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kmgkmg · 2 years ago

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GOOD RIDDANCE, A NEW TIME - JOSHUA HONG

word count: 4.7k... (my longest fic yet!!)

pairing: joshua x gn!reader x jihoon (for the first half)

synopsis: it’s the start of the new year and you’re spending it with a wildly attractive stranger in a leather jacket.

genre/s: angst (for the first half), fluff, non-idol!au

warnings: alcohol mention, cheating mention, angst

rating: pg-13

a/n: my first joshua fic! i hope y’all enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it :D!! this is another submission for k-vanity’s season’s greetings event! theme: formal, accessories/extras: new years eve, holiday party, resolutions, transition. the title comes from the song good riddance, a new time by laica!

“You have got to be kidding me, Y/N.” Jihoon sighs, his irritation quickly becoming evident.

“Aren’t we supposed to get off two stops from now?” You ask your boyfriend, confusingly looking at your phone and the maps app that was open.

“No! We should’ve gotten off at the stop the driver just drove past.” He slid back into his seat, beginning to tap his foot impatiently.

Who would’ve thought that your navigation app would misguide you, but you could tell that your boyfriend’s anger was growing by the second and nearly going to burst. The other occupants of the bus were looking at both of you, causing you to nervously look down at your phone and the incorrect directions once again. You wished that you could explain that his loud voice towards you wasn’t a regular thing to the people watching, but you knew that would only upset him more. Jihoon was always pretty understanding when it came to you, but lately he became snappy. You figured he had been more susceptible to emotional outbursts since he was rushing to meet the deadline for producing a new singer’s album, so you could only look at him apologetically and press the button to alert the bus driver that you wanted to get off at the next stop.

You had persuaded him with much effort to attend the New Years Eve party your mutual friend, Soonyoung, was throwing, hoping it would be the most opportune time for him to destress. It’s understandable to be upset, you thought to yourself. Especially when you were the cause of the two of you to be running late. You had recently bought a washer and dryer, sick of needing to visit the laundromat when the nearest one was a forty minute bus ride away. The problem with these new appliances is that the outfit you planned to wear for the party was still damp when Jihoon informed you that he was waiting in your apartment complex’s lobby. You still find it comical how you found anything and everything that matched Soonyoung’s party theme of ‘New Beginnings’, before haphazardly selecting articles of clothing.

The bus takes a slight turn to the right and abruptly stops, indicating that it was your stop to get off. You’re torn from your thoughts of earlier and look beside you, only to see Jihoon’s spot was vacant. He was already at the bus’ door and asking the driver to open the exit. You frown, unused to him ignoring you, but regardless get up from your seat and leave the bus. Promptly putting on a smile, you hurriedly try to catch up to Jihoon, who was walking at an overwhelmingly fast pace. He was busy on his phone, probably texting Soonyoung to inform him that you would be late.

“How good do you think the music will be this year? Last year’s music was awful, but I feel like that was because Chan ordered a random local DJ to perform. At least Hansol is going to be in control today.” You try to start conversation, cautiously glancing at his expression and attempting to read the mood between the two of you.

Silence fills the air as he continues to walk at his hasty pace, before he finally looks up from his screen, exciting you for the potential interest you sparked.

“Why would I care about music when I’m not working? God Y/N, you are so dense.” His tired expression and monotonous tone leave you flustered, resulting in another apology, yet this time it was quietly muttered. Silence suddenly fell onto the two of you again and the rest of the walk was finished with the complete absence of words.

The music can be heard nearly a block away, but the familiar tunes of popular songs amongst your friend group causes you to feel a bit more at ease with yourself and the night. The queue to get into the club was snaking around the corner and you felt extremely grateful that your friends had rented out a section of the venue. Jihoon gives the bouncer your names and the worker checks their list before nodding and letting you both enter. Walking in Jihoon makes a beeline for the bar, leaving you alone once again. Sighing, you start to search for Soonyoung’s reserved table by yourself and prepare yourself for a stressful night.

You hear a voice that you’re accustomed to before you feel an arm sling around your shoulders. “Y/N, the one and only! My favorite fellow moodmaker is finally here, and with Producer Woozi!” Seungkwan slurringly shouts to express his joy at your arrival, before grabbing your shoulders with each of his hands to look you straight in the eyes. His face turns serious and you prepare for what he’s going to say before he hiccups, “You know we love you, right?”

You laugh at his drunken antics and hug him, before nearly jumping out of your skin at the sound of another familiar voice behind the two of you.

“Jihoon finally decided to take a break from his work and we have you to thank for that.” Breaking from your hug with the intoxicated Seungkwan, you turn around and see Seungcheol waving at you with a smirk grin. He told the group chat that he wasn’t going to be able to attend since he would be abroad when the party was going to happen, so his appearance was entirely unexpected. But he loved surprising you guys and he had successfully done just that. You enthusiastically wave back at your friend, having your mood drastically improve from earlier when you were alone with Jihoon.

“Where is he by the way?” Seungcheol asks and Seungkwan’s arched eyebrows prove that he was equally as curious to know where their other friend was. You point to the bar, expecting him to be there, and he was sitting near the end, already having three empty glasses in front of him.

His presence was intimidating enough to make you all aware that you should leave him alone for the time being. Sensing your regained sadness, Seungkwan looks to Seungcheol and points with his head to the dancefloor.

Noticing Seungkwan’s hint, Seungcheol begins to ask if you’d wanna dance together but is discouraged to finish his sentence when you sit back on one of the club’s sofas. Wonwoo, who has been keeping you company, gives the guys an urgent look to lift your spirits. The three of them look at each other and shrug, unsure of what to do with the awkward tension between their friend group’s favorite couple, you and Jihoon. As if on cue, Hansol turns on one of your favorite songs and your ears perk up and eyes sparkle as if you were a kid who just got gifted their favorite candy.

“No way, did one of you tell Hansol to play this? I love you guys!” You were easy to satisfy and your three friends thanked Hansol and fate for playing the song at the right time. You run to the dance floor, making sure to motion for your friends to follow you and soon enough the four of you were dancing and enjoying yourselves to the beat of the song.

The party ended up being more fun than you originally thought it would be and although you arrived at 8:30, three hours had passed in the blink of an eye. The clock was ticking, time was dwindling, and in thirty minutes it would officially be a new year. A while ago you stopped dancing and you noticed that Jihoon was still sitting at the bar with one more empty glass. Making your way over to the bar, you gently placed your hand on top of his as he maintained a blank expression on his face.

“Babe, did you say hi to Seungcheol yet? He fooled all of us and actually showed up tonight!” You inform your boyfriend, laughing at how surprised you were.

“Yeah, he came over some time ago.” He replied simply.

“Oh nice!” You smile at him, taking a seat and ordering a mocktail since you didn’t really want to drink when Jihoon had already drank multiple drinks.

“3…2…1… Happy New Year!” The whole club erupted into cheers as people began to kiss whoever was next to them, a tradition that you always found to be one of the cutest.

“Happy New Year!” You exclaim, leaning towards Jihoon to kiss him, only for him to turn away from you. Confused, but blaming it on the alcohol in his system you put a hand on his cheek, you then tried to go in for a more lighthearted kiss on the cheek, but he still dodged your affection.

“Stop, Y/N. Let’s break up.”

His words hit you like arrows piercing through your heart and the music felt deafening now. “You’re drunk, I’ll take you back to your place and we can talk in the morning when you’re sober.” You reason, struggling to conceal the hurt that he had caused you to feel throughout the night.

He turns back towards you, with an alarmingly scary expression. “You know my tolerance is high. I’m serious, Y/N, I don’t want to be with you anymore. I’ve been seeing someone else for about two months, we really aren’t compatible.”

“You’ve been cheating on me?” Tears begin to well up in your eyes and you find yourself standing up from the seat you were positioned in next to him.

“Don’t act like you aren’t all over our friends, instead of being with me this whole time you’ve been hanging out with them.”

His reply leaves you speechless, dumbfounded even. “How is hugging my friends who I’ve known for years, able to be compared to you cheating on me? I wouldn’t have needed to spend time with them if I had an attentive boyfriend. I never expected you to be fully energized going to this event, but I surely didn’t anticipate that you would give me the cold-shoulder for the entirety of the night either. You didn’t even wait for me to get off the bus together, Jihoon.”

“Well, I’ve made this decision a long time ago. We aren’t together anymore.” He shakes his head, irritated at your futile attempts to salvage your relationship.

“You really think relationships can be ended unilaterally?” You whimper, turning into a mess because of his damaging words.

“So you’re going to force me to stay with you? What type of relationship is that, Y/N? Relationships do end unilaterally all the time, it’s called getting dumped.” He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated that you weren’t giving up as easily as he predicted. Almost as if he had timed it, a girl walks to him and interlocks her arm with his and whispers something in his ear, arousing a laugh from him. “Are you starting to comprehend the situation better, Y/N?” He triumphantly asks you, making it the final nail in the coffin. Your sadness is now mixed with anger, and he walks off with the unidentified girl, once again leaving you alone.

You stand by yourself, reflecting on all that had happened and it all transpired when it was still less than fifteen minutes into the new year. “Wow, alright.”

You can sense that your friends were watching the whole scene play out and you couldn’t help but feel uneasy at the thought of being soothed by them. You know that this break up wouldn’t break up your friendship with the other guys, especially since you had introduced some of them to Jihoon, but knowing that didn’t make the fresh heartbreak hurt any less. You needed to get away from this club, away from Jihoon. Granted he wasn’t in your eyes’ sight, but you weren’t about to risk the chance of seeing his tongue down some girl’s throat.

You walk out of the club, having friends call out for you to come back inside. You knew it wasn’t smart to go out by yourself, especially since it was cold and late at night, but being in the club was too painful. How could Jihoon be so cruel? Thoughts racing in your head, you find yourself experiencing intense dizziness. Swiftly, you sit on the outside steps of a nearby building, putting your head in your hands to calm down. Panting can be heard from two people and you know they’re your friends. Sitting on the steps near you, you prepare yourself for whatever pep talk they thought of.

“Y/N, please come back inside.” Seungkwan begs as Wonwoo puts your coat over your shoulders and begins to rub your back.

“I don’t want to go back and see him.” You state, defeated.

Wonwoo and Seungkwan exchange looks, unable to figure out how to make you feel better. “At least let one of us drive you back to your place. Or we can take the bus with you back?” Wonwoo proposes, causing you to feel slightly warmer at the extent to which your friends cared for you.

“I’ll be better, I just need some time to myself. I have a pretty full battery for my phone and I can keep in contact with y’all throughout the night to ensure I’m safe. I had no drinks tonight, you know I’m responsible. Go, have fun at the party Hansol is DJing at.” You manage to lift your head from your hands and smile softly at the two friends in your view.

They sympathetically looked at you, understanding you wanted to be alone. “Okay, we’ll respect what you want, but if anything happens don’t hesitate to call any of us. We are all on your side, I can’t believe he would do that, and today of all days. The fucking audacity he has.” Seungkwan accepts your plans for the night and huffs in exasperation at Jihoon’s actions.

“Sounds good, thank you guys. Really.” You say before watching as they walked back in the direction of the club’s loud music.

Hearing three guys chat with each other, you continue staring at the pavement of the stairs. “Dude, we know your birthday is always overshadowed by New Years but we should still go have fun! It’s only a little past two, the night is ours.”

You overhear their conversation, not meaning to eavesdrop, but they were right in front of you and definitely weren’t whispering. You stayed quiet, hoping they would eventually walk away until noticing one of them wearing converse with small four leaf clovers painted on the white front part. “Oh, is it my lucky day then?” You chuckle to yourself, fed up with the irony of seeing such a sign, unaware of how loud your rhetorical question came out of your mouth.

Amused at the comment on his shoes, Joshua motions for his friends to stop talking for a minute, taking in the image of you on his apartment’s stairs, looking about as rough of a condition that he felt. He figured asking if you felt alright was a question doomed for failure, anyone could tell how dejected you are. Instead, he decided to be straightforward.

“What happened?”

You’re surprised that four leaf clover shoes is talking to you, and even more surprised when you look up and see three insanely unrealistic attractive men in front of you. The one in the center being four leaf clover shoes, wearing a leather jacket that only added to his hotness factor. But then again, it’s late at night and stranger danger is always a good code to live by.

“Who, who are you?” You countered instead of answering his question. The three guys look at each other before grasping the situation and realizing they must’ve looked intimidating to you.

“Sorry,” the four leaf clover shoes apologizes, “this is Jeonghan,” he introduces the guy on his right, “this is Mingyu,” he introduces the guy on his left, and finishes with himself, “and I’m Joshua. I live in the building that you’re currently sitting on the steps of.” His explanation of why he was on the steps with you instantly makes you jump up onto your feet, before stumbling at the dizziness that hadn’t diminished since you left the club.

Joshua’s amusement quickly becomes worry as he catches you from nearly tripping down the stairs. Tonight was truly not your night, he thinks to himself.

Mingyu tries to stifle his laugh before carelessly commenting, “Woah, someone must’ve had a lot of drinks tonight.” He didn’t mean for his sloppy judgment of you to be said out loud, but he had a few drinks already and was way beyond the tipsy state. Still, he knew well enough to recognize when he messed up and covered his mouth with his hands, clearly remorseful at his inner thoughts coming out. His clumsiness wasn’t anything new, but it still earned him mean looks from Joshua and Jeonghan, never failing to be shocked at their younger friend.

“I actually didn’t have any drinks.” You defend yourself while regaining your composure and leaning on the handrail next to you.

“Well, do you want to be left alone or taken to a nearby hospital to get checked out? Or would you rather go out with us?” Joshua inquires, not realizing that you thought he offered a health checkup and getting drunk in the same breath.

You laugh at the absurdity of the questions being asked, but drinking with them didn’t seem like the worst thing right now. “Sure, I could use a drink.”

Joshua blinks at Jeonghan and Mingyu and they respond with knowing looks, both aware that when Joshua meant go out he meant eat with them at their favorite 24-hour restaurant down the street. Since his birthday was so close to New Years, he never was a huge fan of partying all night. Nevertheless, he didn’t want to casually deny you from drinking, especially when you were feeling the way you were. Their plans were to catch up on the latest season of one of the series on Netflix that everyone had been talking about on social media for the past week, but Netflix can wait. He could sense that you needed companionship right now above everything else.

“Um, what type of drinks are you looking to have?” He starts to ask, before a phone suddenly rings.

Jeonghan pulls his phone out of his jeans pocket and picks up the call, unable to hear his friend past the blaring music of what he assumed to be a club. “Seungcheol? What are you saying, I can’t hear a single word you’re trying to tell me.”

Your eyes darted to the man who stood farther from you to accept his call, not expecting to hear the mention of your friend’s name. “You’re friends with Seungcheol? Choi Seungcheol?”

Now it was Jeonghan’s turn to be surprised as he removed his phone from his ear, “How do you know Seungcheol?”

“He’s my friend! Could you tell him I’m still safe?” You request, happy to know that you had mutual friends with these three strangers.

“Sure,” Jeonghan replies, returning to his phone call with his friend before noticing they never asked what your name was. “What’s your name by the way?”

“Y/N L/N!” You respond, waiting for him to be done with his conversation so you could drink with them.

“Seungcheol, Y/N L/N is with us right now and they’re still safe. They wanted you to know that, I really can’t hear you though. If you need me, or them, just text us.” Jeonghan practically yells into his phone, before ending the call. Exhausted from the unexpected use of his energy, Jeonghan looks at the three of you with a more haggard expression on his face. “I should go pick him up. Whenever he calls me, 99.99% of the time it means that he got hammered and needs me to take care of him.” He groans and the fact that Jeonghan knew Seungcheol’s drunk habits made you feel even more comfortable with the guys in front of you.

“Him and Soonyoung really are the clingiest when they drink, huh?” You agree, nodding to yourself at the thought of your drunk friends.

“How do you know them by the way?” Mingyu asks, confused since he never ran into you at parties or other events.

“I’ve known some of them since high school, others in the friend group I met through Jihoon. It’s easy to get acquainted with your boyfriend’s friends– or should I say ex-boyfriend now, ha.” You explain, turning uncomfortable at the mention of your freshly established ex.

Mingyu makes an ‘O’ shape with his mouth, “You were Jihoon’s partner? They talked about you all the time, when did you change your hair from the ruby color he always talked about?”

Your face twists in confusion, letting the truth of Jihoon cheating on you finally set in. “Oh, that must be the person he was cheating on me with. I’ve had this hair color for the past year.” You grab a strand of your hair while looking at it seemingly unbothered, as the three men in front of you are left flustered by your nonchalant energy.

“Sorry, we should really go pick up Seungcheol, Y/N. Also Jihoon is absolute trash for cheating on you, we’ve only met you tonight but you seem way too good for him.” Jeonghan glares at Mingyu again for speaking before thinking, that was one of his resolutions to fix for the new year. Jeonghan pulled Mingyu down the stairs and waved goodbye to you, leaving the disoriented Joshua alone with you.

A silence fills the air, a limitless amount more comfortable than the silence you experienced with Jihoon earlier in the night. You both begin to speak at the same time, causing an overlap and making both of you laugh at your impeccable timing. “You first.” He offers, but you shake your head and motion for him to speak first.

“Well, where would you wanna go?” He asks.

“Somewhere that you feel at peace.” You stated, hoping your night would get better.

The first place he brought you was a diner about three blocks from the building he lived in. Even though it was New Years Eve weekend and everyone was outside partying, the diner seemed to function in a completely separate dimension. Its interior was a bit barren, making it seem like a prime example of a stock photo when someone would search liminal spaces on the internet. However, being with Joshua the diner still gave off welcoming energy. The heater was also on, warming you up on this cold winter night.

He took the initiative to choose a booth and greeted a waiter that he seemed to know. So he was a regular here, good to know. Giving a menu to you first, he pointed out his favorite items off the menu, asking what your preferences were and altering his recommendations to fit what he thinks you’d like. You wanted to pay attention to what he was saying, but something about him made it impossible for you to look away from his face. Not realizing how long you were staring, Joshua had looked up to see you in what he assumed to be a zoned out state.

