#the worst thing about christmas is that i’m going to my brothers place for tonight’s celebrations but

[koushuwu]

“i’m gonna go back to sleep.” “i’ve set an alarm for 11am.”. yeah, well maybe you shouldn’t go and check your phone at 8am then, bitch (me). i know i can’t fall back asleep when i’ve on the phone for more than 10 minutes, bro. and here i am one hour later. guess i should just get up then

[donutloverxo]

Good little girl

*gif is not mine*

Note - Requested by @holacia2 and a part two to good little wife. And special thanks to @gotnofucks for all her help! I'm so overwhelmed with all the love that fic got I hope y'all like this little follow up as well❤❤

Dividers by @firefly-graphics.

Summary - Married life isn't always easy. Will you be able to solve your problems?

Warnings - 18+ only explicit sexual content, younger woman/older man, daddy kink, soft dark!Andy, SO MUCH MISOGYNY, housewife kink, innocence kink, (accusations of) cheating, arranged/forced marriage, spanking, possessive Andy.

Pairing - Mob!Andy Barber x reader

Word count - 4.9k

Masterlist is linked in the bio and the pinned post!

You handed your mother the brownies you had baked, she thanked you, telling you how it was so unnecessary, before Andy placed the wine you had gotten on the way over on the kitchen counter.

“Why don’t you go keep your father in law company, Andrew?” your mom told him. He only nodded before making way to his boss.

“So? How are things going with him?” she asked. “You are positively glowing honey! Do you have any good news yet?”

“Mom!” you gasped.

Over the past seven months you had only seen your mother a handful of times. You were still a bit upset with her for marrying you off to an older man you barely knew, a man who you thought despised you so much he refused to even touch you.

You knew she didn’t really have a say in it. Your father never really valued her opinion, there was no way she would’ve been able to stop it but she hadn’t even so much as tried.

“No, I don’t. And I won’t any time soon,” you huffed.

While being a mother was something you’d like to experience someday, you didn’t know if you were quite ready for it yet. Which was good because Andy didn’t want kids for the next few years either, he had taken you to a doctor to get you on birth control as soon as the holidays were over.

He stated that he wasn’t ready to share you just yet. That he wasn’t sure he wants his kids to be a part of the mob, which you didn’t want either.

“Oh, but you have to, cookie. I need a distraction. Being a mom is all I’ve ever known and ever since you left the house has been so empty.”

“Well, what about daddy?” you frowned. He had never really liked spending time with your siblings or your mother, but to leave her be on her own like that.

“He’s always with Charlotte,” she rolled her eyes. “I would’ve been fine with it, he’s always been like that, can’t expect him to change now, but he brought her here, now, to a family dinner.” She sighed in resignation.

You had heard a familiar high pitched annoying laugh upon coming home, but you thought that to be one of your brothers floozies.

Charlotte, or Cherry, used to be a good friend of yours in college. Before you brought her home for the holidays of your freshman year and she decided to shack up with your married father, who was almost thrice her age. You lost touch with her after that.

“I’m telling you, honey, a kid is a good way of securing your marriage and starting a family. You are young now... but you will grow old someday. Andrew’s a good man... but he is still a man at the end of the day.”

You scoffed at that, “I won’t have you talking that way about my husband! We are already a family, we’re in love each other and he’s nothing like dad.”

She gave you a teary smile, “Young love--is just so innocent and beautiful. You always see the best in people, cookie. I hope I’m wrong about this. Any man would be an idiot to not appreciate you.”

“Andy does appreciate me. And take good care of me, ma...” you trailed off.

He did take good care of you. After the night you consummated your marriage he brought you breakfast in bed. He hadn’t kept his hands off of you for the past few weeks, doting on you any chance he could get, telling you he loved you every chance he got.

But you wondered... did he love you?

The kind of love you’d only ever read about in classical novels. The kind of love you’d dreamt of having ever since you could remember, the kind you thought you once had with someone, but didn’t. You didn’t love Alex the way you love Andy. You were in love with the idea of Alex. You knew Andy now. You knew how kind, passionate and fierce he was, your love for him consumed every single part of you. Where you would literally die for him.

But did he love you for you. Or was he just lonely because it was Christmas. You had avoided taking the tree and the decorations down, begging him, even dropping to your knees and making love to him with your mouth, you didn’t know much but Cherry had taught you that you could get men to do anything for you just by kneeling before them.

While he was very obviously pleased with your passion, returning the favor tenfold, till your thighs burned from his bread and you were shouting for him to stop, he still took the decorations down. He said he wanted to start anew this year. He made a resolution to be the best husband he could.

But you were going to protect your heart this time, hope for the best but still prepare for the worst.

Unfortunately, you had been seated next to Cherry. You found out that your father was living with her now and that while she had hoped he’d leave his wife for her there, but apparently there was no such luck.

“They never leave their wives do they,” she shook her head. “Oh I’m sorry! I shouldn’t be saying these things to you...”

“Its alright,” you shrugged. It would be hard to see your mother be unhappy but there was never any love between your parents. Your mother had learned to live without him and find happiness in other things, and other people, she was just a bit more sneaky about it.

“Well...” you hesitated “how do you keep a man?”

“What kind of question is that?” she giggled. “There are many ways to keep a man but you’ll have to be a bit more specific...”

You ended up changing the subject. The kind of questions you wanted to ask were not suitable for the dinner table, and you didn’t like the way Andy was staring daggers at the pair of you, almost displeased with the two of you chatting.

***

You smiled at him from the passenger seat when he put his hand on your knee, giving it a light squeeze. He had been quite the whole ride home so you decided to speak first.

“Can’t believe Cherry’s like my... step mom.” You laughed out loud at such a ridiculous notion.

“Step mom?” he furrowed his brows, turning his head to look at you.

“Oh I’m just joking,” you waved him off. “Dad would never leave my ma. He’ll move on to another one soon enough.”

He hummed, nodding, “Alright. I was just worried she was troubling you at dinner.”

“What would you have done if she was? Would you swop in like a knight in shining armor and save me from the big meanie?”

“You know I would,” he smiled.

You had asked for a piggy back ride from Andy from the garage to your home, he rolled his eyes and tried to say no but then gave in when you used your princess eyes on him.

He placed you on top of your bed, kissing the tip of your nose, he started unbuttoning his shirt to get ready for bed.

“Andy... um... Daddy?” you corrected yourself instantly.

He liked you addressing him as that whenever you both were alone, he had warned you that you would receive a punishment if you ever failed to comply.

You didn’t know what his punishment would be and you didn’t plan on finding out anytime soon. You’d withhold all affection from him if he ever dared take away the platinum card from you, or lower your allowance as your father had told him to at the dinner, ‘to tame you' supposedly.

But that wasn’t a very good plan... what if he just looked for love elsewhere.

“What is it, honey?” he asked.

“Um... do you think... you would ever take a mistress?” you gulped and prepared yourself for his answer.

“I wouldn’t...” you sighed in relief, “one woman is enough trouble.” he said flatly.

“Daddy!!” you whined, stomping your foot on the floor and folding your hands over your chest.

And he had the audacity to laugh. His laughter at your expense only fuelled your anger. “Do you want to sleep on the couch tonight?”

He finally stopped laughing, “Look at you being a big girl,” he tried to pinch your cheek but you swatted his hand away. “You don’t wanna be daddy’s little girl anymore?” he pouted.

“No... no I do!” you answered all too eager. “I’m sorry...”

“I’m sorry too, honey. I shouldn’t be making fun of you.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” you hugged his hard stomach, rubbing your cheek against his undershirt. “It’s mean, and you promised not to be mean to me.”

“I was just teasing,” he cooed, stroking your hair. And while you knew that and secretly enjoyed it even, you still wanted a serious answer out of him.

“I intend to keep my vows forever. There is just no way I could ever want anyone who’s not you.”

“Really?” you propped your chin on his abdomen, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Promise.”

***

“Um... I’m here to see Andy,” you told the lady sitting outside of, what you had been told was Andy’s office, you assumed her to be his secretary Erica.

You always packed a lunchbox for Andy, always remembering to leave a sweet note for him and he would always call you to thank you for it. You also made sure to have dinner ready before he got home on the nights he wasn’t taking you out on the town. It was just your duty as a good wife.

But Andy had been working way too much the past couple of weeks. Where he would be gone before you wake up and be back when you were already in bed. You knew his job was demanding, working for your father and being a partner in a law firm, the job was like a mistress, stealing your man away...

So you simply decided to make his favorite, food pack it up and come to him to eat it together.

“Mrs Barber! It’s so nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you,” she gave you a toothy smile, shaking your hand.

You would’ve been happy, elated that Andy talks so much about you at work. If you hadn’t smelled her perfume. So familiar... you couldn’t quite place it at first but then you remembered.

The night you had slaved away, hoping to profess your love to your husband, when he had rejected you and smelled of chanel.

“That’s a nice scent...” you wondered out loud.

“Oh thank you! I love it as well,” she said, taking in a whiff of the inside of her wrist. “It’s the new chanel one!”

“Hmm....”

You almost didn’t hear Andy calling for you. “What a nice surprise.” He kissed your cheek.

You set the food before him, thinking of telling him what was on your mind.

Was he really so cliché to have an affair with his secretary?

Could you really blame him though? Although you had been married for almost seven months, you were strangers living under the same roof for the majority of them. He wasn’t really cheating... but what if he was still doing it?

“Honey,” he shook you to get your attention. “What’s up with you today? I have a meeting in a few minutes.”

“You’re always working.” You complained.

