#i’m really happy answering this questions | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

xomakara · 23 hours ago

Text

Love Again

SUMMARY | You're a lonely single mother sleeping with your coworker, Yunho, who is also a lonely single dad, for the past few months. One night, after a passionate moment, Yunho suggests that maybe it's time for your daughter and his daughter to finally meet.

PAIRINGS | Yunho x Reader

RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+, Any Minors and Ageless Blogs will be blocked

GENRE | smut, fluff, singledad!Yunho, singlemom!reader, blended family

CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), slight dirty talk, praising, vaginal penetration, lovemaking

LENGTH | 6,128 words

TAGLIST | ---

NETWORKS | @illusionnet @cromernet @k-vanity @ksmutsociety @othersideoutlawsnetwork

AUTHOR’S NOTE | another dadteez fic but with singledad!Yunho and singlemom!reader this time around.

The moonlight spilled through the crack in your curtains, casting a silver glow across the bed where you lay tangled with Yunho. His arm was draped possessively over your waist, his breath warm against your neck as he slept soundly. You should have been exhausted too, after the way his hands and lips had mapped every inch of your body just moments ago, but sleep eluded you. Instead, your mind buzzed with the remnants of their shared passion and the weight of something unspoken that lingered between them.

Yunho stirred beside you, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your hip. He murmured something incoherent, his voice thick with drowsiness, before his eyes fluttered open. He blinked a few times, clearly still half-asleep, but when his gaze settled on you, it softened with an affection that made your chest ache.

"Hey," he whispered, nuzzling closer to you. "Couldn’t sleep?"

You turned to face him, brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes. "Not really."

He propped himself up on one elbow, studying you with those piercing eyes of his. The dim light caught the faint stubble on his jaw, and you couldn’t resist reaching up to stroke it. His skin was rough under your fingertips, a stark contrast to the tenderness in his expression.

"What’s on your mind?" he asked, his voice low and gravelly.

You hesitated, unsure how to articulate the mix of worry and desire swirling inside you. It had been months since you two started this… arrangement. Late nights at work turning into even later nights at his place or yours. No labels, no promises, just raw, undeniable chemistry that neither of you could ignore. But now, lying here in the quiet aftermath of their heated encounter, you couldn’t shake the feeling that things were shifting.

"I don’t know," you finally admitted. "Maybe… maybe I’m just thinking about how much has changed in such a short time."

Yunho watched you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "It has," he agreed softly. "But not all change is bad, right?"

You nodded slowly, though his answer did little to ease the knot of anxiety in your stomach. He seemed to sense your unease because he shifted closer, wrapping both arms around you and pulling you flush against his chest. His heart thumped steadily beneath your ear, a rhythmic reassurance that grounded you somehow.

"Hey," he said again, tilting your chin up so he could meet your gaze. "Are you happy with me?"

The question caught you off guard, but the sincerity in his eyes stopped any glib response from forming on your lips. "Yes," you said honestly, your voice trembling slightly. "I am."

You swallowed hard, torn between relief and the creeping realization that this conversation was headed somewhere serious—a place you weren’t sure you were ready to go. Before you could say anything, Yunho pulled back slightly, resting his head against the pillow and staring at the ceiling.

"We’ve been doing this for a while now," he began, his voice careful, measured. "Meeting up late, sneaking around… I think we’ve done enough sneaking."

Your stomach dropped at his words, a mixture of fear and anticipation churning inside you. Was he ending it? Was this the end of whatever this was between the two of you?

"What are you saying?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Yunho turned to look at you again, his eyes searching yours for something intangible. "I’m saying… maybe it’s time for our daughters to meet."

The room fell silent, save for the faint hum of the air conditioner and the steady rhythm of your breathing. You stared at him, your mind racing as his suggestion sank in. Our daughters. The casual use of the word sent a shiver down your spine. This wasn’t just about the two of you anymore—it was about your families, your daughters' lives colliding in ways you hadn’t dared to imagine.

"You’re serious," you said finally, though it wasn’t really a question.

He nodded, his expression completely serious now. "I am. I think they’d get along. And..." He paused, his grip tightening around you. "And if you’re okay with it, maybe we could… I don’t know, do this properly?"

Properly.

The word hung heavy in the air between you both, laden with implications that made your heart race. Proper means commitment, structure, and a future. It meant stepping out of the shadows and into the light, embracing something real and tangible. But it also meant vulnerability, exposing yourselves—and your daughters—to the possibility of heartbreak.

"Yunho…" you started, your voice trailing off as you struggled to form coherent thoughts.

"I know it’s a lot," he cut in quickly, sensing your hesitation. "And I get it if you’re not ready. But I just… I feel like we’re worth taking that risk."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, leaving you breathless and emotional. Were you worth it? The question echoed in your mind, challenging your deepest fears and insecurities. Could you trust him, trust this fragile connection you both had built? Or would diving deeper only lead to more pain in the end?

Before you could respond, Yunho leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. It wasn’t frantic or urgent like your earlier encounters; it was slow, deliberate, filled with unspoken promises and emotions you weren’t ready to unpack yet. When he pulled back, his eyes were soft, pleading.

"Think about it," he whispered, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "Just… think about it."

You nodded weakly, unable to muster any coherent words.

"Come on," he said gently, tugging you closer. "Let’s get some sleep. We can talk more tomorrow."

But sleep was impossible now. As Yunho drifted back into slumber, his arms securely wrapped around you, your mind refused to quiet. The weight of his proposal pressed down on you, stirring up emotions you didn’t have the energy to fully explore.

What would you say? The thought lingered as you stared at the ceiling, your fingers absently tracing the curve of his bicep. This wasn’t just about you and Yunho anymore—it was about the lives you’d created, the futures you’d built. And if you took that leap, there was no going back.

"Kiss me again," you murmured suddenly, surprising even yourself with the request.

Yunho’s eyes fluttered open, confusion flickering across his face before it melted into understanding. He chuckled softly, the sound rumbling in his chest. "You always know how to keep me on my toes."

Before he could move, you surged forward, capturing his lips in a desperate, hungry kiss. You needed to feel him, to lose yourself in the heat of his touch, if only for a moment. Your hands clawed at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you pressed your body against his.

"Is this your way of telling me yes?" he teased between kisses, his voice laced with amusement and lust.

You pulled back just enough to glare at him, though the effect was ruined by the flush creeping up your cheeks. "Shut up and kiss me," you ordered, punctuating your demand with another searing kiss.

Yunho complied without hesitation, his hands roving down your sides as his lips devoured yours. The world outside dissolved into nothingness, leaving only the two of you locked in a passionate embrace. It was reckless and impulsive, exactly what you needed to distract yourself from the gravity of his proposal.

But deep down, you knew this wouldn’t last forever. Sooner or later, you’d have to face the reality of his words, the choice you’d have to make. For now, though, you let yourself sink into the moment, reveling in the way his body felt against yours, the way his lips moved against your own.

"Tell me what you want," Yunho whispered against your ear, his breath hot and tantalizing. "I'll give it to you."

"I just want this," you said, a sudden wave of emotion swelling up inside you. "I just want you, Yunho."

He looked down at you, his gaze tender and almost achingly affectionate. Then he cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing along your jawline. "You have me," he murmured, leaning in to brush his lips against yours. "You have all of me."

Your heart swelled in your chest as he deepened the kiss, losing himself in the feel of his mouth against yours and his hands caressing your body. No, the choice would come soon enough, but in this moment, he was yours. And right now, that was all that mattered.

Yunho hovered above, his fingers entangled with yours on either side of your head. With each movement, the mattress beneath you shuddered.

"Say my name," he panted, his forehead glistening with sweat.

He slid in and out, filling you perfectly with every stroke. Each time, he touched a sensitive spot, the one that made your stomach clench. A tiny noise escaped your lips, breathy, low, desperate.

"Y- Yunho," you managed.

He plunged deeper, bringing the sensations of your body even closer together. Everything else seemed so far away: the room around you, the world. The only thing that mattered was the feeling of him moving against you, bringing you to that blissful edge.

"That's it," he breathed, leaning down to trace the tip of his tongue up the column of your neck. "Say it again."

"Oh god, Yunho," you sighed as you rocked your hips to meet his thrusts.

A delicious smirk stretched his face as he captured your lips for a fleeting moment. He drove faster and deeper, the sounds of flesh against flesh filling the quiet room. His strong hands gripped your waist and his cock nudged your innermost barrier as a cry escaped you.

"Again."

You fisted the sheets above your head, desperately clinging to any sense of control. He slammed his hips into you, reaching further inside. "Oh God," you moaned, overwhelmed.

"Not quite." He moved faster, his pace erratic as he chased his climax.

"Oh, Yunho," you finally gasped, giving in to the white heat that surged through your entire being.

Your toes curled and you squeezed him tight as an explosive rush rushed through you.

"That's my good girl." A long moan escaped him as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. "You are a good girl, aren't you?"

A warmth spread through your abdomen as Yunho's orgasm rolled over him in slow waves. Your fingers slid through his hair, cradling his head. "The best girl."

The next morning, you wake up to the faint sound of birds chirping outside your window. The sunlight filters through the blinds, casting a warm glow across the room. Yunho is still asleep beside you, his breathing steady and calm.

Damn, you needed him again. Last night wasn't enough. The sun was barely peeking through the thick clouds, and you already needed more of his body heat and musky, earthy scent to start the day off. His weight felt warm, familiar and comforting.

He stirred, rolling onto his side and tugging your body into his. A slow, content smile spread across his handsome face when his eyes met yours, and your heart fluttered at the sight of his sleep-tousled hair and half-lidded gaze.

"Morning," you hummed.

"G'morning, beautiful,” he sighed.

You reached out, running your fingers through his messy hair, and his dark eyes fluttered closed, his expression relaxed and peaceful. A sense of longing filled your chest. What would it be like to wake up like this every day?

"What are you thinking about?" He asked, sensing the shift in your mood.

You paused, hesitating before replying, "Just... thinking about everything that's happened in the past few months. How we've grown closer, gotten to know each other better."

He raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"I guess...I'm afraid of losing this. Us,” you said softly.

He glanced down, running his thumb along your bottom lip. "You don't have to be afraid. I'm not going anywhere."

It wasn't fair how he always knew the right things to say and just the right way to hold you. How did he manage to be both perfect and imperfect simultaneously?

"What are you thinking?" You murmured back.

A hint of a smile played across Yunho's face. "I'm thinking about how much I enjoy spending time with you. How much happier you make me. How much I want this to work, so we never have to let go."

His words settled into your heart. They felt true, but they scared you nonetheless.

"But what happens if we screw this up?" you asked.

His lips quirked into a crooked smile. "We won't. Because we want the same thing, remember? To give this a real shot."

"You're right," you breathed.

As Yunho wrapped an arm around you, you realized he had been right the whole time. There was no way to predict the future, to see where this might end up. All that was left was to trust each other, to follow your instincts and hope it was enough. And right now, nestled securely against him, that sounded like a pretty damn good plan.

With his sturdy chest as your pillow, you closed your eyes, savoring his presence. Whatever happened next, you'd handle it together.

Yunho tilted your chin, forcing you to look directly into those chocolate pools. "So?"

His unvoiced question hung in the air, heavy and hopeful. But before you could answer, he kissed you then, his hand moving to cradle your face as his lips slid against yours, your hips rolling lazily toward his. Your hands grasped his toned chest, moving down his body until you found what you wanted.

He let out a muffled sound, his breath hitching, before breaking the kiss to catch his breath. "Really? In the morning?"

Your fingers moved further down to stroke him, eliciting a low moan from him. "Don't complain."

He smirked, shaking his head, but it was quickly replaced with a gasp as he grew rock solid in your palm. You grinned at him and pushed him onto his back, moving to straddle him. His lips curved into a devilish smirk, but there was something soft, affectionate in his gaze as he reached to palm your breasts and fondle your nipples between his fingers.

His fingers stroked and kneaded at your nipple until it was sensitive. Your body hummed with pleasure, aching for him. You grinded against his bare thigh, earning a groan as he bit his lower lip and bucked up against your body.

He groaned loudly as he took control and flipped you onto your back, slipping inside. With each thrust, his length dragged out before plunging back into you, bringing forth little waves of bliss that threatened to swallow you whole.

"I can't get enough of you. Never will," he growled into your ear before nibbling your earlobe. His lips crashed down onto your parted ones. His tongue danced against yours, dominating the kiss. The sensation was exquisite, lighting up your nerves until they sang.

"O- oh god, Yunho," you sighed against his mouth as your fingernails scratched along the expanse of his toned back.

He thrusted again, harder, pushing further, stretching, making you cry out. The sound died out, swallowed by his hungry lips. Then another, another, until he was pounding into you, deep and rhythmic and insistent. Your heels dug into the backs of his muscular thighs, urging him deeper and deeper and deeper still. He let loose a shaky breath, panting.

"Do you like this?" Yunho panted against your lips. "This big dick deep inside you, filling you up and fucking you raw? I want to watch you cum, baby, and I won't stop until your pussy is nice and full."

You gasped, and his movements became even more frenzied, hips pistoning. He pressed his lips back to yours, kissing and nipping and licking. Your toes began curling into the mattress beneath. An overwhelming heat began swirling inside you, turning you molten. Your pleasure crested in waves, breaking and crashing around his cock.

"Fuck, yes, there's a good girl. That's my good girl," he drawled into the shell of your ear, voice wrecked. He rubbed the pad of his thumb across your wet, swollen clit in firm circles, edging you closer and closer to release. "Come for me, baby, let go. I've got you, I've always got you."

As if commanded by his words alone, your climax roared through you, leaving you trembling in its wake. The aftershocks kept your breath shallow, but you managed a contented sigh when Yunho gathered you tightly in his arms.

The two of you lay like that for some time: arms wrapped securely around each other; legs entangled and his fingers still lazily stroking your overheated flesh. The silence of the room was soothing, broken only by the soft ticking of the clock on your bedside table.

Finally, you poke. "Yunho... I think it might be worth it if the girls met."

His hand stills, his voice tinged with cautious optimism when he spoke, "Yeah?"

You look into his deep brown eyes and nod. He releases a shaky sigh, a beautiful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he closes his eyes and presses a delicate kiss to the tip of your nose. When his eyelids lift to reveal those big, expressive pools of chocolate, he whispers against the skin of your forehead, "I'll try anything as long as it means having more of you."

His thumb brushes against your cheek gently and tenderly as he locks gazes with yours. Those intense brown orbs look directly into yours and then his lips cover yours in a feather-soft embrace. The kiss is just as meaningful as it is brief, a promise for the future.

"We could finally spend quality time as families. Let the girls play. Have fun," you whispered, enjoying the warmth from his closeness.

"And maybe go on proper dates," he added with an air of hopeful excitement. "I'm sure one of our mutual friends can watch the girls for a few hours. They all have kids so I'm sure our girls will be fine."