“Y/N?” Your name being said makes you stop staring at him and quickly look down at the menu, trying to play it off that you were shamelessly checking him out.

He smirks, trying to lighten the mood. “Do I have something on my face?”

Before you can reply, the waiter comes to your table asking if you were ready to order. You internally sigh to yourself, relieved that you didn’t have to answer him. Joshua looked at you, expecting you to order what you wanted to eat, but you hadn’t paid attention to the menu since you were too focused on his face. “I’ll get the same as whatever you’re getting.” You mumble as your embarrassment only continues to grow by the minute.

He nods, placing the order before handing his friend the menus and leaning back. “Do you want to talk about what happened tonight?” He carefully asks, not sure how serious the events that occurred were.

You normally wouldn’t talk about your feelings, especially to a stranger, but something about him was different. He had the kindest eyes you’ve seen, eyes that look as if they would understand you even if you shared your deepest and darkest secret. “Well, it started with my dryer not working…”

Hours passed and multiple glasses had been emptied between the two of you. Neither of you were drunk, although you had been with him for a long time all of the empty glasses were from smoothies. The diner was also known for its smoothie flavors, a dessert that you loved to consume. Your food had long since been devoured, with the only remains being cold fries. You learned he had grown up in LA and only moved to this city a couple of years ago so he wasn’t as well acquainted with your other friends like Jeonghan and Mingyu were. He continued to go on about his life and the recent happenings, even revealing that his last heartbreak was about four months ago when his ex confessed they cheated on him. His similar experiences only bonded the two of you quicker, and you found yourself sharing even the most cringeworthy stories with him. You liked how free he made you feel, you could say anything and still not have to worry about how he perceived you.

Joshua holds up his final smoothie of the night and begins to toast, "Good riddance to Jihoon, and here's to a new time, a better year!” He smiles at you, downing the remnants of his drink and paying the waiter for your food. You offered to pay half, considering you spent way more than you expected, but he adamantly refused.

“I was the one who invited you out, wasn’t I?” He concludes, holding the door as you both walk out of the diner with the sun starting to rise. The approaching sunrise made the city look anew once again and although you got your heart broken earlier, you felt refreshed. You had been through hell and back for the last day of the past year, but you were grateful that you could begin the new year with your newfound friend. A clean slate, with a sincerely caring person was what you needed and words could not articulate how thankful you were for Joshua’s presence.

“Let me take you home, only if you’re comfortable with me doing so.” As you were about to walk to the nearest bus stop that offered your route, Joshua’s voice interrupted your thoughts.

“You would do that?” Once again, you’re touched by his attentiveness to you. He only nods in response, smiling at you again.

The bus ride back to your apartment was more relaxing than any other bus ride you’ve had before. Somehow, the fifty minute commute was satisfying to experience today. Knowing that you had today off, seeing the city before everyone was fully awake was a consoling way to start the new year. It was an added bonus that you got to spend more time with Joshua. Soon enough, you were near your apartment complex and you hit the button to get off. Joshua trailed behind you, stopping at the bus stop to wait for the next bus back to his place. Seeing how he didn’t expect anything and genuinely wanted to make sure you were safe made your heart beat faster, and you decided that if it was the new year, you weren’t going to live with regrets. Although you had been walking to your building, you turned on your heels to walk back to him. He was patiently waiting at the stop, clearly tired from the night, but that sight of him only made you more certain that you were interested in him. Tapping his shoulder and making him jump slightly made you giggle, but his face soon softened upon seeing you. Anytime he smiled at you, it made your heart beat even faster.

“Did you forget something?” He innocently wondered, standing up in your presence.

“Yeah…you actually. Do you want to stay over for breakfast?” You boldly suggested, pleased with his reaction when his face lit up and he shook his head in agreement.

Maybe it was your lucky day after all. The new year was going to be memorable, you could tell.

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baby-girl-e · 2 years ago

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War Is Over

Characters - Iceman x Maverick

Summary - Ice and Maverick spend their first Christmas with the Kazansky’s since DADT was repealed. It’s been 25 years since Tom has spent a Christmas at home and now he gets to do it with his husband.

Word Count - 1.9k

Warnings - none, good old fashioned holiday fluff

A/N - Happy Holidays y’all! This is based on the Christmas song Happy Xmas (war is over) and I really hope you catch my drift as to why! There are so many versions of this song but my favorite one and the one I listened to while writing this was the one by Miley Cyrus!

Ice and Maverick have been together for about twenty-five years by the time DADT is repealed. They’ve had twenty-five christmases spent in the privacy of Ice’s house, unable to invite over family to spend it with them. Ice’s parents had thought he was too busy to take off christmas, or when Ice would tell them he worked christmas so that people with children could spend it with them, they thought him a saint. For Maverick however he got to tell Carole about who he was spending Christmas with, and she even came a few times when Goose's family relented for a year. It seemed that being lovingly overbearing was a Bradshaw trait.

In the year of 2011 however, things changed. DADT was repealed in September, and the couple had come out to their colleagues. It was a big decision that Pete had deferred mostly to Tom on, given that his career was the one that’d be most affected. Pete was a Captain and liked staying there, and now legally they couldn’t clip his wings for it. But Tom was still up for promotion and had been in the running for COMPACFLT, and him coming out as gay and having a long time partner could severely hinder that. Tom had insisted regardless stating that he loved Pete more than his rank and that they’ve hidden for long enough.

They had simply filed the proper paperwork that anyone in what was technically an inner-office relationship would file and that was that. They didn’t go out of their way to tell people but also stopped hiding it. Pete changed his address to Ice’s house and stopped paying rent on his shitty one bedroom he rarely visited. A few things that did change was when Ice made his way to the place on base where Pete was currently working, he got a kiss hello. Ice even put the picture’s they have together up on his desk for anyone to see. They’d see one of them laughing that Slider had taken, one of them back when Bradley was still small, and one of Pete in a nice suit in the summer of ‘91 when they had unofficially gotten married.

Finally Christmas rolled around and they had both saved up more than enough leave and decided it was fitting to visit Ice’s family for Christmas. They had come out to Ice’s family first, even before they came out professionally. Ice had apologized to his mother, stating he just couldn’t risk anything, which she said she understood but told him he was in for the ear flick of his life for not inviting them to his wedding. Pete was grateful for his family’s pleasant reaction, he wasn’t sure how it would go down if it hadn’t.

Luckily Ice’s, and now Pete’s, family didn’t live too far away from their house in Fightertown so it wasn’t more than a few hours drive. They had planned to come up on the 23rd and leave the 26th staying at the Kazansky house under threat of death by both Mr and Mrs. Kazansky.

“Babe you packed a coat right?” Tom was loading the car and Pete just stared at him from their doorway.

“Tom, I don't even own a coat, do you know where we live?”

“Yes but we’re going further north than you’re used to and it might get chilly.” Tom was like an overbearing mother sometimes. In the best way.

“Tom, we're going to Santabarbra, not the Rockies.” he approached his tight ass of a husband and put his hands on his shoulders. “And besides, if I get cold you’ll be there to cuddle me after you tell me I told you so.”

Tom laughs at his husband's antics and gives him a quick kiss.

They’re on the road to Santabarbra within the hour and to Ice’s parents within three. They pull up to the house and see Ice’s mom waving frantically from the door as his dad tries to reign in his wife, failing and proving that the Kazansky men’s inability to control their spouses is passed down genetically.

“I think they’re excited to see you Tom.” Pete was all smiles, giddy for a real family Christmas for the first time since the last one he had with the bradshaws.

“Baby, you and I both know they’re more excited to see you.” And it was true, even as he was introduced as Ice’s friend and wingman, he was accepted into the family quickly.

It seemed that Mrs. Kasansky had grown impatient and was currently barrelling towards her son and son-in-law. When she reached the door she pulled Pete out and into the tightest hug he thinks he’s ever had.

“Oh Pete I’m so glad you’re here! I always knew one day Tommy would bring home someone nice, but I never would've been able to pick someone better than you.” Pete was actively trying not to cry as Tom pulled their bags out of the trunk.

“Ma, try not to strangle my husband will you? I kinda like him.” That earned Tom a quick glare and suddenly Pete was released from his bear hug.

“Oh that’s right, thank you for reminding me why I’m still mad at you.” She could really hold a grudge according to Tom.

“Mom, I already told you that when we can make it official you’ll be the first to know. Now, do I get a hug too or is Pete your new son?” she softened and embraced her oldest boy.

“Well he’s my son now too so you’ll have to share that title.” Tom didn’t mind, he wanted to share everything with Pete, including but not limited to his last name.

They had decided early on that if it were ever possible Pete would take Tom’s last name. They knew they didn’t have to share a last name, but it was just another thing that they wanted to do if they ever had the chance. Tom had said he’d change his last name to Mitchell or even hyphenate but Pete had just laughed and demanded he get to change his last name to Kasansky. When Tom enquired as to why he was so keen on getting rid of his last name he just said, “Baby, I’ve been trying to distance myself from this last name for my entire life. And now I have the opportunity to be a Kazansky? You bet your ass I’m taking it.”

They eventually made their way into the house and Tom could feel all of his childhood memories rushing back. He was suddenly glad that his mother hadn’t changed her Christmas decor in all of this time, it felt like time had stood still, like it had waited for him to bring Pete home. He suddenly regretted not coming home for Christmas in so long.

“I know what you’re thinking son, and I want you to know that we don’t blame you.” Ice’s father had stood beside him and put an arm around him. His parents weren’t getting any younger and it showed, but it still felt like it always had. “You did what you had to do for your safety, and I’m so sorry you had to. But you’re here now, and so is Pete. Let’s have a good Christmas huh?”

Ice smiled and nodded at his father. It wasn’t that he didn’t think he could trust his parents with this secret, he just didn’t want to trust them with it. His parents were the best people he knew and he didn’t want them to have to lie to their friends or other family members about him.

“Thanks Dad. It means the world to us that we can be here with you all this year. It’s about time I give Pete the Christmas he deserves.” In his mind Pete deserved the world.

“Oh I’m sure you’ve given him plenty of remarkable Christmases. I have no doubt you’re a good husband to that man. I look forward to seeing it for myself.” His dad gave him one last pat and left him in the entryway to go tend to something in the kitchen. Pete moved to take his place.

“Something on your mind baby?” Pete had his arm around Tom’s waist their bags long gone with Mrs. Kazansky as she insisted she take them to one of the guest rooms.

“Just wishing we could’ve had this sooner is all.” He gave his husband a sad smile, but he hoped it was a reassuring one.

“We’re here now, love. Let’s enjoy it okay?” Tom nods to his husband and gives him a small peck. Still used to keeping things under wraps. But he hears a whistle from the top of the stairs and he looks up to see his younger (But still in his thirties) brother shaking his head at them.

“You call that a kiss? You’re under the mistletoe idiot, you’re supposed to give him a real kiss!” Tom rolls his eyes at Mark's antics and looks down to see his husband a nice shade of maroon. He considers his next move carefully, deciding between running up to chase down his brother and Kissing Pete within an inch of his life. He ultimately decides that it’s Christmas and he could have it all.

He pulls Pete up into a kiss and Pete forgets where he is for a moment and just sinks into it. They fall into it like they’re at home and it isn’t until Tom hears his brother’s exasperation that he snaps out of it.

“God you two are like newlyweds.” Mark is descending the stairs and approaches the couple.

“I’ll have you know we’ve been married since 1991 so we’re more like an old married couple.” Mark raises his hands in defense.

“My bad, but I’ll have you know I totally called this.” He gestures between the two pilots grinning ear to ear.

“Wow congratulations you called a relationship I’ve been in since 1986. You should be a detective.” Tom was smiling despite his sarcastic words, he was just glad to be able to talk like this with his brother.

The three of them join the parents in the living room. Ice’s mom informs them that Sarah and her girls’ ETA is about an hour and Josh and his family are set to arrive in the morning, flying in from the east coast.

They have dinner and chat, enjoying their time together, and Pete is happy to see Sarah and his Nieces. Words can’t even describe how he feels about being able to call them his nieces. The next day rolls around sooner or later and Josh’s grown-ish children swarm their uncle Pete. They’ve always called him that, just now it means more.

The house is finally full on Christmas Eve and they all sit in the living room watching some of the younger kids look out the window for santa. The fireplace is on and everyone is chatting silently. Pete is sitting next to (Or on him depending on who you ask) Tom and he’s got an arm around Pete’s shoulders, holding him tight.

Tom looks around at his family smiling and enjoying themselves, then down at his husband in his arms. Never in his wildest dreams did he think he’d ever get this moment. Christmas lights twinkling around him, his family laughing and chatting, and his husband in his arms enjoying the scene with him. They had fought for this moment for so long and now that it’s here? He couldn’t be more grateful. He and Pete fought in wars for a living and it felt like they never stopped because nobody ever won. But here and now, in his parent’s living room, Pete in his arms, it felt like the war was over. They had won.

(The Photo I reference as one of their wedding photos)

#Icemav #maverick x iceman #iceman x maverick #tom iceman kazansky #pete maverick mitchell #Christmas #christmas fic #Holiday fluff #top gun fanfiction #top gun 1986 #top gun maverick

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yeehawbvby · 6 months ago

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Am I ~seducing~ you? | Ch. 1*

(Piers x OC Maxine)

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Summary: "Piers stopped in his tracks as he watched his friend smile at him while propping herself onto her elbows, and then drop that smile and widen her eyes as they raked up and down his body.

Oh, does it look bad? he worried to himself.

Then, he noticed Max’s face grow pink. Her ears and what little of her neck he could see followed as her cheeks turned a deep red he wasn’t sure he’d seen on them before.

…That must be a good thing then, yeah? Probably?"

Author's Note: Wowee, what a surprise, another romantically and sexually tense MinMaxShip fic!! (said no one ever)

I had way too much fun writing this. I’ve been dealing with tons of health issues lately, which has made writing kinda hard, but it’s fun being able to whip up silly one-shots here and there when I can.

Hope y’all enjoy x

Check it out on ao3!

With battling being so ingrained into Galar’s culture, it was common for the region’s gym leaders to keep their stadiums open on holidays. Why would passionate trainers sit at home with their friends and families on, let’s say Christmas Eve for example, when they could go take on gym leaders as a group activity instead?

Piers, preferring to do his own thing, would pick and choose which holidays to keep the Dark venue open. He’d take it year-by-year, seeing how he was faring the week of the occasion, and would advertise a celebratory event only if he felt like it’d be worth it. Oftentimes he’d forgo battling entirely, putting on a show instead; but regardless of what he decided on, he never failed to sell the venue out.

The amount of people who showed up proved to be far too overwhelming for Max, so she simply didn’t work holidays. She’d had one incident in her early days as a gym trainer where she tried to push past her immense discomfort and be there for a New Year’s event, only to have to hide away backstage due to a panic attack. It was for the best that she just stayed home.

She didn’t mind it, despite how isolating it could be. If anything, she found comfort in how quiet their apartment building would become with so many people at one gym or another.

This day in particular was Halloween, and Piers was readying himself for a concert. He’d always encouraged everyone — his staff included — to show up in costume. The practice kept employee morale higher, attracted more attention from fans and trainers alike, and honestly, Piers just found it fun. The idea of being able to dress any way he wanted to once a year excited him. It made him feel less self conscious when he wanted to experiment with wearing dresses, or different types of makeup, or whatever, because if he was met with criticism he could just blame it on the holiday.

Piers had his fair share of silly costumes, such as pokemon kigurumis or maid outfits. He’d never been the type to use Halloween as an excuse to look sexy like so many people do.

For some reason, he felt bold enough to change that this year.

He was a little self conscious as he inspected his incubus getup in the mirror. His high ponytail was complemented by a headband with two black horns, which held his fringe away from his face; he swapped his black eyeshadow for a deep burgundy, creating a smokey look in unison with his smudged black eyeliner; and he toyed with some faux fangs, ultimately deciding to wear them at least until he got on stage.

His usual pendant adorned his neck, and below it, his torso was practically bare. He had on a black, long-sleeved, mock-neck shirt, but the fabric ended in an upside-down v-shape just above his chest.

Raihan, being a master of the craft of Looking Slutty, suggested Piers spice it up with some fake tattoos somewhere on his lower torso. He reluctantly did just that, drawing a small black wing with some eyeliner between each hip bone, slightly below his navel. He thought it would be too much but wound up liking it, especially preferring it over sporting a set of wearing fake wings.

He wore tight, black, leather pants, and would slip on some high-heeled leather boots on his way out, as usual. Today, though, he added a whale tail with a burgundy thong beneath it all — a little accent to complement his eyeshadow — and a black leather garter on his upper left thigh.

It wasn’t out of character for Piers to be completely shirtless at some points during his shows just due to sweat, but something about today felt so much more scandalous than usual. Maybe it was the attention he drew to his hips, or maybe it was the fact that he was arriving at the venue already practically topless. Who could say?

He wanted a second opinion on the outfit. Most of Piers’ buddies were gym leaders and busy prepping for their own celebrations, though, so Piers didn’t want to bother any of them.

That only left… Max and Marnie, he supposed. And there was no way in hell he was showing his little sister this outfit.

He sighed, dragging his feet on the short walk between rooms. The star felt a bit nervous presenting himself to Max so scantily clad. She’d seen him topless, but like he’d been thinking, this felt different.

He stood outside Max’s room and asked, “Oi, you decent?” through the door.

“Yup.”

She was hanging out on her bed. She laid belly-down, her head towards the foot of the mattress and her arms slightly dangling off, with her DS in hand. Not having Halloween plans herself, but wanting to do something, she opted to just wear a fuzzy white cat ear headband with her otherwise unfestive black hoodie and light pink joggers.

She was in the middle of something, so when Piers entered, she hadn’t looked up. She did greet him, though.

“What’s up?”

“Need your opinion on my costume.”

“‘Kay, ooone sec,” she murmured.

Piers admired how Max’s brows furrowed when she was feeling determined. He grinned when he noticed her headband, too. Cute.

He huffed out a near-silent laugh in tandem when Max’s misdreavus made itself visible and floated over to Piers, greeting him with its own set of cat ears equipped.

He patted its head between the accessory. “Hey, missy.”