“Well...” he grinned, grabbing at your thighs and pulling you on his lap, “I have to. If I had the choice I would never come into work, I would stay home forever, between your legs, right... here,” he snaked a hand up your leg and stroked the inside of your thigh. “You would like that wouldn’t you?”

You nodded, “I’ve been so lonely without you.”

He hummed, biting the shell of your ear before speaking into it, “I know, honey. I miss you too. But you do still remember the number one rule right?”

“Yes, daddy. Never touch myself without your permission.”

“And why is that?”

You whined, to embarrassed to say the words, “Because... it’s your... pussy.” You replied in a small shy voice.

“That’s right, sweetheart. It’s mine to do whatever I want with,” he cupped your mould, just to demonstrate what he meant but then frowned when he felt your soft curls and wet slick against his palm.

“You’re not wearing any panties, sweetheart.” He noted, surprised to your boldness.

“Um... I must’ve forgot.”

So maybe you had ulterior motives behind coming here. Your body was used to be doted on everyday now, and to not have his touch for so long was agonising. You had hoped to maybe bend down to pick up a napkin that fell ever so conveniently and flash him, it would work, he would be driven mad.

“Forgot huh?” You nodded in reply as he gathered your slick in his fingers, tracing your labia with them. “That’s too bad, If you had left them on purpose I would’ve cancelled my meeting and fucked you right here. But since it was just an innocent mistake I wouldn’t do that,” he retreated his hand, placing a soft kiss on your hair. “Thanks for lunch.”

***

You were determined to prove your worth to Andy. If he did have a mistress, whether it be his secretary or any other woman, he would forget all about her when he saw how you could do everything for him.

You had went all out today, baking a pie and a four course meal from scratch, lighting up candles, the pink babydoll that Andy had gifted you was under your dress.

He was as always exhausted when he got home, his face visibly lighting up upon seeing you, you took his hand in yours taking him to the couch and making him a glass of whiskey, you handed it to him before kneeling on the soft rug.

“You work so hard, daddy,” you murmured as your fingers worked on unzipping his pants.

He looked at you in confusion, shaking his head, “You don’t have to do that, honey,” cupping your cheek in his plan, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb.

“But I want to make you feel good,” you blinked at him.

He groaned, unable to say no when you looked so willing to please him, but at the same time he wanted to do more with you. To cuddle and watch a movie and talk, it felt as if he hadn’t in ages.

“Very well,” he nodded.

With the green signal from him, you licked your lips, tasting some of your minty gloss, taking his length out of the confines of his underwear, you took a minute to simply marvel at the sheer size and beauty of it.

You licked a stripe up the underside of it, suckling at the crown, you remembered that he liked that the best, at least from the way he twisted his hand in your hair, pulling at it till it caused a slight burn to your scalp.

You slurped his precum up before he pushed his hips up till his tip hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag around him, didn’t take him long to come down your throat.

His neck and cheek covered in a crimson blush, his chest heaving as he threw his head back against the couch.

“You did good, honey...” he rasped. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

He absolutely loved the dinner you had made for him. But when you subtly, because you were raised to be a good lady and wife, tried to coax him to make love to you before bed, he.... rejected you.

Sure, he was kind about it. He told you he was simply tired and would make it up to you. But it was still shocking how a man as insatiable as him would ever say no. You truly didn’t know what to make of it.

***

“Oh... I don’t know about this... it’s a bit too bold for me,” you bit your lip.

“Just try it on! You might end up liking it!” Cherry urged you, putting the bright red lipstick on you without waiting for an answer, “There is nothing more classic than a red lip. Or a red anything. Men go crazy for it.” She told you.

You simply hummed through closed lips as she put some finishing touches on it. “Doesn’t that look nice?” she asked, holding up a mirror before you.

You smiled, it did look different. Maybe different was what you needed. “It’s very pretty. It makes me feel... confident?” Which was strange. Because how could a simple lipstick make you feel confident?

“See! I told you. Confidence is the key to sexiness. Now, let’s talk lingerie.”

***

“Honey, I’ve been waiting for over fifteen minutes,” you heard Andy call out to you from the bedroom.

“Just a minute,” you said, perfecting your edges with a lip brush.

This was something you had never done before. You wore a lot of lingerie for Andy, but most of them were cute pastels or white nighties or babydolls. Nothing like what you were wearing right now...

A sheer black lacy body suit that clung to your body, leaving literally nothing to the imagination.

Top that off with your red lip... you looked like some kind of dominatrix. Cherry told you that most men secretly wish to be dominated. Although you highly doubted your daddy would want anything like that. Or would he?

“Alright, I’m coming out,” you announced, before shyly stepping out, your eyes trained on the floor as you twiddled with your fingers to maybe distract you from your nerves. “What do you think?”

He was speechless. His jaw almost dropping on the floor when he saw you like that. So far from his sweet girl. You were just as much beautiful and sexy, and while it wasn’t something he was used or prefer to he would welcome it if it was what you wanted.

He extended an arm to you, ready to tell you that you were sexy, that he wanted to spend hours worshipping every inch of your body, that he wanted his cock stained the shade of red you wore on your lips, that he was ready to make up for being away for weeks.

Until he saw... that.

He lowly growled your name, making your head snap up to look at him, “What did you do to your pussy?” Because from what he could see, through the sheer material, there was nothing where your pubic hair used to be.

“Uh... I uh... waxed it...” From the tone of his voice you could tell that he wasn’t too happy about it. “Do you not like it?”

“Like?” he scoffed, shaking his head. Taking a seat on the bedding, “C'mere, let me take a closer look.”

Hesitantly, you walked the few strides it took till you were standing before him.

He studied your mould, trying to take the fabric off so he could see it more properly and then tutting when he couldn’t even open the stupid thing.

“Wait, it um... opens here I think,” you interrupted his scrutiny, undoing the zipper that was on your side and taking the suit off of you.

He sighed in resignation when he saw what you had done, making you regret your ever spending so much money and going through all that pain.

He parted your lips apart, running his fingers along your vulva, acquainting himself with this new strange feel of you, “When did do this?” his blue eyes looked up at you.

“Just a couple of days ago. It’s just hair... it’ll grow back in like three weeks.”

“Three weeks?” he scoffed.

You could feel your eyes getting misty. You tried to go all out for him, to please him, be completely naked and vulnerable before him, only to have him get angry at you.

“You don’t like it,” you sniffled.

His furrowed brow softened when he saw you crying, pulling you down till you were straddling his lap, “The question isn’t whether I like it or not,” he explained, his thumb wiping your wet cheeks, “I could... maybe live with it. But I wouldn’t prefer it.”

“Okay,” you nodded.

“But for you to have done this,” he touched your newly waxed skin and almost winced at the smoothness, “You must’ve let someone else see you naked. See what belongs to me.”

“Bu - but they were all women...” you stammered, squirming in his lap as his fingers toyed with your clit.

“It doesn’t matter,” he tutted, pushing two fingers inside you, “Only I get to see you. This is MY pussy. Only I get to decide what to do with it. Do you understand?”

You nodded, holding onto his tshirt as he twisted his fingers inside you. “So-sorry, daddy.”

“No, honey, since you were bad you don’t get to call me daddy. For tonight you will address me as sir. And of course you’ll have to be punished.”

“Punished?” you pouted. “Can’t you just let me go since it was my first strike? I’ll be good from now on I promise!”

“No, you have to learn your lesson. Come on,” you yelped as he manhandled you so you were face down across his lap, “What is your safe word?”

“Unicorns” you giggled. You thought you were so witty for coming up with it. Since he for some reason was jealous of your unicorn stuffie.

He hummed, stroking the soft skin of your butt, “How does twenty sound?”

Your eyes went wide as you gasped, looking at him over your shoulder, “No!” you said.

He didn’t really plan on spanking you... did he? He liked swatting your ass here and there, and truth be told you liked it too. But you had never been spanked or even hit as a punishment.

“Well, if not this then maybe we can make you go a week without cumming.”

Your gasp was louder and even more incredulous this time. You could most definitely take twenty swats, but just the thought of not being able to finish, after knowing what an orgasm with Andy feels like, made you shiver.

“You will count each one, and then thank me for it. You are grateful I’m teaching you, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” you nodded.

“Do you know how to count to twenty? Or would I have to teach you that too?” he asked ever so condescendingly as you huffed.

“Of course I do! I was just two semesters away from graduating college!” Never mind that you learned that in kindergarten.

“That’s good. Are you ready?” he asked, cracking his knuckles as he got in position.

With a nod from you he delivered the first slap to your right buttcheek, the sound of it reverberating in the room, his palm stinging slightly as he stroked the skin he had just punished, it was already warmer.

“One, sir. Thank you, sir,” you held onto a moan, it wasn’t half as bad as you thought it would be...

You jerked forward as he unceremoniously hit your other cheek, since you were unprepared for it, and he was much more brutal.

“Tw-two, sir,” you sniffled.

You considered throwing in the towel and saying your safe word by the time fifteen rolled around. Your behind was on fire, while you couldn’t see it, you just knew it was bruised. But you wanted to be good for Andy and it was wrong of you to do something that drastic without his permission.

“Sixteen...” you hiccupped. You could feel your slick running down your thighs but at this point... you just couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“Do you want a break?” he asked, taking pity on you.

You nodded frantically, “Yes please! Can you... can you touch me? Down there?” Since the pain in your throbbing pussy was unbearable. If you didn’t receive any attention, you might actually burst.

“Down where? Here?” He had the audacity to play down, while you were suffering, and touch the back of your knee to patronise you.

“No!” you whined.

“Well then you’ll have to be a bit more specific, princess.”

“In my... between my legs... my pussy...”

“Are you sure you deserve it though?” he asked.