"Can you imagine Jongho's girls and our girls playing together? I'm not sure about Yunhee but I can already see Sera tag-teaming with the Choi girls and causing chaos," you giggled.

He chucked deeply at that. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

"So are we doing this?" you asked.

His eyes softened. "Definitely," he promised, a tiny, lop-sided smile quirking the edge of his lips. "After today, things are going to be different. For the better."

Later that afternoon, you drive to Yunho’s house with your daughter in the backseat. She chatters excitedly about the playdate, her bright eyes shining with anticipation.

“Is she nice?” she asks for the hundredth time, twisting around in her seat to look at you.

“Of course she’s nice,” you reply, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. “She loves to draw and read, just like you.”

Your daughter claps her hands together, grinning wide. “That sounds so fun! Can we draw together?”

You smile, nodding. “Of course.”

When you pull into the driveway, Yunho is waiting outside with Yunhee. Your heart skips a beat at the sight of him, standing tall and confident in jeans and a fitted black t-shirt that shows off his broad shoulders. Beside him, Yunhee stands excitedly as she bounces on her heels, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders.

“Hi,” your daughter calls out, jumping out of the car and running toward them. “I’m Sera!”

Yunhee hesitates for a moment before stepping forward, her voice friendly. “Hi, Sera. I’m Yunhee.”

You watch as the two girls exchange shy glances, suddenly unsure of how to proceed. Yunho steps forward, crouching down to their level. “Why don’t you two go inside and get to know each other? Maybe you can show Sera your drawings.”

Yunhee’s eyes light up at the suggestion, and she takes Sera’s hand without hesitation. “Okay! Come on, I’ll show you my sketchbook.”

As they disappear into the house, you feel a lump rise in your throat. They could really be good friends, you think, watching their retreating figures. Yunho stands and brushes his hands off, a proud smile on his face.

“See?” he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I told you it’d be fine.”

You lean into him, sighing softly. “Yeah. You were right.”

He chuckles, his fingers tracing a path down your arm. “Come on, let’s give them some space. We deserve a little peace and quiet, don’t we?”

You follow him inside, your heart fluttering as he leads you toward the living room. The house is warm and welcoming, filled with the scent of freshly brewed coffee. Yunho grabs two mugs from the counter and hands one to you, his gaze never leaving yours.

“So,” he says, lowering himself onto the couch and pulling you down beside him. “How are you feeling about all this?”

You take a sip of your coffee, savoring the rich flavor. “I’m… cautiously optimistic, I guess. It’s a lot, but I think it could work.”

He nods, his expression thoughtful. “I understand why you’d be nervous. But I want you to know… I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t think we could make it work. For all of us.”

You meet his gaze, your cheeks warming under his intense stare. “Thank you, Yunho. For trusting me enough to try this.”

Yunho’s smile widens, his happiness radiating through the room like a warm glow. His fingers brush against yours, sending a small jolt of electricity up your arm.

“You have no idea how much this means to me,” he says softly, his voice tinged with sincerity. “Seeing you and Sera here… it feels right. Like everything is finally falling into place.”

“I think I feel the same way,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. You can’t help but smile back at him, your heart swelling with affection. The weight of the moment settles between you, heavy and hopeful.

He shifts closer, his arm draping over your shoulders as he pulls you into a gentle embrace. You rest your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It’s calming, grounding, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you let yourself believe that this—all of this—could be real.

“We’re going to make this work,” Yunho murmurs, his lips brushing against the top of your head. “For them, and for us.”

You nod, feeling a sense of resolve settle within you. “Yes,” you say firmly. “We will.”

The sound of laughter echoes from the other room, drawing your attention. You glance toward the hallway, where Sera and Yunhee are now sitting cross-legged on the floor, flipping through a sketchbook together. Their giggles are infectious, and you find yourself smiling even wider.

“They’re already getting along,” Yunho observes, his tone filled with pride. “See? This was the right decision.”

You lean into him again, letting the warmth of his presence soothe any lingering doubts. “It really was,” you agree. “And I’m glad we took this step.”

Yunho kisses the side of your forehead, his touch tender and reassuring. “Me too,” he says, his voice low and intimate. “More than you know.”

The amusement park looms ahead, a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds that sends a thrill through both you and Yunho. The anticipation is palpable as you load the girls into the car, Sera bouncing in her seat with excitement while Yunhee sits quietly, her eyes wide with curiosity.

“Are we there yet?” Sera asks for what feels like the hundredth time, her voice laced with an eagerness that makes your heart swell.

Yunho glances at you from the driver’s seat, a smile tugging at his lips. “Almost,” he says, his deep voice resonating with reassurance. “Just a few more minutes.”

You reach over to squeeze his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. It’s a small gesture, but it speaks volumes about the bond you’re building together. This outing isn’t just about the girls—it’s about testing the waters of this new family dynamic, seeing how you all fit together in the chaos of laughter and rides.

When you finally arrive, the park is alive with energy. The air hums with the chatter of families, the distant whir of roller coasters, and the occasional burst of music from a nearby stage. Sera practically leaps out of the car before Yunho has even turned off the engine, her excitement contagious. Yunhee follows with the same excitement although more cautiously, taking in the scene with a reserved curiosity.

“Alright, team,” Yunho says, rounding the car to join you. His tone is playful, but there’s an underlying seriousness to his words. “Let’s make today unforgettable.”

You nod, feeling a flutter of nerves mixed with hope. Unforgettable. That’s exactly what this day could be, if everything goes right. But you know better than to expect perfection. Life rarely unfolds according to plan, especially when kids are involved.

As you navigate through the park, Sera quickly latches onto Yunhee, both girls chattering excitedly about which rides or games to play first. They head straight for the carousel, giggling as they choose their horses. You and Yunho trail behind, keeping an eye on them while stealing moments of conversation between yourselves.

“They seem to be getting along well,” you say, your voice soft but tinged with cautious optimism.

Yunho glances down at you, his dark eyes softening. “They really do,” he agrees. “It’s amazing to see.”

You fall quiet for a moment, watching the girls as they laugh and wave from atop their colorful steeds. There’s something almost magical about the way they interact, as though they’ve been friends their entire lives. It’s a sight that fills you with a profound sense of gratitude—and perhaps a little bit of fear. What if this doesn’t last? What if something disrupts this fragile harmony?

Before you can dwell on those thoughts, Sera tugs on your sleeve. “Mommy! Can we go on the big roller coaster now? Please?”

Her eyes sparkle with pleading, and you feel a pang of reluctance. The ride looks intense, even for adults. But before you can answer, Yunho interjects.

“I’ll take them,” he says decisively, his voice brooking no argument. “You stay here, relax for a bit. I’ve got this.”

You open your mouth to protest, but he cuts you off with a gentle touch to your cheek. “Trust me,” he murmurs, his gaze steady and reassuring. “We’ll be fine.”

Reluctantly, you nod, watching as he takes Sera’s hand and leads both girls toward the towering structure. The line is long, snaking around the perimeter of the ride, but Sera chatters away nonstop, clearly unbothered by the wait. Yunhee, on the other hand, looks up at the coaster with a mix of awe and trepidation.

You find a bench near the entrance and sit down, trying to calm your racing thoughts. The sun beats down on your shoulders, warming you despite the anxiety knotting your stomach. You glance at your phone, scrolling through messages that can’t hold your attention. All you can think about is the three people currently braving the roller coaster without you.

Minutes tick by, each one dragging on longer than the last. Just as you’re about to get up and check on them, a familiar trio emerges from the crowd. Sera is beaming, announcing to anyone who will listen that she wants to go again. Yunhee, however, looks pale and shaken.

Yunho spots you immediately, his expression shifting to one of concern as he approaches.

“Yunhee didn’t enjoy it as much as Sera did,” he admits, his voice low and apologetic. “She’s feeling a bit queasy.”

You rise from the bench, brushing past him to kneel in front of Yunhee.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you say softly, reaching out to gently smooth her hair. “Are you okay? Do you need some water or maybe a break?”

Yunhee nods silently, her large eyes glassy with unshed tears. You exchange a worried glance with Yunho, knowing this wasn’t part of the plan. But plans, as you’ve learned, are often made to be broken.

“Let’s find somewhere quiet for her to rest,” you suggest, standing up and offering your hand to Yunhee. “We can still have fun, just at a slower pace.”

Yunho hesitates, glancing back at Sera, who is already scanning the area for the next attraction.

“Give us a minute,” he tells you, crouching down to speak directly to Yunhee. “Do you want to tell Sera why you don’t feel well? She should hear it from you.”

Yunhee hesitates, then nods slowly. Taking a deep breath, she turns to Sera, who is waiting eagerly for her response. “I… I don’t feel so good right now,” she says softly. “Can we take a break?”

Sera’s face falls, but she nods understandingly. “Of course! We can still play games or something, right?”

Yunhee manages a small smile, and you feel a rush of relief. It’s a small victory, but it’s enough to remind you that not every moment needs to be perfect. Sometimes, it’s the unexpected challenges that bring you closer together.

As you lead the group toward a quieter area of the park, Yunho slips his hand into yours. His grip is firm, grounding, and you let yourself lean into the contact, finding comfort in his presence.

“We’ll figure it out,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “One step at a time.”

You look up at him, your heart swelling with something akin to hope. Yes, you think.

One step at a time.

It's been a few months since the girls have met each other and hit it off. The four of you are at a park and the air is thick with laughter and the distant hum of music, but in this quieter corner of the park, it feels like the world has momentarily paused. Yunhee sits cross-legged on a blanket, her sketchpad open in front of her, while Sera chatters excitedly about all the cute pets she saw. Yunho stands nearby, his arms crossed, watching the girls with a soft smile. His presence is steady, grounding, as if he’s already woven himself into the fabric of your lives.

You lean back against the picnic table, letting the warmth of the day seep into your skin. Your hand brushes against Yunho’s, and you feel the familiar spark that never fails to ignite between you. His touch. It’s always been more than physical for you—a reminder of the deeper connection you’ve both been reluctant to name. But today, something feels different. Sharper. More urgent.

“We should talk,” you say softly, your voice barely audible over Sera’s animated storytelling.

Yunho turns to you, his dark eyes searching your face.

“About what?” he asks, though you can see the answer flickering in his gaze.

Us.

The word hovers unspoken, heavy with meaning. You swallow hard, suddenly unsure of how to articulate the tangle of emotions churning inside you. The fear. The hope. The inexplicable desire to let him in completely.

“The future,” you manage at last, your voice trembling slightly. “Ours.”

He doesn’t speak immediately, and for a moment, the only sound is the rustle of leaves overhead and the faint laughter of other park goers. Then, slowly, he steps closer, his hands settling on your shoulders. The warmth of his touch spreads through you, steadying you even as it sends your pulse racing.

“I’ve been thinking about that too,” he admits, his voice low and rough. “Every time I look at you, every time I see the way Sera smiles when she’s with Yunhee… or how Yunhee looks so much happier with you two around, it’s like everything I didn’t realize I wanted is right here. In front of me.”

His confession hangs in the air between you, raw and unfiltered. You meet his gaze, and for the first time, you let yourself truly see him—not just as the man you’ve been sleeping with, not just as the father of the sweet girl sitting on the blanket, but as someone who feels as deeply as you do. Someone who’s scared. Someone who’s hopeful. Someone who wants you.

“I love you,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself, the words breaking free like a dam giving way. “I know it’s fast, and I know it’s scary, but I can’t pretend anymore. Not with you.”

Yunho’s breath hitches, and for a moment, he says nothing. His hands tighten on your shoulders, his thumbs brushing lightly against your collarbone. Then, slowly, he leans down, his forehead resting against yours.

“I love you too,” he whispers, his voice choked with emotion. “More than I ever thought I could love anyone.”

The intensity of his words stirs something deep within you, something primal and undeniable. You rise to your toes, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that’s equal parts reassurance and desperation. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close, and you sink into the embrace, feeling the thrum of his heartbeat against your chest.

When the kiss breaks at last, Yunho rests his forehead against yours again, his breathing heavy. You stay there, wrapped up in each other, lost in the moment.

“Mommy?” Sera’s voice interrupts the moment, and you pull away quickly, flushing as you turn to see both girls staring at you with wide eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, sweetheart,” you say quickly, smoothing your hair and trying to regain some semblance of composure. “Just… grown-up stuff.”

Yunhee looks between you and her father, her expression thoughtful. “Are you guys… getting married?” she asks quietly.

The question catches you off guard, and you glance at Yunho, unsure of how to respond. He meets your gaze, his eyes filled with the same mix of uncertainty and hope that you feel.

“Maybe,” he says finally, his voice steady despite the weight of the word. “If that’s what we all want."

"Do you love my mommy?" Sera asks him earnestly.

Yunho doesn't miss a beat. "Yes," he answers, his voice filled with warmth. "Very much."

"Do you love my daddy?" Yunhee echoes, directing the same question to you.

You turn to the serious-looking little girl with eyes wide open and shining like jewels. "I do. Very, very much," you say honestly.

Yunho looks at his little girl. "What do you say, Yunhee? Are you okay with this?"

Yunhee smiles sweetly, her cheeks flushing with color. "I'm happy if you're happy, daddy. And if it makes Sera my best friend for real, that would be great."

"What do you think, Sera?" You asked your daughter.

"Yes! Yes!" Your daughter yells jumping up and down and running to hug you tightly. "Yunhee we can be sisters and best friends now!"

At your daughter's announcement, you look up into the kind eyes of Yunho, who is watching you with an amused smile. "Seems like our little ones are getting ahead of themselves," he teases. "But I'm willing to follow their lead... if that's alright with you."

You look around at the two little girls beaming with excitement and the man who is slowly carving his way into your heart and it feels like everything is exactly where it should be.

"More than okay," you murmur as you slide your hands up the length of his chest, wrap them around the back of his neck, and draw him in for another kiss. "More than I can say."

Sera’s face lights up, and she latches onto your arm. “Can we get matching dresses? And go on a honeymoon? And have a big cake with candles?”

You laugh despite the sudden tightness in your throat, reaching out to tousle her hair. “Slow down, kiddo. We haven’t even talked about any of that yet.”

But even as you say the words, you can’t help but imagine it—the four of you, laughing and arguing over wedding plans, building a life together from the ground up. The idea is both terrifying and exhilarating, a risk you’re starting to think might be worth taking.

Yunho steps closer, his hand sliding into yours. “One step at a time,” he murmurs, echoing his earlier words. “But maybe… maybe this time, we take bigger steps. Together.”

You nod, your heart swelling with the possibility of it all. Somewhere behind you, Sera is still chattering enthusiastically about flower girl dresses, while Yunhee continues to sketch quietly, her face tilted upward to catch the sunlight. It’s imperfect, messy, and real—everything a family should be.

And for the first time in a long time, you feel like maybe, just maybe, you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.

