killian putting a dab of icing on Hope’s nose, causing her to burst out into a fit of giggles; her husband entertaining their kids, his smile lines showing in the cold, winter light streaming through the windows. She hoped their home was always filled with love and laughter like it was in this perfect moment.

-------CS-------

“My AT-AT was better than your ship,” Henry grumbled as they walked up the steps to Regina’s mansion.

“Lad, just admit that you lost. Fair and square as they say,” Killian replied with a smirk.

“It’s only because the kids don’t know what an AT-AT is yet. Everyone loves the Jolly Roger. And you!” Henry snapped.

“Everyone loves me?”

“Killian, stop. It’s Christmas Eve. Stop antagonizing him,” Emma hushed. They greeted everyone at Regina’s house. They were evidently the last ones there. Zelena practically lived with Regina and Robin, and young Robin also lived with them and Roland. Emma’s parents and siblings were already there, and so were Belle and Gideon. Gold was apparently home with the flu. Not that she wished him ill, but she was certainly glad Gold was not there for Christmas Eve to prevent any possible feuds between him and Killian. Granny was also spending Christmas Eve with them since Ruby had moved to Kansas with Dorothy.

After greetings, they gathered around for their feast. It was a potluck of Christmas dishes, with a little of everything anyone could want to eat around the holidays. Emma was thankful her morning sickness was pretty much gone, because she was hungry and wanted to enjoy the food. They had brought Emma’s new found favorite dessert: a chocolate peppermint ganache brownie deliciousness. Emma was craving all things chocolate and peppermint right now, and she had made these brownies at least once a week for the past month. Most of their company seemed to enjoy the brownies as well, complimenting the couple. When everyone had finished eating, the adults helped clean up the kitchen and dishes, while Henry took the children to prepare for their play. Henry had his camera set up to film the play for his senior project. The children got into their costumes, and before long, the adults were settled and the play had gone underway. Emma and Killian sat on a loveseat together, his arms protectively draped over her shoulders. She laid her head on Killian’s shoulder as Henry began narrating the play.

Henry was a natural storyteller, and his job as the author only strengthened his skills. Henry had chosen to reenact Emma and Killian’s journey to the past in the Enchanted Forest, when Emma and Killian got to watch Snow and Charming fall in love. The children were playing different people, with Gideon playing his father, Neal as David, Margaret Ruth as Snow, Hope as Emma, Robin as Regina, and Roland as Killian. Henry weaved them through the story, with Hope and Roland going back in time, and arguing in the forest about getting back to the present. There was a costume change, and Hope was then wearing a cloak reminiscent of the Enchanted Forest. They then meet Gideon, who did an excellent job playing his father. Gideon even perfected Rumple’s voice he used before arriving in Storybrooke 30-some years ago. Hope and Roland had another costume change, and Hope was wearing a red satin dress she had worn for Christmas last year. Roland got down on his knees to help Hope dance during the “ball’. Robin, playing Regina, suddenly interrupted their dance and takes Hope prisoner. Roland and Neal converse before going to break Hope out of prison. Before they get there, Hope has escaped herself and delivers Emma’s famous line of “Sorry. No one saves me but me!” and winks at their audience. There’s a brief jump ahead and Hope and Roland help to ensure that Neal and Margaret Ruth meet for the first time. Hope and Roland once again talk with Gideon, before they discover that Hope has her magic again, and they return from their adventure into the past. They all hold hands and bow, finishing out their little play.

The adults burst out into applause, and congratulate the kids on their great performance. Every adult in the room embraces Henry and praises him for a job well done. Despite everyone speaking highly of Henry’s hard work, Henry can’t help but grumble.

“It would have went a lot smoother if they had actually bothered to practice!”

-------CS-------

“Mama! Papa! It’s Chwistmas! Get up! Get up! Get up!” Hope shrieked, making her way down the hallway to her parent’s bedroom.

“Ugh, already?” Emma mumbled into her pillow, pulling her husband's arms closer around her. His hand was firmly planted on her baby bump, thumb rubbing circles into her bare skin where her shirt had slid up in sleep. Killian kissed her shoulder before snuggling his face in her long blonde tresses. Hope opened their door and skipped to her father’s side of the bed.