You thought about it for a moment, before coming to the conclusion that, “No I don’t. Not until I finish my punishment.”

“That’s a good girl,” he praised, his hand massaging your raw ass as your heart swelled in pride.

“Nineteen, sir,” your mind was hazy. It didn’t even feel as if you were in your reality anymore... it was as if you were floating, while you could still hear and feel him spanking you, for some reason it wasn’t as painful anymore.

“The last one, doll, hang in there,” he said before delivering the last swat.

You whimpered, “Twenty, thank you, sir,” willing your nose with the back of your hand.

Andy collected your weak form in his big string arms, rocking you back and forth in his lap as he kept whispering soft praises in your hair, “My sweet beautiful doll,” he pecked you on your lips.

“Sorry about your pants, daddy...” you said when you realised what a wet mess you had made on him.

He shushed you, “Don’t you worry about that right now. Do you want to take a bath?”

You pouted, your red lip jutting out, “No.”

He chuckled, kissing your forehead, “Do you want daddy to fuck you?”

“Yes,” you nodded.

“We have to be careful about your butt, baby,” he said as he gently placed you on the mattress.

Your head on your pillow, besides your two most trusted stuffies--your unicorn and teddy. Andy only allowed you two in the bed after complaining they made it hard for him to cuddle you. You demanded he buy you a shelf to display them or you would go back to your old room. Which of course made him comply instantly.

You made grabby hands at him, impatient to have him closer to you, but then were glad he took the time to take off his tshirt so you could ogle the wide expanse of his chest, the light scattering of fuzzy hair over it, his numerous tattoos along with one of your name, which marked him as yours forever.

He took a hardened nipple in his mouth while his hand tweaked the other, nudging your legs apart to make room for him, he placed his length at your entrance.

Slowly pushing into you, letting you get accustomed to the size of him. Although your pussy was always so welcoming to him, he knew you often struggled to take him.

You whimpered at him, tears rolling off of your face. “What’s wrong, honey? Does it hurt?”

“No... it’s just so good,” you sniffled.

“Okay, just hold on,” you held onto his shoulders as he slowly fucked in to you.

Your pussy clamping around his length, the soles of your feet digging into his ass, “Can I come, daddy?”

“Of course, baby. You earned it.” He groaned, his hips hammering against yours as you bit his neck, letting out a muffled scream.

You hummed against his neck when you felt his warm release fill you up, he pulled out of you, frowning when he looked at your naked and hairless pussy, dripping with his cum.

“From now on I’ll be picking out your clothes,” he stated, rolling off of you and pulling you into his arms.

“Okay, daddy,” you hummed.

“And no more surprise bikini waxes.”

“Mmm...” If that’s what you had to do to get in trouble and be punished, then so be it. “We’ll see.”

***

Three days later

“Lotion time, doll,” Andy said, pausing the movie you were both watching to go get said lotion.

He had rubbed your lotion on your backside when he spanked you and decided that he wanted to be the one putting your body lotion on you from now on since he had too much fun doing it. He insisted on doing it twice everyday since it was still very cold.

You followed him to the bedroom, lying face down on the bed a he squeezed some on his palms, rubbing them together to warm them up.

You winced just a little, your skin still a bit sensitive, you even had to sit on a pillow the time.

“Will you be going back to work tomorrow?” you wanted to know.

He didn’t like the sadness in your voice, “Yes,” he sighed. He hated leaving you all by yourself.

“I’ll be all alone then.”

“Didn’t you want to go back to college?” He remembered you telling him that your parents forced you to drop out so that you would marry him.

“I do actually. Hate leaving things incomplete... maybe I can even go to a law school and become a lawyer like you!” you perked up.

“You’re not working for your father though, you’re too good for that world.”

“You’re too good for him too.” You said. “Maybe I can work with you.” And you and him could be like a power couple. It would be so exciting.

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm. Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

[t0wnspersonb]

Merry Christmas (Miya Atsumu x Reader)

Word Count: 2.8K

Warnings: SMUT, oral (female receiving), bad language, my shit writing, falling further in love with Miya Atsumu

Summary: It’s Christmas Eve, and you and your boyfriend had planned on exchanging gifts only for hours to go by and there’s still no sign of him. Atsumu feels incredibly guilty for being late, but he makes up for that lateness in a different way.

~~~~

Christmas came early ya’ll! I hope you like this one! I also hope that I was able to capture Atsumu’s personality and dialect accurately lol. This was a lot of fun to write and I apologize for any mistakes lol. I just really wanted to get this one out before I start getting busy with work and getting everything ready for Christmas. 

As always, let me know what you think!:)

~~~~

Shit. Atsumu knew that he fucked up. He was supposed to be at the spot hours ago. He was just too caught up in practice that time had slipped by. 

 One more set, was his mindset each time, long after the rest of the team had wanted to call it quits for the day. 

 If it wasn’t for Osamu yelling at him that Y/n had been waiting, he would still be in the gym.

 Fuck, he felt like the worst boyfriend on the planet. Having practice on Christmas Eve was one thing but forgetting about meeting up with his cute girlfriend was another. And it was fucking freezing outside, the snow heavily falling from the gray sky.

 He felt even worse knowing that the spot you guys always met up at was outside, a quiet little area nestled deep in the park you guys passed by on your way home.

 You hadn’t stayed right? Surely you would have gone home by now. 

 There was no way that you would have stayed in this weather. Regardless, Atsumu ran faster than he’s ever ran in practice. 

 There was no way…. 

 Guilt ate at his heart the minute his eyes found your figure.

 You were hunched over on the bench, cupping your glove covered hands against your mouth, attempting to blow hot air into your freezing fingers.

 Snow covered your bundled-up body, clung to your delicate lashes and hair that peaked out from under your beanie. Beside you sat a decorative bag, pristine and clearly a gift that was supposed to be given to him. 

 Atsumu didn’t think he deserved his Christmas present at this point. 

 “Y/n!” He called out, finally jogging the rest of the way until he was right in front of you, visible puffs of air escaping his lips as he tried to catch his breath. “M’sorry, I lost track of time. Ya must be freezin’... why didn’t you go to my house? Ya know that Samu is home right –”

 “Atsumu!” 

 His eyes widened as you sprang up, eyes wide and bright. A sweet smile stretched across your lips as you gazed up at him. 

 There was no sight of annoyance or sadness in your face. Something that he had expected to happen.

 But the way you were looking at him, and the way that your full cheeks and the tip of your nose was incredibly rosy and begging to be smothered in his kisses, well, he had never seen such a beautiful sight before.

 “Merry Christmas.” You breathed out, wide eyes twinkling in happiness.

 Atsumu’s face softened, his large hands reaching to cup your face. He felt a harder tug of guilt in his heart at the way you sighed and closed your eyes in content at the warmth his hands provided. 

 He didn’t deserve such a kind and sweet-hearted girl like yourself; especially when he did things like today.

 He didn’t even have your gift, it was still at his house, waiting to be picked up hours ago after he had gotten home from practice.

 “Yeah. Merry Christmas.” He murmured before pressing his hot lips to your cold ones. 

 You sighed softly, melting into his much larger body. The heat that he supplied felt incredible against your body. 

 Atsumu moved his lips tenderly against your own, hating how your usually soft and warm lips were slightly chapped and incredibly cold. 

 But the butterflies were still there, the familiar feeling of your body pressing into his was still there, and all he could think about was warming you up. 

 A kiss like this was a step in the right direction for that. 

 The longer he kissed you though, the colder you would still get. He realized that when he felt you shiver softly against him. 

 Reluctantly he pulled away, his large hands still holding your face in between warm palms. 

 “Yer an idiot.” He chuckled lightly as a soft pout formed on your lips.

 “I was waiting for you.” You pouted.

 “I know. Ya should’ve just gone home though. Look at ya.” He frowned, carefully unraveling the scarf around his neck, and wrapping it around yours. 

 He watched with gentle eyes as you shivered at the newly added warmth before you snuggled your chin deeper into the scarf, inhaling his familiar scent.

 “What about you?” You asked, voice slightly muffled from the fabric.

 “M’fine. The house is close by anyway. Let’s get ya into something warmer yeah?” He said reaching for your hand. 

 “You haven’t opened your gift yet!” You exclaimed, grabbing the bag.

 “I’ll open it at home. Come on, I don’t want ya out here in the cold any longer, yer gonna get sick.” He frowned and started tugging you on the path back home.

 The walk home was filled with laughter and conversation as you guys talked about his practice. There was still no sign of any irritation about him being late; and Atsumu still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that he had just a sweet girlfriend, he truly didn’t deserve your forgiveness or love. But he was just as greedy with you as he was when it came to volleyball.

 “Stupid.” Osamu sighed, watching from the doorway as you guys removed your shoes, Atsumu was tugging at the layers on your body now that they were soaking wet from the change in temperature. He definitely didn’t want you getting sick. 

 “Shut up!” Atsumu snapped, shooting his brother a glare; ignoring the whines of protest as he hastily yanked your outer layers off. 

 “Ya owe me some pudding for saving yer ass again. I’m sure he’d still be at practice if I hadn’t called him.” Osamu said pointedly.

 You giggled at the irritated expression on Atsumu’s face. The banter between the twins was definitely a lot better now that they were older, but it was still there.

 Atsumu clicked his tongue in annoyance, watching as his twin left his house; waving goodbye and promising that he would see them later tonight at their parents’ house.

 “So damn annoying.” Atsumu muttered under his breath before his attention was turned back to you. 

 Despite the warm temperature in the house, you were shivering. 

 “Wanna take a bath?” Atsumu asked, but he was already tugging you towards the bathroom. He still needed to shower too, and if he got it to do it with you, that was even better.