#illusionnet #cromernet #kvanity #ksmutsociety #other side outlaws network #ateez #ateez stories #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfics #ateez yunho #ateez smut #jeong yunho #yunho #yunho smut #yunho x reader #dad yunho

110 notes · View notes

dekariosclan · 9 hours ago

Note

This is a mature/18+ ask, so I’m sorry in advance!

But how would do you think Gale would approach a lover who is more vanilla? Since Gale is probably one of the biggest freaks among the companions, do you think he’d get bored with a not kinky tav?

Anon, do not apologize for this wonderful ask! This is the perfect question to follow the last ask I answered, because it shows what a wide variety of Galemancers exist in this community.

This question is one after my own heart, because I myself tend to lean more on the vanilla side of things (my first Bg3 playthrough I chose the ‘bed’ romance with Gale because the astral option had me yelling “ARE YOU NAKED IN THE SKY RIGHT NOW?! 😳 CAN EVERYONE IN BALDURS GATE SEE THIS?! OHGODSOHNO—”)

I was never so happy to see a huge bed in a field after that LOL

Now, to your question:

slightly 18+ answer under the cut

I really believe Gale would be exceptionally happy with a vanilla lover. Even though he enjoys physical exploration and experimentation with his partner, the thing he cares most about is the loving bond he shares with them.

And that is 100% on a spiritual and emotional level, not a physical one.

It is actual canon that Gale will still love and want to be with Tav even if he cannot touch them. This is shown in Karlach’s Act 2 romance scene with Gale, if it happens before she has her engine fixed:

So, a vanilla romance? Where Gale CAN touch and embrace and kiss his lover? Where he can murmur sweet declarations of love into their ear as he slowly brings them both to climax?! Gale would be over the moon.

To prove this to you, I have analyzed Gale’s romance interactions closely (watched multiple YouTube clips) with a team of scientists (myself and my elderly cat) to show you the exact moments during lovemaking that are of the utmost importance to him. Are you ready? Be sure to look close so you don’t miss it:

It’s this:

And this:

That’s it.

It’s Gale getting to gaze into his beloved’s eyes, to feel their touch on his skin, to know that they love him just as much as he loves them.

That’s all he needs and wants.

And he will never, never, never get bored of that.

#gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #baldur's gate 3 #gale x tav #bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 #galemancer #answered ask

114 notes · View notes

natashaslesbian · 7 hours ago

Text

Happy House | NR | I

Summary: Natasha suspects something is seriously wrong when you suddenly hand in your notice as a S.H.I.E.L.D agent

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings/Content: Domestic Abuse / Verbal Abuse / Physical Abuse / Violence / Sexual Assault / Rape

—————————————————————————

“Sorry to interrupt Director Fury, Hill said I should pass this on to you myself” you said as you snuck around the door to Nick’s office, surprised to see another agent with him. “What is it?” He said “My resignation sir” you answered, not missing the glance from the redhead at Nicks side “I’m sorry to hear that Miss Y/L/N, we will miss you in the offices” Fury sighed with full authenticity “Thank you Sir, I will work my weeks notice with the most attention” you spoke through small shakes. “Well I wish you all the best” Nick rose from his chair to shake your hand “Thank you Sir, Agent Romanoff, apologies for the interruption” you nodded to the agent and director “Not at all” you heard behind you as you closed the door. “What was that?” Natasha said the second the door was shut “what was what?” Nick questioned “you’re just gonna let her leave?” The redhead exclaimed “she’s handed in a resignation Romanoff, there’s nothing I can do” Nick said “she’s your best office agent! I mean her reports are superior not to mention her tech skills!” Natasha pleaded “Well I didn’t know you took such interest in every member of the office Nat” Nick teased with a suspecting look “shut up” Nat said as she smacked him lightly in the arm, also giggling.

You trudged home through the snow that night, having given up on your boyfriends lift home. There were no lights on, visibly from the outside of your small apartment, you hoped that Dylan would be sleeping. You crept in quietly, shaking off as much snow from your boots as you could. Walking silently through the hall you came to the living area, a sudden overhead light alerting you to someone’s presence “where have you been?” Dylan said, slurring his words “baby you scared me” you smiled, hoping to defuse the tension. “I said, where have you been?” Your boyfriend said again, rising to his feet on shaky legs “you said your shift finished at 4:30, and what time is it now?” Dylan asked “it’s 6, but you see I had to stay late there was so much to do and I-“ you began to mumble before Dylan cut you off “oh shut up!” He screamed as he launched his beer can towards your head. You managed to doge it at the last second “if I find out that you’ve been with that Romanoff, I’ll kill her, then you’ll realise what happens to bad little girls” your boyfriend raged as he closed the Space between you both. “No baby, I wasn’t” you mumbled, feeling the cold wall against your back “she doesn’t even know my name, but you know I did give in my resignation, just like you asked” you could smell the alcohol on Dylan’s breath as he leaned in to give you a harsh kiss. “Good girl” he grumbled “now why don’t you get dinner started, I’m starving” he finished as he finally backed away.

“Natasha come on” Clint groaned “you said you’d be done with the report by now” he said. “I am done with the report” Nat said, her eyes still glued to her laptop. “So what are you doing?” Clint asked, “I’m just… looking into some of our agents” the redhead said. Clint came to his best friends side hovering over her shoulders “and why would you be doing that?” He asked. Natasha paused for a moment, debating if she should tell Clint the real reason she was looking over your file. “There’s this girl, from the offices downstairs, and something just seems off” the redhead said. “How do you mean?” Clint said with intrigue. “She’s been with shield for 5 years and last week she handed in her resignation. I’ve only spoken to her a few times but she seems so dedicated like she really loves it here. She’s never had a sick day she’s always in early but in the last few months somethings changed.” Natasha explained. “How so?” Clint asked. “She’s sheepish, tired, frail. She’s different” Natasha said, keeping some of the information from her own eyes to herself. “So what are you thinking” Clint asked as he eyed the laptop screen. Nat pointed towards your relation details “she updated her profile 6 months ago, added some boyfriend as her emergency contact” the widow said. “It’s the only noticeable change along with her personality” she finished. “You think there’s something wrong?” Clint said. “Maybe” Nat sighed.

You were backed into your bedroom as Dylan walked towards you. “I told you, you’re not going out tonight” he said as he continued to stomp at you. “I got tonight off work so we could be together” he said, faux sweetness in his voice. “I know” you whispered “but my friends they wanted to throw me a leaving party” you said. “What friends?” Dylan asked as he took hold of your shoulders. “My work friends” you whimpered as his grip tightened. “Romanoff?” Dylan shouted as he twisted in his stance and threw you against the bedroom wall “I thought I told you what would happen if you went mingling with that freak” he hissed at you. “No no it’s not her, just my friends from the office” you said through shaky breaths “friends?” Dylan scoffed “who’d wanna be friends with you?” He laughed. Dylan trailed his hands down your body and pushed his fingers into your hips pinning you against the wall “I thought we’d stay here and… you know” he said as he lent forward, his breath got against your face. “Dylan I’m gonna be late, everyone’s waiting for me at the restaurant” you whispered “you are not going anywhere” your boyfriend said as he gritted his teeth. Dylan took a step back and slowly walked towards the door, pushing it shut and locking it “get on the bed” he instructed. You knew better than do disobey him.

Clint put the car into park and leaned over to stop Natasha from climbing out “I don’t think this is a good idea” he said “we can’t just crash her leaving party” Natasha shrugged “we’ll just say it’s a coincidence” she said, opening the door and jumping out before Clint could say anything else. Of course Natasha had this planned out, she had called the restaurant this morning and booked a table so it was no trouble when she walked right in dragging Clint behind her. The two were sat at a small table near the back of the small restaurant, and it didn’t take long to find out where your party was sitting, the only problem was, you weren’t there. “She’s probably just stuck in traffic” Natasha heard one of your coworkers say “no she only lives round the corner she’d usually walk” Sarah, another of your coworkers, said. Clint flashed Natasha a worried glance, having been listening in to the conversation as well.

You rolled slowly over to your side of the bed, your thighs sore and your hips throbbing. “See that wasn’t so hard was it?” Dylan said as he leaned over to kiss your cheek “it’s always best when you listen to me” he said. You pulled the duvet up above your shoulders as Dylan got up out of bed “right I’m going out” he huffed “and you are staying here” he said as he pulled the duvet off your bruised body “make me something nice to eat” he demanded. You stayed frozen as you listened to Dylan shuffling through your apartment, flinching suddenly when the front door slammed shut. You pulled your legs up to your chest as you sat up, bringing your hand up to cover your mouth as you cried. There was no way out of this hell, you’d tried again and again. Taking a job at S.H.I.E.L.D was supposed to be your ticket out but when you were passed over for a promotion to field agent you knew it wouldn’t be that easy.

On his way out, Dylan took a look at your phone and found the name of the restaurant your co workers were at. He made his way down the apartment building stairs and onto the street, taking a short walk around the corner to the restaurant. He strode through the doors and brushed off the waitress flashing him a kind smile. “Dylan!” Sarah, your colleague called “what are you doing here where’s y/n?” She asked “oh she’s not feeling well, she sends her apologies and sent me along to make sure you were all having a good time” your boyfriend said as he pasted a smile across his face. “The boyfriend?” Clint quietly asked, Natasha nodded her head yes as she watched Dylan from the corner of her eyes. “Oh that’s such a shame!” One of your colleagues said as she moved to hug your boyfriend. “Somethings not right” Natasha said having been tuned into the conversation “she wouldn’t miss this, she’s too much of a people pleaser” she said. “Sounds like someone else I know” Clint remarked, attempting to defuse Natasha’s tension. The widow glared at him with a hint of humour before an idea came to her mind. “Let’s go” Natasha said as she stood up “go where?” Clint asked. “Well if Dylan’s here and y/n’s not then I have a pretty good idea where she might be, and she’s there alone” the redhead said as she stealthily made her way towards the exit.

You hobbled around the kitchen slowly, a slight limp in your steps. The room was filled with the sizzling of the steak atop the pan, you moved around on auto pilot cutting up vegetables for a salad. You focused on the throbbing pain in your hips and watched as a small purple bruise began to form along your arm. You were used to this by now, completely alienated from your body as you recovered until the next time. The kitchen fell silent as you took the steak off the heat, reminding you of the presence of the ticking clock on the wall. Too focused on the thoughts circling in your head, you failed to notice the gentle click of your front door and the almost inaudible squeak of its hinges. You winced as you opened the freezer door with your sore arm, cursing under your breath at your own stupidity. You reached for the frozen vegetables when a voice from behind startled you. “Y/n?” you spun round in shock and your eyes met the same redhead you admired so much. “Natasha?” You asked with wide eyes “what are- how did you get in here?” You stuttered as your breathing picked up a rapid pace. The widow took in your dishevelled appearance and the smudged mascara underneath your eyes. “Did he do this?” She said as she reached out for your bruised arm “what?” You shrieked as you pulled away from Natasha “who? What are you talking about?” You asked as you felt the panic rise into your chest. “Dylan” Clint said, speaking up from behind the concerned redhead. “How long has this been going on?” Natasha asked as she took a sceptical step towards you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about” you said dismissively.

Avoiding eye contact with the concerned avengers you continued to potter about the kitchen. “I think you should leave, Dylan’ll be back for his dinner soon” you said. “What, he’ll be back from your leaving party” Natasha countered as she followed your footsteps. “Yeah, I’m not feeling great so I sent him along by himself” you grumbled in annoyance. “Oh right but you’re well enough to cook him a steak” the widow said becoming increasingly more angry. “What are you implying?” You asked “I’m not implying anything, I’m telling you that I know what’s going on” the furious redhead said. “Nat” Clint warned at his friend’s increasing temper. “Nothing is going on! Get out!” You yelled “y/n look at yourself!” As she took the empty plate from your hands. “Natasha” Clint sighed as he stepped forward “how did you get that bruise?” The widow asked “and before you lie, remember what it is that I do” she said. “I…I fell over the other day” you stuttered. Natasha let out a frustrated sigh as she turned away from you, not wanting to hear anymore lies. “Y/n that’s a recent bruise” Clint said calmly. “No it’s not” you argued “and the limp? You’re gonna tell me you got that when you fell over too right?” Natasha said as she twisted around to face you again. “Ye-yes…I…tripped on the stairs” you said anxiously. “Liar!” Natasha yelled.

The room was silenced when the front door slammed with a large bang; Natasha didn’t miss the way your body flinched. “Y/n?” Dylan said as he stomped into the kitchen “what’s going on?” He asked with faux sweetness. “Sorry, I’m Clint from S.H.I.E.L.D” the archer said as he extended his hand “we just wanted to see if y/n here would consider extending her notice. She’s an exceptional agent and will be a huge loss for us” Clint said. “Well I think she’s made up her mind, right honey?” Dylan nodded as he slipped his hands back into his pocket “yeah” you huffed quickly “yeah that’s right”. Natasha watched closely during this exchange, eyes running the length of Dylan’s hand to examine them for any signs of harm. “Okay” Clint sighed “then we’ll get out of your hair” he smiled “keep in touch okay kid” he said to you as he handed over a card with his phone number. Dylan stepped aside as the two agents headed for the door “goodnight y/n” Natasha said as she turned back to you, a sad smile pasted on her face. “Goodnight” Dylan said for the both of you, silencing your words and ending the conversation. You watched as red hair cascaded down the corridor, you wondered if that would be the last time you saw Natasha.

You avoided Dylan’s gaze as you began serving up his food “dinner’s ready” you said “do you want a beer? Or is water fine?”. Your boyfriend eyed you suspiciously as you frantically ran around the kitchen. He reached for your arm as you passed him, using his fingers to dig into the fresh bruise on your skin “I don’t remember saying you could have guests over” he spat at you. “They…they were ju-just” you stuttered nervously “yeah yeah they were just asking if you’d extend your notice” Dylan said, annunciating each word with his harsh voice. “They just showed up I didn’t know they were coming” you whimpered as his grip began to hurt you. “Do you honestly think I would believe anything you say?” Dylan asked calmly, alerting you to what was coming next. “You are nothing but a lying, selfish little slut!” He suddenly screamed, releasing you from his hold but using that same arm to batter you in the stomach with each of his insults. “You were whoring yourself out to that fucking redhead weren’t you? But she didn’t want you so you invited that prick over too!” He yelled “what was the plan? They were gonna fuck you while I was out? Cause it’s all you’re good for bitch!” He continued to shout as his fits became rougher, knocking the air out of your lungs.