“Papa! It’s Chwistmas!” She repeated, trying to climb up the bed. Killian relented and helped her up, tickling her in the process. “Papa!” Hope giggled, crawling on the bed to her mother for protection. Emma enveloped her daughter in her arms, kissing the little girl on her hairline.

“Good morning, baby,” Emma said, snuggling Hope closer to her.

“Morning, Mama. It's Chwistmas!” Hope said, her blue eyes shining in the early morning light.

“You’re right. It is Christmas morning. How’d you sleep?”

“Good! I had dweams that Santa bwought lots of presents! Maybe he bwought me a baby!” Hope said, suddenly remembering her dreams.

“A baby?” Emma questioned.

“Mhmm. I want a baby. Like I’m Henwy’s baby. I want a baby.” Hope explained.

“Like a baby brother or sister?”

“Yeah! Henwy says he likes being a big brother. I want to be a big sister!” Emma looked at her husband. He smiled at his girls, before nodding his head to his wife. This was their perfect opportunity.

“Well, Santa didn’t bring you a baby, but Papa and I have a surprise for you, sweet girl.” Emma began.

“A supwise?!” Hope perked up, her riotous blonde curls falling down her back.

“Your Mama has a baby in her tummy right now, little love,” Killian said gently, stroking his daughter’s hair as she looked intently at her parents.

“In your tummy?”

“Mhmm. Do you want to see?” Emma asked.

“Yeah!” Emma pulled their comforter down to reveal her baby bump. Hope probably also hadn't noticed because she’d been wearing baggy sweaters and coats to hide the baby bump from her parents. Hope placed her tiny hands on her mother’s stomach, curiously observing Emma’s breathing. “There’s a baby in your tummy? When does it come out?”

“The baby will come out of my tummy in the spring. In May, right before you get out of school for the summer,” Emma replied, placing her hands over Hope’s tiny ones.

“Is it a brother or a sister?”

“We don’t know yet, baby. We will get to know so soon at the next doctor’s appointment.”

“The baby has to go to the doctor?!” Hope asked incredulously.

“Well, kind of. Mama has to go to the doctor. The doctor has to check on Mama and the baby,” Killian chimed in. “We had to go to the doctor when you were in Mama’s tummy, too.”

“I was in Mama’s tummy?!”

“Yep. And your Papa would sing you lullabies every night to help you go to sleep.” Emma smiled at her little family.

“Just like you sing me lullabies now Papa! Did you sing to the baby yet?” Hope asked, hands exploring Emma’s stomach and pushing her shirt up over her bump. Hope was too young to remember Snow being pregnant with Margaret Ruth, so she hadn’t really ever been exposed to pregnant women before.

“I’ve sung a little bit, but the baby is still little, so it hasn’t been keeping your Mama up yet. When the baby gets a little bigger, it moves around. When you were big enough and moving around, you sometimes kept your Mama up at night. The only two things that would calm you down enough for Mama to sleep were for me to sing lullabies or for us to sleep on the Jolly Roger. You calmed down because of the waves gently rocking the ship.” Killian explained.

“I moved in your tummy?”

“All. The. Time. You loved kicking me all day long. And sometimes all night long.”

“Has my baby kicked you?” Hope asked, finally tearing her eyes away from her mother’s stomach and looking at her face.

“Your baby?”

“I’m Henwy’s baby, so this is my baby,” Hope said matter-of-factly.

“What about my babies?” Emma questioned the four-year-old’s logic.

“We are all your babies, Mama!” Hope giggled in response.

“Ahh, I see. And no, the baby hasn’t kicked yet. Maybe in a few weeks it will.”

“But if the baby is not kickin’ you, why you so sweepy?”

“Because that is just what happens. The baby has to grow a lot. It starts out smaller than the nail on your pinky finger and it gets as big as your baby doll. Then once the baby is out of my belly, it will get as big as Margaret Ruth, and you, and Neal, and Henry and even bigger, just like you are going to get bigger. But the baby is growing a lot, so I have to eat more for the baby, and it makes me tired when the baby is growing,” Emma attempted to explain. Hope nodded in understanding before sliding herself down so her face was right in front of the baby bump.

“Hi, baby! I’m Hope! I’m gonna be a big sister! Don’t make Mama too tired today, it’s Chwistmas! And we are gonna see Henwy and Grandma and Grandpa and Neal and Ruthie!”