 Steam filled the room as the both of you undressed. Atsumu’s greedy eyes trailing down your body, appreciating the beauty in your nakedness. 

 “Don’t look.” You huffed, arms wrapping around your exposed body. 

 Atsumu chuckled, teasingly tugging at the strand of hair that started curling around your collarbone.

 “I’ve seen ya naked plenty of times baby. Why are you so shy now?”

 Atsumu chuckled again as he watched red bleed into your cheeks; the embarrassed, pouty look on your face was entirely adorable.

 Instead of commenting, and risking getting hit, Atsumu simply grabbed your much smaller hand and tugged you towards the spray of the shower. 

 “Sorry.” He murmured softly, watching as a deep shudder tore through your body at the heat of the water. You shook your head, eyes fluttering shut as you let the water run down your head and face, soaking you completely.

 He couldn’t tear his eyes off of you. He couldn’t voice it enough, couldn’t even remotely convey how he felt about you. He’s said it before, but he never understood why someone so soft, so pretty, wanted to be with someone like him.

 His teammates, even his brother, didn’t know either. Honestly, sometimes they didn’t think Atsumu deserved you. But he knew that too. 

 Again, he was a greedy man when it came to you. If you were willing to stay, despite all of his flaws, despite the fact that he did put volleyball over you, then he was never going to let you go. 

 “Need help washing up?” You teased, gazing up at the tall male, water clung to your lashes, making your eyes look more innocent and brighter. 

 “That’s just an excuse to touch me isn’t it?” Atsumu flirted back, reaching to yank your naked body closer to his. 

 Arousal spiked in his blood as your breasts pressed against his own skin, and the way you were looking at him… 

 How were you so pretty?

 “Of course it is. When your boyfriend is a pro volleyball player, and looks like this, you want to touch them as much as you can.” You bantered back, but your eyes were shining, reflecting back so much love and affection that it took his breath away.

 “I am pretty great, aren’t I?” He teased but his expression was incredibly soft. 

 “The best.” You murmured. 

 Atsumu’s eyes flashed dangerously, he had to have you. 

 “Let’s hurry so we can exchange gifts already.” You laughed, reaching for the soap. “I’ll help you.”

 ****

 Atsumu found himself sitting on the couch, eyes glued to the tv as you moved around the kitchen, preparing some hot chocolate for the two of you.

 “Who’s winning?” You asked, carefully setting the mugs down on the coffee table, taking your place next to him on the couch.

 Atsumu was immediately distracted, his eyes moving from the tv to your exposed legs. Your clothes were in the dryer, and you had opted for one of his shirts that was entirely too big for your frame. 

 He watched as you took a sip from the mug, your tongue darting out to lick at your lips. He couldn’t help imagining you using your tongue on something else.

 “Tsumu?” You looked at him curiously. But when you took notice of the hungry look on his face, the way his eyes seemed to zero in on you; you couldn’t help the blush and deep twinge that sparked in your lower belly. 

 “I think I’m ready for my present now.” He murmured, voice darkening as he reached to pull the mug out of your hand, placing it back on the coffee table. 

 You swallowed thickly. 

 “It’s still by the front door. I can go get it for you…” you trailed off shyly, but you knew that he wasn’t talking about that Christmas gift.

 His lips twitched in amusement, his body moving to press against your own. 

 “That wasn’t the present I was talkin’ about. I think I’ll go after the one that’s already a little unwrapped, yeah?” Thick fingers dragged softly against the bare skin of your thigh, sliding up until he was grasping the hem of his t-shirt that rested against the upper part of your leg. 

 A soft gasp escaped your lips, as he wrapped his hand around your upper thigh and pulled, causing your world to tilt as he forced you onto your back, his larger frame resting between your parted legs. 

 Atsumu yanked the piece of fabric up, causing the shirt to bundle up against your chest, your body completely exposed to him now. 

 Shyness burned in your body, manifesting into a bright red resting on your cheeks, the back of your hand coming up to cover your mouth as you casted your gaze to the side, eyes glued to the tv. 

 A low whistle sounded through Atsumu’s lips as his eyes slid over your skin. His fingers reached up, sliding against the soft skin of your belly, gently tracing along the undersides of your breasts before cupping them in warm hands. His thumb and index finger gently tweaking against your pebbling nipples. 

 Pleasure rippled through your body, causing you to whine and squirm beneath him, you could already feel slick heat beginning to accumulate between your thighs, your core burning and aching to be touched. 

 “So pretty.” He cooed, trailing his hand back down your body, gently squeezing at the flesh that sat upon your hips before he gently pried your legs open further. Atsumu moaned in appreciation at the sight of your weeping cunt, swollen and glistening. 

 “I haven’t even touched you yet and look how wet you are for me.” He breathed in awe, a thick finger gently dragging through your drenched folds, gently pressing against your puffy clit. You jumped at the sudden touch, body trembling at the zap of pleasure it gave you. 

 “Pretty baby. You want my tongue or my fingers?” he murmured, his voice deep and dark now. 

 “Both.” you whined; eyes fluttering shut as he pressed down against your clit again. 

 “My baby is being greedy today.” he grinned, large hand suddenly coming down to swat at your aching cunt. 

 The rippling sensation of his slap stung deliciously, causing your walls to clench around nothing as a low whine tore through your lips. 

 “So fucking pretty.” he breathed, and then his tongue flattened against your slit, sliding up to take your swollen clit into his mouth. Atsumu gave you no time to adjust to pleasure that trembled through your body, his movements were fast and greedy as he easily slid a thick finger against your slick walls, curling up to rub against that devastating part inside of you. 

 A sob tore through your lips as your legs trembled, moving to close together as your body tried wiggling away from the intense pleasure his mouth and fingers were giving you. Atsumu grunted against your slick cunt, the vibrations causing another whine to escape your lips. His finger slid out carefully, as his hands came up to grab at your hips, pinning you to the spot so that you couldn’t move away.

 Atsumu didn’t mind the way your thighs were squeezing his head as he sucked and licked at your perfect pussy. Your taste, your smell, the softness of your flesh; if he could choose a way to die it would be this. 

 “Atsumu!” you cried, gushing around his tongue as your orgasm hit. Your eyes were squeezed shut as you struggled to catch your breath. Your head was spinning in pleasure, body still trembling. Just like how he was in volleyball, Atsumu wasted no time; he tugged your body up, hands moving to remove the shirt completely before he tugged you onto his lap. 

 You mewled softly as you felt the hardness of his cock slide against your drenched folds, before you felt something thick and blunt being pressed against your entrance; slowly and carefully breaking you open as you clung to his broad shoulders, face pressed against his neck. 

 You moaned softly against his skin as you sunk down on his thick cock, walls fluttering and clutching at his length until he was sheathed inside you completely. Despite how many times he has had you, he was always in awe at how well you took his cock. 

 The fullness that Atsumu gave you was always shocking, and you hadn’t realized that you were making pitiful and desperate noises until Atsumu was hushing you softly, pressing his lips against your temple tenderly.

 “My pretty baby feels so good.” He moaned, gently nipping at your lobe, voice gravelly as he breathed hotly against your ear. “Gonna start movin’ ya okay?” his large hands gripped at your hips, and carefully he began sliding your body up and down, maneuvering you perfectly; his cock rubbing and stretching your walls in a way that left you whiny and breathless. 

 You could only take it as he helped you fuck yourself onto his hard member; you clung to him helplessly as he continued to drive his cock up in time with the way he moved your hips down. You whimpered and moaned into his neck, lips pressing against the skin as you attempted to smother your sounds. 

 “Start movin’ baby.” He murmured. 

 Despite the way that your legs burned, you listened, body moving on its own. Atsumu slid one of his hands against your back, trailing up to grab at the back of your neck, carefully pulling you away so that he could look at you.

 “Fuck… you like ridin’ my cock?” he groaned, eyes taking in your flushed face and glassy eyes. He didn’t give you time to answer; he pulled you in for a heated kiss, tongue clashing and rubbing against your eyes, spit drooling out the sides of your mouth and falling onto your breasts. 

 You could feel the familiar pressure of your release bubbling up in your stomach, causing your hips to snap down against his faster, his cock reaching a depth within you that caused a loud cry to escape your lips. Atsumu greedily swallowed every sound before pulling away to stare at your face. 

 “Come on baby, cum for me, yeah?” he breathed, fingers reaching down to play with your swollen clit. “Make it a good one for me.”

 Your release was devastating; body convulsing against his as you sagged into his chest, face pressed against his shoulder as you all but went limp in his grasp. 

 “Fuck.” he rasped, hips rocking faster before a loud groan escaped his mouth, his warmth spilling into your body. 

 Atsumu’s breathing was ragged as he gasped for air, his hands rubbing against your spent body carefully, one of his hands tangling into the air at the back of your head, keeping you close to him as his lips pressing against your temple once again.

 “Merry Christmas baby.” he breathed. 

 “You want your present now?” you laughed, breathless. 

 Atsumu couldn’t help but chuckle arms squeezing you tight. 

 This was a merry Christmas indeed.

[honeyhenry]

Sweet as Pie

With some much needed time off, and excitement crisp in the air, you had flown over to Jersey with your husband Henry for Christmas to stay with his family, and they had been delighted to have you both back on his homeland. You settled in to Henry’s old room, unpacking all of the gifts you had brought for his family. You knew his nieces and nephews were going to love you even more when they saw what would be lying for them under the grand Christmas tree in the living room. Secretly, you were their favourite - not that they’d ever tell their poor Uncle Henry.