You managed to shuffle backwards away from your boyfriend “it wasn’t like that I swear!” You pleaded as you held your arms up in surrender, giving Dylan perfect access to wipe you out with a simple kick to your legs. You hit the floor hard, the room was starting to spin as you felt yourself being dragged across the cold tiles. This was it, he was finally going to do it. “You are the most worthless piece of shit on this planet!” Dylan spat as he placed his weight on top of your sore ribs “you know I only kept you around because you were a good fuck. I would’ve killed you a long time ago if you didn’t have anything to offer” he said as he roughly placed his hands on your chest. You had to get out of here, and not in a body bag. Your boyfriend became overwhelmed with his sexuality, lifting his weight up to lean down to your neck and litter it with harsh kisses. It was the fastest decision you ever made, but you knew it was now or never. Using all your strength you flipped your body to one side and used Dylan’s surprise to push him away. The hallway was small so it didn’t create much distance and he was sure to be even more mad at the way he hit the wall.

You scrambled to your feet as Dylan groaned on the floor. Sprinting through the house, you didn’t bother to grab anything before heading straight to the door. Your boyfriend was on his feet now, he was going to catch up unless you stalled him. When you passed through the doorway you turned on your hells and dragged down the tall cabinet leaning against the wall. It came crashing down and blocked the only exit from your apartment. You decided to take the stairs, not the elevator, there was no way you could stop now, your adrenaline wouldn’t let you stand still for one second. You finally made it to the lobby of your building and hurried straight past all the concerned faces looking your way. You came out into the cold night, wearing nothing more than shorts and an oversized shirt. You didn’t have a plan. You didn’t know where you were going. You just knew you had to run. So that’s what you did. Ran. You just ran.

—————————————————————————

A/N: If this story has affected you in anyway please know you can always message me if you want to! Equally, there are so many resources available if you need support🤍

I’m an asshole for leaving you all with this cliffhanger before I take a break, see you in February hehe

- Astara Bell

—————————————————————————

[Taglist]

@saraaahsstuff / @dannipotatoo / @tobiaslut / @nev-valkyriesdottir / @marvelnatasha12346 / @yelenasdiary / @mousetheorist / @ashadash0904 / @strange-night-owl / @acciowriting / @hatergirl-69 / @lovelyy-moonlight

—————————————————————————

#marvel #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel fic #nat x reader #avengers #clint barton #clint x natasha #natasha romanoff x reader #agents of shield

45 notes · View notes

digonthis · 1 day ago

Text

Catered Audience- Pt. 3

Spencer Agnew x f!Reader

2.2k words

( ᴅᴍ ᴏʀ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛ ғᴏʀ ᴛᴀɢ :] )

slow burn-ish, fluff, mutual pining, all that shit

part 1 part 2

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧♡‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

You were honestly surprised by the amount of friends you’d made just from catering for Smosh. At Mythical you had a few people you’d stop and chat with casually, just regular small-talk stuff. But every time you showed up here you seemed to make at least a few new friends, the kinds of friends you could actually see yourself hanging out with regularly.

That day, you had caught some guy inspecting the order receipt. Thinking you’d messed up, a conversation started and soon enough it was casual chit chat, something like what old friends would do. He said his name was Alex, a good friend of Kiana who had apparently brought you up one or twice in conversation the last little while. He was happy to answer your somewhat silly questions about what his job was like as you finished up your work, but a question of his own stopped you in your tracks.

“Have you seen the little moments of fame you’ve had on the channel lately?”

He brought it up as casually as you would the latest news report or a change in the weather, but the topic had your heart beating a little faster. “I think it’s absolutely hilarious, and between you and me I did think that Spencer guy was super funny!”

You lean on your cart as you bring Spencer up, the truth was that you’d been watching Smosh in the background during all your cooking lately, primarily videos where he’d been present. That was only a little bit on purpose. “I mean like- in the video I watched you guys film. I love Limp Bizkit, so the impression killed me. And he was so funny and full of energy, even if he sucked at darts! I was cheering for him the whole time, even though it was pretty obvious he wasn’t gonna win-” You cut yourself off suddenly, realizing you’d started to ramble about a guy you’ve never met to a complete stranger.

Alex, sensing he’d really caught your attention, proceeded to hype Spencer up. Coolest guy in the office, super nice, super fun to be around. Absentmindedly, he crumpled and uncrumpled the catering receipt in the pocket of his jacket as he spoke. You were pretty much hooked on every word, all the while trying and failing to keep a casual look about the whole thing. “It’s pretty impressive, you know. The amount of credit you’re getting without even being in the studio. If people didn’t already know you for the bangin’ food they definitely know you now…” He says, and you sense a small ulterior motive behind his words.

“Hell, you could come to the office Christmas party and nobody would even bat an eye…” He says slyly, sipping his drink as wheels turn in your head.

“Uh… I dunno about that much, hm. Wouldn’t want to cause a fuss or be out of place or anything…” You say, the social anxiety already creeping up on you. What would you even say? What would you do? Who would you talk to? What would you wear? You noticed your hands moving a little more quickly and messily as you packed everything up, barely listening as he continued. “I’m sure everyone would be happy to see you, you know. No pressure or anything, just an idea.”

He left the room after dropping that idea, leaving you alone with your thoughts. The idea of being nothing more to Smosh than a one-off joke was a little saddening, especially after enjoying conversations with people as much as you had. Fading to the background now would mean likely losing a lot of that interaction, but the alternative was arguably worse, crashing a company Christmas party and hoping people like that plan. If they didn’t… well, the idea sent a shiver down your spine.

You spent the next few weeks as usual, scolding yourself internally as the christmas party came to your mind more than a few times. You busied yourself in your work, prepping excessively and way too far in advance, just as an excuse to give your mind something to do other than think about it.

In one of the videos you watched as you worked, a ‘who knows me best’ starring Spencer, Angela mentioned you again. You refused to look at the screen, not even wanting to see how anyone reacted, but like any other video it was only minutes before you were rewinding the video, pausing and zooming and analyzing people’s reactions to you. Giggles were audible behind the camera and Angela had a big shit-eating grin on her face, but Spencer was what you really cared about.

The way he pursed his lips, shoulders shaking to give away his quiet chuckle before he finally broke into a small smile. You told yourself the light blush across his cheeks was the lighting, and forced your eyes away. Back to work, a blush forming on your own cheeks as you continued.

As you finally sat down on the couch, you felt your phone buzz from your pocket. Fishing it out, an email from Smosh was the first thing you saw. You immediately perked back up, despite your exhaustion. and cracked open a redbull. A gigantic and fairly extravagant order, definitely meant for the holiday party. You were surprised at the quality of the ingredients they were springing on, nothing like golf leaf or caviar but a lot of high-ticket products that made you cringe when sending over the price quote.

Within minutes they had agreed without protest, and the redbull had already been downed. You decide against watching any more Smosh for your mental health’s sake, so you throw on some vinyl and get to work.

After a few days of non-stop work, you were glad to have a regularly scheduled dinner delivery to Smosh, as a break from being alone and doing nothing but baking. The christmas party order had an insane amount of sweets, so you’d been making plenty of cakes, cookies, squares, bars… thinking about it too long makes your head hurt.Wheeling your cart into the studio as usual put a smile on your face quickly though, as you immediately met Angela’s eye.

“What’s for dinner today?” She asks, falling into step with you as she attempts to peek under the foil of the containers. “At least let me put them on the counters first!” You giggle, quickening your pace a little to tease her. “Whatever it is, it smells so good…”

As the two of you walk along and chat, you lock eyes with the same guy you’d met last time. The one who suggested you come to the christmas party, Alex. He smiles, waving to you and Angela. “What’s up? Did you convince her to come yet?” “Come to what?” Angela asks. “I just tracked her down now, haven had time to ask anything yet…” She adds mischievously, a smirk on her face.

“I just meant the christmas party” Alex returns pointedly. It felt like there was something in this conversation you couldn’t fully understand, but you didn’t have time to ponder this as Angela’s hand shot to your shoulder, an excited glint in her eye. “You gotta come, it’ll be so fun! The girls are planning matching outfits and there’s always great drinks and people and something crazy always happens, it’s such a good time…” She continues her rant on and on until you’ve got all the food set up and people start making plates. The only thing that seemed to stop her tirade was the idea that something would run out before she’d get to eat.

You sigh and lean against the wall, finally having a moment of peace. You still found it to be a horrible idea, like crashing a party you weren’t meant to be at. Alex seemed to read your mind, leaning next to you.

“She has a point, somewhere in all that rambling. People would love to have you there, but… no pressure.”

He seemed apprehensive at the end of the statement, pondering something to himself before deciding to stay quiet. Needing to break it, you voiced your own opinion.

“It’s just so foreign to me, I guess. I’m not technically part of the company, or really ever been part of a company. It’s always just been me working for me, I have no clue how to act at a work party. It’s not my party to go to, and it’d just be too… weird.”

To your surprise, Alex didn’t argue your opinion. Just nodded and shrugged. “You’re not weird. Nobody would think you’re weird. From what I've seen, you have a knack for getting people to favour you, especially when you throw in a freebie with the order.”

With that strange anecdote he left the room casually, leaving you to think. What did he mean? At least it was good that people liked you but what freebies had you-

oh.

Why the fuck did he know about that???

You were a little glad he had left the room and wasn’t witnessing your little freak out, packing your things quickly and getting out of there as fast as possible. Selina caught you by the door before you can leave, your frazzled expression worrying her. “Who is Alex… close friends with?” You ask awkwardly as she tries to get you to spill whatever is on your mind. “Ah, he’s a super friendly guy but he’s definitely closest with Spenc-” “Nope!” You cut her off blankly, carting your shit out of the building without explanation leaving poor Selina confused and worried for you.

Alex must’ve talked to Spencer about you. Spencer must’ve talked about you to Alex. He took that receipt. How much does he know? What is there to know at all? Why did you tell Alex, a whole stranger that much the other day? You stand in front of your car door, weighing your options.

You could storm back in there, track him down and make him swear to secrecy. Search his office for the receipt, and threaten him for any information he had about you.

You could… drive all the way to Canada, change your name and start a new life?

You could grab a pint of ice cream and watch movies alone on your apartment until you fall asleep…

You went with the third option.

Ben and Jerry weren’t the best at giving advice but they sure did provide a comfort that you needed, until your phone buzzed with a instagram DM from Selina checking in. You assured her you were fine, but she wanted to know more. Within minutes you caved and sent paragraphs upon paragraphs of everything, from initially seeing Spencer to making the stupid cupcake to Alex and the receipt to the christmas party, and all Selina had to say in response was… laughing emojis. You threw your phone against the wall and fell asleep promptly.

Soon enough, it was the day of the christmas party and you were in a bit of a craze from all the cooking and baking you’d been submerging yourself in to forget about your feelings. You couldn’t help but feel proud as you looked over the vast expanse of food you’d made, the intricate and huge gingerbread house the star of the show.

Once everything was packed into your car, you felt a slight pang of dread. It would be the first time going back to Smosh since Alex’s little comment and your realization that Spencer probably knew more about you than you thought, but you quickly shook the feeling away. You had planned for this, it would take you a long time to set everything up at the venue so you’d given yourself plenty of time, enough so that you would be out the door and gone before any partygoers even show up. Keys in ignition and brave face on, you headed out.

The venue was just as extravagant as the catering order. It took you a few trips to get everything in, the only other person already there was Ian himself, and you insisted you didn’t need his help bringing things in. You hadn’t had the chance to speak with him much prior, but he was really nice and very complimentary to your work, especially the gingerbread house and gingerbread cookie of himself. You were having a great time talking to him, pleasantly surprised with his interest in the process of making everything, until you were tackled from behind with a hug.

“Thank God you decided to show!” Shrieked a voice so energetic it could only be Angela’s. “I knew you would, I did! I should have got you the dress to match, shit! This is gonna be so fun, don’t even worry-”

Ian looked at you confused as you gently pried her off, trying to quiet the excitement down so you could get going. “Show… for what?” He asked, catching Angela’s attention. “The party! I told her to come but she insisted she wouldn’t, but I think Alex changed her mind…”

“Um, no. Sorry… I was just dropping the stuff off…” You interject awkwardly, gesturing to the tables of food and dessert you’d just finished arranging. Ian took the brief silence as an opportunity to make you an offer that had your stomach dropping.

“Whatever we’re paying you for all this food definitely isn’t enough. The least I could do is let you eat some of it! Since it seems you’re friendly with the cast, it only makes sense.” He says casually, a completely oblivious smile on his face.

The only thing worse than intruding on a party was rejecting an invite once you’re already there. With Angela looking at you so hopefully and Ian sharing such a gracious offer, you really couldn’t say no without being insanely rude, so you nodded and smiled, your brain going haywire.

“Thanks, I hope I'm dressed okay, I really didn’t plan on staying…” You smooth your slightly wrinkled shirt down before Angela places a hand on yours. “Have you ever seen our costume department?”

The grin on her face tells you that you would be seeing it soon.

(A/N- ɪ ᴘʀᴇᴡʀᴏᴛᴇ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ɪғ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ғᴡ ᴛʜɪs ! ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴡʜᴇɴ ɴᴜᴍʙᴇʀs ɢᴏ ᴜᴘ sᴏ ɪғ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴs ɪʟʟ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ! ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ʙɪɢ ᴊᴜɪᴄʏ ᴋɪss ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛs ᴏʀ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ )

#smosh #smosh games #smosh fanfic #smosh fanfiction #spencer agnew #spencer x reader #spencer agnew x reader #spencer agnew fanfic #spencer agnew fanfiction #spencer agnew imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #smosh x reader #smoshblr #spencer smosh #proofreading is for the weak

40 notes · View notes

cosmowgyral · 5 hours ago

Text

Falling into Sin with the Black Tiger ~ Gilbert's 4th Birthday

▪︎ Chapter 1

This is a fan translation so please don't expect it to be 100% accurate. Creative liberties have been taken. All content belongs to Cybird. Reblogs are appreciated. Hope you enjoy!

CW- smut, mentions of blood

As the end of the year approached, a significant day was about to arrive.

Gilbert: What do I want to do?

Emma: That’s right. Can you please tell me anything?

I was sitting on my knees on the bed, wiping Gilbert’s hair with linen after his bath.

I wanted to give the impression that I was only casually probing….at least that’s what I thought.

Gilbert: Hehe, you’re a man of your word, that’s impressive, isn’t it?

Gilbert: You’re celebrating me again this year.

(I was found out in an instant.)

Emma: I promised you last year.

----*flashback*----

Emma: I’ll definitely celebrate with you again next year.

Gilbert: Hehe, I get it. As long as you’re you, I’ll celebrate.

----*flashback ends*----

Emma: I think it’s going to be an annual event from now on.

Gilbert: Ahaha, I never thought you would say something like that after I came home covered in blood.

(….I guess it wasn’t just my imagination after all.)

A little while ago, when Gilbert returned, he smelled of blood and gunpowder.

There were no visible bloodstains because his clothes were all black, but that couldn’t fool my nose, which has become capable of detecting such ominous scents.

(Gilbert always warns me.)

(So I don’t commit a sin unconsciously.)

Emma: …I always think about it.

Emma: Every time you come home covered in blood, I feel glad that you are safe.