“Hope, Grandpa and Grandma and Neal and Margaret Ruth don’t know about the baby yet. We have to tell them. Do you think you could help us tell them in a little bit?” Killian asked.

“Gwandma doesn’t know?! She knows everything!”

“Tell me about it, kid,” Emma said.

“I wanna tell them! I wanna tell them!” Hope exclaimed, before beginning to jump up and down on the bed.

“Be careful!” Emma and Killian said in unison.

“We have to be very careful with Mama because of the baby right now, little love,” Killian said gently.

“Sowwy Mama!”

“It’s alright sweet girl. Do you want to wake Henry up so we can get ready to go to Grandma and Grandpa’s?” Emma asked. Hope practically leaped off the bed and ran for the door, a “yes!” coming from her before she rounded the corner towards Henry’s room.

“Well, that went well,” Emma said sleepily, curling herself into Killian’s arms. Killian embraced his wife, blunt arm going around her back and his hand finding its place on her stomach once again.

“Aye, love. I told you there’d be nothing to worry about. Our girl loves her baby dolls and is practically your sister’s older sister. Everything will be fine. And I think your parents will be pleasantly surprised later,” Killian replied. They snuggled together in the stillness of the December morning for several more minutes, until Hope could again be heard down the hallway talking animatedly to Henry about babies and tummies.

-------CS-------

“Alright remember Hope- the baby is a secret until we tell you. Then you can tell Grandma and Grandpa,” Henry said, reminding his sister of their plan once more as they pulled up to the Nolan’s farmhouse. The house was decorated for Christmas with lights and garland lining the massive covered front porch.

“I ‘member!” Hope said, eagerly looking out the window at her grandparents’ house. “And it's a secret from Neal and Ruthie, too!”

“That’s right. It’s like how our play was a secret. We can’t tell them until Mama or Papa tells you. You did so good keeping the play a secret.”

“I’ll be good! I pwomise!” Hope said as Emma parked their car. When they were pregnant with Hope, Emma, and Killian had ventured out of Storybrooke looking for a newer and nicer car for their growing family. They decided on a new Subaru Outback, with 5 seats and plenty of safety features for their icy and snowy winters in Maine. The family got out of the car and made their way up the front steps before knocking and entering the warm house.

“Mmmm,” Emma said, smelling the aroma of spices and freshly baked goods in the foyer. “Mom, I have no idea what you’re making, but it smells so good.”

“Thanks, sweetheart! I just took the sourdough out of the oven! Should be perfect with the eggs your father is finishing up.” Snow replied, not leaving her spot in the kitchen. Emma, Killian, Henry, and Hope removed their boots and coats in the mudroom before venturing further into the house. Neal and Margaret Ruth came down the stairs in nice clothes, ready for the inevitable family photo. The children greeted each other before Neal made his way to his sister.

“Ems! Merry Christmas!” Neal greeted, giving Emma a big hug. Because he was ten, Neal’s head was at Emma’s abdomen height. In the tight hug, Neal realized something was impacting his ability to hug his sister. “Ems?” Neal questioned quietly, looking up from her shirt to Emma’s face. She just smiled before quietly telling him she would tell him later. He nodded before smiling at his older sister, going back in for a second hug. Snow finally made her way out of the kitchen to greet her daughter’s family, giving everyone hugs. Emma made sure she didn’t get too tight of a hug from her mother. She desperately tried to make it until Hope told her parents their little secret after breakfast.

They ate breakfast together in the dining room, talking animatedly about different things going on in their lives, specifically, about Henry’s play from the previous night.

“Henry, you just did such an incredible job. I have no idea how you pulled it off. I know we all loved it. We got to relive my love story with your grandfather, and a part of your mother’s love story. It was just really special. There’s a reason you are the writer,” Snow complimented.

“Thanks, Grandma. I thought you would like it,” Henry beamed. After breakfast, the adults helped clean up before they moved into the living room to open presents from each other.

“Alright, Hope. Come here,” Emma said after over an hour of opening presents. All the presents had been opened, so it was the perfect time for Hope to make their announcement. Hope followed her mother’s directions before Emma whispered in her ear.

“Okay, Mama,” Hope whispered back, grinning at her parents and Henry. She turned around to her grandparents who were sitting on another couch before skipping over to them.

“Gwandma and Gwandpa, there’s one more present!” Hope excitedly shared.