It chirped happily before leaving the room to hang out somewhere else in the apartment. Probably the couch, he assumed. That fella really loved a good sofa… or any sofa for that matter. Theirs was pretty beaten up.

Piers shut the door behind the creature. Curious as to what Max was doing while he waited, he was about to make his way towards her with the intention to watch over her shoulder; but right when he took his first step, Max closed the device with a triumphant huff and looked towards him.

Piers stopped in his tracks as he watched his friend smile at him while propping herself onto her elbows, and then drop that smile and widen her eyes as they raked up and down his body.

Oh, does it look bad? he worried to himself.

Then, he noticed Max’s face grow pink. Her ears and what little of her neck he could see followed as her cheeks turned a deep red he wasn’t sure he’d seen on them before.

…That must be a good thing then, yeah? Probably?

“Erm.” She cleared her throat, fixing the heightened pitch of her voice — which was already pretty high-pitched, normally — before averting her eyes. After a beat she shyly met Piers’. Her gaze started to lower, as if on its own volition, but she rapidly snapped it back up to his face.

…Definitely, Piers concluded.

He flustered her.

This wasn’t one of those common instances where someone did something sweet or embarrassing to her, or where she did something sweet or embarrassing.

He put her in this state purely by looking the way he did.

And that felt fucking incredible to him.

Initially the realization had made him giddy. Then, as he registered that it could be absurdly fun to tease her about this — to tease her right now — his smile widened into something more mischievous.

Max’s following compliment came out strained. She was fighting for her life to make herself look unaffected.

(She was failing.)

“Looks good!”

Piers’ brows raised slightly as he flashed his fangs. “Y’think so?”

“Ye— oooh,” she cut herself off with a whisper, noticing the prosthetics. She could practically feel herself short-circuiting as she tried to figure out what to say. Please stop staring at his teeth, please be normal about this, she begged herself before settling on, “Can you sing in those?”

“Eh…”

Piers looked up a little, tilting his head to either side while he weighed out whether it would be doable or not. While doing so, he began fidgeting the tip of his tongue against one of his pointed teeth. The simple movements of his mouth made Max gulp.

“Probably, but I might take ‘em out anyway.”

“Hm.” Max slowly nodded, diverting her attention to the floorboards. She crossed her outstretched legs behind her, too. Something about shutting her thighs eased the tension growing between them.

Her overall reaction was all he needed to be way more confident in his attire. Cocky, even, just because it was Max. He cared more about her opinions of him than most other people’s. So, while she seemed to zone out, Piers quietly approached her bed, leaning his palms down onto the corner of it.

He wanted her attention. Wanted to see how many of her buttons he could push like this. He’d accepted his infatuation towards her by now, and to take advantage of the moment to see what kinds of reactions he could pull from her fueled his desires even further.

It made him feel a bit perverted, in a way.

Was it perverted?

Whatever, it didn’t matter. It’s not like he was hurting her by having a little fun. He knew she’d speak up if he made her uncomfortable at any point. There was very little risk in messing around, and a high reward to be had.

Timidly, Max side-eyed Piers’ exposed form, bringing the collar of her hoodie to her chin — a makeshift hiding spot — before letting her head fully turn. Her heart stuttered at the intense look in Piers’ eyes. He was amused, clearly, given the faint smile that played on his lips while he gnawed the lower one, only one of his fangs visible; but more than that, he watched over her like a predator would its prey.

He asked lowly, “You like it, then?”

God, yes— “Mhm,” Max nodded.

Piers noted the slight quiver in her breath, and swelling with pride, he continued, “How much?”

As the words came out, he gravitated to the foot of Max’s bed, slowly sinking onto his knees to meet her at eye level, no more than a foot away.

“Oh, um…”

Max looked down in an attempt to escape eye contact, only to realize she was openly staring at his torso. She honed in on his decorated hips for a short moment before blinking a few times, as if to wipe away her racing thoughts. She plastered her view onto his right arm.

“I… I don’t know.” She dropped her hold on her hoodie, then answered, “It’s a good look on you,” pulling a small section of hair over her shoulder to fidget with. As she twirled the brown and pink strands between her fingers, Piers noticed that her feet were kicking in place the slightest little bit.

“You sure? Seems like ya can’t even look at me while you say it,” he teased, lifting Max’s chin with his pointer and middle finger.

She wanted to fucking die. To vanish from thin air and not have to deal with how pretty he was. How sexy he was.

But there was no escape.

She could tell from his constant ghost of a smirk that he knew exactly what he was doing. Whether he simply enjoyed toying with her, or he knew he was absolutely melting her, she had no clue — whichever it was, though, it turned her on more than she could possibly begin to comprehend.

Piers egged her on, her eyes widening a little as he leaned in closer, “I mean, I can tell you with full confidence that you make an adorable kitten.” He gestured his head towards her ears.

Arc’s sake, please shut up, Max wanted to scold him, her heart threatening to beat its way out of her body. She wanted to close what little of a gap there was between them. To pounce on him. For him to do the same. Anything.

“Well… I do mean it,” she answered once she was able to compose herself. “I’m just a little embarrassed, I guess,” Max admitted, with a breathy, nervous waver lingering in her voice.

Piers leaned forward again. “Why’s that?”

Max’s eyes flickered between Piers’ darkened eyes and his lips. “Don’t— erm, don’t you have to leave?”

He shook his head slightly. “I have plenty of time to grill ya if I want to.” His mouth formed into a toothy, meowth-like smile.

“Damn it,” she quietly laughed, looking down, now that Piers’ hold on her had slackened.

He promptly stole her back, tugging her view to his once more while he laughed with her. He thought she had such a pretty smile — especially when her face was so rosy.

“Y’know, if I didn’t know any better…” he began to speculate as he nearly closed their gap. Their noses were just a few centimeters apart. Max seemed to be in a trance, her eyes following his mouth’s every move while it drew nearer. “I’d say it looks like you want me to kiss you or somethin’.”

Max’s eyes shot up to his while she nervously chewed the inside of her lip between her canines. She looked hopeful. Pleading. Desperate.

Confident facade aside, Piers felt similarly.

“…Do you want me to kiss you, Max?” Piers whispered. Despite the softness in its volume, his voice had an almost dangerous tone to it.

It made Max gasp. She was putty in his hands.

Piers felt himself twitch in his pants at her barely-audible reaction. He wondered when else she’d ever make faces like these, when else she’d sigh such wistful little breaths. Simultaneously, she’d been wondering if this is the sort of demeanor he’d have in bed.

Unable to resist but feeling shy, she nodded the slightest bit. The motion would’ve been unnoticeable if you weren’t looking for it.

Piers was on her before she could even register that he’d obliged, eagerly holding her face and smashing his lips against hers. Her surprise manifested in a whimper and filled her with embarrassment while it drove Piers mad with lust.

Max rested a hand atop one of his while she struggled to pull herself up into a kneel. Her legs felt like jelly beneath her as she maneuvered herself to be sitting on the edge of her bed, her legs dangling on either side of Piers as she draped her arms around his neck. She rested one palm against the back of his head while the other gripped the fabric covering his opposite shoulder.

Max wondered, as their lips and tongues ebbed and flowed, how such a simple costume could have made her so goddamn needy… and why did it seem to have the same effect on him?

While Max was lost in thought and inebriated by Piers’ kisses, the man stood up, leaned his right palm onto the bed, and weaved his left fingers beneath Max’s loose mane to cup her nape.

He encouraged her to lay back with nothing but the force of his lips, letting her decide whether or not to invite him closer. She subconsciously tightened her thighs against his hips as she complied, her body willing his to meet hers on its own volition; enticing his core towards hers as he hovered above her, his ponytail tickling her cheek and his breaths fanning her face each time their mouths unclasped.

Max, knowing Piers could recreate his ponytail in an instant if he wanted to, tangled her fingers through the taught hair. She gripped onto it for dear life and leaned upward as if it would allow her to taste more of him, sighing into his mouth as he used his lips to pin her back down.

Piers smiled against her, noting that she seemed to really like when he took control. It reminded him of a move he busted out during their first kiss, so he decided to recreate it. A little commemoration of sorts. He drifted his thumb to Max’s chin and — without warning, unlike last time — pulled her mouth open and held it there, leaving her powerless in terms of how long their tongues would be knotted together.

Just like the first time, Max accidentally whined into his mouth. Just like the first time, Piers breathed out a laugh through his nose. He didn’t halt their connection this time, though, favoring twirling his tongue around hers over the prospect of teasing her. He did hum to express his satisfaction though.

If he heard correctly, Max whimpered again at his reaction, albeit near silently.

And he did hear correctly, but not for the reason he’d thought. Max definitely responded positively to his humming, but she was more so focused on the way he just took the reins and seemed to really enjoy it. She did too. Being teased, being bossed around a bit. Being at his will. All of it made her feel restless.

Max arched her back a little to be closer to Piers.

Piers gripped the curve of her hip and squeezed, firmly pressing his pelvis between her opened legs in tandem.

Max desperately tugged at Piers’ hair with one hand to pull him closer, and gently caressed his cheek with the other.

Piers bit Max’s lip, forgetting he had fangs equipped, and drew a little blood—

Oh.

He pulled away and brought his hand to her cheek while he made sure she was okay.

She nodded. She kinda liked the pain. She didn’t tell him, but something about the hungry glint in her eye gave it away.

…Oooh!

Piers, with a smirk that met his eyes more than his lips, licked the blood away before stealing another open-mouthed kiss, and it was literally the hottest thing that had ever happened to Max.

This only lasted a few moments longer, both of them mourning the loss of each other’s lips the second they were apart. Still hovering over Max, Piers pulled his phone from his pocket to check the time.

Their chests heaved as they stared at the rotom. They both knew he needed to leave, but Piers heavily considered canceling the show in favor of spending the night snogging Max’s face off.

Fuck it… I can be late.

Piers gently tossed the device aside, letting it float down on its own, and dove back down. Max happily went along with it for a short while before feeling guilty.

Damn it.

“Mm–” she hummed against him, cupping his cheeks to gently nudge him away. “You’ve gotta go, no?”

Piers, while staring at Max’s swollen lips as if they were the most fascinating things he’d ever seen, sighed. “Don’t wanna.” He immediately dipped back down, a goofy grin curling his lips upward.

“What?” Max laughed, her nose scrunching up a bit as she stopped him from kissing her again. “I thought you loved Halloween shows specifically.”

I love you more— “This is more fun.”

The sincerity in Piers’ voice, even if it was lighthearted and silly, had Max wanting him to cancel the show too.

This was the perfect opportunity to poke fun at him, though. “Taking this whole incubus thing a bit seriously, no?” It wasn’t a complaint, but it had piqued her curiosity.

“Ha!”

Max basked in Piers’ bright smile, feeling proud that she made him laugh, even if it wasn’t all that funny. Even if she always made him laugh.

Whatever. His laugh was cute and made her happy. That’s all that mattered.

Still grinning, Piers squinted at Max, readying an absolutely lethal blow. He nudged her nose with his, then let his lips ghost hers as he purred, “Why? Is it working?”

Max, hypnotized, let her eyes drop to where their lips were nearly connected. She tilted her head up a tiny bit, but Piers pulled back, his smile widening.

“Answer the question, love,” he taunted her before repeating the motions. “Am I seducing you?” He added a subtle nudge of his hips against her mid-sentence for emphasis. Max’s lip quivered as she swallowed back a moan before it could come out.

Max didn’t answer him. She didn’t want to lie, but there was no way in hell she was about to tell him how badly she yearned for him.

Her silence spoke volumes. Piers, wanting to hit Max with one last razzle dazzle, kissed her again, letting his tongue lead the way after successfully propping her mouth open. It was sloppy, it was deep, it was so hot, and it snatched Max’s fucking soul out of her body — very in-character! — but it also ended way too soon for her liking.

Piers concluded darkly after a moment of silence, “Very good to know,” before standing upright.

Half of him hoped his bulge wasn’t too noticeable.

Only half.

Max definitely saw something, but knew that if she lingered on it for too long, she’d be begging him to stay home, and to give up all restraint and rules and whatever, and to just fuck her senseless instead — so, she did her best to act like it wasn’t there.

“B-but I didn’t even answer you,” she weakly pointed out as Piers pulled out his messy ponytail, promptly fixing it back up into something tidier.

“But you didn’t deny it,” he winked at her, “and that’s all the confirmation I need.”

Satisfied with the havoc he’d wreaked, Piers grabbed his phone and made his way towards the door.

“Huh?” Max squeaked.

Piers met her eyes over his shoulder. “Byeee,” he sang… And he decided on a whim to snipe her one last time. “Try not to have too much fun without me.”

Max was speechless at the implications there as Piers shut the door behind himself. The man was now grinning like a doofus, knowing that he affected Max so immensely, even if it was just this once — at least to his knowledge.

He went into her room initially expecting an honest opinion, then to either hang out a little, or to work on improving his look. Maybe both, if she wanted to help.

Instead, he was handed some confidence on a silver platter in the form of Max blushing and whimpering for him. Fidgeting because of him. Visibly yearning for him.

He felt like a million bucks — like he was unstoppable. He was about to put on the best show of his career. He could just feel it.

Max, on the other hand, was stuck staring at the door, completely dumbfounded.

…What the fuck just happened?

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snowflakesnsundry · 1 year ago

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Until Dust C 93- A Warning Only Shadows Bring

Word Count: 3,392

Summary: One faces a horrible dream, and the other a waking nightmare.

Warnings: Story is Rated R.

Author’s Notes: Y’all I have missed you so much. I cannot begin to say how good it felt to see the kind words and enthusiastic reactions y’all had to me being back! I have missed you, and this story, dearly. I really appreciate all the kind words and patience you have given me while I was going through a rough time- I know that can be hard to do when you’re waiting on someone to update a story, as that is frustrating as all get out- but you guys have been so consistently kind and it means the world.

I hope you all have a wonderful holiday with those you love, be they friends, family, or otherwise. Know you deserve love and respect, and that we can alleviate stress by caring for one another, regardless of origin- so that the sun will shine on us all. <3

#loki fanfic #untildust #loki reader insert #loki marvel #loki x y/n #loki x reader #loki x you #loki #loki fanfiction #until dust

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padfootprongslet · 2 years ago

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merry christmas and happy holidays everyone. and if you don’t celebrate, i hope y’all have a good day regardless. 💙

#* text post

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sinnabee · 2 years ago

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GUESS WHO NAPPED INSTEAD ABSHSNAMD

i prolly won’t be streaming this weekend because of the double whammy of christmas AND i’m working the weekend. sorry lads!!! i know they’ve been few and far between lately. and next week im attempting some sibling and/or cousin meet-ups

lmao we’ve literally been on critical access (short enough staff we basically get to say “it’s not our fault if your exam didn’t get done/got done way late, we DON’T have the people”) for HALF THE MONTH. i think it’s 14 days now, like hot damn

it’s why my stickers haven’t gotten done (STILL) and why the streams have been so sparse, oof

hopefully things will - stabilize? in january. regardless, i hope y’all all have some good holidays!!!!! :D

what if i stream tonight but it’s literally just me being bad at oxygen not included. is that anything

#sinna babbles #stream update #oop #yeah i’ve just been. v busy AND tired as hell lads 😔#hopefully it gets better soon!

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neonun-au · 4 years ago

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home is a feeling | lee donghyuck

pairing: haechan/donghyuck x reader genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst warnings: alcohol (quite a bit), like very lightly suggestive word count: 8.2k words

for @nct-writers NeoHoliday event~ Inspired by the movie ‘The Holiday’

summary: Fresh off a break-up, not willing to stomach spending Christmas single with your family, you book a last minute trip overseas to escape the impending loneliness, not realizing that perhaps running away from your feelings will only serve to intensify them. You arrive at your home-away-from-home only to find you’re not the only one staying there. Through some unfortunate (or not so unfortunate) mistake, the AirBnB you booked has also been booked by a handsome young man looking for a similar escape from his own life. Now you have to choose whether or not to stay and spend your Christmas with a stranger or scramble to find a lonely hotel room last minute over the holidays.

taglist: @d-nghy-ck-main @infnteen (I hope y’all enjoy~)

The text message lights up your phone at 10:24pm.

Mark: We need to talk

You would be lying to yourself if you had said you weren’t expecting it, but those four words still send your heart reeling regardless. The cold grip of anxiety tightens around your throat as you pick up the phone and stare at the message. The only communication between you and your boyfriend in over a week. Presumably, this was not going to be a good conversation. It wasn’t going to be one of those ones where he calls and rants about his day at work, about how much pressure he is under, and how you are the only person alive that is able to take his mind off of it. You aren’t that person anymore, and you haven’t been for a while.

The writing was on the wall for weeks, but now that it's sprawled over your phone screen, it feels suddenly all too real.

You inhale, fingers tapping across the screen, and attempt to craft a response that doesn’t indicate the level of panic you’re rising to.

You: Sure, what’s up?

Three dots. Appearing and disappearing. There and gone. You watch, sitting straight on the edge of your couch--Netflix muted in the background--and wait for the inevitable.

Mark: I think we should break up

The pin drops and you feel your stomach tighten. Part of you wants to laugh, ‘really, two years and it ends over text?’ you think mirthlessly, typing and re-typing the message. Another part of you, a more overwhelming part, is just tired.

You: if that’s what you want

The three dots return, flashing up on the screen and lingering. A visual representation of his overthinking. You sit and wait, biting back the angry tears threatening to spill out over your cheeks. Maybe you should fight for it--put up some small effort towards keeping this relationship--but you know it’s pointless. It would only drag it out, prolonging the death to an unnatural point and only sinking you further into a period of stasis.

Mark: I think it’s probably what’s best

Mark: for both of us

You: Ok, I understand

Mark: sorry to do this over the holidays. Tell your mom I say hi

You don’t bother with a response. Instead flipping the screen face down on the table and inhaling deeply, breathing in the realization as it hits.

Single. For Christmas. Great.

Somewhere between the fourth and fifth glass of wine, with hazy eyes and even hazier thoughts, you find yourself aimlessly scrolling through holiday destinations on AirBnB. Rows and rows of home and apartments fly by in a blur on your screen as you scroll.