The large home is tidy, but scattered with family members in every room, all feeling at home in the place where Henry and his brothers grew up. You’d been able to catch up with the relatives you didn’t often see, and promise to spend some quality time together over the holidays.

It was so sweet to watch all the children’s faces light up on Christmas morning. You were glad that you and Henry could be spared an extra few moments in bed, being the only childless couple in the house. Yet moments later, Kal had leapt onto the bed - much to Henry’s annoyance; “down Kal, careful now” -  as soon as he had heard the pattering of his small friends’ feet out in the hallways. And what Kal wanted, you usually gave him.

Which is why, at 6.45am, Kal dragged you and in turn, dragged Henry down to the living room where the rest of the family sat, with the kids lit up like the Christmas tree that their plethora of presents laid under, grinning to their bleary eyed parents who’d barely had a wink of sleep on the cold winter morning.

“You’d think after 6 years it gets easier” you’d heard someone murmur, and so you’d decided to put the kettle on for those poor souls. Luckily for you, 45 minutes later, you’re able to snuggle back into bed with Henry, warming your feet on his legs to annoy him. You kiss the offended pout right off his face, before feeling his beefy arms wrap around your waist. It’s the last thing you had recalled, as you dozed off in his arms only seconds later, feeling his fingertips rub against your hip softly.

------

The kitchen was bustling with about 10 bodies all completing their various tasks; cooking, washing, baking, roasting, timing and tasting. Well, you had kicked your husband out of the kitchen for sneaking a taste of your dessert before it was ready, chastising him out of the door. 

“You can either help properly or go and play with your siblings” you had bargained while he’d grinned, leaning against the doorframe. He raised an eyebrow, looking you up and down like you were a pastry he was keen to ravish himself; “But who is going to compliment the chef?”

With that, you’d folded your arms across your chest, blushing at his words. The cheek of that man was not lost on you, and it still got you every single time. 

And you loved him for it.

------

The meal was a total success. A wonderful soup starter, followed by a small appetiser, and then the most magnificent turkey. Feeding over 20 people - now probably closer to 30 if you were to include the children who were growing up so quickly in front of your eyes - had proven to be difficult, but it was a challenge the family had clearly tackled before.

You had been so excited to prepare the desserts, and present your dish. However, halfway through the day, somewhere between the main course, watching your nephews with their new toys, and the dessert course of the delicious homemade Christmas feast, you’d fallen asleep on the sofa completely tuckered out. Your legs rested on Henry’s lap as he’d covered you with a hand-knitted blanket that he’d once slept with as a boy. Henry’s mother speaks up, careful not to wake you. She has a gleam in her eye, not that you or even Henry notice, too wrapped up in your own cozy sleepy bubble together by the fire.

“Dessert can wait” his mother says to the gaggle of children and adults swarming the living room, “go out and get some fresh air.”

She turns to the children, specifically.  “Do not disturb your Aunt, okay?”

------

Your cheeks are warm as the fire heats the living room, and after a particularly competitive game of rugby with his brothers, nieces, and nephews, Henry quietly checks on you. He had left the room earlier when you had shifted your legs slightly, taking the opportunity to get some fresh air himself. It had indeed been a long day. His brothers had questioned your tiredness briefly, making sure you were well. With the knowledge that you were simply sleepy, they had begun to joke that you obviously just couldn’t keep up with the rest of the Cavills - despite having married into the family for 2 years and been around for the holidays for 4. Henry had promised them that you were fine -  that you still weren’t used to the long trip back to the island for the holidays. 

Not exactly a fib, he’d thought.

Kal was laid beside you, loyal as ever, watching out for anyone who may disturb your rest, sending a rumbling growl towards anyone who approached. Except Henry. 

While checking on you now to make sure you were still comfortable and resting well, he smiled, taking a picture of you wrapped up cosily by the fire, at peace in his childhood home, completely at rest and ease with him and his closest relatives. Petting Kal softly, he thanks him for looking after his mama so well.

“So?”

His mother, he hears. She’s alone for once as there was no one rushing to check for updates on food, no enquiries about the house, or any funny stories woven into a ten minute tale from her grandchildren. She’s alone, with her hands on her hips and her eyebrows raised.

Henry stands up straight. There’s nothing that can wipe the tremendously cheesy grin off of his face. He can’t even speak. Even after dessert had finished, you were the one who would be doing all the talking, the telling, the explaining.

“Mum-”

“Henry. She’s not ill. and i know you’re sensible enough to not be up the whole night with your wife...at least under my roof. So…?”

He looks over at your peaceful form, and then scratches his neck, blushing at being caught out, but also ecstatic that he can finally say something about it.

“She’s eleven weeks. We’re expecting a baby next summer”

With that, his mother almost leaps with joy over to her son, who she hugs closely despite the obvious height barrier. 

“Oh i knew it, I knew it! I’m so happy for you Henry, for you both. I thought, ‘She normally loves that bread for starter’, hm? Oh my boy! A father!”

With her proclamation, Henry finds that he has tears in his eyes as he holds his Mother close, finally glad that it’s not just a little secret between the two of you - well, the two of you and Kal, who had already been a stellar protector and big brother.

“We had planned to tell everyone after dessert…we’ve known for nearly 2 months and it’s been killing me that I couldn’t say. We’ve had to be so careful-“ 

“Henry?” he hears your quiet voice from across the room, as Kal’s collar jingles. He turns to see you sitting up from your nap with Kal booping his nose at your stomach. You’re scratching at his head, thanking him for being such a wonderful boy, while looking up at the two Cavills.

It takes less than a second for you to realise what is happening in front of you. Your jaw drops and louder than your previous call, you exclaim, “Henry you told her?”

“She worked it out! Practically forced it out of me.” he grins, holding his hands up as his Mother pretends to smack his arm.

You stand, watching not to step on Kal or any stray Legos that your nephews have left strewn across the floor, and walk over to hug her. She’s been so caring and kind since you’ve joined the family all those years ago, and you know that she will be an incredible Grandma to your little one. 

Breaking apart from the hug, you find Henry pulling you to him carefully, letting you melt into his side. Kissing your forehead he asks, for your ears only, “Good sleep? No pains? Sickness?” He has a small crease of worry between his brows and you always do your best to soften that small tense area with regular updates and sweet kisses.

“Yeah i’m okay honey” you reassure him, patting your stomach, “this ones growing up a storm in there”. 

And they really are. Henry’s mother cannot believe she’s seeing it, and mostly can’t believe she missed it. You’re already showing, but a large loose sweater -probably one of Henry’s old ones that has since become yours - over your dress, has hidden a sizeable roundness to your stomach that you were excited to finally show.

“How did I miss this!” Your mother-in-law gasps, causing you to grin, and Henry’s chest to puff with utter pride and excitement.

“I know it’s bordering on having too much to eat, but we’ve been hiding it for a couple weeks now. Doctor thinks that baby’s gonna be big. Just like their daddy.” You explain, giving your stomach another gentle rub, surprised to find Henry’s hand there on it already.

If you’d thought Kal was protective, Henry was another thing altogether.

He’s still grinning as you kiss him, before you pull away to speak more to his mother about all the details, especially when you’ll be coming over to Jersey again. Kai follows you closely, making sure you’re staying safe. He’s known that there’s something up with his mama, there has been for weeks, especially with the way his master looks after you now.

Henry, deciding to be sneaky while the two women in his life are currently distracted chatting, takes another taste of the dessert you made, now set out on the kitchen. The worst part is, he thinks he’s got away with it.

He realises he doesn’t the second you smack his hand from the dessert.

“Strike two Mr Cavill! Step away from the pie.”

“And if I don’t?” he raises an eyebrow, watching your reactions as you hold a butter knife in your hand trying to look at least vaguely threatening - failing miserably. “Maybe i’ll strike out tonight, hm?” he continues with that wonderfully mischievous glint in his eye, taking cautious steps towards you. “You look even sweeter than your pie with this little bump here. Maybe I’ll have a taste later after all.” 

Henry’s mother had not been right in her assumptions, for under her roof, you and Henry were not sensible at all.

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

please let me know what u think! i am v nervous to post but excited!!!

[capsicle-evans]

Just for Show

Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: The Evans Christmas Family get together is coming soon and Chris has to come up with a plan as to who he is taking with him

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

“What do you recommend?” I lean in to whisper to Chris, everyone too busy looking at their own menu. “I don’t know what to pick”

“Mmm the chicken parmesan pasta is always a great idea” Chris points at the small picture of the dish. “If you pair it with white wine, it’s the cherry on too”

“Mmm I don’t think I should be ordering wine” I chuckle, placing the menu back on the table. “Wine gets me in a sexy mood”

“Uff, then the more reason to do it” He grins at me, placing a hand over my knee. Oh two can play this game, Evans.

“Maybe tonight” I grin, leaning in closer so that my perfume scent engulfs him. “But I’m warning you, Evans. I can get really messy when wine is involved”

“I can handle messy, Miss Y/L/N” He says this as his hand rises up to my thigh just a little bit.

“Then I’ll make sure to be in my worst behavior” I lean in as slowly as I can, Chris’ eyes so focused on me, his lips barely open. I close the distance between our lips, the kiss a little more hot that what would be considered appropriate for a family lunch but for everyone it can look like a small kiss because I grab Chris’ neck to pull him closer so that he can conceal me for when I grace my tongue over his lips.

When I pull away, Chris’ eyes are so dark and stormy, his chest heaving. “Nobody is watching, Y/N”

“Oops, I guess I forgot” I grin. Chris is about to say something when the waiter interrupts him.

“Can I get your drinks?”