“There is? There’s nothing else under the tree sweetheart,” Snow said, looking from their vibrant Christmas tree to her granddaughter.

“It’s not under the tree silly!” Hope giggled. Snow and Charming looked more confused, but let Hope finish. “It’s from Mama! There’s a baby in her tummy right now!” The little girl shrieked. It took approximately 1.3 seconds for Snow to catch on before she jumped up off the couch screaming in excitement.

“I knew it! I knew something was going on! OH! I’m SO excited for you Emma! Another baby?! How wonderful is that!” Snow squealed, forcing Emma to stand before embracing her in a very tight hug.

“Mom. A little tight,” Emma muttered.

“Oh! Sorry! I’m just so excited! And you!” Snow said, turning to her husband. “You have to do the dishes for a month. I told you!” Snow bragged triumphantly.

“You made a bet that I was pregnant?” Emma questioned.

“Of course! You were just being so suspicious! The weird appetite? Wanting to eat more? The tiredness? Dear, you were a classic case!” Snow babbled. “And you weren’t telling me anything whenever I asked. That was a surefire sign!” Snow embraced her eldest again, before hugging her son-in-law.

“I’m so happy for you both!” Snow gushed. David had gotten over his initial shock, sure Killian would have told him earlier that they were pregnant again, and gathered Emma in his arms. One hand went around her back, and his other hand held her head like he always did when giving his daughter a comforting embrace.

“Congratulations, Emma. I don’t know how you continue to make me proud to be your father, but I am so happy for you, and I am so proud of you. I can’t wait to have another grandchild.” David said in Emma’s ear during their embrace.

“Thanks, Dad. It means a lot, and we’re both really excited,” Emma replied. David let go of his daughter before turning to his son-in-law (and best friend).

“I’m a little hurt you didn’t tell me earlier, especially when I specifically asked you how Emma was doing. But, I understand, and I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks, Dave. We wanted to present it as a surprise for Christmas,” Killian said, hugging his mate. David quickly wiped tears from under his eyes trying to appear strong in front of his family.

“Dad? Are you crying?” Emma asked, perplexed.

“Yeah, I just-. It’s something special to see your daughter growing up and being happy, Seeing you happy with Killian and with your growing family, it’s everything I wanted for you and more.” David’s comment brought a fresh layer of tears to Emma’s eyes, and she burrowed herself in her father’s arms once more.

“I’m glad you are in my life, Dad. You too, Mom. Merry Christmas. I didn’t realize I was going to get so emotional,” Emma said, wiping the tears from her eyes as she looked towards all of her family.

“Love, you’re four and a half months pregnant. Of course, you were going to get emotional.” Killian said, face broken out in a permanent smile.

“Four and a half months?!” shrieked Snow. Emma was never going to live down the fact that she hid her pregnancy from her mother for over four months, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. Her parents were emotional soon-to-be grandparents for the third time. Her siblings looked excited and were already talking with Hope about “her baby in Mama’s tummy”, and Henry just looked proud. She sure was proud of her kid, and thankful that he was so supportive of her and Killian growing their little family. Then there was her husband. Killian had rarely looked happier, except maybe when she told him she was pregnant with Hope or the day Hope was born. Gone was the rough-around-the-edges great pirate captain. A loving, kind, generous, and supportive man stood in his place, and Emma couldn’t ask for a better friend, husband, or father for her children.

It was a Merry Christmas, indeed.

#captain swan #emma swan #killian jones #once upon a time #ouat #captain swan secret santa #csss2024 #cs fic #cs family fluff #middlemistcs13fic

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arrolyn1114 · 2 years ago

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"comments and explicitly voiced appreciation are what keep writers going."

It is absolutely what keeps us going.

when ao3 is back up i want all of you to leave comments on the fics you were interrupted from reading, the fics you were looking to find, the fics you were thinking about re-reading, and the fics left open in your tabs for months now.

when ao3 is back up, i want you all to show some love to your favourite writers, favourite fics, or even just the 600 word one-shot that brought a smile to your face that tuesday three weeks ago.

when ao3 is back up i want you all to remember that comments and explicitly voiced appreciation are what keep writers going.