Emma: ….I think about that before I even start thinking about whose blood you shed.

(Controlling evil with evil. I understand that this is Prince Gilbert’s way….)

(And yet, I pray every single day for his safety.)

Gilbert: Hehe, sorry. I was being mean again. I was just happy to be celebrated by you.

Gilbert, who had been facing forward, turned around and kissed me lightly on my cheeks.

Gilbert: I won’t say it again.

Gilbert: But I think asking me about what I want to do is stupid.

Gilbert: I love you a lot, so just being able to be with you like this fulfills most of my wishes.

Emma: Please be more greedy and villainous.

Gilbert: Am I not greedy enough?

Emma: It’s not enough at all. I want you to wish for something that’s different than usual since it’s a special day.

Gilbert: ..mmmm…

Gilbert: ….I feel like I’m facing the biggest challenge of my life.

(Is it that much!?)

Gilbert, while groaning as if in deep thought, wraps his hand around my head and gently pulls me closer.

He playfully pecks my lips several times, and before I knew it, I was pushed down onto the bed.

(…..Huh?)

Gilbert: What’s wrong?

Even though his words sound thoughtful, Gilbert pulls down my negligee and kisses my exposed skin, and I don’t get an answer to my question.

Emma: A..are you really thinking about it?

Gilbert: I am thinking about it. I am thinking about it harder than ever.

Gilbert: Are you questioning my sincerity, little rabbit? That’s cruel.

Gilbert smiles as he gently bites my collarbone. My breasts are played with by the tip of his tongue, and my hot and sweet breaths, melt away.

Gilbert: What do I really want?

(Maybe Gilbert isn’t used to these kind of things.)

When I touch his slightly damp hair, he snuggles up to me, like he wants to be petted.

I get carried away and ruffle his hair, and then our lips meet again.

(…Let’s wait patiently.)

(There’s still a lot of things to do for the day.)

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ㅤ𔘓 ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

In Obsidian, which is known as the land of minerals, gems can be found all over the city.

There seems to be a particularly strong sales campaign going on before Christmas, with special stalls lined up before the stores.

In Rhodolite, gemstones are something that only the aristocratic people have access to. But here, they are familiar to all the people, regardless of their social status.

(This is troublesome….)

(I wanted to give Gilbert some stones, but with this many varieties it is difficult.)

To Gilbert, who is a member of the royal family, jewels are not valuable at all.

However, he had told me about it some time back, on my birthday.

In Obsidian, it is customary to gift jewels on special occasions. The more loved you are, the more jewels you’ll have around you in your final moments.

(I’m the only one who can gift a jewel to Gilbert.)

(I’ve decided that I will definitely give this to him, regardless of his wishes.)

(…..I did decide that but…..)

Sapphires, topaz, diamonds, rubies, emeralds….

Even when I look at these beautiful gemstones, I can’t find anything I associate with Gilbert.

(Rather than worrying about it alone, I should ask an expert. Maybe they can give me some advice.)

Emma: Excuse me. I’m looking for a birthday gift and I want to know what’s popular right now.

Jeweller: Oh, in that case----

Jeweller: ….ngh…

(……)

(….I’ve gotten used to this reaction.)

The pale eyes of the jeweller stare deep into mine.

He might be sensing an unusual murderous intent.

Emma: …..I’m sorry. I’ll think about it myself.

I quickly left the store and went down an unseen ally.

Emma: Gil, are you there?

Gilbert: Ahaha, I was found right away.

[Masterlist] [Chapter 2]

#ikepri gilbert #gilbert von obsidian #ikemen prince #ikepri jp #ikepri translations #ikepri #ikemen prince translations #cybird ikemen #ikemen series #cybird otome #otome games #d: cafekitsune #d: enchanthings

33 notes · View notes

dyemelikeasunset · 1 day ago

Note

Hello! I hope you n your wife have a happy holidays / winter solstice! Anyways, I have been wondering for a while now how you get your tattoos on your ocs so consistent n crisp n glorious all the time? Do you just have the art on those tattoo compilation things you post sometimes n then copy n trace it onto them? That’s the only thing I can come up with… but I don’t think that could be all that is? I want to do ocs with tattoos but every time I try the tattoo never looks the same or remains in the same exact location after like 10 times drawing them with them, so I can’t comprehend how throughout a 2 year comic it’s stayed so consistent and satisfying and how so many designs you have to accumulated n keep track of really is so mind boggling to me!!

I’m sorry if you answered this question before n I didnt see it! Anyways! I’m so grateful to my bestie for introducing art to me! Everything you do is so impressive to me and I’m obsessed with your art I like to zoom in and just take each panel all in!!!! I really look up to you- okay bye-

Hello, we did have a good winter and holiday season, thank you!

and yes, I just use those tattoo design compilations and copy+paste them onto my characters! I save out transparent pngs and use transform and warp tools in my drawing programs to help conform them to my characters' bodies right

Thank you for enjoying my art so much, I'm very grateful to your friend and you for both reading Dom & Mor!!!

#art help

35 notes · View notes

dark-elf-writes · 2 days ago

Note

for ur birthday bash (happy extended bday by the way !!!!): nb izuku discovering theyre nb w fellow nb mentor!mic - w shitty parent!inko. as a bonus. :3

“Listener?”

Izumi blinked, dragging his eyes away from the ground so far below to need the gaze of the hero leaning casually against the low wall of the roof next to them.

(Mostly casually. Izuku didn’t miss they kept themself within arms reach. Just in case.)

“You’re Present Mic.” Normally Izuku would have been thrilled about it. Would have already been chattering away about quirks support gear, mind flashing through a dozen questions he has had from the moment he first heard them on the radio. But…

He was tired. He was hurting. He was… something that he couldn’t explain.

“I am, Listener. We’re across the street from the station, you know. Just right over there.” They pointed to a building across the way, tall and covered in neon signs.

Huh. Izuku hadn’t noticed. He had just picked the first building with mostly easy roof access he had found to think. An increasingly common occurrence after his meeting with All Might if he was entirely honest.

It figured he would pick the one spitting distance away from a hero on today of all days.

“So,” Present Mic drew the word out, long and almost teasing if not for the way they were hovering, “wanna talk about it?”

“Talk about what?”

They shrugged. “In my experience people don’t come to sit on the edge of roof’s with that kind of expression unless they have something worth talking about.”

Izuku shouldn’t. He should leave. He should run. He should—

“Every time I look in the mirror I want to scream.” Not the confession he had intended to say, but, considering how the last time he told a pro hero he was Quirkless went, the safer one. “My best friend hates me, and every time he hurts me or breaks my things I think I might hate him a little too but if I admit that he’s not really my friend then I’m actually alone. My mom keeps calling me the man of the house and her baby boy and every time she does I want to pull my skin off, but she doesn’t notice because she would have to actually look at me to see which she hasn’t done since I was five. I don’t even think she stays at the apartment just leaves some money on the table at the start of every month and a note to ‘Be a man.’”

Present Mic hummed so low Izuku could feel it in his chest. “Sounds like you have a whole lot to talk about, Listener.”

A choked laugh forced its way through Izuku’s too tight throat. He scrubbed under his eyes harshly to force away tears he couldn’t let fall. They didn’t help him last time he talked to a hero after all. “Yeah. Guess I do.”

Another hum, then, “Do you feel like a boy, Listener?”

Izuku opened his mouth, a reflexive agreement on his tongue, then snapped it closed again.

Did he feel like a boy? He had to… right? But no, he didn’t. Not when the hero standing next to him was proof.

(How a stranger had noticed in less than twenty minutes when no one else in Izuku’s life had said something that he was going to ignore.)

“You don’t need to answer now. Just think about it, yeah?” Present Mic tipped their head back into the warmth of the sun, a smile that wasn’t anywhere near happy on their face. Their hair, down Izuku realized when he finally turned to look at them, practically glowed in the light. Liquid gold hanging around their shoulders.

Then, the moment passed, and Present Mic looked back at them with a smile that matched the warmth in their eyes. “If you want, there’s a training room in the station. I could show you some moves to protect yourself if that boy tries to hurt you again.”

Izuku knew he shouldn’t. Knew that it wouldn’t end well. Knew that if he was left alone on another roof, the story wouldn’t end so well a second time.

But as he looked at their green eyes and the gloved hand they held out to him, Izuku couldn’t have stopped the question if he had wanted to.

“Do you think that someone without a quirk can still be a hero?”

“Of course.” Present Mic didn’t so much as hesitate. Don’t even have to think about it. Like it was a given. “Plenty of heroes have non combat quirks, why couldn’t someone quirkless be a hero like them?”

Izuku laughed as he took that gloved hand, feeling lighter than he had in years.

#the elf talks #mha #bnha #the elf’s birthday week bash #Izuku eventually uses they/them pronouns but baby steps #Hizashi wanted them off of the roof first and foremost everything else is step two #they become Izuku’s mentor instead of all might and help them train for UA and beyond tbh

27 notes · View notes

watarfallar · 13 hours ago

Text

I've ran out of title ideas............................... DESERT DUO!

Scar: Swear words are illegal now. If you say one you'll be fined. Grian: Heck. Scar: You're on thin fucking ice. Scar: Oh no-

Grian: This is ridiculous! Scar: Hey, someone’s gotta be the jester for the court.

Grian, having recently lost their glasses: KILL THE BUG!!! Scar: ….That’s a gecko—

Scar: Holding up a picture of a seemingly young anime girl WHO IS SHE?! IS SHE TWELVE?! Grian: No! She's a thousand years ol- Scar: Cocks shotgun Grian: NO! NOOOOOOOOOO-!

Scar: Can I have some? Grian, mouth full of cheesecake: It's really spicy, you wouldn't like it.

Scar: Fight me! Grian, standing behind them and holding a knife: mouths Do not.

Scar: Wakey Wakey Eggs and Bakey! Grian: But I'm a vegan. Scar: Wakey Wakey Vegetables and Sadness.

Scar: I'm trying to juggle family life and work life but I can't seem to find a balance. What do you suggest I do to keep everyone happy? Grian, deadpan: Quit your job, kill your family.

Grian: You want some leftovers? Scar: What are those? Grian: You've never had leftovers before? Scar: No, ‘cause I’m not a quitter.

Scar: Why do humans have different blood groups? Grian: So mosquitoes can enjoy different flavors.

Scar: I thought I told you to stop reading my emails. Grian: Well, I thought I told you to stop keeping secrets!

Grian: Good morning. As you begin your day, remember that violence is always an option and often the answer. Scar: Grian: Scar: …Please, go back to bed.

Scar: I suppose you’re right. We really would be better off working together. Grian: So, then… détente? Scar: Agreed. Grian: Understanding? Scar: Possibly. Grian: Cooperation? Scar: Maybe. Grian: Trust? Scar: Out of the question.

Scar: I'm very scary. Grian: You're about as scary as a wet kitten. Scar: Wet kittens are cute, at least I've got that going for me. Grian: And small. Scar: Scar: …Yeah, yeah. I guess.

Grian: Unpopular opinion, not all dogs are good boys. Scar: Blocked. Grian: Sometimes, they’re good girls! Scar: UNBLOCKED!

Scar: Come on Grian, do it for our friendship. You can't put a price on that… Grian: Yes I can, dear. Fifty dollars.

Grian: Do you take constructive criticism? Scar: Not without crying

Scar: What’s up with you? Grian: What do you mean? Scar: You’ve been nice and helpful and considerate all day. What’s your game?

Grian: The universe is cold and unfeeling. The only constant is chaos. Scar: Was that place out of chocolate-chip pancakes again?

#grian #gtws #incorrect quotes #desert duo #scarian #enjoy💜💜💜

25 notes · View notes

1d1195 · 3 hours ago

Text

The Lottery IV

Read The Lottery here | ~6.2k words

From me: we're getting close to the end I think

Warnings: angsty/fluffy/pining nonsense. Slow burning love

Summary: Harry loves to help her. She loves to help him. The whole town knows he loves her. They wish he would admit it.

Just like Christmas, she was out and about in the middle of the summer solstice festival. She helped organize a wiffle ball tournament for the younger kids and convinced Harry to make hot dogs and hamburgers to hand out in the middle of the field. She was at the diner bright and early making her way behind the counter and grabbing pitchers that Harry used for water to make batches of lemonade.

Why he didn’t say no, baffled her. But to Harry it was obvious.

They were sipping lemonade on the curb outside his diner. They were watching people eat and chat. There was music and dancing. It was warm and the air smelled like barbeque and bug spray. The sun was setting, and she looked so pretty. Tanned, hair pulled back through a baseball hat, and her legs stretched into the road. Harry wasn’t going to sit outside and deal with the festival at all, but she was there, so he had little choice in the matter. But as happy as he felt (inwardly—God forbid Harry smile) he wondered why she didn’t have a happier look on her face. “What?”

She hesitated for only the briefest moment. “Do you... know anything about fireworks?” She asked.

He stared at her. He was already ahead of her and knew exactly where her questioning was going to lead next, but he was a glutton for punishment. Or just really wanted to see her smile because she was happy. “Not particularly,” he mumbled.

She pouted. Her fingers went to the little moon charm around her neck, and she rubbed her thumb over it, like a nervous habit. Or a worry stone. “I guess the person who dropped the fireworks off didn’t get the memo he was supposed to stay to help set them off.”

Maybe if she was touching anything other than the necklace that Harry got her, he would have said no. (Although probably not.) It was like it was a comfort to her and it made him a little too happy knowing she was using it as a coping motion whether she realized it or not. In fact, if it was subconscious, it made Harry like it more—even almost a little possessive in nature. With a deep sigh, Harry pushed off the curb and headed toward where he knew the fireworks were being set off. “You don’t have to help,” she called from behind him.

“Are y’gonna set them off, Peach?” He questioned; his eye roll could be heard without having her look back at him to see it. “You’ll blow y’hand off.”

She smiled sweetly to herself, smoothing her finger over the moon charm once more. “Did you see the moon today?” She asked and pointed toward the crescent that wasn’t much different than the one around her neck.

He looked at it briefly. “S’nice,” he answered sincerely as he could because he was focused on the fireworks and how he would get her away because he would lose his ever-loving mind if she got injured. People called out to her, and she waved like she was the mayor. She was one of the nicest people Harry had ever met so it wasn’t surprising that people adored her, but it was pretty crazy that she chose one of the grumpiest people to befriend. She looked fondly at the moon as they walked, nearly not paying attention to her footpath, so Harry grabbed her wrist before she tripped and fell over another curb.

“Sorry,” she shook her head and focused on their walk and glanced briefly at it once more before. Longingly, like she wouldn’t see it again.

“Do y’know what the outline around the moon is?” He asked, wondering if he could distract her so she would still be able to talk about the moon but not nearly break an ankle on the ground. “I’ve always wondered.”

She nodded. “It’s called earthshine. Basically, the light from the sun bounces off the earth and reflects on the moon that’s not illuminated by the sun.”