I’m the first one to order so without taking my eyes away from Chris, I tell him what I want. “I’ll have a pinot grigio”

“Do you think you are going to be able to handle yourself?” Chris whispers into my ear while everyone is ordering.

“It’s not myself that I’m worried about, Chris” I sit sideways, trying to face. “After all, you were the one watching me shower”

“But you were the one who left the door opened” He winks at me before turning back to the waiter, leaving me with my mouth wide open.

***

“Yeah, were not going out with you looking like that” Chris stands up from his couch as I reach the first floor, ready to go out with Chris and his siblings.

“Why?” I pout, looking down at my outfit. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing, babe” Scott waves Chris off. “You look hot as fuck”

“Language” Lisa giggles, earning an eye roll from Chris. “No but you do look gorgeous, honey”

“I know! I never said she didn’t” Chris reaches my side and grabs my waist. “But so will the rest of the bar”

“Oh but I only have eyes for you” I bop his nose, knowing that Chris won’t actually force me to change.

“You’ll freeze to death” He counterparts, still trying to fight me.

“I’ll take a coat” I pat his chest before looking around the room. “Where are my girls?”

“Coming” Shanna shouts as she and Carly walk up to us.

“Lets goo” I clap my hands happily as we all get up, ready to leave.

***

I call already feel sweat running down the back of my neck, my whole body buzzing after the four shots of tequila Scott dared me to drink. It’s been so long since I’ve danced like this, so freely and feeling myself.

“Damn Y/N” Scott slaps my ass playfully, earning chuckles from his sisters. “You do know how to move”

“Thanks” I grin but then I roll my eyes. “Well, at least you notice it”

“Is this about my boring brother over there?” He nods his head to the direction where Chris is. He has a glass of whiskey in his hands, the other one on his phone, his eyes not moving away from the screen.

“Yeah, he hasn’t looked at me even for a minute since we got here” I try to not sound as disappointed as I actually feel but based on the look my fake in laws give me, I know that I’m not doing a good job at it.

“No no no, you go there and you force him to look at you, god every man in this bar probably wishes they could be grinding behind you” Shanna tells me, looking back at her brother. “If you don’t go, I’ll do it myself”

“You walk there and make him want you” Scott nods before giving me a soft push towards Chris’ direction.

I try to steady my breath, trying to come up with a plan to seduce Chris without making a fool of myself. I mean, I could blame it on the alcohol just in case, but I rather not have to do it.

When I close enough, without a warning, a grab the phone from his hand and before he has a chance to protest, I step myself in between his legs, sitting down in his lap. “Can you give me back my phone?”

“Nope” I reply, wrapping my arms around his neck. ��Can you give me your attention?”

“Why? Is the attention of all the men in this bar not enough?” he scoffs, leaning back and away from me.

“Is that what this is all about? Are you jealous?” I move from his lap to rest both of my knees in the little space between his legs and I place my arms around his neck again, so basically I’m laying on top of him. “You know I don’t care about that, right? I only want your attention”

“You don’t have to lie, Scott and the girls are not close enough to hear you” He rolls his eyes before moving them away from me.

“God you are so stupid” I groan, grabbing his head to bring his focus back to me. I bring my lips up to his mouth, my tongue darting out to get a taste of his mouth. His lips are warm and soft and I can’t help but moan when his tongue meets mine.

Thank god the lighting in this bar is so dark, otherwise people would have seen the entire show Chris and I are putting on. He finally sits up straighter, his hands grabbing the back of my thighs as I dig my hands into his blond mess. I pull his head back by his hair, making him look me in the eyes.

“Chris” I try to speak but I’m so out of breath that it comes out as a moan.

“Fuck” Chris curses, his chest heaving and his hands giving my thighs a hard squeeze that earns him another moan. “We can’t do this”

I’m about to step away from him, feeling rejected when he adds “not here”.

I give him a quick kiss before standing up and stretching my hand to him. “Come dance with me then”

Chris bits his lips, a grin trying to scape, before standing up and grabbing my hand. “Lead the way”

“You know, now that I think about it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dance, Captain” I walk backwards, my hand still in his. “That time at Robert’s house you denied me of such a pleasures”

“It was for your own good” He grins, pulling my arm to stop me on my tracks. “You wouldn’t have been able to keep you hands off me”

“Cocky much?” I roll my eyes, pressing my hands against his chest as his arms circle my waist.

“You know I am, Baby” He winks at me before giving my side a squeeze. “No but all jokes aside, my dance moves suuuck”

“I think I’ll be the judge of that, Cap” I pull him closer to me, keeping my eyes on his. “Now, let’s dance”

***

“MCDONALDS MCDONALDS MCDONALDS” Scott and I chant loudly as Chris, who is sitting between us in the back, rolls his eyes.

“Shanna, we are going to have to stop at McDonalds or they won’t stop” Chris leans forward to pop his head between his sisters. “Y/N alone is a force to be reckoned with but you add Scott to the mixture and it’s worse”

“Fine, I’ll look for one not to far away” Carly pulls out her phone to look for one close as Shanna just laughs.

“You are in for a good one, brother” She giggles as Carly gives her the directions.

We finally reach the restaurant and after ordering from the drive thru, we are back in the road to home.

“Don’t get ice cream on the couch” Chris looks at me sternly as he holds my ice cream cone.

“Or what?” I flash him a grin before leaning in to suck on the ice cream still in his hand.

“Fuck” He breaths out lowly, just for me to hear. “You are killing me, woman”

“Good” I dip my finger into the ice cream before rubbing it on his cheek. “Oops, let me clean that”

I lean in, sticking ny tongue out to seductively lick the sweetness of his cheek. “Better?”

“You two knock it off” Scott fake gags as he takes his eyes away from us.

“Nobody told you to look” Chris waves off his brother before grabbing me by the back of my neck to pull me to his lips.

“Stop it or I will jump of the car”

***

“Goodnight” Chris whispers to his siblings before closing the door to his bedroom.

“Tonight was so much fun” I beam at him, my cheeks still red from the alcohol and the hot kiss Chris gave me on the car.

“You know, I get what you got nominated for an Oscar” Chris chuckles, kicking his shoes off.

“What do you mean?” I frown, popping my head from the bathroom door as I pull up my pijama shorts.

“You and the whole act you put on today” He looks at me as I step back into the room. “I’m sure everyone is convinced we are in love now”

There’s a part in me that instantly breaks, I fell my legs go numb, like my whole body just got thrown down a hill. “Oh, yeah.. the act. I mean that’s what I’m here for after all”

“Thank you” Chris stands up from the edge of the bed to place a kiss on forehead before walking towards his closet to pull out his pillows and blankets.

“No problem” I whisper softly before walking up to the bed and letting the bed spread engulf me.

“Every thing okay?” Chris asks be as I turn my back to him.

“Yup, just tired” I reply, trying hard not to cry right then and there.

“Okay” I hear him say before laying down on his made up bed. God, men are so oblivious. “Good night”

I don’t reply, already feeling the tears in the back of my eyes and my throat drying up.

“Y/N?” Chris asks again when I don’t reply.

I don’t know what happens but suddenly I’m sitting up and facing him. “No, Chris, actually, everything’s not fine because I wasn’t acting and for a second there I thought you weren’t either. For me, pretending to be in love with you stopped being an act a long time ago. Fuck I don’t think it was an act at all. And I know I promised to help you with this little stunt but I feel like if I stay and I keep pretending that this is all fake to me, I’m going to end up so heartbroken beyond repair so I think it would be best if I leave tomorrow morning”

“Y/N”

“Don’t. I don’t need your pity nor an apology or whatever it is that you are going to give me. I know that this isn’t your fault, you made it pretty clear that this was all an act and that you don’t want a relationship right now and I respect that but I also hope you respect my decision to remove myself from this situation before it gets me” I know that I’m crying now, big tears running down my cheeks.

“Can I talk?” Chris asks me from the floor where he is sitting.

“Sorry, yes” I clean my tears with the back of my hands as Chris moves to sit on the edge of the bed, next to me.

“The fact that you think that this was all on act to me is beyond me” Chris brings his hand up to caress my cheek. “I seriously thought I was being so obvious about how you made me feel that I was scared that you were just acting so that’s why I said what I said. I didn’t say it because I wanted it to me an act, a lie, I said it because I was trying to convince myself of it. Because I thought that that’s what it was to you, I didn’t want to make you feel like you had to love me back because I knew it was unfair. I’ve spent the last couple of days fighting this urge to hold you all the time, not just when my parents or my siblings are around”

“Chris, I-”

“I love you, Y/N”

*************************************************

Pleaseee dont hate me!! I had scheduled this to be posted on friday but I think I did it wrong since it didn’t! Sorry!!!

Also, this is not the last part, I’m doing one more so that should be up by friday.

Hope you like this❤️

Tag List: @patzammit @hollandprkr @hauntedmuffinoperarascal @denisemarieangelina @marianas-studyblr @justjulie1105 @itsscottiesstark @phillygirl19 @prettymuchawhore @cevansfics  @jennamarieee623 @chrisevanisliterallysir @spookyscot   @c00lkidvibes @duskangxls @supraveng @syms-things-5 @sabstrang

[alreadyblondenow]

Sugar, spice and everything not nice

▸ Doyoung x reader ▸ 1,169k words ▸ Smut, Slight fluff, Angst  ▸ Doyoung getting your ring size wrong, unprotected sex, kitchen sex, slight fingering, wedding tragedies, inspired by my favorite wedding tragedy from Sex and the city movie  ▸ Requested and part of B’s giving back event,  Ho Ho Ho?! See anon request message at the end of this drabble. 