The thought of spending Christmas with your family, newly single, became too much to bear about an hour after the last text message was sent. You dug through your cupboards for an old, dusty bottle of wine, cracked it open, and put on a Spotify playlist to match the mood--sad and pathetic. Images of your childhood bedroom flooding your mind. Bright blue walls lined with posters and old photographs, all of the old books and stuffed animals your parents never had the heart to get rid of. A relic of another time, a shrine to another life.

The thought of your sister’s pitying gaze turned your blood to ice. Her soft eyes, sympathetic but distant, as she chases your nephew through the halls of the familiar house. Your mom’s obnoxiously cheerful pep talks and all too unhelpful suggestions about who you could date fill your mind like lead.

No. No you weren’t going to succumb to that fate.

Instead, you click on listing after listing until you finally find one that fits your tipsy criteria. A small, modern home nestled in a copse of trees ten minutes outside of a picturesque village. Isolated, clean, and, mostly importantly--available.

Without any further thought you type in your credit card information and wait for the confirmation email to appear in your inbox.

The house greets you like a stranger. The door swings open into the dim interior--white walls, white furniture, and white curtains all cast in shadow--and you drop your bags in front of the door with a dull thud. Coat still wrapped tight around your body, you fumble around for the light-switch. The room warms up a bit under the glow of the yellow bulbs but you still feel the emptiness around you--descending in a thick blanket of silence.

“What am I doing here?” You wonder aloud, kicking off your shoes and heading in to explore your temporary home for the holidays. The small living room opens up into a galley kitchen--clean and quaint. Despite reading the description in the listing, you hadn’t fully been prepared for just how pervasive the whiteness of everything would be. Especially in contrast to your parent’s home--with their richly painted walls, colourful decorations, and lush carpets. Everything in this house is a blank slate--you get the feeling you’re exploring it for the first time, that no one else has ever ventured here. Even the tint of grey on the walls isn’t enough to break up the uninhabited atmosphere.

From the kitchen you wander back through the living room, past the large windows through which you can see the snow continuing to fall, and walk towards the hallway, presumably leading to the rest of the house. The bathroom provides some relief from the endless white. Blue tiles run up the walls of the small room, a relief for your eyes and a nice contrast with the tan flooring. It eases the sense of dread in your mind slightly before you move along towards the bedrooms.

You peek your head into both doors in succession--disappointed but not surprised to be greeted by beds made with crisp, white sheets and duvets. A large evergreen tree peeks through the window of the room on your right and you drag your luggage in there, grateful for the proximity to nature if nothing else. You dump your bags on the floor and head back into the kitchen to unload your groceries and enough wine to put you in an effective holiday coma until your flight back home.

Thankfully, the kitchen is well stocked with glasses.

The sound of Mariah Carey’s voice drifts through the house, mingling with the boisterous, uneven tone of your own singing and effectively blocking out the wailing of wind as the storm picks up in ferocity outside. You take a sip of your wine--the first bottle of Merlot--and dance around in front of the stereo in your old t-shirt and underwear. Pushing aside the crushing weight of loneliness that had descended upon you when you first arrived at this place in the middle of the woods, you decided you were going to ride it out.

Make the best of your solo Christmas trip and at least get drunk enough to forget why you came here in the first place.

The song builds to a crescendo and you wail along, wine sloshing in the glass as you belt out high notes you never thought you were capable of, oblivious to the sound of the keypad on the door indicating someone’s entering. Mariah sings, you close your eyes and screech along, and a heavy bag drops to the hardwood floor with a loud thud.

“You’re gonna damage your vocal chords if you keep that up,” a voice chimes out from the entryway and you stop mid shimmy--eyes wide with fear. You turn to see a young man starting at you from the doorway, smirk drawn over his lips.

“What are you doing here? Who are you?” You ask, setting down your wine glass, body burning with a dangerous cocktail embarrassment and panic. Glancing around frantically, you see your phone on the kitchen table and try to plan out how you might be able to reach it before he can reach you. Memories of old new reports flash through your mind--home invasions, robberies, murders.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he levels back, slipping out of his shoes and stepping towards you. His voice rises in defense, and you take the hint of confusion in his tone and run with it. Ignoring how vulnerable you feel, half-naked in the living room in front of an intruder--you pull your shoulders back and assert as much authority as you’re able to.

“I rented this place for the holidays, so unless you’re the owner of this cabin--I would suggest you leave.”

His eyes widen, but he takes another step towards you. “That’s a mistake. I rented this place,” he slips his phone out of his pocket and you watch through slightly hazy eyes as he scrolls through email after email until he lands on the confirmation from the website--shoving his phone in front of your face to show you the proof.

Confirmation #343245

Lee, Donghyuck

December 19-December 30

“No,” you shake your head, knitting your eyebrows together and staring up at him in firm disapproval. Your shoulders deflate slightly, assured at least that he wasn’t here to murder you.

“No?”

“No.” You reaffirm, hands on your hips. You feel the urge to poke him in the chest, to make him take a step back, but resist to maintain your stance. His honey golden eyes swim before you as you stare him down, ignoring the cool draft against your bare legs. “Hang on,” you grab your phone from the table and flick through your emails.

Confirmation #343244

_____, _______

December 19-January 2nd

“Ah,” he pushes the phone away from his face with a chuckle. “Umm, so I guess we’re stuck together?” He raises an eyebrow, clearly unsure of what to do in this situation, and you take a shaky step away from him. The liquid courage that had previously been roaring through your mind has now quieted to a dull whisper and you notice just how close you were standing. How the warmth from his body was seeping into your exposed skin.

“No, one of us is going to have to leave,” you say, grabbing the throw that had been draped over the couch and covering your bare legs as you settle on the unforgiving white leather. “And by one of us, I mean you.”

“I’m not leaving,” you watch as he walks to the entrance and drags his bag into the living room to reinforce his statement. You pause a moment, evaluating the man before you. His snow-soaked brown hair falling over his forehead, tanned skin, lean body. If it weren’t for the smug expression on his face you would maybe even think he was handsome.

“Yes, you are.” You level him with a glare, taking another slow sip of your wine. “I booked this place first, according to the confirmation numbers. I arrived here first, too, so I have dibs. Sucks to be you.” You’re not sure if it’s the wine or the loneliness that’s making you so bold, but it catches him off guard nevertheless and he lets out a laugh. The sound echoes through the living room, brightening the atmosphere and chipping away at the sense of unease that had temporarily gripped you.

“Yeah, well, I think I’ve probably got a better reason to be here than you do, so by that merit I win.” Resting his hands on his hips, he matches your glare happily.

“Doubt that, Lee Donghyuck.” You scoff, memories of your frantic escape from reality swirling through your wine-soaked brain.

“Oh yeah? You want a bet, ______?” He shrugs off his coat and tosses it haphazardly over his luggage on the floor before flopping down next to you on the couch.

“Fine, let’s make it a bet,” any potential danger or fear you should be feeling in this moment, next to this complete stranger, is a distant thought as you prepare your case. Equipped with days of mulling over your own miserable state of affairs and a half-drunk bottle of Merlot. “Winner stays, loser goes.”

“Deal,” he nods, stretching out his arms as if preparing for a fight. “Can I have some of that wine?”

The previous cold of the home has all but dissipated through glasses of wine and the laughter of the evening. You find yourself sprawled out on the couch next to this strange man as he describes how he came to the decision, much like your own, to spend Christmas alone far from home.

“So, since we didn’t have any schedules or anything lined up for the holidays, and I didn’t really feel like hanging around the dorms being reminded of how painfully single I am.”

“How did she break up with you?” You asked, refilling your glass with another healthy serving of wine.

“In person,” he shrugs, tossing back the rest of his glass. “She said I was ‘a handful’ like she’s my teacher or something.” Donghyuck rolls his eyes and you let out a short bark of laughter, slipping further and further into a strange sense of comfort around him. Whether due to the influence of alcohol or the shared misery, you’re not sure.

Nudging him with your toe, you turn with a half-smirk, “at least she had the courtesy to break up with you in person. I got dumped via text.”

“Ouch,” he laughs, shaking his head in sympathy.

“We had been dating for two years, too,” you nod. Now sitting next to your new companion in misery, the whole thing seems rather humorous in retrospect. The image of you, tear stained and tired, sitting in your pajamas booking a solo vacation for Christmas seemed like something out of a cheesy comedy flick. “He told me to tell my mom that he’s sorry he can’t make it for Christmas.”

“Okay, so we both got dumped,” he says, emptying the rest of the wine into his glass and sliding onto the floor in front of you.

“Yup,” you nod, stretching out across the couch in his absence.

“And we both somehow rented the same vacation home for the same date,” he’s ticking off his points on his fingers. You watch the back of his head--staring at the soft brown hair now finally dry from the snow melt as he runs his free hand through it.

“Yeah,” he’s reached some conclusion but any brain power you could have spared towards meeting him there was lost three glasses ago, so you just wait for him to spell it out for you.

“Why did you choose to come here and spend Christmas alone?” He turns, sparkling brown eyes meeting yours a few inches from your face. You can feel the warmth of his breath, you see the pleasant upturn at the corners of his mouth as he waits for your answer. Your fingers twitch to brush aside a loose strand of his hair but you keep them still at your side.

“Would you believe me if I said I was kinda drunk?” You reply, shifting away from his steady gaze. He grins wide and the urge to reach out and touch him, to check and see if he is indeed real and not some hallucination crafted by your addled brain, intensifies.

“Okay, so since we’re both pathetic losers, where does that leave us?”

“What do you mean?”

“Who gets to stay?”

“Well, considering I bought two weeks worth of wine, I think I might be more pathetic than you.” You state, waving your hand dramatically towards the empty bottles on the coffee table.

“I came here in such a rush I only packed one pair of pants,” he rebuffs.

“Not bad, but did you also forget to bring a toothbrush? Because I definitely had to rebuy all of my toiletries in the village when I got here.”

“Alright, well I had to pack my bags and leave with all five of my roommates staring at me wondering what the hell I was doing.”

“Five roommates? Jesus,” you heave a sigh, fixing your gaze back on his and ignoring the way your stomach flips. “Fine, you win.” His grin broadens and you groan internally, dreading the prospect of having to find a last minute accommodation. “Maybe this was a stupid idea anyway, I should probably just go home for Christmas.”

“What, didn’t you just get here?” He asks, eyes widening in alarm.

“Yeah, but--” you sigh, shifting up onto your elbows. The weight of your decision sinks in past the cloud of wine and laughter of the last few hours, settling into your stomach like a stone. “What was the point? I was sad about feeling alone on Christmas so I decided to book a flight to be alone...on Christmas.”

“That is pretty stupid,” he agrees, nodding solemnly until you raise a hand and push him away from the couch with a firm shove.

“Whatever, you did the same thing.”

“So,” he sighs, settling back against the side of the couch after your attack. “Why don’t we be alone together?”

The question shocks you out of your malaise and you balk at him, “what?”

Donghyuck spins around on the floor to face you, “there’s two bedrooms, we both already paid for the place,” he shrugs, “you clearly shouldn’t be left unsupervised considering the amount of wine and cheese in the fridge.”

You narrow your eyes in disdain, miffed at the criticism despite the accuracy of the statement, “so what, you’re going to change your mind now after I already said I would leave?”

He just shrugs again. “Yeah, I’ll even let you have your choice of bedroom.” He winks.

“Oh, wow, how generous,” you roll your eyes and push yourself into a sitting position--conscious of your still bare legs under the thin throw as you move.

“In case you didn’t notice, it’s been storming outside all night so chances are neither of us was going to get very far anyway,” he gestures out the window where sure enough a small snowdrift has started to collect outside. The howling winds, drowned out at first by obnoxious Christmas music and then by conversation and laughter, make themselves known again and you feel a shiver cascade over your body at the mere thought of the frigid temperature. “Besides,” he continues, “I’m actually sort of having fun with you.”

“Oh,” the sudden confession catches you off guard. Through the hours of shared stories and bottles of wine you had barely had a chance to notice the tension dissolve into a general sense of ease and comfort. His presence next to you had rapidly shifted from alarming to natural and you couldn’t deny that you had also been having fun.

Donghyuck gets up, collecting the empty bottles, and heads into the kitchen. You listen as the water runs from the tap, as he rummages around in the pantry in search of some late night snack, and think over his proposition.

Two people brought together under suspiciously similar circumstances from wildly different places somehow ended up at the same place at the same time. And by some further twist of fate, two people brought together who seem to also enjoy each other’s company. But maybe that was the wine talking.

“Hey,” he calls out from the kitchen, voice carrying through your myriad of thoughts. “Do you want some cheese or…cheese? Jesus, is this all you bought?”

“Yes and no, I’m good thanks,” you laugh and bring your glass to your lips with a smile.

“We’re gonna have to go grocery shopping, this is ridiculous.” He slips back down to his spot in front of you on the floor, holding a plate of cheese and grapes in front of your face as an offering before popping a cube into his own mouth and washing it down with a sip of wine.

The casual scene, too comfortable for people who met only mere hours before under bizarre circumstances, carries on deep into the night. Sharing laughter and jokes as you slip further and further into your new reality like an old sweater. Like it’s always been there just waiting for you to inhabit it once again.

As the hours bleed on, Donghyuck’s smile and laughter at once so new and exciting become more and more familiar. You stop hyper focusing on his movements, on his wild gestures, and start allowing them to exist in proximity to you. To exist as they are alongside your own. Eventually you slip off the couch and take a seat next to him on the floor, giving him a hazy run down of how palmistry works and why the lines on his hand mean that he was born to be in entertainment.

He humours you, holding his palms steady as you trace the lines without much care for the closeness of your bodies. The heat of his gaze sinks into the top of your head as you stumble through a half-remembered explanation about his heart line. “Hey ______,’ he interrupts your speech suddenly, fingers curling around your own. “Do you miss your ex?”

“Huh?” The question catches you off guard and you almost whack his chin with the top of your head as you raise your gaze to meet his.

“Do you miss him?” For the first time since he walked in on you wailing along to Mariah Carey in your underwear you see a hint of caution in his expression. Some small spark of vulnerability hidden behind the golden flecks of his irises.

“No,” you drawl, slightly taken aback by your own honesty. “I guess I just miss…being with someone, you know? I knew for a while that it was going to end but I guess I held on because sometimes it's more comfortable to just...stay. Peacefully existing next to someone even if you know it's not going to end well.”

He scoffs, “peaceful? I didn’t think that was possible.”

“I take it your relationship was a bit more exciting than mine was, then?”

“Well, like she said--I’m a handful,” he winks and releases your hand to reach for the last cube of cheese on the plate--popping it into his mouth.

“Do you agree with her?”

“About what?”

“That you’re a handful.”

“Maybe,” he nudges you with his elbow and flashes a conspiratorial wink your way. “If you stick around I’m sure you’ll find out for yourself.”

You shake your head in mock horror, “I think I already have.” He laughs and settles back against the couch, eyes closed. In the soft silence that settles around you you take a moment to study him. The soft flesh of his cheeks--a rounded profile. You always thought you preferred a sharper jaw but looking at him now before you, you imagine what it would be like to trace your lips along the curve of his neck. How soft and sweet he might taste under your gentle touch. He said he was a singer, but you haven’t heard his voice yet--just the cacophony of laughter and jokes that are almost constantly pouring out from between his full lips. You try to match the image of him to any voice you’ve heard before but come up short--your imagination either too frail or too soaked in wine to find a possible comparison.

“Donghyuck,” you break the silence, clearing away the images in your mind with a slight cough. He turns to you, eyebrow quirked, and waits for your question. “Do you miss her? Your ex?”

“No,” he laughs. “I thought I did, but listening to you talk about yours made me think that maybe it’s just having someone that I miss. Not necessarily that specific someone.”

“Okay,” you nod, thoughtful, and drain the last of your wine. “I’ll stay.”

The cold light of morning greets you with a sharp pain in your temples. Through four bottles of wine shared between the two of you last night, you somehow managed to forget to drink any water at all.

The heat of the water in the shower raining over your skin melts away the knots built up over a night of restless sleep and you close your eyes--immersing in the feeling. The calm and peace so rudely interrupted a minute later when Donghyuck pounds on the door, “______, hurry up and get dressed. We have to get groceries before we’re completely snowed in.”

Ah right, a handful.

Snow-capped trees pass by through the windows of the car in a blur as Donghyuck maneuvers the car down the narrow lane away from the house. The force of your headache has ebbed slightly after pounding back a couple of Tylenol, but the winding road coupled with the frantic speed of his driving brings up a fresh wave of nausea. A few times you’ve had to brace yourself against the dash to avoid slamming into it, and once your hand found purchase on his thigh in a desperate scramble for security--eliciting a loud bark of laughter from him.

“Want me to slow down?” He asks with a sideways grin.

“Yes please,” you groan, wondering at how he can manage to be so spritely after going glass for glass with you the night before. He laughs again but slows the car to a reasonable pace, easing the turmoil in your stomach.

The sleepy village sprawls out before you, bringing a wave of relief washing over your body. Small brown buildings sprout up out of the stark white snow, and despite the nausea you can’t help but marvel at the sight. Somewhere in the post-breakup daze, this image was what you had been searching for. Picturesque countryside, a welcome change from the hustle and bustle of the city you were so used to and judging by the look in Donghyuck’s eyes, he felt similarly.

“This is cute,” he says, hopping out of the car and stretching towards the bright rays of the sun. His skin shines in the amber rays of morning and you have to peel your eyes away to keep from staring.

“It is,” you agree, following him towards the shop on the corner of the street with a sign proclaiming ‘Fresh Bread Baked Daily’.

There’s something about the understated domesticity of grocery shopping that grips you. How glancing over fruit and vegetables together is an act of almost intimate proportions. How his stern warning of “no more cheese” sounds a lot like a proclamation of affection under the flourescent lights of the small store. You follow him through the aisles, losing yourself in the fantasy and toss random items in the cart--some of which are immediately placed back on the shelf by him.

“Can you cook?” He asks, surveying the roasts laid out in rows before him.

“Yeah, well enough,” you nod.

“Do you like cooking?”