“Cool,” he said simply.

She smiled. “I’m a little weird about the moon, hmm?”

“Why do you think that?”

The smile on her pretty face disappeared and she shook her head. “No reason, just... I think I can be a lot sometimes.”

Harry wished they weren’t about to set off fireworks and they were in the privacy of his diner or her house or something. But really what would he have actually said if they were alone? It’s not like he would confess his feelings for her. The anger he felt toward whoever made her feel like a lot made his chest ache. The shyness on her face made him feel sick. She wasn’t a lot. Or if she was, she should have been a lot, proudly.

But they weren’t alone, and Harry wasn’t going to tell her how he felt anyway. “Well, there’s worse thing t’be a lot ‘bout than the moon,” he shrugged.

“Not the pancakes though,” she grinned sweetly, the brief look of sadness in her eyes replaced by her usual playfulness.

The smirk on his lips didn’t match the smile he felt on the inside. “I thought we were talking ‘bout y’being a lot. Not high maintenance.”

“Harry Styles!”

He shrugged, uncaring at his backhanded comment. He continued on trying not to think about how pretty she looked when she talked about things she loved. Tried not to think about the retroactive heart ache in his chest. Or maybe it was predicting the future because someone as pretty and lovely as her could only break his fragile heart.

But he also noticed that the tiniest bit of hope was blooming inside his ribcage because she was so pretty and lovely. It would be worth the heartache. Right? She would be worth it.

So, Harry kept quiet and focused on the fireworks. Hundreds of exploding colorful things and not a single one of them had anything to do with the ones that illuminated the sky a little while later.

Harry’s phone rang mid-evening. He was reading a book and had the football game on from the morning. It was the perfect kind of night. But of course, when he saw that Peach was calling, he didn’t have a choice. She never called. She texted and texted. Sent him pictures of the moon on her grainy camera and the cute little dogs that she saw in the city some days. Sometimes she sent him links to recipes she thought he should try for breakfast and honestly, he was a shitty friend because he typically ignored most of them. Sending only a thumbs up emoji or an okay if she asked for help.

So, Harry assumed she was dying in that moment.

“Hello?” He answered quickly fear starting in his chest before he could stop it.

“I don’t know what’s happening! My washing machine is freaking out and it’s overflowing, and I don’t know what to do!”

Harry was relieved and also halfway out the door the moment he said hello. “M’on m’way.”

There was a knock on the front door about five minutes after she called Harry. “It’s open!” She knew she was going to get a lecture about leaving it unlocked again. But Harry came right in. She was busy with every towel she owned creating a barrier around the floor of the laundry room (a small little space, hardly bigger than a closet) and kept the water from creeping into the hall.

Harry didn’t even come near her he headed straight for her basement. Within moments the water stopped dripping, and she sighed with relief. “I turned y’water off.”

“Fuck, why didn’t I think of that,” she frowned. “Sorry you came all the way over,” she pushed the towels into the closet sopping up the mess as best she could.

“D’you have a wet vac?”

“A what?”

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll be right back.”

Ten minutes later, Harry returned, knocking and walking in. “You don’t have to knock, Harry.”

“S’polite,” he muttered. “Move,” he pushed her gently out of the way, plugged in the vacuum, and sucked up the water. She rubbed her temples as he turned it off and twirled the cord back up into a neat circle.

“I can’t even wash these,” she grumbled. “Oh my God, I used every towel,” she groaned.

“I’ll take ‘em,” Harry shrugged. “Wash ‘em for you,” he offered.

“Harry, I can’t have you do my laundry.”

“S’not like m’washing your underwear, Peach. S’jus’ towels.” She tried not to think about Harry touching her underwear. But it was very difficult. Fortunately, Harry was focused on the task at hand, grabbing a trash bag to put her sopping wet towels in for transport. “Are y’doing some home improvements?” He asked looking at the few boxes of soft close drawer slides.

“I think I put too much stuff in one drawer in the kitchen. It kinda broke. So, I figured I could revamp all of them and that it would make me sift through stuff I no longer need or want. The bathroom drawer was sticking anyway, so it made sense to fix them all.”

“Do y’need help?” He asked. She bit the inside of her lip. It felt like she had been waiting to ask Harry if she could borrow his drill. But that seemed so rude to just outright ask him. He was a busy guy, and she was more than willing to do it herself, but she knew he would insist on helping.

Plus, there was the whole Ronan side of things.

“Peach?”

How long had she been silent while Harry kindly packed up her towels? Why did she feel guilty about dating someone else around him? Was Harry getting hotter by the second or was that a trick of the light?

“We’re... friends right?”

Harry blinked. “I don’t think a stranger could get me t’dress as Santa,” he rolled his eyes and stared at her. “S’matter? I can pop these in for y’in a minute,” he nodded toward the boxes again.

“Well, thank you. But I would really like to do it,” she admitted. “I don’t want to take advantage of your help, and I like to believe I’m independent.”

“Peach, y’own a whole business and house. S’not like y’jus’ wait around for me t’do stuff for you. M’still miffed y’cleaned your own gutters after I said I would do it.”

“Yeah, but it’s gross,” she reminded him. “You had your own gutters to do and everyone under the sun would ask you.”

He rolled his eyes again ignoring her rationale. “We’re friends, of course.”

Her heart skipped a beat. It almost bothered her that they were friends. Only friends. She looked at her feet. “I’m kind of seeing someone. Hasn’t been long. Only four or so dates. Only dinner and movies. But I didn’t tell you because... I don’t know. I didn’t tell anyone to be fair. Just Bailey, actually. I don’t know the protocol for dating around here because it feels like I need the whole town to approve of him like it’s my business venture all over again. And I don’t know, I know that I’m friendly and stuff and everyone likes me, but I think you’re my only real friend here and I don’t think I need anyone else’s approval except yours and I think that makes me a shitty friend.”

It was so quiet she thought that maybe Harry just left while she rambled. She knew why she needed Harry’s approval. It would mean that he didn’t like her in that way. That the way she liked him wasn’t reciprocated and it was a good thing that she was dating. Her pining would be quiet and hidden. The way it had been since she moved to town and made him make her pancakes even though he didn’t want to. Even though she was a pain in the butt and made him dress like Santa and made him set off fireworks when he didn’t really want anything to do with town events.

Finally, she peered up from her feet and looked at Harry and his confused expression. His eyebrows pinched together. His eyes searching her curiously. “Why d’you need my approval t’date someone? S’your love life,” he shrugged. “If he’s nice t’you, I won’t have a problem with him,” she wondered if he knew how much that meant to her. Apparently, she was hoping for his approval more than she truly realized. She nearly choked on the breath she was holding as she released it. “M’gonna put this in m’truck. D’you have a drill or do y’need mine?” He asked hauling the wet towels toward the front door.

“Yours,” she croaked.

Harry shouldn’t have been surprised that she was dating. She was so lovely. Inside and out. There was no other way to describe it. Sure, she was beautiful outwardly, but it only reflected a fraction of how stunning her personality was. Even the annoying parts. It made his chest pinch with jealousy every time he thought of the stupid (that was Harry’s code word for lucky) man that held her affection.

Fortunately for Harry, Ronan didn’t last much longer. “It just didn’t click,” she shrugged over her white chocolate chip and peach pancakes one morning when Harry asked her why she looked upset.

“M’sorry, Peach,” Harry frowned. “S’on me today,” he assured her.

“You can’t give me free food every time I have a breakup. I suspect you’ll lose money at that rate,” she said with a tone of self-deprecation that Harry couldn’t truly believe was coming from her voice. “I think I’m destined to be alone,” she sighed. He snorted before he could stop it. Reached across the counter and squeezed her forearm.

“I simply don’t believe that,” he said reassuringly. She blinked at Harry’s willingness to touch her arm unprompted and before she knew it, he was gone, back to the grill to make more food.

What she couldn’t see was the absolutely delighted smile on his lips—completely on display in private—at the thought of her breakup.

She dated a few guys over the years. But Harry’s confidence in her ability to find someone seemed unfounded. Each one ended in a breakup. Only one in particular made her heart ache for longer than the others. Even Harry treated her differently for that month of moping in her own way. She didn’t banter as much. It made Harry ache with want for her attitude, quips, and annoyingness.

Each time Harry comped her pancakes and reassured his friend that she was destined for love whether she believed it or not.

Small town life wasn’t for the guys she brought to the little place with so many traditions and parties. They didn’t earn the approval of everyone in town but the only approval she needed was that of her best friend.

"When’s Louis coming back?” She asked.

Harry hated when Louis came back now. He used to love seeing his friend and getting to be himself around someone that didn’t treat him differently just because he was heartbroken and damaged the way the rest of the town did.

“Never,” he rolled his eyes.

She frowned and immediately reached for the moon charm on her pretty throat. “I miss him.”

“Well, I don’t like when y’two are together. S’trouble. Y’both are mean.”

“Are you saying that because we make fun of your grumpiness together?” He glared at her over his shoulder and headed to the back to get the pitcher of coffee he made for her the day before as he always did. Despite the fact that she was a pain in the butt and made fun of him with his (supposed) best friend. “You’re different when he’s around,” she said when he returned pouring the coffee into a reusable cup because she would be on the go soon enough. Although, the way she settled in with her laptop, notebook, and everything else spread across the seat next to her and her own spot, Harry wasn’t sure when her reading hour began today. It looked like she was staying for the morning, which would have delighted him.

There was hardly any room for the breakfast he was going to bring out though—fortunately it was a muffin day so she wouldn’t need much room. Today she wore a Dr. Suess hat—like the one the Cat in the Hat wore. She had drawn whiskers on her cheeks and a cute red triangular nose too. She was so fucking cute it was unbearable for Harry sometimes (almost always).

“Different,” he repeated trying to stop the swelling of his heart as he looked at her. He smacked her hand as she reached for the cream and sugar behind the counter, loosening the swell and reminding him not to drool.

“You smile more. Same when Gemma visits. I think you are hiding some nice memories in there,” she poured cream into the liquid and tapped the side of her head with her freehand. “I’ve heard rumors since I’ve moved here that you got some bad ones too,” she shrugged casually as if those bad memories weren’t the reason he was a sour person. “I like when they’re around. I like when other people get to see the real Harry, not the one that’s been hiding behind your grumpy face.”

“How do y’know m’not the real Harry?” As far as he could tell his grumpy persona was the only one that he had left to show.

She shrugged again. “Real grumpy people don’t dress up as Santa or supply lemonade for the whole town. Nor do they do things for their annoying friend and comp her breakfast when she gets broken up with.”

She grabbed the muffin, turned and headed for the exit. “Peach? Your stuff?”

“Oh, I’ll be back. I just have reading hour,” she grinned over her shoulder, truly as chaotic as the Cat in the Hat was.

“You’re not serious,” he followed after her as she crossed the street toward her shop stopping in the middle of the road but it wasn’t like there were enough cars to worry about getting run over. “Y’can’t leave your stuff on the counter!”

“It’s only an hour, Harry. I’ll be right back!”

“M’not watching it! If it gets stolen, m’not responsible!”

“If someone in this town wants to steal my stuff, they can have it!” She shouted without turning around and entered her shop.

But she knew Harry was going to watch it anyway.

“Miss Peach, are you any good at trigonometry?”

She was behind the check out counter, reading from her book monitoring the study group. People were reading and a couple were stacking books in their arms. “Hmm,” she pursed her lips. “It’s been a long while since I thought about trigonometry, Lea,” she headed to the reference section to see if she could find a textbook to help them. She pulled a chair up beside the pair of girls who were working.

Harry was outside, fixing the Christmas lights to the front of her window. “Harry is in love with you,” Lea whispered.

She blushed. “He’s just my friend,” she said and flipped through the pages looking for something useful that would help them solve their problem.

“I wish I had a friend like Harry,” Maryam muttered.

She snorted and then smiled. “He’s a good one.”

“Do you like him?” Lea asked.

“Do I like one of my very best friends? Yes. Of course I do.”

“Miss Peach,” Maryam rolled her eyes.

“Harry’s so easy to read,” Lea whispered. There was a pair of boys at the other end of the big square table. They were “studying” watching highlight reels from yesterday’s game. “You’re much more difficult. Plus, you do the whole dating thing,” she explained.

“It absolutely tortures Harry,” Maryam agreed.

“Hey Peach, d’you have another string of lights?” He asked from the doorway. “This one y’gave me is half out.”

She frowned. “I’ll have to go buy another string later.”

“I’ll go,” he shrugged and headed out just as quickly.

“Smitten,” Maryam sighed.

“Completely,” Lea agreed.

“This looks like the diagram you’re working with,” she diverted back to the textbook and focused on the numbers and letters of her homework problem and not the bit of hope that filled her lungs at the thought of Harry liking her in that way. If there was a chance of having him all to herself,she never would date another man the rest of her life.

Harry helped stock books when a new shipment came in, which was great because he was much more focused than she was. She had to read the back cover of any new book, and it took her twice as long to unpack them all. “What do you like to read?”

He shrugged. “Bit of everything.”

“Do you have something to recommend to me?” She asked putting only one lone book on the shelf when Harry had set up at least two whole sections of shelves in that time. She stocked essentially one or two of each book that arrived at her store. It wasn’t a massive bookstore, so space was of course limited. But if someone wanted to buy it she would order more.

Harry watched her reading the back cover of the next book, her fingers around the moon charm once more sliding it gently back and forth along the chain. She looked so at home surrounded by books and so relaxed. She dropped the charm and reached for her coffee to sip it. Harry wanted to take a picture of her because this was completely her element; it needed to be preserved for all of time. “Uh...”

“It doesn’t have to be anything personal. I get wanting to hoard a book that means a lot to you. It’s kind of like asking someone to watch your baby for the first time. You don’t want anything to happen to it,” she offered. “I just thought I’d ask. I don’t really know what kind of books you like,” she smiled. “I would love to stock stuff for you.”

“Uh...” he shook his head struggling to come up with a title. He cleared his throat. “I read sort of depressing books,” he focused on stocking the next shelf.

She frowned, her fingers immediately finding the charm around her neck again. “Well, that’s okay. I prefer the term cathartic, perhaps? Books are meant to make you feel but I don’t think they’re meant to make you feel depressed,” she shrugged. “I read The Tattooist of Auschwitz and that is by far one of the saddest books I’ve ever read but it might be one of my favorites.”

She watched Harry carefully place the books on the shelves. He was taking great care not to bend any covers. He was gentle. This was important to her and ergo it seemed important to him. “I don’t think I have any titles t’share,” he shrugged.

She nodded. “That’s fine, I just wanted to ask.”

“Do y’have The Tattooist of Auschwitz?” He asked quietly. She smiled, nodded excitedly and scampered to behind the checkout counter. There was a pile of books beneath the cabinets—her own personal collection of favorites that she liked to keep there as backups if she wasn’t in the mood to dive into something new. Or if a student at the high school needed a book for a project and she happened to have it and it wasn’t going to be ordered in time.