#writing community #creative writing #fanfic is a community activity. its stories by a bonfire #fanfic writers #fanfic #writers #ao3 #writing #fanfiction #reader feedback #Feedback is like Christmas morning seriously

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browneyedjoe · 2 years ago

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so, a cheeky and honestly filthy (for me) joe blurb. very much inspired by @lovejosephquinn recent blurb re their horny christmas eve morning thoughts. but okay, seriously, let’s imagine -:

p.s. also inspired by the 5 mimosas i've had in the last hour and my thought process after seeing this video.

p.p.s. this is officially the first smut i've written and i'm stressed because i'm very particular about the smut i read so any feedback is appreciated.

merry crisis, ya'll

it’s very early morning, the sun not yet risen but the sky a light shade of midnight blue. you’re peacefully asleep, duvet wrapped around your partially naked body and your hair, splayed on your pillow as if you were a mermaid underwater. you feel a shift, physically, a gentle yet repetitive knock that undulates your body back and forth. your sleep, lightly disturbed, but you decide to ignore it, subconsciously acknowledging it was too early to be awake. it happens again; something, or albeit, someone rocking softly side to side. your eyes scrunch - alright, you’re definitely awake now. with your back facing joe, you assume he’s gotten up to get a glass of water or to use the loo. but now, with your mind wide awake, you hear it - the melodic rhythm of quiet moans that escape the full lips of your boyfriend. you couldn’t believe your luck. slowly, you turn around as if you’re rousing from a dream and not perturbed by the fact that joe is ‘discreetly’ rubbing his erection with a lazy hand, under some dreamy impression that you don’t have any idea what he’s doing. “fucking h-“ joe exhales, accompanied with a sound of slick; you picture his hand, the palm of it covered in a mix of spit and precum, jutting up and down his hard cock. you think of the shine of rubies, synonymous with the colour of the head of his dick and the red of his lips, the bottom of which is being bitten, trapping shut any harsh breaths and filthy words so desperately trying to escape. smirking with your eyes close, you wrap an arm around the lower part of his hip, pelvis thrusting, you feel the rise and fall of his gut. the air is trapped there and fucking hell, joe is really trying his hardest now to not make it obvious that he’s seconds away from coming. “thinking of that cunt, fuck-please” and you feel your own slick start to pool between your legs. could you get away with squeezing your thighs together to get some relief? maybe? god, know knows…you’ve been here before, half asleep until joe is walking next to you without a second thought that it’s 3am. he’s shaking now, breathing uneven and stilted. this is when he starts gripping the swollen head of his cock, his other hand quickly grabbing at his balls and then reaching out to touch the softness of your body. “jesus, gonna c-cum”. your hand, which was still precariously laid atop his hip, starts to squeeze the bone there, and he knows - fuck, he knows you’re awake and within an instant, he gets up onto his knees, tossing the duvet off to expose your chest and with a few more jerks, he’s spilling his load all over your breasts. his release is loud and finite, like the pop of a balloon at a birthday party. joe is squeezing your left breast, pinching at the nipple when he finishes milking his cock. you hear him chuckle, “i know your were awake as soon as you turned over”. joe flops his body back down on the bed, neck to you and lowers his hand to your covered cunt, pulling the material to the side to push his index into the wet, “did you enjoy yourself, you little creep?”. you feel his smirk against your lips as he kisses you hastily. he knows you love hearing him with himself; the voyeurist in you completely satisfied with what has transpired. joe’s cum still adorns your skin, letting it settle there whilst he dip a finger into you, then two, then three, and then he kisses you again - so fucking hard - “let’s take care of this, shall we?”.

#joseph quinn #joe quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #joe quinn smut #joseph quinn rpf #joe quinn rpf #lol it's almost 11pm here in australia #christmas is tomorrow but really #this IS my christmas present #my writing

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yagrldariv · 2 years ago

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Husband! Henry Cavill x Doctor!Reader Headcanon

As request by anon. Hope you like! Send me feedback?

Pure fluff, no other warnings. Henry is such husband material.

If there was one thing Henry was, it was dedicated.

Whether it be books, a new role, gaming or even you.

Whenever there was something in front of him, he was learning everything he could to bring exactly what was needed.

When you first met, you were just about to start your residency.

You were in the bookstore, trying to find some light reading when you ran into him.

He spotted you before you had a chance to look his way.

You were in the section adjacent to him, head stuck in a book. Cue the cartoon rotating heart crown circling his head in that moment.