Another question that catches you by surprise. You pause, hand hovering over a rack of ribs and wonder. Did you like cooking? Or did you just do it because it was necessary--almost expected of you. Because all of your previous partners or flings were so hopeless at it that you had absolutely no choice. You could give the expected answer, or you could be honest.

“Not especially,” you answer with a laugh when he glances up at you in question.

“Okay,” he grabs a roast and tosses it into the cart. “I’ll cook Christmas dinner then.”

“Do you like cooking?” You ask, surprise clearly evident and he laughs at the expression of shock as it washes over your face.

“Depends who I’m cooking for,” he replies and you follow behind as he pushes the cart towards the bakery, watching as he inspects loaves of bread with a more serious look than you’ve seen from him yet. A small smile spreads across your face and you reach over him to toss a pack of cinnamon buns in the cart--earning a soft glare from him but the buns remain in the cart as you walk towards the till.

“Will that be everything for you today?” The elderly cashier, bedecked in a bright red and green, hand-knit Christmas sweater tells you the price with a smile. Donghyuck counts out the money while you load the cart with the bags, eager to get back to your temporary home and slip into your pajamas with a plate full of fresh cut fruit. “I hope you kids have a lovely holiday,” she says as the receipt prints out and you match her smile with your own. “It’s so nice to see young love these days.”

“Oh we’re not--”

“Thank you,” Donghyuck grins, taking the receipt and pushing the cart out towards the car.

Christmas Eve looms up in the midst of an extended snowstorm. The grocery trip turned out to have been perfectly timed, much to Donghyuck’s delight, and it has given him something to tease you with at every turn. How he should have been a meteorologist. “I’m so connected to the weather, _____.” He says around a mouthful of cinnamon bun--sly grin turning up the corners of his mouth and earning a playful slap from yourself as you try to ward off the rest of his smug comments.

Briefly, in the cold, sober light of day after your fortuitous meeting you had worried that the comfort of the evening wouldn’t last. That this bizarre camaraderie and friendship forged through circumstance was tenuous at best. You worried that it would dissolve within hours and you would be stuck; snowed in to a house with someone you had nothing in common with. Stuck with a stranger and existing on the edge of a knife blade as you try to drown the pit of loneliness in your stomach with the remaining bottles of wine.

Hours pass, and then days, and to your surprise nothing of the sort happens. Instead you find yourself spiralling deeper and deeper into this gravity of this unlikely companion. The stark white of the living room no longer feels cold and barren, instead it reflects the warmth of Donghyuck’s laughter--the warmth of your mingling happiness as you dance around the living room with abandon. Basking in the sheer freedom of the moment. Nothing to worry about, no one to worry for. Just existing, there and then--set to a soundtrack of Holiday hits.

You finally hear Donghyuck sing one night, sprawled out in your pajamas on the living room floor and you swear this is what angels would sound like. You tell him as much and he just shoots you a wink and says, “I know.” The voice of an angel, the temperament of a demon.

Through all of it a string is pulled taut between you. This underlying thread of possibility that taunts you at every turn. It tightens around your stomach in knots when he brushes up against you as he reaches for a glass from the cupboard. It vibrates like a string played on a harp when he smiles at you across the table, or laughs at some offhand joke made at his expense. Every glance, every word, pulls it tighter and tighter. Weaving your unexpected friendship into something more--something unspoken and unbroached.

You lay awake at night, alone in the room across from him, and wonder if this is all an illusion. If the glances and stirring in your heart are all concoctions created by your post-breakup brain to lessen the feelings of sadness that should have been burrowing into your heart this past week. The worries swirl around in your brain, morphing and growing into your vivid dreams. Dreams of your ex, dreams of falling, and dreams especially of Donghyuck.

Yet, in the morning light, sipping coffee across the table from him, all these thoughts and worries melt away as you let yourself drift further into this temporary domesticity. The laughter and happiness of the days overwhelm until eventually you can't remember what you had been worried about in the first place.

Donghyuck makes good on his promise to cook Christmas dinner and you spend the day padding through the small home bathed in the intoxicating scent of the array of spices and herbs slowly roasting in the oven.

“How much longer?” You ask peering over his shoulders as he slides a tray of potatoes into the oven.

“Impatient,” he pokes you in the nose with the tip of his warm oven mitt. “It’ll be done when it’s done.”

“That’s not a real answer,” you cross your arms and lean against the counter, waiting for an answer to appease your curiosity.

“And people say I’m annoying,” he scoffs, slipping off his oven mitts and leaning next to you. The warmth of his bare arms as they brush against yours sends a shiver rippling over your entire body. “Did you do this to your ex, too, when he would cook?”

“Who? Mark?” You snort, the image of Mark standing in a kitchen cooking eliciting a guttural response. “He couldn’t cook to save his life.”

“Well, good thing you got rid of him then,” Donghyuck nudges you with his elbow, fingers grazing against your own. You feel the tip of his pinky finger curl around yours and your breath catches in your throat. A giddiness you haven’t felt since high school creeps through your veins as the contact deepens. He slides his hand into yours, intertwining your fingers. You chance a cautious glance out of the corner of your eye and see his soft brown gaze fixed steadily on you--all signs of teasing washed away until there is nothing but a sweet sincerity hidden in the depths of his irises. “______,” he breathes your name, pushing himself off the counter to stand in front of you.

You wait in a bubble of anticipation as he leans in closer and closer. The warmth of his breath tickling your face, the thread between you tightening--pulling you together in the kitchen. His lips, soft and welcoming, barely graze against yours before the bubble bursts and your ringtone sounds out through the small home like an alarm, startling you back to reality. With an apologetic glance, you rush over to your coat and fumble through the pockets for the offending device.

“Hello?”

“Hi, honey!” Your mom’s voice sings through the speaker of your phone and you heave a sigh, releasing the irritation that had wormed into your thoughts at the interruption. “Merry Christmas!”

“Yeah, Merry Christmas, Mom,” Donghyuck laughs as you take a seat at the table, head in hand and listen as she rambles off a list of everything you were missing at home over the holidays.

“Anyway, I just wanted to call and make sure you were doing all right all alone up there. It really was a surprise that you decided to leave for Christmas, but as long as you’re happy it’s alright I suppose.”

“I’m, yeah I’m good, Mom. I’m enjoying it.”

“I know the breakup wasn’t easy for you and I was worried that you might be lonely out there by yourself,” she sighs through the phone, motherly concern plain in her voice

You glance over and watch as Donghyuck flips the potatoes, face illuminated in the glow of the oven, and smile, “no. Not at all, actually.”

“That’s good to hear, sweetheart, I just want to make sure that you made the right decision.”

“I think I did,” you smile. “I really think I did.”

“Okay, well, as long as you’re happy,” you can hear through the speaker the insistent wailing of your nephew in the background, cloying for attention and your mom’s voice grows distant as she turns towards him. Clearly preoccupied in all the goings-on at home.

The image is clear in your mind, what you would be doing there in some alternate version of the present--if you had never decided to take this trip. You would be sitting in the same pajamas you had been wearing for 2 days, warm mug of apple cider in hand, fending off your sister’s pitying glances and making half-assed conversation with your estranged uncle as he tucks into yet another plate of baked goods.

The familiar scent of cinnamon and clove draws you into the scene. Years and years of Christmasses spent in the same house, in the same living room, with the same people. Comfort, familiarity, and there are parts of it you miss. But glancing up now, laughing as Donghyuck reels back from the cloud of steam as it billows out from a simmering pot on the stove, you decide you that there are more that you don’t miss, after all. That home comes in a lot of different forms, and a childhood house is just one of them.

“Mom, I’m gonna let you go. I’m having dinner with a friend. Have a good Christmas, say hi to everyone for me.”

“You too, honey,” she replies, clearly distracted entirely now by whatever disaster was unfolding in front of her at the moment. “Love you, we’ll see you in the new year.”

The phone call ends and you walk over to where Donghyuck stands stirring one of his array of aromatic concoctions. “Smells great,” you comment and he smiles--clearly pleased with the reception. Whatever had passed between you minutes before has all but slipped away, replaced again by casual comfort.

“It’ll be done in about two minutes if you want to have a seat,” he nods, flicking the burners off and gathering dishes and silverware.

The wine is poured, the roast is sliced, and the mouth-watering aroma of sage and rosemary fill the small home as you sit across from each other. It still surprises you how easily you slip into domestic simplicity next to him. Simply existing in one another's company--absent of the pressure to be anything except oneself. Maybe, you think, it comes from knowing that it's only temporary. That you really only have each other for these few days stolen from time, and eventually you were each going to slip back into your lives entirely separate from one another.

Having this holiday as only a memory, growing more and more vague with each passing month until even the sound of his laughter all but fades from your recollection.

“Do you like it?” Donghyuck asks, slicing into his dinner eagerly. You watch and wonder if he thinks about the same things as you. If the thought of your inevitable departure from each other is casting any sort of shadow over this meal, this moment, or if he’s content simply just existing free of those worries.

“It’s delicious,” you nod, forking another potato into your mouth. “Like really good. I never would have expected you to be a decent chef.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised at the things I’m decent at,” he hums with a wink and you feel the blood rush to your head, clouding your thoughts. How easily his humour washes away all worries for the future, bringing you into the present. How easily over the span of a few days he has managed to pull you into him.

“Is that right?” You swallow the intrusive thoughts down with a sip of wine and glance at him over the table, evaluating the sly smirk as it stretches across his soft lips. The feeling of his warmth against your body, so close you could almost melt into him, lingers in your mind.

“Yeah, do you want a demonstration?” He sets down his silverware, flexing his hands, and casts his eyes on you from across the table in question.

“O-” the words catch in your throat, deepening his grin as he makes his way around the table towards you, “of what?”

“The things I’m decent at.” The faint scent of wine and savoury herbs still lingers on his breath as he leans in, sending your thoughts reeling ss you watch his features come in and out of focus before you. He brings a hand up into your hair, a light touch just barely grazing your ear. You feel yourself leaning in towards him in response, a natural shift towards him and he chuckles low and dark next to your ear before pulling away with a grin.

The sudden absence shocks you awake like a cold shower as he stands before you brandishing a coin in triumph, “you had something behind your ear.” He drops the coin into your hand and you stare at it, aghast.

“A magic trick? You wanted to show me a magic trick?”

“Good, right?” He laughs, “one of my bandmates taught me how to do it. Why? What were you expecting?”

“I--” you stammer, mind still reeling from the dramatic shift in atmosphere. He leans back in towards you.

“Were you expecting something else?” His features come into full focus, a glint of mischief shining in the honey browns of his eyes. He hovers and you pause a moment to study his features up close. The slight imperfections in his skin, the gentle curve of his cheek as it meets the corners of his upturned lips. You open your mouth to speak, but think better of it.

Instead you give in. You take the opportunity and move, barely an inch, towards him. Closing the gap between you and pressing your lips against his. He gives out a small groan of alarm, clearly not expecting the boldness, before he deepens the kiss. You lean back with him until your back is pressed against the hard wood of the chair, pinning you to his chest. His arms snake around your waist, supportive and grasping and he pulls you to stand with him--wine stained lips never ceasing their movements against yours.

The dinner sits abandoned half-eaten on the table as you stumble together, wrapped in each other's arms, and fall into bed. Whatever fragile distance between you, kept to preserve your already wounded hearts, slips away as you lay each other bare in the crisp, white sheets. The feel of his golden skin against yours, the warmth of him melting away any worries gnawing at the back of your mind.

Any thoughts outside of this moment. For now. For tonight. You fall asleep in his arms and your dreams are peaceful for the first time in a week.

The bright sun filters in through the sheer curtains and you wake up wrapped in Donghyuck’s arms. You settle in, curling up tighter to his side and breathe deeply. ‘I could stay here forever,’ you think, a soft smile stretches over your lips as he tightens his arms around you in his sleep. You feel at home for the first time since getting off the plane, happiness singing through your limbs in the amber glow of the morning.

At least until your thoughts return and your peace is disturbed by the unwelcome reminder that you’ve only got 4 days left until Donghyuck flies back home. Until you’re left alone again in this house that only feels like a home because of his presence. As if sensing the shift in the atmosphere, he stirs awake--pressing a sleepy kiss to the top of your head.

“Good morning,” he sighs, loosening his hold on your slightly to stretch his legs out underneath the comforter.

“Morning,” you try to match his smile, the cheerful tone, but the worry slips through in between and despite the sleep still hanging around his head he catches it, ever observant.

“Did you sleep well?” He asks, brushing a stray lock of hair out of your eyes.

“Yeah,” you sigh, leaning into his touch despite yourself. “Too well, I think.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” he laughs lightly before his face regains an expression of casual concern. “What’s wrong?”

“I just,” you hesitate and he runs his hand down your arm--soothing. For a moment you contemplate just burying your worries. Hiding them far away in the dark of your mind to be dug up only after he leaves so you can parse through them alone in silence. The temptation to hide in his warmth and bask in his glow for the remainder of your days here is strong, but something in his expression stops you. Invites you in to share your thoughts, “what happens when we leave here? You’ve only got a few more days left and then...what?”

Vulnerability never came naturally to you. It was always easier to hide--from your thoughts and from others’ reactions to them. But as Donghyuck wraps you back in his arms with a gentle squeeze, you think maybe it wasn’t the vulnerability. Maybe it was just the people you were scared of. “Are you worried I’m going to forget about you?”

“A little bit, yeah,” you laugh, grateful for the comfort that never seems to disappear when you’re around him.

“I don’t know what happens,” he admits and the expression of sincerity on his face--one free of the usual teasing or mischief--tugs at the fraying threads of your worries until they start to unravel in your palm. “I’m not sure where we go from here, but I do know that I don’t want to spend the last four days we have together worrying about it. So you shouldn’t either.”

He emphasises his last sentence with a firm poke to your forehead and you laugh. The conscious choice to release your worries, to throw the frayed threads out into the snow and be done with them, presents itself and for once--you take it. You press your lips against his once more and set free your worries tangled in the soft flesh of his limbs.

“Okay, for real I have to go now,” Donghyuck stands in the entrance of the small house dressed in his winter coat, arms tightly encircling you as he sighs against the side of your neck.

“I know, you can let me go anytime, Hyuck,” you laugh as his embrace merely tightens. He peppers your face, your head, your neck with kisses before finally pulling away and picking up his bag.

“You have my number, right?”

“Yes, you double checked it three times this morning.”

“Okay,” he nods, lip between his teeth. “And I have your number?”

“Yes, do you want to call it again to make sure or was the four times you did that earlier enough?”

He groans dramatically, throwing his head back before running his eyes over you--head to toe--as if to imprint this image of you, standing before him wrapped in your onesie, into his brain. “Okay, for real ______, you need to let me leave. I’m going to miss my flight.”

“Then go, you weirdo,” the laughter comes despite the knot in your stomach. Seeing him now standing before your, face twisted in a dramatic grimace, pulls at your heart but still you’re not sad. You’re sure you will be later, as you drink the last bottle of Merlot alone listening to a playlist of Celine Dion’s greatest hits, but now? The sadness is an afterthought. Instead you see him, bundled up in front of you in a thick scarf, and you can’t help but smile. The last few weeks, as bizarre and unexpected as they were, made you feel alive again. Made you feel at home.

And you wouldn’t change them for anything. Not even if he left and never called. Not even if you had to watch him walk out of that door 100 times over like some twisted version of Groundhog Day.

“One more kiss,” he pouts, and you give in. Pressing your lips against his and savouring the moment. Savouring the feeling of him. You pull away after a minute and he groans, “just one more.”

One goodbye and a thousand kisses later Donghyuck leaves, taking with him all the warmth of the small house and leaving you in silence. You watch through the window as the car makes tracks through the fresh blanket of white snow; a few wayward tears escape, rolling over your cheeks as the car fades into the distance. With a sigh you pull yourself away from the window and turn on the stereo--drowning out your sorrows to the tune of 80’s pop ballads while you clean up after the whirlwind of the last few days.

The chorus of Sinead O’Connor’s Nothing Compares 2 U reverberates through the house and you wail along, elbow deep in dishwater--oblivious to the sound of the keypad at the entrance. You don’t notice Donghyuck for a minute, too lost in a state of catharsis. Singing along with Sinead as you let the tears flow freely now, mixing in with the dishwater below.

“You know,” he says, leaning against the kitchen wall, “I almost think you’re trying to make me go deaf.”

“Hyuck,” you stare at him, open mouthed, for what feels like an eternity before he ducks his heady shyly under the strength of your unwavering gaze.

“I just--” he stammers, rubbing the back of his head with a gloved hand. “I just thought, you’re here until the 2nd anyway, right?”

“Yeah,” you say, dumbfounded, as you slip your hands out of the water--never taking your eyes off his face as he searches for the right words to say.

“It’s snowing a lot, my flight will probably be delayed anyway,” he waves a hand vaguely towards the clear blue sky outside. “Why not...stay? At least until you leave.”

Your heart thrums wildly in your chest, unable to contain the surprise and excitement of his return. “Yeah,” you smile, watching as he shuffles in front of you.

“If you....want me to be here?” The uncertainty in his voice--the quiet nervousness you hadn’t seen from him before--brings the flood of warmth back into your body.

“Of course, you idiot,” you reply, taking his face between your wet, soapy hands and pressing your lips to his. You feel the grin stretch across his face as he returns the kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Besides,” you say, a wry smile twisting up the corners of your mouth, “someone needs to finish eating all of this cheese.”

#haechan #nct #haechan fluff #nct fluff #nct-writers #cznnet #kconnet #nctcreations #kdiner #unfortunatus: paradiso #haechan angst #nct 127 fluff #haechan x reader #nct x reader #haechan scenarios #nct scenarios #donghyuck fluff #lee donghyuck fluff

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 4 years ago

Text

Real Life Tasks With Ransom Drysdale

An Advent Calendar of 24 Normal Human Tasks As Performed By A Huge Man Baby.

Day 2: That’s Not Exactly Folgers In Your Cup

Warnings: Smut (Oral) and Bad Language Words

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N- Hello! I hope y’all are as excited about this holiday special collaboration made with @what-is-your-plan-today and @jennmurawski13 as I am. It all blossomed from early morning (for me) ramblings and we decided to do it. 2020 has been a hell of a year and we all needed a little something to smile about. And come on, whats funnier then imagining Ransom Drysdale trying to be domestic? Plus it gives some feels. There will be smut written in occasionally, so please heed the warnings to each individual fic.