Or if Harry needed a copy of one of her favorites.

“It’s a pretty quick read, but God does it make you feel.” He turned it over in his hands. Like he was holding her baby in his hands as she had said. This book meant something important to her and she was passing it off to him. “I hope you’ll like it, but I won’t be offended if you don’t.”

Harry couldn’t imagine a scenario in which he wouldn’t like her baby. “How much?”

“Oh, that’s my copy,” she said. “I can order you one, if you want your own. But you can have that one for now.”

He tucked it carefully beneath his jacket on the back of a nearby chair. The box of books in front of him needed organizing. They went back to their quietness of Harry stocking books, her reading the back of one for every row of books Harry completed, and her fingers danced along the chain around her neck.

Like everyone else, she noticed the diner had been closed for three days. It didn’t even have the opening late sign that every once in a blue moon appeared merely because he had an appointment or was sleeping late (because he deserved it! She told everyone who complained) or the delivery was coming in later than expected and it didn’t make sense to open without food or dealing with it partway through the breakfast rush.

But three days with no communication from him of any kind and no sight of him, made her a bit anxious. Harry was often in her house without warning before she arrived home—fixing something for her that she didn’t even know needed fixing. Or because she had mentioned something in passing that wasn’t working up to snuff. Any time she bought a lightbulb, it seemed Harry knew, and he was in her house testing all light switches and lamps to find the culprit.

All of that meant she felt entering his diner without asking seemed like it was only fair (and legal as far as their friendship went.) The silence in the usually bustling little place didn’t feel right though. She missed her friend (and the pancakes). But mostly arguing with her friend and the smack on the back of her hand when she reached for the cream and sugar that dare she say she missed for the last three days.

“Harry,” she sang making her way back toward the apartment behind his shop. “Honey, I’m home!” She cooed. She hadn’t been back here before but found the little hallway that led behind the back of the diner and to the door to what had to be his living space.

She knocked and opened it without waiting for a response.

One look and it hardly looked like he was home. She frowned, feeling bad that she was intruding but then she heard a cough.

“Harry?” She asked.

Slowly his tall body appeared. It was obvious he didn’t feel well. He covered his mouth with the crook of his elbow, his hair in disarray. His eyes shiny with sleep and the exertion of coughing so hard it made his eyes water. He looked exhausted.

“Oh my,” she murmured. “Are you alright?”

“How did y’get in?” It felt like knives scraping against every inch of the inside of his throat to speak. He winced as she pushed past him.

“Jesus. No talking. Come sit down,” but she was already pulling him to his couch. Like she had been here a thousand times even though it was the first time she set foot back here in all the years she had known him. She fluffed the pillows around him and tossed a blanket over him. Harry hadn’t had someone care for him while he was sick since he was young—since his mom and Gem tended to his stomach bugs and during his yearly cold and flu season. “You are so obvious and hide the key under the mat. Thought you were slick painting it black to match but I’ve seen you use it before. Everyone has been worried sick about you—me included. You could’ve let me know if you were sick; I would have been over a lot sooner,” he noticed how disappointed she sounded in him, and he felt sorry that he made her worry. But he didn’t want her help. If she were to get sick, he would feel so guilty. He didn’t want her to feel shitty like he did.

It took a lot more energy to get out of bed than he thought it would when he heard her sweet voice calling for him beyond the quiet space between sleeping and dreaming. He opened his mouth to speak but she shushed him before a syllable could leave his lips. “Uh-buh-uh. No talking. I’m serious. Text it,” she offered handing her phone to him.

This is the first day I’ve been able to get out of bed in three days. My voice has been gone for three days.

She read it and nodded. “Doctor?”

He shrugged. I’ve had it before. She nodded again.

“Alright. Well...soup it is,” she said standing. Harry grabbed her arm before she was out of reach. The exertion did feel like a lot.

He shook his head. You don’t have to do that. I don’t want you to get sick.

She rolled her eyes. “Well, I don’t want you to be sick. No one has made me breakfast in three days,” she reminded him. He smiled despite himself. “Do you have medicine?” She asked. He looked at her phone ready to type out that he didn’t, but he knew that it would just make her madder. She sighed, distaste evident in her soundless tone and breath. “Alright, I’m going to go get food for soup and medicine. Don’t move, yeah? Drink some water.”

If it wasn’t obvious, Harry had no choice but to obey her.

“Where’s your phone?” He couldn’t remember at all, there was a strong possibility it was dead. “I’ll call it,” she said, and she walked around his house listening for the sound of it. “A-ha!” She sounded triumphant. “You only have a peach for my contact?” She giggled. “You know the emoji is slang for a butt, right?” He rolled his eyes, but the motion hurt his head. He winced again at the pain. “Alright, I’ll lay off the annoyingness,” she smiled sadly. She reached for a charger. “I like this table,” she mumbled as there was a plug built into the top of it, so it was easy for her to plug his phone in. “I’ll be right back, but text me if you need something.”

His voice was gone. He looked exhausted from lack of sleep because he couldn’t stop coughing. She made herself at home in his place. She made him homemade soup and he realized he had never had any of her cooking beyond anything she chose to bake and share with the town.

Within an hour he was eating hot soup it felt like heaven on his throat. She sat at one end of the sofa slurping broth and scrolling through her phone and Harry couldn’t help but feel like she belonged in his personal space. It felt so right. He sets his soup aside for a moment. Feeling a little more aware and awake with food in his system.

Not to mention it was fucking delicious.

This is really good, thank you. I didn’t know you could cook...Why don’t you make your own breakfast?

“I wouldn’t get to bug you every day,” she smiled so sweetly and fluttered her lashes at him. He rolled his eyes, and it didn’t hurt this time. “Do you want me to make my own breakfast?”

He answered too quickly. No. That’s not what I mean.

“So, you would miss me?”

He sighed and even though he was sick, she could feel his exasperation as he stared at her with an irritated expression. But it’s one that she loved. She loved his grumpy face because no matter how grumpy he appeared; she could see the smile hiding in his eyes. Every single time. And she’d look into those green eyes for the rest of her life and see those hidden smiles if it meant she could be friends with Harry for forever.

No. I would miss... he paused while trying to finish the sentence before holding his phone out to her to read. annoying someone.

She smiled brightly. “Yeah? That so?”

He nodded.

“Well, you don’t annoy me. So maybe I will make my own breakfast from now on.”

He frowned. The expression on his face changed. It was a bit forlorn. His eyes don’t have the same smile as she could spot a mile away. He knew she was kidding but was he... hurt? By her teasing? He really would miss her?

He didn’t think he would have to say it, but...seeing her every day since she moved to town five years ago...and then...not seeing her? It would hurt. Don’t be like that. I’m sick.

Her laughter filled his little apartment, and he never felt so much adoration for someone. “Don’t worry. I don’t own a coffee maker—you won’t get rid of me that easily.”

Something occurred to him in that moment, and he didn’t want to ask, but he would feel bad if he didn’t. Travis... doesn’t mind you’re here?

She smiled sadly. “Travis didn’t last long. I’m all yours, Harry,” she gave his knee a squeeze and headed to the kitchen to continue being an angel or something more for him.

He smiled and rather enjoyed having someone take care of him for a change.

Or maybe it was just because it was Peach taking care of him.

The following morning, Harry felt a lot better. His throat still ached but it wasn’t as bad as the previous days.

Then Harry realized very quickly that there was noise coming from the diner. A lot of noise. The kind of noise that only the early morning rush could muster. And laughter.

So much laughter that Harry honest to God felt happy, nostalgic, and like laughing for the first time in a really long time. He imagined waking up and hearing the very same kind of happiness and laughter from the other room before he bolted to find his mum and the entire town existing and enjoying the morning breakfast routine.

But then he figured maybe Peach had knocked the sign off when she came in with arms full of food and medicine yesterday and people were waiting for breakfast thinking that he was up and at ‘em again. He put on clothes as quickly as he could with his head feeling like a balloon still. He hurried to see what the commotion was because it seemed weird that everyone would be in the diner when he distinctly had it closed, and he wasn’t there.

When he entered, everyone stared at him. “How are you feeling Harry?” Alice asked.

He blinked in surprise at everyone eating and chatting as if it were normal to be there without Harry. “How did—”

“Hi Harry!”

Ah.

She appeared from the kitchen carrying plates of food and settling them on the tables as she passed. She marched right up to Harry after and pressed her hand to his forehead. If he wasn’t already flushed from being ill, his cheeks would have turned red as everyone witnessed her touching him. No one ever touched Harry. No hugs, no high fives, nothing.

But of course, she was different. Perhaps everyone knew that. They kept their smiles to themselves, and she grinned. “I hope you don’t mind. I told everyone I can make bacon, eggs, home fries, and toast without setting the place on fire. But everyone was missing you and the diner.”

There wasn’t a chance in hell these nice, sweet people missed his grumpy self. They were here for her. Someone who didn’t grow up here but acted like she did. “Can I make you something? I’ll make you tea!” She decided and pulled him toward the counter seat, her counter seat. She hurried behind the counter and busied herself with a mug and hot water. “How do you feel?” She asked.

“Good,” he cleared his throat and winced at the feeling.

She pouted. “Maybe you should go back to bed.”

And miss the delightful show she was putting on? Running his diner as if she did this every day? No way. Was everyone as floored about this as he was? Probably not. They probably knew that Harry loved her in such a way that he never loved anyone else in this town.

Harry reached for the sugar and cream behind the counter, and she smacked his hand away and winked, placing the little plate in front of him. “I can make you eggs,” she offered her fingers touching the moon on her neck. “Are you okay?” She asked.

He nodded and she gave his hand a gentle squeeze before heading off toward the grill.

“Miss Peach any chance you could make those blueberry muffins of yours?”

“Oh! That’s an excellent idea, Ed! Let me get Harry some breakfast and I’ll get right on it!” She called from behind the kitchen.

Harry decided that he might love being sick.

But really, he knew it was just that he was in love.

1d1195

The Lottery III

Read The Lottery here | ~4k words

From me: takes place during her second year in town. It's Christmas time 🎄

Warnings: fluffy

Summary: It's truly embarrassing how smitten Harry is with her.

“Please, please, please!”

“No,” his voice was solid, flat, devoid of emotion. Impervious to her pleading it seemed.

She frowned and looked at him with a look that Harry assumed was supposed to be menacing. But it looked about as menacing as a baby bunny could be. “Harry Styles, people will think you’re The Grinch.”

“They already think that, Peach,” he rolled his eyes and moved to the next table check that the ketchup wasn’t completely depleted.

“Then I’ll think you’re The Grinch.”

That seemed to do something to his brain because he paused running around the diner. He looked at her with the same irritation that he always directed at her. The kind that made him annoyed because she wanted two different pancakes. Or that she didn’t wear the proper coat in the snow. Or that her tires needed to be replaced on her car, but she didn’t mind (refused to replace them) because she wasn’t driving very far these days and really, it wasn’t that big of a deal because it probably wasn’t going to snow in the remainder of that March.

Harry shook his head, remembering he was supposed to answer her. “Peach,” he sighed and rubbed his face. “I’ll look ridiculous.” There was no one else in the diner. It was nearly five in the morning. Much too early to have this conversation and even earlier to be having an argument.

But Harry thought she looked so cute. Cold but bright-eyed. “Well, that’s why I came now to ask. No one will know it’s you. We’ll park your car at my house, and you’ll tell everyone you have an appointment in the city. You’ll look unrecognizable.”

He stared at her for another moment before he turned to the coffee pot that he was brewing to make it cold for her. She was hours too early so it wouldn’t be cold. Her last pitcher was used up yesterday. Which only made him grumpier that he didn’t have what she liked. On top of being asked to do her ridiculous task. The silence was deafening. She smiled sweetly at him. “I’ll order regular pancakes for a week,” she offered.

He rolled his eyes. Maybe because he knew that he would still make her stupid pancakes and two omelets if she asked. “If anyone finds out s’me, I’ll tell them y’drugged me, Peach.”

“That’s very reasonable. While I’m asking for things, is it possible, I could borrow your oven for cookies and your coffee burners for hot chocolate?” She batted those pretty eyelashes at him, and he wondered just how obvious it was to her that he would do anything she asked of him.

“Y’know... I don’t do the whole town celebration thing,” he reminded her turning back to the coffee pot because if he looked at her any longer, he was going to tell her everything and this was not the time nor the place. She also wasn’t someone he wanted to know all his dark secrets. She was the one person that didn’t look at him with pity and he wanted that to remain true for as long as he could manage.

She frowned. “Well, I do,” which made next to no sense because at the time of asking she had only lived through one town Christmas—kind of. She wasn’t part of the traditions at all but somehow inserted herself into helping as much as she could. “No one will know it’s you,” she reminded him. “And I know you want to help,” she shrugged casually. “Can our pancake deal start tomorrow I’m desperate for peaches and white chocolate chips,” she dropped into her seat.

He didn’t answer, but he assumed she knew he was putty in her hands. “Coffee’s not cold yet,” he grumbled pouring her a hot cup.

“That’s okay, you don’t have to make me cold coffee anyway,” she shrugged and reached over the counter for the sugar and cream only for Harry to smack it away as was their own little tradition. “Oh!” She squealed and hopped out of her seat rushing out the front door as if she saw a ghost.

Harry blinked and hurried after her in case there was some kind of issue or if she saw something troublesome that would get her killed or kidnapped. Not that anything of the sort ever happened in their little town. But leave it to her to find something dangerous. “What—”

Her head was tilted nearly at a sharp forty-five-degree angle looking at the moon, dipping lower in the sky. Some of the stars were still out, and the sky was just starting to turn the slightest light blue. “Isn’t she pretty?” She sighed dreamily. Harry felt a warmth spread through his chest. The same kind that did any time she had him look at the moon. The awe, the fascination, the unadulterated innocence on her face made his heart skip a beat.

“Yeah, Peach, s’lovely,” he agreed and waited twenty seconds to let her stare. “S’cold out,” he reminded her because she of course didn’t put her coat back on for this expedition. Gently, he placed his hand on her lower back. “C’mon,” he encouraged. “I gotta make y’some pancakes.”

Harry swore she continued looking over her shoulder as he ushered her inside which just made him fall a little harder for her.

The day of the town’s Christmas festival Harry did what she said. He talked about his appointment in the city (that he didn’t have) all morning. When nearly everyone he ever knew was in town, he drove his car to her house where no one would notice it was there. He dressed in a red suit, and she drove him over in her own car dressed in an elf ensemble. Had Harry known she had a part to play he may have agreed a little faster. She was adorable, the shoes curled into a swirl at the toes, she was decked in red and green from head to toe and sure Santa was a symbol of Christmas but she was the near embodiment of it as well.