Your bottom lip was pulled between your teeth and your brows were furrowed, deeply engrossed in the text.

Normally Henry tries to be very respectful and leaves people alone, but everything in him was screaming to go talk to you.

“Sorry to bother, but is that seat occupied?” He pointed to the brown leather chair opposite you.

“No, it’s all yours”.

“Wonderful,” he sat, “best seat in the shop”.

The rest of the day you spent talking, books long forgotten.

That day in the bookstore, Henry decided he was going to marry you. He saw how passionate you were about medicine and helping people and it lit something in him.

For the rest of your break, you spent almost every day with him.

I just know before he’s halfway through the day he’s already planning where he’s taking you tomorrow.

The closer you got to your residency the worse you began to worry that your schedule would ruin what you had.

Henry was absolutely clear he would never feel like you were choosing your career instead of him.

Henry knew all too well what it meant to work hard for years towards a career that you loved.

He absolutely admired knowing he could share the feeling of working long grueling hours, putting absolutely everything into your work just to do it all the next day.

Once you moved in with him your last year he was so willing to take care of you wherever he could. (Which means literally everywhere)

He definitely is the type to pop by the hospital for your break and bring you a homemade meal (this is also a great excuse for him to you in your scrubs)

And pls when the time comes for you to take your boards-he’s so doting it’s insane.

He stays up late nights, with you while you study, index cards in hand as his quizzes you.

He runs countless cups of coffee back in forth from the kitchen.

And when you find out you passed, no one is happier than him (tbh not even you).

Two weeks later he proposes.

Henry honestly even sweeter as a husband. (If that’s possible)

He takes the title extremely seriously too let’s be real.

He’s so giddy when he finally got to introduce himself as your husband at the hospital Christmas party.

When you’re on call he never hesitates to take over and care for you.

I’m talking cooking you dinner, packing your lunches, getting up before you to make you coffee in the morning.

Also you can fight me on this but Henry is definitely the old school type to take your car for all the regular maintenance without you having to ask or remind him.

He always wanted to make sure you felt supported in your choices and that you wouldn’t have to juggle everything, you could just focus.

On bad days, he’s meeting you at the door with his signature bear hug.

He’s washing your hair in the shower, telling you how much you mean to him before tucking into bed with you in his arms.

And to Henry, at the end of the day, all that mattered was that you were extremely happy with your life. He was set for eternity by your side.

#henry cavill #henry cavill headcanon #henry cavill x reader #d writes #request #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill smut #husband!henrycavill

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twostepstyless · 2 years ago

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The H-Bomb

Fic Advent Calendar Day 12

Advent Calendar Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Author’s Note: Y/N is stuck in the queue for the post office while on the phone to Harry and considers a way to let her skip the queue

As always, likes, reblogs and feedback of all and any variety is greatly appreciated - G <3

Word Count: 1.1k

———

“H, this is bloody awful,” Y/N’s voice crackled down the phone. Harry had just called, the pair had left the house at the same time this morning and he was surpised to see Y/N wasn’t back when he was.

“Where are you?” Harry had the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he unclipped their dog Vinnie from his leash and began to towel dry his paws before Vinnie ran off to get some water.

“Still in the post office, the queue is mental H,” she sighed before adding quietly, so as no one around her heard what she whispered, “and I keep letting the little old people skip me so they can collect their pension.” Harry cackled down the phone at Y/N’s overly kind nature. “It’s jus’ cold Harry and they don’t need to be hanging about in queues all day,” she justified as she waved another old dear in front of her even if it meant she had been in the post office for nearing 20 minutes

“You just let another one skip, didn’t you?” she could hear Harry’s smile down the phone.

“…Yeah,” Y/N sighed at herself.

“Y/N/N, the oldies are going to start a club to take the piss out of your kindness, they must think you’ve got ‘mug’ written across y’forehead,” Harry laughed, as he pottered around in the kitchen, cleaning up their mess from breakfast.

“I can’t believe how busy it is in here,” Y/N finally moved forward a place in the queue, inching closer to the parcel sending service.

“It’s less than two weeks until Christmas, m’heart, of course it’s busy,” Harry had tried to gently urge her to post what she needed to send earlier but she never took notice of his coaxing.