Also, we are alternating, but will reblog on our accounts, if you don’t want to miss any, send a message and we will get you added to the tag list. Happy Reading.

Series Masterlist

Ransom woke before you, the early morning light streaming through the window cut right across his face and he swore into the pillow while rolling to his back to sling his arm over his eyes to cut off the annoyance. He was almost there, back in that blissful state of unconsciousness when his body took over and insisted he get up. Any further attempt to return to sleep was now disrupted when natural morning urges overtook him and he sighed while lifting his arm to let the light return, blinking rapidly to adjust to the the most inconvenient thing to plague him at this hour.

Next to him you were still asleep, soundly, peacefully which made him scowl at you for being so blissfully unconscious. He envied you in this moment as he rolled up from bed and trudged into the bathroom to take care of himself. Afterwards once he came back out, he grabbed a pair of grey sweatpants and slipped them on. You would be waking up soon, and there was one thing you always wanted before anything else, even before you were pregnant, it was a must have or else. Now you valued this all that much more since his child seemed to just suck all the energy from you, savored it more then he savored his biscoff cookies.

Your coffee. And hell be damned if you didn't get your coffee.

Now typically you make it, liking a certain amount of scoops to get you through the morning, touch of cream and a little sprinkle of sugar just to take the bite out of it. Ransom has seen you make it countless times in the morning, your over sized tee hanging around your thighs and hair piled atop your head. Your eyes would be closed while you measured, you just knew it down to the action how you wanted it. He never tried to mess with your perfection. In fact he learned early on to stay out of your way the first twenty minutes in the morning unless he was taking care of you between the sheets. That was the only equivalent you were accepting of in the morning.

This morning Ransom felt a twinge of affection now that he was awake, seeing you shift into the middle of the bed and pull his pillow into your chest like you were hugging it. Gently he leaned over and brushed the flyaway hair from your forehead and pressed a kiss there before leaving the bedroom to head downstairs.

Typically you just made Ransom a coffee too, it became almost a habit for him to want it, although he didn't need it, not like you did. But yea, he craved it and decided that this morning, since he was already up, he would just do it himself. Regardless of the fact that you had forbidden him to touch the coffee maker for some reason. Which fuck it was in his kitchen, if he wanted to use it he was going to.

“Can't be that hard, dump some grounds in, put in the fucking water.” He flipped off the top of the coffee maker to see if you pre-filled it the night before, sometimes you did. Last night was not the case though. Reached into the cupboard for the precious Starbucks coffee and opened the bag to breathe in the strong coffee bean aroma. Okay, he had to admit it was a pleasant smell, and already he could feel himself feel a bit more upbeat. He ended up setting it aside and searched everywhere for the measuring spoon, leaving a slight kitchen destruction in his path of open drawers and stuff piled on top of the kitchen counter, he just eyeballed dumping the coffee in. Completely forgetting the filter in the process.

Impatiently he waited, fingers tapping on the counter as the drip drip drip started. “It would be faster just to have someone deliver.” He muttered to himself, contemplating how much you would protest possibly hiring a housekeeper. Fran was decent… enough. He thought to himself. Aside from her being the most annoying woman his grandfather had hired. Of course she could be useful when the occasion called for it. Like now, how fucking easy would it be if someone was just delivering you two the coffee in bed.

Already he knew you probably weren't going to go for it, it was fine for Harlan according to you because he needed the help. In fact when he brought it up, your eyes rolled and you scoffed at him. “You are kidding right Ransom? You are a grown ass man, do it yourself.”

When the coffee maker finally gave the last spurt, and sounded exhausted, Ransom shook his head from the memory and turned to pull down two mugs and proceeded to pour into each. It was black, blacker than usual. He sniffed it, and needless to say it was STRONG.

Ransom just kept going, grabbing your half and half, as well as the small bit of sugar you like, he stirred it all together and brought it back up the stairs.

You were just waking up when he reentered the bedroom. Your arms lifting up to hit lightly against the headboard and your wiggling fingers while giving a yawn, you inhaled the strong scent of coffee and immediately pushed to sit.

“What is that? Is that what I think it is?” Your eyes widened as Ransom set the mug down on your nightstand with a roll of his eyes.

“Well good morning to you to Princess.” he stated as you grinned at him, reaching over for the mug while he sat on the end of the bed. You didn't dare take a sniff as if to check, not with the way Ransom was watching you intently and you just took a sip.

It hit your mouth with a ferocity that brought tears to brim to your eyes, and your taste buds screamed in protest at the gritty black death you were forcing yourself to swallow, doing everything you could to keep from spitting it out. You were just thankful that this morning you were dealing with morning sickness, yet. Somehow you forced the bitter liquid down your throat and tried to keep a straight face, as you were touched with Ransom’s act of kindness, something he was still working on. But there was no hiding your expression, as hard as you tried to keep it from Ransom.

His head dropped when he saw your face. “Fucking terrible isn’t it? See this is why you should let me hire a housekeeper.”

“Ransom, it tastes just fine. And we don’t need a housekeeper. This house isn't all that big.” You rolled your eyes as you showed him you were right by taking another sip of his coffee, forcing a smile on your face.

“I always had a housekeeper, and I turned out fine.” Ransom rebutted while moving to a stand. “Put that cup down. You can make some later.” He instructed and you were quick to set it aside, relieved not to have to pretend anymore. Ransom yanked the blankets away, making you tumble a bit in bed with a yelp.

“Ransom! What are you doing?” You looked down at him as he grasped your ankles, sliding you down the bed while he moved to kneel at the end of the bed, smirking at you.

“Cant make coffee worth shit. But I can do this, and I know you like this just as much.”

He was right, the man had a mouth on him that you had a hard time resisting, even when he was pissing you off.

Fingers delved under the band of your sleep shorts and slipped them off before draping your legs over his shoulders and pressing hungry kisses along the inside of your thigh. “Okay, you have me there, maybe I do. I'm a little scared to see what you did down in the kitchen now.”

“Nothing that can't be cleaned up.” He looked up at you, and you opened your mouth to say something about how you were going to have to clean it when he let his mouth press against your cunt and his tongue bury between the folds.

That effectively distracted you, making your words stutter from the tip of your tongue into a moan while he lapped at you, shifting between quick flicks to flattening his tongue and dragging through your folds to suck at that bundle of nerves that made you gasp his name in a needy way. Your hands shoot down to twist into his hair, holding onto his scalp while he takes you apart with his mouth. Toes curled into his upper back when he teased you further, your hips starting to rock to meet the darts of his tongue in your clenching channel. You let yourself fall back into the pillows and quit trying to reason with him or make him feel better. You just let yourself experience this new attempt at treating you.

“Please Ransom, I want to come now.” You whined out while his fingers flexed on your hips, keeping you mostly pinned in place although your body was rippling to arch and grind into him. Your heels firmly pressing into his back in an attempt to lever yourself although he was firm in his hold. Unwilling to let you move just yet. Ransom sucked folds of flesh into his mouth, the lower part of his face slick when he lifted to smirk at you, and shifted a heavy forearm across your hips, careful not to press against your stomach.

“How badly do you want to come, Princess?” He licked at his lips, brighter pink with use then normal and you glared at him down your body.

“Considering I am growing you spawn in me, you think you would treat me better.” Trying your hand at using guilt to get him into giving you your orgasm, he let his fingers stretch your open, pressing into your warmth.

“You know I love you, and only treat you fucking good.” His fingers curled to stroke your fluttering walls, enticing you to come for him with every stroke against your sweet spot. “Come on Beautiful, come undone for me so we can start our day.”

You pressed to arch but he was sure to keep you held down. You started to see stars peppering your eyesight and your mouth dropped open in a silent gasp as you came for him, that rush enveloped you to send tingles all along your nerves, and your voice finally broke out in a soft cry of his name while your toes dug into his flexing back, and fingers twisted in the sheets in a weak attempt to stay grounded.

It didn't stop him, he kept lapping at your sensitive bud, sucking and driving you to another with steady strokes of his finger. “That was just one... you know we are not stopping Princess until you have had a couple more.”

Ransom couldn't make coffee to save his life, but he certainly knew how to make you come more than just the one time.

#real life tasks with ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale fic #amber writes #sweater writes #ransom drysdale au #knives out #knives out au #knives out fic

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darthkruge · 4 years ago

Note

Can I request something where Anakin takes the reader on a date for Valentine’s Day

Anakin Skywalker x Reader ~ Valentine’s Day

Summary: After learning that you’ve never had a romantic Valentine’s Day, Anakin decides to make his first one with you all the more special

Warnings: None <3

Words: 2.1k

A/N: I legit debated writing a Valentine’s Day fic because I’m always sad and lonely on this holiday. But then someone requested it (tysm anon btw) and I had this idea that allowed me to ~project~ so I hope y’all like it!!

gif credit

“What would you like to do for Valentine’s Day, my love?”

Anakin’s honey smooth voice slipped through your ear, synonymous with the way he was languidly tracing patterns up and down your back with his metal hand. You lifted your head from where you were laying on top of him to smile. You leaned forward and pressed a sloppy kiss to his lips, too exhausted to try and do so properly.

It was a week until Valentine’s Day and you would like to say you’d forgotten. Truly, it’d been on your mind for a while and, because of that, one would think you’d know exactly what you wanted to do.

And, yet, “I have no idea, Ani. Whatever you want will be wonderful, I’m sure”

“No, no, love, come on! There’s got to be something you want to do!”

You fumbled over your words for a second, wracking your brain trying to think of something that might be fun. But your mind was blank, nothing would come out. In all honesty, you didn’t know what to expect on Valentine’s Day. It was always a holiday you dreaded, as you’d never been in a relationship on the day before. You usually just curled up in your room, ate candy all day, and made sure to avoid the balcony, as you’d frequently see happy couples flaunting their love in the streets.

Now, you were one of those happy couples! And, despite your long-standing hatred for the day, you were itching to celebrate it, to at least have a memory of one good Valentine’s. But you had no clue where to begin or even what to wish for… although you’d been dating Anakin for a bit over nine months now, you were still shy and found it difficult to ask for what you wanted. You always had this residual feeling in the back of your mind that he’d be annoyed with your request and find you too needy. Logically, you knew this was impossible, but that little voice was persistent.

“Anakin, seriously, it’s alright! We can just… watch a holovid and grab dinner or something!”

At this, Anakin sat up, pulling you with him so you were looking directly into his eyes.

“Y/N, we don’t need to celebrate if you truly don’t want to… but it is our first Valentine’s Day together and I just thought it might be fun to do something to show that!” Anakin said, grasping your hands. He knew you were holding back and he hoped he could get it out of you.

“No, Ani, it’s not that, I want to, I do, I just-” You broke off, unable to put your feelings together.

Anakin nodded, trying to find a way to help you vocalize your thoughts. “Okay, what have you done in the past for the holiday? Did anything feel special? Because I’m sure I could put something together along those lines, just, of course, much better than whatever any of your old relationships gave you…”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head at his antics. “I’ve never exactly… been in this position before”

Anakin squinted, confused. You sighed in response, fiddling with his fingers to calm yourself.

“I’ve never had a real Valentine’s Day,” You continued, “And I don’t want to, like, overwhelm you or something. I don’t need a whole celebration or anything, promise! We can just do what we normally do and that’ll be fine.” You said, trying to convince both him and yourself.

Anakin looked into your eyes before placing a deep kiss on your lips.

“Angel, you’re not going to overwhelm me! And you’ve never had a real Valentine’s Day? Well, I’m going to fix that.” He said proudly

“Ani, you don’t need-”

“-Too late, my love. It’s going to be perfect.”

You broke into a big smile before leaning in to kiss him once more. He loved it when you smiled into his kisses, he loved the tangible reminder that he made you happy. Cupping your cheek, he deepened the embrace and pulled his arms around your waist as you melted into him.

When you finally broke away, you opted to rest your head on his chest, liking the grounding feeling his heartbeat gave you. As you drifted to sleep, Anakin’s fingers were running through your hair as his mind already started thinking of ways to create the perfect Valentine’s Day for you.

------

You awoke, smiling as you felt Anakin’s strong arms wrapped around you. Regardless of how many times you started your days beside him, it never failed to make butterflies appear in your stomach.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, my love.”

You hummed in agreement as Anakin leaned over to press a sloppy kiss on your cheek.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Ani.” You said, your happiness coating your words.

You whined as you felt Anakin start to get out of bed, wanting to stay enveloped in his warmth forever. He just chuckled, leaning to whisper in your ear.

“We’ll cuddle again soon, don’t worry.” And with a kiss to your cheek, he was up.

You grinned as you saw Anakin bolt out of the bedroom in a happy skip. If you were honest, you knew you were excited, too. Anakin had a knack for making you feel special; you were looking forward to what he had put together for you.

You started laughing as soon as he came back in the room, almost toppling over from how fast he was trying to get back to you. He was carrying a bouquet of beautiful flowers in one hand and a bag of… something in the other.

He plopped them down on your lap and looked at you expectantly. You tried to hide your blush as you opened the package and realized it was full of all of your favorite treats. Rummaging through, you found candies, cookies, pastries, and basically anything else you’ve ever mentioned was delicious.

“Ani… when did you have time to get all this?!”

“Well, I asked Obi-Wan to let me know when you were busy this week and then I swung by the market a few times.”

“Thank you,” You said softly, his sweetness almost overwhelming. It seemed like a small gesture but it meant the world to you; Anakin was so busy and the fact that he used his limited time off to do this for you, just because it might make you happy?! That meant everything.

As you pulled out some of your favorite baked goods, your eyes widened. “Where did you even find these?? I’ve searched the markets for them for ages and they’re never there!”

Anakin walked up beside you, pulling an arm around your shoulder. “Well those, my love, are actually made by me.”

Your head snapped up, hardly believing it. “Kriff, really?! You made them for me?!”

Anakin just nodded before you put the gifts to the side and wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him down on top of you. He landed with an “oomph!” but soon his laughter was mixing with yours as he pressed quick kisses all over your neck, making you giggle. All the while, you just held him to you, squeezing his body into yours.

“Now,” Anakin said, breaking the silence. “I set up some of your favorite holovids for us to watch together, so I was thinking you get that started and I’ll grab us some plates and you can try some of the pastries, if you want?”

By now, your cheeks hurt from smiling and you truly didn’t think it was possibly to blush this much. You were overcome with your love for him, with the way he made you feel like the only person in the entire galaxy. Kissing him, you muttered a quick “yes” before getting the holo ready.

Anakin was back in a few minutes, carrying drinks and plates. He passed you some food before settling down beside you. You instinctively moved closer to him, resting against his chest as he pressed a kiss to your hair.

You sat in comfortable silence, enjoying the holovid, food, and each other's company. As per usual, you were constantly touching each other; whether it be leaning on him, your fingers in his hair, his hands playing with yours, your legs intertwined, or soft kisses, the physical affection remained.

By now, the sun was beginning to set and Anakin pulled you up out of bed once more. You looked at him quizzically, unsure as to what he was doing.

“Come on, love. We’ve got somewhere to be” He said, holding his hand out for you.

Intrigued, you took his hand, allowing him to lead you out of the apartment and onto his speeder bike. He helped you in and you wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, anchoring yourself to him. Anakin smiled as you placed a few kisses and leaned your head against his clothed back.

He took off, the air whipping through your hair. You watched the traffic around you, giddy at the fast motion of the vehicle. You loved taking rides with him; his recklessness made you feel alive and, yet, his protectiveness allowed you to feel utterly and completely safe.

You smiled as you started to understand where he was taking you. He parked on the outskirts of Coruscant and helped you out, just as he had so many times before. You ruffled through his hair, already messy from the wind as he chuckled.

You started climbing up the ladder on the side of the abandoned building. You still remember when Anakin found it for the first time. You’d come to him, sobbing, stressed, and feeling unfathomably trapped. So he took you away. And you drove and drove until the lights and stars blended together and eventually, somehow, ended up here. Ever since, it’s been your spot.

When you got to the roof of the building, your breath caught in your throat. Looking around, you noticed beautiful string lights and candles illuminating the space. There was soft music playing from the speaker, the same music you danced to for the first time. A table was set up, dinner steaming from the plates and another bouquet of your favorite flowers sitting as the centerpiece.

“You like it?” He asked.

You turned to him, your eyes sparkling with tears and adoration as you nodded, unable to trust your voice. Anakin’s mouth turned into an amused pout at your reaction as he walked up to you and hugged you, swaying you in his hold.

“I can’t believe you’d do all this for me! It’s too much, Anakin, you didn’t need to!”

“Nonsense,” He said, running a thumb over your cheekbone, “You deserve all of this and so much more.”

You walked forward but were cut off by Anakin bolting in front of you. You froze and giggled, wondering what the kriff had gotten into him. Your giggles turned into laughter as you saw him scrambling to pull out your chair for you but decided to amuse him anyway.

“For you, my love!” Anakin combined his words with a dramatic wave of his hand, allowing you to sit before pushing your chair in and then running around the table to take his own.

“What?” Anakin said, your laughter and happiness contagious.

You reached across the table and took his hand. “Nothing, baby. You’re just really sweet”

“Thank you!” He said cheekily, quite proud of himself for pulling all this together.

Your mouth watered as you took in the wonderful food he’d prepared; you were sure Obi-Wan helped him make this happen, too, but opted not to ask. You wanted all the focus to be on Anakin and you.

As you ate, you made conversation as you normally did. This was an underrated part of your relationship with Anakin that you always reminded yourself to not take for granted. No matter what, you could talk to him about absolutely anything. He made you laugh and comforted you when you cried. You never had to force a conversation around him, the topics flowed naturally, just like your love.

Once dinner was over, you stood up and walked over to the side of the roof, looking at the sky. Anakin joined you, situating himself next to you as if it was where he was always meant to stand.

“I truly can’t thank you enough for this, Anakin. I’ve never…” You trailed off, hoping he understood. “I love you so much.”

Anakin wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. “And I love you. Forever”

There you stood, two beautiful flames, side by side. The cold wind whipped around you but, encompassed by each other’s warmth, you never burned out.