The second she stepped out of the car after all the little ones shouted excitedly for Santa, she pulled up the rear carrying a bag of candy canes over her shoulder.

“Miss Peach! You’re an elf too!?” Someone called when they realized the bookstore owner was in tow with Santa himself.

“You know Santa?!”

She giggled as Harry threw his voice and laughed at the little ones in awe over the pretty girl. They were right to be in awe. She was lovely. Making this happen. Picking someone certifiably Grinch-like. Yet he did it anyway.

“Santa’s sleigh is being fixed a couple towns over, so I picked him up and he was so grateful he agreed to come say hi to everyone! One of the elves gave me a costume to borrow for the day,” she explained. “Santa is going to see if he can get everything you all want, if you’ve been good.”

So, Harry took his seat on a chair that was much too poofy and frilly. It was set among a huge sack of mini presents, a mailbox for letters, and she dumped her bag of candy canes into a bucket. There were cookies and hot chocolate at the table beside the setup, run by her employees, curtesy of Harry’s oven and coffee maker. She stood beside Harry the whole afternoon as so many little ones came to tell Santa what they wanted.

What was worse was it was fun. Harry actually enjoyed being Santa. The little ones were so funny, and she was adorable dressed in her little get up. “Miss Peach,” one little boy whispered toward the end of their little event. He waved her over several yards away from Santa’s chair.

Naturally, she hurried over, leaving Harry with a pair of nine-year-old girls who wanted a lot of makeup and dolls. She greeted his parents who smiled knowingly at the cute bookstore owner with a little baby in a stroller beside the boy who waved her over.

“Is that the real Santa?” He asked gulping.

She smiled. “I got him off the sleigh and everything.”

He looked down nervously. She knew him from her story hours and going to the bookstore to do crafts related to the book of the week. “I’m kind of scared of Santa, Miss Peach,” he whispered.

“Oh,” she pouted. “There’s nothing to be scared of,” she whispered. “He’s very nice and just wants to know what you want for Christmas.”

“Will you go with me?” He asked.

She nodded and held his hand. “Hey Santa, Caden here is a little nervous,” she told Harry. Behind the hat, wig, glasses, a white beard and a firm pillow tucked into his shirt, it was next to impossible to know it was Harry.

How anyone couldn’t tell those pretty green eyes belonged to someone other than Harry was ridiculous to her, but whatever. She was eternally grateful he was doing this for her. Honestly, she couldn’t fathom why he would do it for her, but she wasn’t going to question it long enough for him to back out.

There was a kind smile beneath the white beard and mustache. One that she had only seen a handful of times. When it appeared on his face in the diner it was nearly always hidden from view—but every once in a while, she would see his pink lips turn up in a genuine smile. Happy over a joke someone made. Or how a little one told Miss Peach they had a crush on her.

She wondered if Caden knew how lucky they were to witness such a soft, beautiful sight. “S’that so?” He chuckled.

Caden tucked himself behind her leg and she bent to scoop the six-year-old into her arms. “Santa is a good friend of mine, he just wants to make sure you get what you want,” she assured him. “Do you want me to tell him?” She asked stepping closer toward Harry. He hid his face against her shoulder. Gently, she stroked the back of his head. “I used to be scared of Santa too,” she whispered. “But we’re friends now, right Santa?” She asked glancing over. Harry nodded, waiting patiently. Letting her do her thing. “Here,” she walked to Harry, wedged herself between Harry’s legs and perched on his thigh, stretching her own legs out so she wasn’t putting her full weight on his body. She sat Caden on her lap facing her and Harry.

Poor Caden looked like he was about to have a breakdown.

Harry knew what Caden was feeling almost at the exact same time. Other than a touch on her back or smacking her hand away, Harry hardly ever touched her. Now, her whole pretty butt was on his thigh. Had he known this would have happened, he wouldn’t have argued with her at all. She was so casual about it, as if she sat herself in his lap all the time. How was this not a moment in time that caused for absolute shock for her? Was he breathing? It felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Hey,” she smiled sweetly, encouragingly. “I’m right here, tell us about what you want Santa to bring,” she ran a hand across his cheek. “Do you want... a Lego set?” She asked. He glanced up shyly at Santa and nodded. Harry smiled behind his beard reassuringly. “And a skateboard?” She continued guessing what a little boy his age would want. He nodded again. “And... a unicorn stuffie?” She smirked.

He frowned and shook his head. Which made the two of them laugh. “My sister likes unicorns, not me,” he told them. Harry nodded.

“So, a skateboard for you and a unicorn for—” Without missing a beat, Harry watched her mouth the name of the younger sibling. “Lily.”

“You know Lily?” He asked, pure wonder in his eyes. Staring up at Harry like he was the most amazing person in the world. Harry did think he was the Grinch because his heart truly melted and it was all thanks to the pretty, peachie girl.

“Santa knows everything,” she whispered. “Can you say thank you?”

“Thank you... Santa?” Caden asked, hopping down from her lap and turning bravely toward him. She stepped away from his legs which made him feel cold and grumpy again. But he remembered to stay focused on Caden.

“Yes, lad?” Caden ushered him closer waving his hand toward him. Harry leaned down further so Caden could whisper in his ear.

“Can you help me get a present for Miss Peach?”

Harry looked at her as she gathered a candy cane, a cookie, a present, and a cup of hot chocolate for Caden to take. “Absolutely.”

When Santa left, Harry magically returned with his car and headed to the diner to check on things. “You missed all the fun Harry,” she sighed stepping behind the counter and heading for the coffee pots filled with hot water for her hot chocolate stand. “I brought Santa in and everything.”

He narrowed his eyes at her and stuck his arm out to stop her. “Did he tell you he was bring y’coal?” he rolled his eyes and turned her physically by her shoulders before she reached the coffee pots. “Get out,” he said.

“Miss Peach getting coal?” Edith laughed. “Harry, don’t be ridiculous.”

She smiled, a knowing smirk on her lips. “Can I please have more hot water for hot chocolate?” She asked.

He sighed, like it was a big to do. But he did it anyway. She was getting really good at reading his eyes. She could see the slight amusement. Or what she hoped was amusement. Maybe it was just more annoyance, but the light shining a little differently in his irises. “I’ll keep it coming,” he shrugged and handed her two of the coffee pots.

“You are like Santa himself,” she grinned and carefully walked out with the hot liquid. Someone held the door for her and Harry headed to the kitchen, smirking once he was behind the cover of the wall away from the rest of the diner.

Christmas morning in a small town was unlike anything she had ever experienced. It was literally a Hallmark movie. There was a thin layer of snow on the ground. Against the lights it was the stuff of dreams. She walked through the quiet town, her second one in town but the first one she had ever spent away from her family.

“Peach?” Harry called. He was taking a bag out behind the diner to the trash. The door to the back was open to what she imagined was his apartment. She heard it was attached to the diner, but she had never seen beyond it.

She gave a wave and walked toward him. “Merry Christmas, Harry!” She chirped and dove in for a hug. Harry awkwardly wrapped his arms around her and despite his awkwardness, it felt like the best Christmas present he had ever received.

“Merry Christmas,” he hummed. “I thought y’were heading t’your family’s place for the holiday?”

“I did last year, but I thought I would try and start my own traditions. They’re going to be down this weekend actually.”

“Make sure y’bring them by,” he reminded her.

She smiled. “How about you? Any traditions?”

Traditions hadn’t been part of Harry’s vocabulary in ages. But Gemma was coming and that made him immensely happy. Well, as happy as someone as grumpy as he could be. “M’sister is coming around lunch time. I do a Christmas brunch, and a lot of people stop by.”

“Oh, that’s really lovely,” she grinned. “I’m sure you’re busy then and I don’t want to keep you. Have a happy—”

“You’re invited,” he practically blurted. She blinked, surprise coloring her pretty face.

But she recovered quickly and the smile on her mouth returned and made Harry think that even if he never touched her again, he could settle for a smile directed at her. “Really?” She asked. “I don’t want to mess with tradition.”

But that was far from the truth because she had already inserted herself into so many town projects and made the town so much better just by existing. Not to mention she got him to dress as Santa. Tradition flew out the window the moment she stepped foot in the diner.

“S’a whole town thing.”

“Well then, I really have to run because I cannot show up empty handed. Muffins or cupcakes?”

“Y’don’t have to—”

“I’ll make both unless you tell me.”

Harry rolled his eyes and her stubbornness. “Muffins, Peach. Thank you.”

“Christmas looks good on you, Santa,” she nodded. “You’ve got the best smile, Harry,” she waved and headed back the way she came.

Her mom always hosted parties and if she didn’t then it was a neighbor, Grandma, or aunt. She became a makeshift hostess and always tried to make herself useful. The second she walked into the diner she was greeted with cheers and Merry Christmases. Honestly, other than it being a holiday and the garland draped around the place, it was no different than walking into the diner any other day. She scurried to the counter where all the food was lining it, the warmers keeping the food hot, just waiting to be devoured. She could hear noise from the kitchen. Without thinking much longer, she stepped behind the counter, set her muffins toward the end of the line of food, and began gathering the plates and silverware to put at the beginning of the line.

The moment he heard clinking, he stepped from the kitchen. “What the he—”

“Oh hi,” she chirped over her shoulder. “Just making myself useful.”

“You’re not supposed to be behind the counter.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s Christmas and I’m helping.”

“I like her,” a woman stepped from behind the kitchen wall as well and smiled with a wave. “I’m Gemma,” she said. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas. Harry’s sister?”

“The one and only,” she had the same pretty smile that Harry did. She wondered who they inherited from. But the smile seemed much more natural on Gemma’s face than Harry’s.

“Peach,” he rubbed a hand over his face. “If y’get hurt, m’insurance doesn’t cover annoying pains in the butt.”

“What a nice thing to say on Christmas,” Gemma rolled her eyes. “How many times did you come back here when Mum told us not to?” Harry turned to the kitchen before he could answer.

She frowned. “I just wanted to help.”

“Don’t worry about it, Harry is just a grump,” she shrugged. “Thank you for the help,” she grinned sweetly. “I’m going to bring Mr. Sour out again but please make yourself at home,” she assured.

People chatted with Gemma for most of the time they ate. She helped Harry carry food out from the kitchen even though he grunted at her in annoyance each time she picked something up. She ignored him making a plate for both herself, and Harry. “Harry come eat,” she held the plates of food in her hands. “Everyone is good for the moment, and you deserve it,” she told him.

He sighed as he always did. Like talking to her was getting a splinter taken out of his hand. He grabbed the plates from her and walked toward the side of the diner where there were two seats open. “Miss Peach, these muffins are delicious!”

She grinned. “Thank you, an old family recipe,” she said sweetly and plucked a piece of bacon from her plate. Harry headed back to the kitchen and she pouted but he returned quickly holding a cup of coffee for her, cooled and iced as always. “Thank you.” Harry sat across from her eating silently, but it was comfortable. Peaceful even. The chatter around them was comforting. “You do this every year?” She asked. He nodded. “It’s nice, Harry, thank you for inviting me,” she grinned. He didn’t look up from his food, but he nodded again, and she was certain the corners of his mouth twitched in an upwards direction.

Harry was dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans and a dark green button down. It brought out the gold specks in his eyes and enhanced how green they were in general. It was her favorite look on him. Given he only seemed to have about six or so shirts in total. His hair was styled just so, so it wouldn’t fall in his face. “Let me get a picture of you and Gemma.”

“No,” he shook his head sipping his orange juice.

“Oh, come on, Harry. She’s your sister.”

He shook his head. “I don’t do pictures.”

She rolled her eyes. “Gemma, would you like a picture with Harry?” She called across the room.

“God, would I!” She hurried over and wrapped her arms around his neck from behind. She kissed the side of his face and he rolled his eyes but the smile was a little harder to hide that time around. She pulled her phone from her pocket and held it out to get a picture of the siblings.

“Say Merry Christmas!”

Harry smiled, genuinely. Which made her utterly happy. Gemma kissed his cheek again. “I love you, little brother.”

He shook his head as she hurried back to her conversation across the room. Harry cleared his throat and reached into his pocket pulling out a small box, wrapped perfectly, and slid it across the table toward her.

Of course, her gifts for everyone in town that had made her feel so welcomed were at her house. She planned on giving them out at the diner the following morning. Let the day be about family. So she was unprepared and felt terrible that she had nothing for Harry.

But she was also so shocked she simply gaped. “Harry,” she managed. “I don’t—”

“S’not a big deal,” he shrugged. “Caden... he wanted t’make sure y’got a gift. I asked him t’help me pick it out. Told him Santa left a note here since he knows y’here a lot,” he explained. “S’really from Caden.” But it wasn’t. Not really. It was from Harry. The grumpy diner owner who made her pancakes, gave her a hard time because she was a nuisance. “Go on,” he encouraged. She pulled the paper off, revealing a small brown box.

“Your gift is at home,” she told him.

“Y’didn’t need t’get me anything,” he rolled his eyes.

“Of course I did, Harry—”

“Will y’jus’ open it, Peach? Y’making it a huge deal and honestly, s’hardly anything.”

She opened the lid and inside was a square piece of cardboard. A delicate chain draped along the middle of it, holding the small crescent moon charm at the center of a pair of matching earrings. “Harry,” she brushed her finger on the charm. “This is too much,” she frowned knowing that he probably spent way too much on someone who was a pain in his ass.

“Y’do a lot for this town,” he shrugged. “S’the least Caden could do.”

She tilted her head at him. “Thank you,” she plucked the necklace off the cardboard and quickly secured it around her neck. Her ears already had Christmas presents jingling and dangling from the lobes, but the necklace looked delicate and pretty against the top of her shirt. “I’ll bring your gift tomorrow.”

“Whatever helps y’sleep at night, Peach. Y’want more food?” He asked standing and grabbing her plate at the same time.

She played with the charm at the base of her throat and nodded. “Please," she wondered if Harry was aware of how much she truly liked him. How sweet he really was despite the front he put up in front of everyone else. But she supposed for today, since it was Christmas, she would let him play his grumpy self and enjoy the thoughtful gift he bought for her and the yummy food he made.

She hoped this tradition would stick around every year.

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

@straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals

@angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams

@summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland

@lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles

@tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr @crossyourpeter

@kissitnhekitchen @boopookie @stylesfever @indierockgirrl @michellekstyles

@just-another-reader1098 @hermionelove @tiredinwinter @whimsy-willows @hannah9921

@fangirl7060 @triski73 @vikiii07 @prettygurl-2009 @mads3502

@angeldavis777 @tchlamqtsgf @lizsogolden @me-undiscovered @you-sunshine

@rose-girls-world @claimingharrystigertattoo @inlikea-coolway @theseaview @lunaharrygurl

@emmie2308 @fruity-harry @somebunnybaby @avas-queen-black

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #grumpy!harry x sunshine!reader #harry styles x reader #one direction #one direction writing #love at first sight!harry #the lottery

26 notes · View notes