“Babe, can you help me find my ring? I was putting some flour then my ring slipped-“

“It’s fine, it's fine I got it” Your fiancé looked through the bowl full of flour with a smile. He sure looks cute wearing that Christmas apron. “I’m sorry If I got you the wrong ring size. Are you sure you don’t want me to buy you another ring?”

He brushed the flour away from your diamond engagement ring, put it on your ring finger, and kissed your knuckles. “No it's expensive, I can’t let you splurge too much,” you said and thanked him.  

Going back to baking with Doyoung, he was taking care of the baked cookies in the oven, stacking them fresh on the tray for the guests who have yet to arrive while you on the other hand is baking the Christmas cake for the main dessert tonight. While you were stirring the batter, you felt Doyoung’s arms go around your waist in the middle of your concentration. It was silent and all you can hear is the oven and the sounds that you make while stirring the batter.

“We’ve never done it in the kitchen” he whispers, lips brushing on your nape so closely but not enough to call it a kiss.

“Well do you want to do it?” You challenged him. It was not an invitation and you said it just to tease him but he answered your question by quickly unbuttoning his pants and lifting your skirt to pull your panties to the side and put a finger in it.

“Ooohh” you moan out, obviously, you don’t want him to stop so you set aside your baking and move it where it won't spill. When all the batter is in a safe place, he lifts your right leg and finger fucked you from behind before he goes inside you.

“Doyoung-“ the feeling of his slender and cold fingers glides up and down your slit so sinful and inviting. Not long after he had made you soaking wet, he lines his cock in your entrance and pushes inside you. Harshly. That your hip bone bumps on the edge of the kitchen table. You feel your ass cheeks bounce every time he thrusts a little harder, moaning his name and telling him “ not so rough babe”

“I’m sorry, you just feel so good” he kissed your temple and promised to stop being rough. His thrust felt amazing still while his hands play with your panties, tugging and pulling whenever he feels like doing it. Thrusting faster than before, leaving you breathless and moaning. Soon, he came so hard that he accidentally thrust a little too hard while he was shooting his cum inside you. His cum drips and pools in your panties like it was your own juices.  

“I know we’ve only been together for less than a year and I asked you to marry me a little too soon than expected that I got your ring size wrong.... But I love you so much. And I want to have kids with you and be a happy family” he hugged you tightly while he was inside of you, making you moan in a pitched tone.

“Round two then?” You asked, guiding his big hands and grip your clothed boobs. But the doorbell rang and you’re both frustrated especially you who didn’t even cum.

“I’ll make you cum tonight and for the rest of your life when we get married” he left a soft kiss on your lips and told you to go clean up. “I’ll take care of the cake, and the guests” he smiles and slaps your ass when you walked away.

Three months later

Doyoung’s snoring woke you up on a very nice weekend morning. He looks like an angel sleeping beside you with his arm around your waist. You kissed him good morning but you got no response, he’s still in dreamland. It’s two weeks before your wedding and you can’t help but get nervous. And the worst part is, you’re having cold feet.

It’s not because you don’t love him, it’s just you wanted to have more time without being married yet but you cant set aside the wedding because it will sure hurt him. He was so excited about being married and you are too... but not for long.

You let out a heavy sigh and hugged Doyoung which made him wake up. “Hmm. What’s wrong?” he kissed you good morning and kept you close to him.

“Nothing. Can you make me breakfast?”

“Sure. Whatever you want. Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked and sat up to stretch his body. You wanted to keep him close for a little longer, like old times but he’s so eager to start the day already.

“Yes, do you have schedules today?”

“Mhhhm. Have to meet my parents for the house they’re giving us then have lunch with my brother- You have a fitting today, you forgot?”

“Oh right. Sorry, slipped my mind”

The rest of the morning became a wedding planning instead of your usual cuddling while eating breakfast. It’s like the ‘us’ in your relationship became blurry and everything is going too fast and you see your fiancé talking excitedly whenever he says something about the wedding preparation. And you don’t want to burst that bubble.

So you just let it be and shrugged it off.

The night before your wedding, you’re working on your vows and unfortunately.... you can’t write anything other than ‘I love you’ which sounded so lifeless whenever you read it over and over again. Then you added, ‘I'm sorry’ and surprisingly it fits on what you’re feeling lately.

All you wanted to do is slow down but Doyoung is on full throttle, like you’re not on the same page anymore.

A normal bride is usually happy on the day on her wedding. But you, you feel like you’re doing the wrong thing. You’re outside the church in your bridal car and everyone is waiting for you inside including Doyoung, you grip the envelope so tight while holding your breath. Looking for a push to finally step outside.

“Can I ask for Taeyong?” You told your driver to go get Taeyong secretly because you don’t want to cause a scene.

When Taeyong knocked from the outside, you scoop over and invited him in. “Is there a problem? You look troubled “ he said with a big smile, even Taeyong is excited for his best friend to get married.

“I can’t...” you hand him the white envelope and told him to give it to Doyoung. “I’m sorry Tae, but everything changed after the engagement. Everything.” thankfully, he nodded and understood the situation. He quickly got out of the car and made his way to his best friend on the other side of the aisle wearing the biggest smile that will soon be replaced with a frown.

And just like that, there was no wedding and happy endings.

↩︎prev next ▶︎

Dear Anon, thank you for making this Doyoung request and I hope you liked this. Just a quick story time, my mother is in the wedding industry and a lot of weddings are being cancelled right now and it’s just making me sad because I personally love weddings. So that’s where I got the wedding part, + the sex and the city moment. 

[nothingbutimagines]

The Set Up (Tom Holland)

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Warning: Cursing, mentions of drug use, sibling bickering, a bit of angst

Summary: When Y/n comes back home for the holiday season to visit family after another long semester at Uni, her family takes it upon themselves to invite her old crush, Tom, to Christmas dinner in the hopes of setting the two up together. 

Author: Dizzy

A/N: Oh geez, Christmas is approaching very quickly! Hope you all have been able to get all your Christmas shopping done (I know I haven’t)! Tomorrow is going to be a cute little Harrison Osterfield fic, so keep your eyes peeled, and today is Tom Holland as well as a few other fics I hadn’t gotten the chance to put together until today since I fell ill for a few days. 

Masterlist Request Any Of These Peter Parker/Tom Holland Masterlist

__________________

“Y/n, what are you wearing?” Your mother asked, causing you to turn away from the plate of cookies you were eating off of. 

“Uh, a hoodie and jeans?” You muttered, your statement sounding more like a question as you paused, mid bite.

“Are you really wearing that to dinner tonight? We’re going to the steakhouse.”

“I mean,” You swallowed, “I have a sweater on underneath.”

“What happened to that cute little dress I left for you on your bed?” 

“Mom, no one else is wearing a dress. Why would I?” You asked, brushing your hands off before sighing. “Lucy and Charlie are wearing sweaters and jeans too.”

“Your sisters are younger, they’re hard to get into dresses.”

“They’re 16 and 18. Not that young.” You argued. “I’m not wearing a dress. It’s just dinner with the family. You, me, Dad, Lucy, Charlie, and David. And you have all seen me at my ugliest.”

“Well, what if you run into someone you’re interested in?” Your mother asked, following you closely as you walked out of the kitchen and into the hallway. 

“Like who? Tom?” You scoffed. “Mom, I know you love Tom, but I don’t. And I know you want me to get a boyfriend, but this is getting ridiculous. Last Christmas you set me up on a date with Ms. Chasten’s nephew and now you’re telling me to pick up a guy at a restaurant?” 

“No, I wasn’t saying Tom. I know you said you no longer have a crush on him, but I’m just saying, what if you see a man you might want to date? Wouldn’t you want to look your best?”

You turned around, placing a hand on your mother’s shoulder as you smiled at her warmly. “Mom, I love you, but I’m not going to get a boyfriend just because you want me to. And I’m sure as hell never seeing Tom again, as much as I know you’d like me to.”

“Are you two ready to get going? We have a reservation to get to.” Your father interrupted, pulling his coat tighter around him. 

“Yeah, yeah. Let me get my coat on.” You pushed past the two, making your way to the door and grabbing your coat off the rack. 

You quickly pulled your hoodie over your head, hanging it up in place of your coat before pulling your coat over you. You quickly wrapped a scarf around your neck as the rest of your family began congregating by the door. 

“I thought you were going to wear a dress.” Lucy stated, looking up at you as you followed everyone out the door. 

“No, I wasn’t. Why is everyone trying to bully me into wearing a dress?” 

Lucy shrugged. “Maybe it’s because you’re ugly.”

“You’re ugly.” 

“No, I’m not. If anyone is the ugly, it’s David.”

“I heard that.” David grumbled as you piled into the car. “And for the record, if anyone is the ugly one it’s you, Luce. That’s just because you have a bad attitude and make unfunny tik toks.”

“I thought you said you liked my tik toks!” 

“I lied.” David stated, turning back around in his seat, now facing forward.

You laughed as he turned, only to receive a small pinch on your arm from Lucy, who was pouting beside you like a child. 

“Ow! That hurts, you brat!” You gasped, pushing her away and knocking her into the side of the car. “Luce, you’re like 16, cut it out!”

“And you’re like 21 but I have a boyfriend and you don’t!” 

“That’s not even a valid argument in this conversation.”

“I know, I was trying to be a bitch.” 

“You’re already a bitch. You don’t even have to try.” David interrupted, turning back around to face you both. 

“Dad! David called me a bitch!” Lucy whined as you rolled your eyes, gazing into the eyes of your younger brother who had the same expression on his face.

“David,” Your father gazed back into the rear view mirror, “it’s not polite to talk about other people’s shortcomings.” 

You started to laugh loudly, giving your younger sister a shove as the car slowed to a stop in the restaurant parking lot. 