----

the link to join my taglist is in my pinned! dm me to be taken off!

permanent tags:

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anakin tags:

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kindahoping4forever · 4 years ago

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Do You Hear What I Hear? // Ashton Irwin

Day 2 of Hoe For The Hoe-lidays! Thanks to everyone who read/shared/yelled at us for yesterday’s offerings and if you missed out, all stories posted so far are linked in the event masterlist below. Cass has already posted her 🥵 Cal blurb for the day over on @cal-puddies so be sure and check that out too!

This might be my fav that I’ve written for the week and I’m excited to hear what y’all think!

Warnings: Sneaky, sleepy, sweet Boyfriend!Ash lovin’ on Christmas morning. Unprotected sex within an established relationship.

Word Count: 1585

Hoe For The Hoe-lidays Masterlist

Masterlist // Taglist and Ko-Fi linked above

Let me know what you think!

"Baby…" He whispers, voice cautious, reprimanding. “What if someone saw you?!”

You invite yourself into his bed and despite his hesitation, he instinctively wraps his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest. "Ash, it's the middle of the night, no one's awake to see me. And I missed you," you reassure him, voice muffled against the waffled fabric of his shirt.

When you called your mom to confirm plans for your Christmas visit, you can't say you were surprised to hear her casually but pointedly mention that your room was ready and they'd also cleared out the guest room for Ashton.

Your parents had always been old-fashioned and while you often found it endearing, lying in bed by yourself instead of snuggling your boyfriend in the early morning hours of Christmas had you questioning that sentiment.

After hours of tossing and turning, you impulsively made your way to the guest room, impressing yourself with how well you remember from your youthful days of sneaking around which floorboards are the creaky ones.

He presses his lips to your forehead. "Missed you too, baby. Hard to sleep without you," he confesses. "Can't remember the last night we weren't in the same bed, can you?"

You answer as you burrow yourself further into his side and he quietly chuckles at how unintelligible it is. He gently pokes you and you squeak, peeking out at him. "I said probably not since your last tour and that was over a year ago," you point out. "Even the nights I manage to get back to my place, you end up coming with me. For such an intellectual, you really don't know how to take a hint."

Ash gives an offended "hey!" and grabs you by the waist to roughhouse with you; in your playful scuffle, the legs of his silk pajama pants ride up slightly and your cold skin brushes against him. "JESUS woman, your legs are ice, what the fuck?!" He whisper-shouts in disbelief.

You pull a face at him. “I’m wearing shorts because I’m used to sleeping next to your radiator ass so technically my ice legs are your fault. Thus it’s your job to warm me up, dude,” you declare.

Even in the dark you can see the grin spreading across his face. “Oh, I’ll warm you up,” he mutters under his breath. You giggle as he brushes his hand across your face to kiss you slowly and softly. He murmurs against your lips, “Thanks for coming to see me.”

“Couldn’t let you spend the night alone, 'specially not on Christmas," you coo. You turn to your side to snuggle into him and smirk to yourself when you’re greeted by his stiff cock poking your ass. “Mmm, here I was thinking you were being sweet but it turns out you’re just happy that now you won’t have a blue Christmas.”

You feel your hair blow off your face as he exhales a laugh. “I was asleep! Give me a break,” he chuckles, nudging you forward. “And not to place blame anywhere besides nature, but you have been wiggling around quite a bit since you got in here.”

You shoot a pout over your shoulder. “I’m trying to stay warm, it’s cold!”

“Then wear pants! Oh my god,” he snickers into your shirt, pulling the neckline over with his teeth just enough for him to kiss the back of your shoulder. “Nice work on the blue balls joke by the way: subtle, holiday themed, good stuff.”

You grin as you grind against him, enjoying the sensation of him hard between your cheeks. “Oh but baby, there is nothing funny about this,” you sigh, feeling yourself get more and more turned on with each roll of your hips.

Ashton’s touch feels searingly hot in the cold air as his hand glides across your neck to tilt your chin for a kiss. It’s slow, needy and sensual, just like all your favorite morning encounters with him. His hand sneaks underneath your long sleeve tee, dancing across your stomach before shooting up to tug at your nipples. You continue moving against him until you can’t help yourself any longer and you reach behind you to squeeze him through his pajamas.

He groans into your mouth and nibbles gently at your bottom lip. “You sure, baby?” He asks quietly.

You stroke him through his pants, eyes clouding with arousal. “They won’t be awake for hours,” you promise him. He first makes a displeased noise when you stop touching him, then a hungry one when he sees you stripping off your bottoms. He pulls himself out of his pants while you settle back in.

He moves in closer behind you and you lean into him, reaching between your legs to grab his cock; you grind on it a little more, coating him with your wetness before pushing him slowly inside you.

You twist slightly so you can capture his mouth in a kiss, hoping to muffle the satisfied sighs you're dying to make. He sinks in further and further and by the time he's buried inside you, you're panting into his mouth and his hands are back under your shirt, gripping your breasts maybe a little rougher than intended, you just feel that damn good he doesn't know what to do with himself.

"Feel so full from this angle, fuck," you whisper, choking back a whine.

Ash begins to move and you both quietly gasp at how intense it is. After a few thrusts, he adjusts your legs slightly, bringing one back over his, opening you up more. "Too tight like that, baby, was gonna be over way too quick," he explains gruffly.

He rocks into you and you whimper at how deep he's able to hit now. "Not gonna be very long for me regardless, babe," you admit, sliding your hand inside his sleeve to dig your nails into the skin of his forearm.

"Oh yeah? All the sneaking around get you going?" He teases, dragging your earlobe between his teeth.

You start moving your hips along with him, hoping the extra movement doesn’t increase the noise level too much. “Honestly, maybe,” you giggle. “How’s it feel knowing I’m willing to blow up an entire holiday for your dick?”

“You said you missed me,” he protests in mock offense. A small pinch stings your ass and you giggle even more. “Thought you wanted to cuddle, turns out you were trying to get laid.”

“You’ve spoiled me, can’t even go one night without having your cock put me to sleep,” you reply cheekily, clenching around him just to hear his reaction.

The strained groan that results satisfies you more than you anticipated. “Gonna get us both in trouble,” he huffs, grabbing on to your leg for leverage as he pumps into you faster. “Can’t have the whole family knowing what their precious baby girl is really up to.”

Your hand trails down your body to find your clit and you massage it briskly, in time with his thrusts. “Your baby girl now,” you reply. Your remark gets a belabored growl out of him as you expected but it's your own moans that ring out through the stillness of the bedroom.

Ashton shushes you, hand flying to cover your mouth; if you’re being honest, both of these things only turn you on more and his hand muffles another series of cries. “Come on, baby, need you to cum for me before you wake everyone up,” he encourages you, grunting himself as he feels your pussy flutter.

You try your hardest to keep your whines in but he hits your spot in exactly the way you need and a few escape your lips as your body tenses and you pulse around his cock; you feel his hand clasp tighter over your mouth and you swear it sends another wave of tremors through you.

His breath is frantic and heavy against your skin as he fucks you through it; you’re squeezing him so tightly you’re surprised he’s still able to move inside you. He buries his face in your hair, weakly murmuring your name as his rhythm stutters and he fills you with cum.

You reach up to stroke his hair and he lazily pecks along your neck as you both come down. The mood is quiet but affectionate as he quickly helps you clean up but you’re a little surprised he doesn’t object when you climb back under the covers with him instead of heading back to your room.

“Wanna sleep in here with you,” you explain, sighing in relief as his arms envelop you once more. “I’ll leave before anyone’s up, don’t worry.”

“Whatever you think, baby,” Ash responds sleepily, squeezing your shoulder.

“Oh now that you got it in, you don’t care what happens anymore? I see,” you tease, playfully pushing a cold foot under his pant leg.

He snorts. “You snuck over to come on to me, icy girl,” he shoots back. “Lucky for me, at least there’s one part of you that’s still warm.” He pinches your inner thigh, just in case you didn’t get his point.

You gasp in mock horror, “Disrespecting your own girlfriend in her family home on Christmas?” You jab his side repeatedly until he pins your wrists to your chest and kisses you sweetly.

“I’m glad we got to have our own little holiday,” he whispers. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

You smile as you snuggle into him, eyes feeling heavier by the second. “Merry Christmas, Ash.”

————-

Taglist issues again so my apologies if you get notif’d more than once (or not at all)

@mymindwide @suchalonelysunflower @pxrxmoore @loveroflrh @ghostofmashton @sexgodashton @feliznavidaddycal

@castaway-cashton @ashtonlftv @cashtonasfuck @megz1985 @ashdork-irwin @angelicfluffs @findingliam-o @youngbloodchild @irwinsbetch @everyscarisahealingplace

@wiildflower-xxx @metalandboybands @realisticnotes @makeamovehemmings @golden166 @burstintocolor

@mfartzzz @babyoria @petunias-pet @youngblood199456 @notinthesameguey @seanna313 @zhangyixingxing1 @stardust-galaxies @zackoid

@lovelybonesetc @xsongxbirdx @justhereforcalum @ashtonangst

@laura66sos @calumrose @karajaynetoday @pilunb @jazzyangel242 @babylon-corgis @heyheyhaleyd @calmsweetcreature

@spicycal @talkfastromance4 @holystxne

@meetmedowntown @myloverboyash

@irwindoll @cheekysos @carrielfisher @lukedorkyhemmings @creampiecashton @lovelywordsblog

@trix-arent-for-kids @uh-huhh-honey�� @tobefalling @aladyofalbion @likehuhdude

@curlycalums @cxddlyash @reddesert-healourblues

@fedorable-killjoys @iamcalumswhore @i-like-5sos @Too-et-moi215

@photochic18 @kouska901 @Indermeow @dantord

#5sos smut #5 seconds of summer smut #ashton irwin smut #ashton irwin fic #holiday smut #smut #Kindahoping4forever #cass and crystal present: hoe hours #cass and crystal present: hoe for the hoelidays #cass & crystal #kh4f fic #Do You Hear What I Hear?#y'all know Cass & I love a morning sex smut #and growing up with conservative parents has led me to love a good sneaking around moment lmao #so Merry Christmas to me is what I am saying #Feedback is appreciated #and ofc don't forget new stories tomorrow!

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gubler-me-up · 4 years ago

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Request: I think to celebrate Thanksgiving you should write a little blurb about Thanksgiving with Spencer and as you're setting up all the food he keeps spouting off facts and suddenly he goes quiet like 'sorry, this is probably annoying' but you're like nooo bby I love listening to you and kiss him and it's just sweet I think that would be a cute little blurb for Thanksgiving

A/N: @jessalyn-jpeg requested I do a Thanksgiving blurb for Thanksgiving but y’all already know me and I post LATE so here I am posting this blurb three days late. Plus I celebrated my Thanksgiving last month (Canadian vibes) so I kinda forgot what day American Thanksgiving was. Regardless, I hope everyone who celebrated Thanksgiving had a safe and good time even if you couldn’t spend it with everyone you love this year ❤️ (also I made this cute lil banner on canva bc I thought I would distinguish my blurb from my fics yay or nay?)

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!reader

Category: Fluff

Content Warning: Nothing it’s just pure fluff

Word count: 720

--------------

“Spence, can you bring the plates over please?” You asked.

Spencer picked up the plates off the kitchen island and walked over to you. You were setting up the spread to your liking as Spencer was on the sidelines ready to help anywhere he could. He handed you the stack of white plates.

“Thank you, baby,” you said as you took them from him.

“You sure you don’t want me to help you set up? I feel as if I’m doing nothing,” he said.

“Don’t be silly, you’re doing enough, but if you want to do me another favour you can put the cranberry sauce into a bowl,” you said.

“You got it,” he said as he walked to the cupboard. You started placing the plates down at every empty seat, humming to yourself as you thought about the food in front of you. Your humming didn’t stop your little genius from spouting out facts.

“Y/N, did you know there wasn’t cranberry sauce or pumpkin pie during the first thanksgiving? If we were to have an authentic Thanksgiving it would consist of venison, duck, goose, fish, lobster, eel and oysters,” he said.

You hummed ‘mhm’ as you finished placing the last plate down. You continued to hum a tune as you went over to Spencer to grab the cranberry sauce from him. You could hear him following close behind you as you walked to the table.

“It’s actually quite funny how Abraham Lincoln had to be convinced by Sarah Joseph Hale, the woman who wrote “Mary Had a Little Lamb”, for 17 years to make Thanksgiving a national holiday,” he said.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise as you continued to fix the table to your liking. You realized you were missing the main centrepiece. The turkey. You turned around to go over to the kitchen counter where you had left it to cool down a bit before placing it on the table.

“Did you know there are four towns in the U.S. named “Turkey”? There’s one in Arizona, North Carolina, Texas and Louisiana,” he said.

You hummed and smiled at his fact as you made your way back to the dining table to place the turkey in the centre. He helped move dishes aside to give you the room you needed to place it down. You took a step back to admire your setup and also admire the food you were about to indulge in.

“Only male turkey’s gobble while female turkey’s cackle. It’s actually interesting how…Sorry,” he said.

You looked up from the table to see him awkwardly looking down at the floor. You furrowed your eyebrows as you walked over to him. You grabbed his chin so his eyes could focus on you instead of his feet.

“Sorry for what?” You asked.

“For rambling. I know it can be annoying especially since you’re trying to concentrate,” he said.

You smiled at him before you leaned in to give him a soft peck on the lips. You tucked a loose curl behind his ear as you stroked your thumb on his cheek. He instantly dissolved his worried look as he melted into the touch of your soft hands.

“Baby, I love hearing your facts. I think they’re the only thing keeping me stress-free right now,” you said.

“Really?” He asked.

“Of course, silly genius,” you said as you leaned in for another kiss.

He wrapped his arms around your waist as he pulled you in closer. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you caught onto him wanting to hold onto the kiss a little longer. You two could have stayed like that for a whole hour but the doorbell rang. You leaned away from him and cupped his hands in your palms.

“We’ll continue this later. I think that’s Derek and Savannah at the door. Make sure the tv’s on the right channel for the football game,” you said before you left his grip to go answer the door.

“Interestingly enough the tradition of football on Thanksgiving began in 1876 with a game between Princeton and Yale but the first NFL Thanksgiving games weren’t played until 1920. Fascinating, right?” He said.

You giggled. “Very. Maybe you and Derek will have more to talk about during the game than you thought.”

—–

Tagged: @shadyladyperfection, @slutforthegubes, @pinkdiamond1016, @spencerreidsthings, @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto, @slutforsr @bxtchboy69, @fallinallinmendes @haihappen5 @mgg-theprettiestboy @siltuz-png @ptrs-prkrs @tclaerh @agentadhd @alexmarie29 @closetedreidstan @mac99martin @blxckhearthood @jesspavlik0vsky @katexrichardson @keniaasf @reidbuck @corishirogane3 @thegoddamncrazycatlady @keniaasf @pastelbabygirl19 @shadybagelsludgecolor @bootycrackraisinjuice @vintagebeauty1496 @bluerose512 @ogoc-19

MASTERLIST

#spencer reid #dr. spencer reid #dr.spencer reid #Spencerreid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid blurb #mgg #Matthew Gray Gubler #Criminal Minds #criminalminds #criminal minds blurb

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colorseeingchick · 4 years ago

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Onigiri and Second Chances

Pairing: Osamu Miya x Reader

Summary: The Black Jackals are hosting a Christmas party, and Osamu agrees to come. But there’s some details Atsumu forgot to tell him- 1, he’s supposed to mass-make Onigiri for the party, and 2, a figure from his past is making a reappearance.

Warnings: Mostly Fluff, some Angst, suggestive content, swearing

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays everyone! This is far from my best work but I hope its fun regardless !

Osamu swears he can see his breath crystalize before him in his kitchen as he plots the murder of his damned brother.

Well, plotting his brother’s demise is currently secondary to the molding of the onigiri in his hand. It feels odd, the contrast between the soft, squishy rice warming his palms as he meticulously works at it and the prickly cold that bites his forearms, bare and at the mercy of the cold air of his kitchen, unprotected by his rolled up sleeves.

Now, you probably have a lot of questions!

Why’s Osamu Miya making some lip-smacking onigiri at 4 pm on Christmas Eve?

Because his bitch of a brother tricked him.

Why’s he making 70?

Ask Atsumu smh (if it’s not abundantly clear, my boy Osamu is VERY salty).

Has he been here for like, 3 hours already?

Yeah, he sure as hell has.

Will he be here for a good few more?

Uh huh.

Why?

Well, Osamu doesn’t take onigiri lightly. 1. If he’s gonna make em for Atsumu’s party, he was gonna do em right. Even though Atsumu forgot to mention that onigiri was gonna be the special dish to Osamu- the one making the onigiri- until 10 am the day of, (I’m sure y’all get why Osamu is mad now) there wasn’t a chance in hell he was gonna let his dishes fall flat, especially for a party this big. He has a bunch of specialty flavors he’s been wanting to showcase anyways, and in the process of making so many for such a large number, he knows it’s easy to get lost in a ‘quantity over quality’ mindset. No matter the amount, Onigiri Miya’s quality never wavers (A/N: period king as you should).

But the AC being broken? That’s not a part of his plan. And it was just kinda, icing on his metaphorical cake of reasons why he’s pissed as hell right now. It makes him question if all this effort is really worth it, at least for tonight.

Osamu’s initially thought that, because his brother’s the host for this party, that maybe he should try to spruce up a bit, come in lookin like an acceptable counterpart to his charismatic, showy brother. But now? He’ll realistically be here in this kitchen till the time of the party, so he’ll show up lookin a lil rough. Effort that should’ve gone into his looks is not being put into his food. If Atsumu complains, Osamu will not hesitate to shove an onigiri up his-

It’s whatever. It’s not like he has anyone he needs to impress there anyways. He’s just the onigiri twin tonight.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The party is in full swing when Osamu arrives. But unlike Atsumu’s usual parties, the music wasn’t blaring- it’s festive and moderate. And despite being ‘party’ attire, everyone seems a little less scandalous. I guess that’s natural when some business representatives and officials from the volleyball world are also present. Unfortunately, this does mean that Osamu is the most underdressed, but he’s come to terms with it.