“I know that. M’just looking for a little bit of sympathy,” Y/N had even given up on holding onto the bag that held the gifts she was sending to various family members who she wouldn’t see over the festive season, now just kicking it along the floor every time she crawled forward an inch in the monotonous queue, not even the tat they tried selling around the perimeter of the queue was keeping her entertained.

“Sorry baby, I’m fresh out of sympathy when I tried to get you to send everything last week,” Harry snickered.

“You’re an arsehole,” she pouted, no malice detected in her words, but the older lady she let cut her in line definitely looked over her shoulder, disapproving of Y/N’s language. “Y’know I procrastinate,” Y/N whined.

“I’m your arsehole though,” Harry tried to flirt.

“That’s not as romantic as y’think it sounds, my love,” Y/N giggled, this time managed to push the bag forward with her shoe at least 2 feet as the queue shuffled forward.

“D’you want me to come pick you up?” Harry asked, already reaching for a set of car keys, even if she said no, he’d still go get her, “it looks like it’s going to snow,” he peered out the kitchen window, seeing the sky swirl with heavy-looking white clouds.

“Please,” she begged, “I think my legs would give out before I walked home after standing here for so long,” the ticking of the big, oversized clock in the post office was starting to grate on her. “Will Vinnie be alright with you leaving him?” she asked after the dog.

“Me an’ him have just come back from a big walk round the park,” Harry went into the living room to check on the sleepy golden retriever, “the boy’s sparko, he’ll not even hear me leave,” Harry shoved his feet back in shoes he’d kicked off when he came home.

“Do you think if I drop an H-bomb, they’ll let me skip the queue?” Y/N asked, seriously.

“Sorry? Drop an ‘H-bomb,’ what the fuck is an H-bomb?” Harry questioned, pausing by the front door.

“If I say y’name, do you think they’ll let me skip?” she asked again, giggling.

“What?” Harry cackled, “have you done that before?”

There was a long pause on the other end of the call.

“Y/N!”

“It was one time, and I desperately needed the loo, I wasn’t a diva about it or anythin’ honest!” she giggled trying to explain the story, as she heard Harry laughing and muttering ‘unbelievable’ under his breath. “I just slipped it into conversation,” she finalised.

“Well for some reason, I don’t think the pensioners in the post office care much about an H-bomb, gorgeous,” Harry laughed.

“I don’t know, I reckon you’re a hit in the care homes.”

“Oh, hush, how far from the front are you? If I leave now, am I going to be waiting ages?” Harry questioned, trying to figure out in his head where he could park without getting a ticket for idling.

“Not far, should be done by the time you get here, I hope,” Y/N wasn’t miles off the front now and had picked up her bag of presents to hand to the post person when she got to the window.

“As long as y’don’t let old Wilma from 4 doors down skip you when she shuffles in,” Harry locked their front door and paused listening for any disgruntled barks from Vinnie before hearing nothing and making his way to the car.

“Exactly,” Y/N said, with a smile evident in her tone.

“Do hurry, there’s another package waiting for you here,” Harry said with a suggestive lilt in his voice.

“Oooh, what is it?” Y/N queried, missing the undertone to his comment.

“I’d tell you, but you’ll need to find it, it’s in m’pants,” Harry said, straight to the point, sliding his key into the ignition, foot on the clutch to start the engine.

“Harry Styles! That is vile,” she laughed loudly before slapping a hand over her mouth, realising what she had said.

“That’ll be the H-bomb dropped then,” Harry snorted, putting his phone on speaker so he could put it down to start his drive.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, it slipped out,” Y/N said nervously as she saw some eyes turn to look at her. “Oh my god, Harry, they’ve opened another window and they’re waving me forward to go first, shit, that’s so fucking embarrassing,” she whispered-yelled down the phone as she could hear Harry’s tittering laugh come down the phone.

“Well, m’glad you got some benefit out of the H-bomb,” he chuckled, “I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?”

“Fuck off, that’s so embarrassing. Right, oh my god I need to go before I make it worse, see you in a second, gorgeous,” Y/N sighed hanging up the phone before sorting out her face to talk to the person behind the glass.

“Hi, I’d like to send these first class, please.”

———

Advent Calendar Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x you #harry styles one shot #one direction fanfiction #one direction #harry styles oneshot #harry imagine #twostepstyless advent calendar #harry styles christmas #harry styles comfort

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