But knowing his brother, there’s no way a Miya party would be fully professional. There has to be some element of childishness or stupidity somewhere in this party-

And Osamu gets his answer when he looks up.

Mistletoe. And lots of it. It’s not everywhere everywhere. But there’s more than one, and they are seemingly strategically placed.

Osamu chuckles. Leave it to his brother to try and start shit. All this means is that he has to be careful to not end up in the wrong spot with some random person. He’ll be fine.

Giant container filled with onigiri in hand, he maneuvers his way to the kitchen, nodding and smiling at his acquaintances as he goes. As he’s about to step onto the cold tile of the kitchen, he stops dead in his tracks.

Fuck his brother.

He didn’t say anything about you being here. Somebody’ll have to stop him from slugging his asshat of a twin across the face.

“SAMMMMUUUU!!!!!” Speak of the devil.

Atsumu slings his arm over his twin’s shoulder, a cup in his other hand.

“Are ya drunk?”

“Huh? No. Gotta keep it together! I’m the host after all.” Atsumu smiles wide, rather stupidly.

“Great. If yer sober, that means I can beat the ever livin’ shit outta ya and yer gonna remember.”

“Oi, oi, what did I do!? Ya just got here!” Fear shined Atsumu’s bright eyes.

“If you could like, not beat my boyfriend up, I’d appreciate it a bit, Samu-kun,” a female voice gently chimes in.

“Homura-chan, hello.” Osamu’s shoulders relax as his brother’s level-headed girlfriend pops up in between the two, giving Osamu a side hug only to watch Atsumu pout.

“Homura…” Atsumu’s whine is enough for her to placate him with a tight hug, but she continues to face Osamu.

“Why do you wanna kill him this time? Not that you’re wrong for wanting to. I’m just curious.”

“Hey!”

“He didn’t tell me they were gon be here.” Osamu’s eyes shift to you, laughing in the kitchen, talking to Hinata and Bokuto, while filling cups with hot chocolate.

“Oh I thought you were gonna yell at him for not telling you about the onigiris till this morning.”

“That too.”

“HEY!”

“But I guess it’s my fault they’re here. I invited them, they are my best friend after all. But I should have told you. I’m sorry, Samu.”

“No, no. Its fine Homura-chan. I just…”

Osamu doesn’t know how to verbalize it. He’s had a crush on you since 2nd year, and it didn’t go anywhere even through college. You two knew each other pretty well, and he almost asked you out. Emphasis on almost. Being honest, he abandoned ship when he saw some guy kissing you after class one day- he figured he had waited for too long. He cut off communication with you soon after, despite your attempts to reach out. Homura had time and time again reminded Osamu that you didn’t hate him, and he did trust her. But that didn’t help him shake off the feeling you did, and always would, resent him.

It also did not help that his stomach jumped the moment he heard your beautiful laugh resonate in the kitchen, or that his face heated up when he saw you warmly hug your cup of hot chocolate, sipping it so gently. So cute.

He’s still whipped. Fuck.

Homura nudges his shoulder, one hand intertwined with Atsumu’s. “We’re not gonna make you talk to them-”

“maybe...” adds in Atsumu.

“-But if they come up to ya, maybe it won’t be the worst thing.”

Osamu looks down, tightly gripping the strap attached to his container. “Okay,” he quietly agrees.

Atsumu slaps his brother’s shoulder with a smile and comments, “ya know where my clothes are, grab em if ya need em” before taking his leave to go entertain other guests.

“I’m assuming you have more containers?” Homura asks, standing by Osamu’s side.

“70 onigiris definitely do not fit in here.” Osamu smiles with his quip, and she smiles back.

“Figured. I’ll help ya grab the rest. Go and put that down first.” She heads towards the front door, leaving him in the doorway.

He takes a deep breath before recomposing himself, restoring his classic blank n’ bored expression. He strides into the kitchen, placing the black container down softly and attracts eyes in the process, including yours. He feels your soft gaze somehow dig into the back of his head once he swiftly turns around, walking away back to the front door. As he steps back into the winter breeze, he’s met with Homura’s knowing gaze.

“They’re single, ya know.”

Osamu huffs out cold hair, eyes closing at the sting of the wind. And somehow, the cold sting filling his lungs eased the fear in his stomach.

“I look like shit.”

“Atsu said you could take his clothes. Let’s go pick somethin’ nice out for ya.”

This is gonna be a long night.

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Osamu sits himself on the couch, a glass of champagne in one hand. Atsumu’s maroon button-up faintly smells like his signature cologne, and although he usually hates it, something about it helps Osamu channel his brother’s cockiness confidence, which feels very helpful right about now.

But the confidence he’s tryna channel can only do so much. Suna and Akaashi are both worried as they watch Osamu space out mid conversation. Its far from normal. Suna knows exactly what’s on his best friend’s mind, while Akaashi is astute enough to make a guess.

“Myaa-sam.” Akaashi gently calls to Osamu. No response.

So Suna gives him a nice kick.

“Oi!” Osamu rubs his shin.

“Talk to them, before ya go crazy and take us all down with ya,” Suna’s tone is flat and bored, but the intensity of the statement is clear.

“I dunno…”

“Myaa-sam, don’t you think it's worth a try?” Akaashi’s approach is different, soft and coaxing.

“Ya know how awkward it’s gonna be?” His leg is bouncing now.

He wants to. Very badly. But he can’t. It might only make things worse.

“It’s only awkward if ya make it awkward. And that’s comin’ from me. Ya know, from both of our personal experiences, waiting too long is the worst mistake you can make.” Suna turns his gaze back to the kitchen, wistfulness is his voice.

“We fucked up. But yer gettin’ a second chance. Don’t do it again.”

Osamu knows Suna’s pain. He knows he’s right.

“How the hell do I even start?”

Suna’s gaze shifts to something, or someone, else before quickly locking eyes with Akaashi.

“Don’t run.” He then gets up wordlessly and walks away.

Akaashi brushes his pants off before standing, a small smile resting on his face.

“Just remember Myaa-sam, you’ll only regret the things you don’t do. It’s best to be honest,” and with that, Akaashi also walks away.

As Osamu’s eyes trace Akaashi’s path of escape, his eyes are caught by you, happily bounding towards him- a smile on your face and onigiri in hand.

Yeah, that’s you for sure. Osamu is caught between the nerves in his stomach and the fuzziness in his mind as you come up to him.

“Osamu, hello! Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, L/N.”

“Can, can I sit here?”

Don’t run.

“Yeah.”

As you sit down, he notes the distance, he notes how your arms are in front of you, he notes your smile, and he notes how your eyes shine. He notes how cute you look with the onigiri tightly held in your hands.

“Your onigiri’s are amazing! I always knew you were a great cook, but I’m so sad I never got to try them before!”

“Thank you, L/N. These definitely aren’t my best, Tsumu didn’t tell me I needed to make em till this mornin’ so… I was worried they weren’t as good.”

A lie. He knows they’re not bad. But he wants you to think they can be much better.

“If this is bad then I’ll definitely have to come by and try more! Because this is the best onigiri I’ve ever had. But maybe that’s because you’re the one who made em.” You quickly move on from your comment by taking a giant bite out of your onigiri, and Osamu hopes that you don’t see how intensely his face heats up.

Are ya, flirting? With him? Nah, yer just being you, all nice and all. But that doesn’t do anything to mitigate how much you’ve just stroked his ego.

“Sounds like classic Atsumu, to forget to tell ya something important. What was your day like? Having to prep all this so fast.” You look up at him, expectantly, eagerly ready to listen to him.

Your undivided attention does illegal things to his heart, ya know.

But just like that, you two fall into your usual pace, as if y’all had never stopped talking in the first place. He tells you stories, you add in charismatic quips, you both share laughs, and slowly the gap between you two closes. Osamu’s hand is now empty of any glasses and lounges against the back of the chair right by your head. You, on the other hand, have your legs pulled up under you, your knees gently pushing against his thigh.

“Oh my gosh I should be at more Black Jackals games from now on, this sounds amazing,” you say as you wipe a tear from your eye after laughing too hard.

“If yer goin, lemme know, I can keep ya company,” Osamu lets the words fall from his mouth before he processes what he’s saying.

You pause, soaking in his words. “Really?”

Now it’s his turn to process his offer. “Uh.. only… if yer interested-”

“I’d love that.” You smile at him, excitement clear in your voice.

As Osamu indulges himself in the sight of your smile, he realizes that some rice clung to the corner of your face. Out of instinct and enabled by proximity, his hand resting in his lap reaches out to you. His hand caresses your jaw while his thumb drags against the corner of your mouth, down over your bottom lip. Out of shock, you could do nothing but stare at him as his eyes meet yours.

In this moment, in this place, time has stopped. Osamu has one thought on his mind as he thumbs at your lips.

I need to kiss them. Now.

But then he didn’t.

Osamu sharply retracts his hand, a “ah, sorry,” running off his tongue.

“You’re, you’re fine.” You look down, flustered. “I’ll, be right back.” Osamu sighs and feels his heart start to sting as you walk away, head lowered.

Fuck me. I fucked up again, didn’t I? I just didn’t want to do anything they didn’t want.

Osamu snaps back to reality as he feels a hard slap against the back of his head.

He’s ready to fight when he turns around, only to see Homura and Atsumu behind the couch.

“The fuck was that, Samu?” Atsumu aggressively yell whispers.

“What doya mean!” He knows what Atsumu means. He hates admitting Tsumu is right, but he can’t admit that.

Homura’s disappointed glare quiets him down. “Don’t do anything you don’t want to, Osamu. But if you want it, you can’t keep running away. And don’t lead them on either, that ain’t fair.”

“I didn’t know if they wanted to…” Hasn’t that always been the problem? Osamu is a confident guy. He pulls a lotta people, pretty consistently too. But you were different, always had been. Osamu never wanted to hurt you, never wanted to make you uncomfortable. Never wanted to ruin your friendship. But in trying to do that, once it was too late, he knew that’s exactly what he did. And he couldn’t find it in himself to do that again.

“They want it. I know my best friend. They want you as much as you want them, headass. So if you’re not gonna make a move, I will.” With that, Homura turns on her heels and walks away, Atsumu glaring at his brother while his girlfriend pulls him along.

That’s definitely a threat. What does it mean? Who knows! But better to not find out.

Osamu’s eyes scan the room and he finds Suna leaning up against a wall, Akaashi standing next to him. Suna’s lazy gaze makes contact with Osamu’s for a moment before closing while sipping at his hot chocolate. Akaashi’s squint also feels more piercing in this moment.

My boys are talkin’ shit about me? Incorrect, Samu. In case you have not realized, your boys are not the type to talk in the first place.

I deserve it this time though. He rubs the back of his neck as he stands up to stretch.

You do regret the things you don’t do. Dammit Akaashi. Time to talk it out.

Osamu strides through the house tryna find you. He finds you stepping down the stairs, wiping at your face. His heart shatters and he really wants nothing but to hug you. But he resists, mind determined.

“L/N.”

“Osamu! Hi um… I’m so sorry if I’ve been bothering you.”

“L/N.”

“I’ll just let you go, I don’t wanna make you anymore uncomfortable.”

“Y/N.” Osamu grabs your arm as you try and walk away and gently tugs you to face him. “Please. Can we talk?”

You pause, take a deep breath, and then turn to him, eyes still ensuring him that he has your undivided attention.

With butterflies fluttering in his stomach, he calmly speaks. “I like you.”

Your eyes widen.

“I like you a lot. Since 2nd year-”

“In college?”

“High school.”

You shudder and tears pool in the corners of your eyes. Instinct takes over Osamu as he pulls you forward with all his weight, throwing you against his chest as he wraps his arms around you.

“I’m sorry I never told ya,” he whispers to you as he rocks you side to side, your face buried in his chest and your arms tight around his back.

“I’ve always been so scared of, hurtin ya. You were one of my close friends, and I didn’t wanna mess it up over feelings. I didn’t wanna lose ya.”

You nuzzle against his chest as he feels you start to shake.

“But when I saw that guy kissin ya one day, I thought… I thought I lost you anyways. I realized I waited too long and that I made a mistake. And then I proceeded to do everythin’ I never wanted to do, I hurt ya and I fucked up our friendship.”

“Osamu, I never wanted him to kiss me.” Your voice cracks.

“...What?” His eyes go wide with concern and confusion.

“He kissed me outta the blue. I thought we were just friends but he didn’t see it that way. I was just being myself, though. But right after that I told him there was someone else I liked.”

Osamu internally hits himself. Maybe he should just ask Atsumu to punch him. How could he be so fuckin’ stupid?

“I was gonna confess to you after that, but that’s when you dipped on me. I didn’t know what I did, and Homura told me to talk to you and find out for myself- she said it’d be fine if I talked to you, and that I should learn to communicate with you but I… I didn’t reach out. That’s my fault.”

Osamu pulls you closer to him, crushing you as much as he could. It’s his turn to shed a few tears, in frustration and pain. He coulda been with you all this time, but he was being a headass. Maybe Homura should punch him instead.

“I’m...I’m so so sorry Y/N. I missed ya so much.” He cradles you in his arms, a calming (self-calming) sigh falling through his lips.

“I’ve missed you too, Samu.”

You two look at each other for a good, long moment before small smiles crawl onto your faces. Osamu pulls you against him once more.

“Let’s try this again. I wanna get it right this time.”

“Sounds good to me.” You say, sniffles stopping and giggles rising out of your chest.

He buries his nose into the top of your head drawing in the sweet smell of your shampoo while his hands grab onto your fluffy sweater.

“So cute! NOW KISS.” You and Osamu jolt out of your hug when Atsumu barks. All Osamu’s (and your) friends had now come to look at you two, smiles all around.

Akaashi smiles fondly. Suna smiles lazily, and your favorite dumb Black Jackals (Bokuto and Hinata), who were unaware of any history between you two, are now in shock while also smiling like crazy.

“Get it, Mya-samm!” Bokuto cheers out, causing everyone to erupt into laughter.

“Wait, wait!” Atsumu runs down the hall, jumps, and then runs right up to his twin. He then proceeds to hold a mistletoe right above yours and Osamu’s head.

“ I’ve been waitin’ for this shit to happen for Ion even know how many years. No chickenin’ out of it this time.”

“Wasn’t planning on it, jackass.”

Osamu’s hands find their way to your cheeks, gently caressing it with his fingers running up and down your jaw. His eyes take their time inspecting every inch of your face, mentally mapping every beautiful feature that adorns you. With the fire hot in his stomach and his lips aching, he pulls your face to meet his, lips gently massaging yours, telling you everything he had said earlier all over again, but this time with his actions.

He likes you. A lot. For years. And he’s missed you so much.

He slows the kiss down, taking his time to let you feel his lips against yours. When your hands reach up to hold his face he can’t help but try and pull you closer.

As he pulls away after a mere 30 seconds, which did indeed feel like forever, his adrenaline is pumping and his smile is uncontrollable. The whooping and hollering slowly starts to die down, not that either of you heard it while so focused on the other.

Osamu’s eyes find Suna’s. Suna has his camera out, as per usual, but his face has a small smile on it, and he nods to his best friend. With that, he nudges Akaashi and they walk back to to the family room.

“Alright alright let’s get going boys. We have games that need to be played.” Homura grabs Bokuto and Hinata by the arm and collar (respectively) after giving a look to you.

In that moment, Atsumu winked at Osamu while doing the ‘okay’ sign with his hands before walking to the room with everyone else.

It was a signal the two had established way back in high school, when he and Homura started dating. It was their nonverbal sign of permission to the other twin for guaranteed privacy- which was important in a household of shared rooms and shared, well, everything.

“What now Samu?” You look up at him, tugging him closer now that everyone else was gone.

“I’m not done with ya just yet.” He smiles down at you, his eyes mischievous.

You tilt your head in confusion.

“I’m throwin ya over my shoulder, okay?”

“Yes but why-”

With that, Osamu sweeps you off the floor and throws you over his right shoulder easily.

“I messed up for years of my life, and now I have to make up for lost time. I told ya I’m not done with ya just yet.”

Osamu proceeds to carry you up the stairs, giggles falling from your mouth.

He’s gonna make sure you know much he really likes you. He’ll shower you in so much love, there won’t be a doubt left in your mind.

He promises.

Epilogue- the next day

As the Black Jackals all slept like logs in their rooms, the smell of pancakes and coffee filled the air, attracting some of the other guests.

Some of the other boys, Suna, Akaashi, and Osamu, had all slept over, and were the among the first to find their way to the kitchen.

“Samu, did Y/N get home ok?” Homura asks him while flipping some pancakes at the stove.

Rubbing his eyes as he approaches her with a cup of coffee in hand, he nods. “Happy n’ safe.”

“I’m very glad.”

“Homura-chan, I have a question for ya.”

“Yes?”

“You knew both of our sides of the story from a long time ago. Why did ya never say anythin’? I’m not mad but I’m tryna figure it out.”

She smiles before saying, “It didn’t feel right. I love you both. A lot, obviously. But I think we both know intervening can... make things worse. A lot worse.”

A shared memory flashes through their minds.

“And on top of that, I don’t think it would’ve solved the real issue both of you had. I wanted y’all to be happy in a relationship, but that meant y’all would have some barriers to cross. Y’all needed to grow before you could work as a couple. So I figured time would do its work.”

“Although!!” Atsumu’s bright voice cuts in as he marches into the kitchen, wrapping his girlfriend in his arms, “us not telling you they were coming yesterday was 100% planned.”

“And not telling me about onigiris?”

“Yeah that was intentional. Had to keep ya away from the house long enough.”

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill ya, Tsumu.”

A/N: I hope y’all enjoyed! The ambiguity with Suna, Osamu, and Homura was intentional, so stay tuned!!!

#haikyu #haikyuu #haikyu fluff #haikyu angst #osamu miya #osamu x reader #osamu fluff #osamu angst #haikyu x reader #haikyu oneshot #haikyu imagines #haikyu imagine #osamu imagine #miya osamu imagines #osamu miya x reader #osamu x you #osamu miya x you #osamu miya x y/n #colorseeingchick writes

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