“I hate you all.” Lucy pouted, shoving you back as you all climbed out of the car. 

“I can’t believe I still have to say this,” Your mother shook her head as you all walked into the lobby of the restaurant, “be on your best behavior, all of you, okay?”

“Hey!” Charlie spoke up, making you realize you had forgotten she was even there. “I didn’t do anything!”

“I didn’t say anyone did anything, I am just reminding you all that this is a very special evening, okay?” 

You nodded, still chuckling as you glanced over at your brother, who still had the same smirk on his face as he had in the car. You followed the group along with the hostess to your table, taking a seat before realizing there was an extra place setting beside you. 

“Oh, uh, I think there’s a mistake here.” You waved the hostess over. “There should just be six place settings.”

The hostess frowned slightly, confused. “Oh. I thought the reservation said seven people.” 

“It did.” Your mother interrupted. “The other guest will be here shortly, thank you.”

You watched the hostess nod and walk away. You turned back to your mother, furrowing your brows as you looked at her, confused. 

“I’m sorry, who else is joining us?” You asked, the confusion evident in your tone. 

“Tom!” Your mother smiled, her line of sight leading above you as you followed it, to come face to face with the boy she was referring to. 

“Hello, Mrs. L/n, and everyone else. Sorry I’m a bit late, there was some traffic.” Tom explained shyly, slipping his coat off and hanging it on his chair as he took a seat beside you. “Hi, Y/n.” 

“Hi, Tom.” You nodded at him as the inner turmoil had begun to stir in the back of your mind. 

“Oh, honey, don’t worry about it, we were just seated.” Your mother waved, almost as if she was apologetic herself. “I’m just glad you could make it.” 

“I think I’m going to go to the bar to get something to drink.” You announced, rising from your seat as you grabbed your small purse. “David, why don’t you come with me?” 

“Oh, I don’t think I’m all that thirsty.” 

“I wasn’t asking.” You muttered, giving him a look as he rose from his seat, now following you away from the table and in the direction of the bar. 

“Before you say anything-”

“How could you not have told me Tom was coming?” You snapped, causing the younger man to flinch.

“Uh.” David averting your gaze, trying to find something to say.

“Since when do you keep secrets?” 

“Since when do you cower at the sight of men?” David retorted, taking a seat on a bar stool as you followed in suit.  

“You didn’t answer my question.” 

“And you didn’t answer mine.” He huffed. “Ladies first.” 

“Ugh, fine.” You groaned, rolling your eyes. “I cower at the sight of Tom since he came with to drop me off at uni last year.” 

“Why? I thought that went really well.” 

“No, it didn’t. You were high the entire trip anyway, I doubt you remember it at all.”

“Wait, so you didn’t share a kiss with Tom?” He asked, scratching his head. “Cause I didn’t think that was a weed hallucination, but now I’m not sure.”

“No, I did kiss Tom. But, that’s not the problem.” You shook your head. “I kissed Tom outside my building when you and Charlie were still packing up the car, which is why you remember seeing that, but then I ran off before he could say anything because it was obvious how he felt about me by the way he reacted to the kiss.”

“The way he reacted? What does even that mean? Like he didn’t kiss back?” 

“Uh, yeah. Not at all. So I ran off and avoided his texts and calls forever and I haven’t talked to him since because it’s embarrassing.”

“Don’t you think maybe he didn’t kiss back because he was in shock?” David suggested, letting you think for a moment as he turned away to order a few drinks. 

You thought for a moment, unsure of your own memories from the trip. You could only remember small portions of events, such as smoking with your siblings and Tom, Tom pulling you aside to talk, and you kissing him. You paused, going back to the earlier memory of Tom asking to talk to you. What was he wanted to talk about? You couldn’t remember and didn’t get the chance to dig around your own thoughts as David snapped his fingers at you. 

“Hey, earth to Y/n. I got our drinks, let’s get back before Mom sends a search and rescue team.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” You got up from your seat, drink in hand as you followed him to the table and took your seat beside Tom. 

“Y/n,” Tom glanced over at you, a bright smile on his face, “your mother was just telling me you got on the Dean’s list?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, placing your drink down on the table and placing your napkin in your lap, attempting to avoid eye contact. 

“It’s not that great, I mean, as long as you get over a 3.5, you’re on the list.” You explained, shrugging it off. 

“No, no, that’s way cooler than anything I’m doing. I mean, I’m just an acting major. You’re doing what? Pre-med?”

“Pre-law.” You corrected. “Pays about the same and is not as much schooling. But, acting sounds really cool. Sounds more fun.”

Tom shrugged. “I guess. I mean, I’m taking this improv class and it’s absolutely the worst thing I could’ve taken.”

“Oh! I take improv at school!” Charlie chimed in, excitedly bouncing in her seat. 

“Oh yeah?” Tom raised a brow, taking a drink from his glass before setting it down beside yours. “Maybe after we have dinner, you can show me some of your skills.”

Charlie shook her head. “I never said I was any good.”

The table erupted in a bout of laughter as you gave a small chuckle, your mind elsewhere while you picked up your glass, taking a drink of it. 

“Uh, I think that’s mine.” Tom leaned over, his breath hot on your ear as he spoke lowly. 

You choked on the drink a bit, coughing slightly as you set the glass down and looked at him apologetically. 

“Shit. Sorry.” 

“It’s alright. It’s not like we haven’t exchanged spit before.” Tom stated coolly, smirking slightly.

“I don’t backwash into drinks.” You retorted, attempting to not acknowledge his last statement fully. 

“I don’t know, you might.” Tom said, picking up the glass and swirling it around with his hand, pretending to inspect it. 

“Well, if you’re so worried, I’ll buy you another drink.”

“Oh, I’m not worried, but if you’re offering another drink, I will gladly take it.” 

“Hey, lovebirds, I’d look at the menu if I were you, otherwise Mom’s going to order for you.” David interrupted, nodding towards the waitress that was at the table. 

You gave him a glare before looking down at your menu, deciding to order the first thing you set your eyes on since you didn’t have much time before the waitress’s attention was on you.

“I see your brother is still snappy as ever.” Tom muttered after the moment of silence you shared. 

“You know how he is. He’s not so bad with me, definitely on his last straw with Lucy, though.”

Tom opened his mouth to speak before being interrupted by the waitress. You quickly ordered your food, Tom doing the same before you turned your attention back to the conversation. 

You weren’t sure what the young man’s plan was, why he was so insistent on talking your ear off when you had practically ghosted him like an ex-boyfriend for almost a year prior to the current exchange. You wanted to shrug it off, but you couldn’t get past it and it tortured you more for Tom to be so kind to you than it had ignoring him. 

It’s not that you were okay with ghosting him in the past, in fact, you felt like it was a true breakup without you having ever been with Tom. It was a stupid, little interaction that you could’ve talked about and explained away had you actually given him a chance to speak to you, but instead you let your own pride get in the way of that. 

“Y/n, did you hear what I said?” Tom asked, his hand resting on yours. 

You blinked for a moment, clearing your throat and slipping your hand from under his as you shook you head. “No, sorry, what did you say?”

“Oh, don’t take it personally, Tom,” Your father started, “Y/n’s always in her own head. She never really hears anyone.”

“Dad, it’s fine.” You shook your head again. “What did you say, Tom?”

“I asked if you wanted to get a drink and speak privately for a moment.” 

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.” 

“I think it is,” Your mother stated, now interrupting. “You two go ahead. We’ll come get you when the food comes.”

You mentally cursed yourself and your parents as you followed Tom’s motions, setting down your napkin alongside his and rising from your seat. You allowed him to place a hand on your lower back and guide you away from the group and to the bar, much to your own internal dismay. 

“We need to talk.” Tom stated, taking a seat at the empty bar as he looked at you.

You crossed your arms over your chest. “Is that why you came tonight? Just to confront me? You could’ve just called if you wanted that.” 

“I would’ve if you didn’t block me.” Tom asserted himself before pointing to the empty seat beside him. “And have a seat, please, it’s weird that you’re just standing there.”

You took a seat beside him, leaning away from him and against the bar, as if you wanted to put as much space between you both. 

“I came tonight because I wanted to see you, not just talk about how you drop kicked me out of your life.” 

“I wouldn’t say I drop kicked you...” 

“You kissed me, ran away in a split second, and then proceeded to block me. I think that is the definition of drop kicking someone.” 

“Actually, I think it’s when you jump up and kick someone.” You joked, attempting to redirect the conversation away from your mistakes. 

“I’m about to drop kick you if you don’t take this seriously.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“For what? Drop kicking me or making a joke out of it when I’m trying to be vulnerable with you?”

“Both.” You shifted in your seat, uncomfortable and feeling as though you were a child about to go to the principal’s office. “I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, I think I’m just trying to protect my own.” 

“David’s right, you are selfish and trying to talk to you was a mistake.” Tom shook his head, rising from his seat. 

“Tom, wait.” You grabbed his arm, only for him to shake you off. 

“I have been waiting, Y/n. I’ve been waiting the past year for you to talk to me or be willing to see me and every time I think you will, you disappoint.”

“Tom, I-”

“You know, I begged your parents to let me come here to see you, to spend time with your family? They didn’t ask me. Once I realized you were never going to speak to me again over something so stupid, I had to swallow my own pride, unlike you, just to see you again.” Tom ran a hand through his hair, attempting to calm down as he looked away from you. “I swallowed my own pride to see you choking on yours and still acting as if I was the one in the wrong somehow. You kissed me, you blocked me. You didn’t even let me assess the situation before you did it for me and now I’m the bad guy?”

“I don’t think you’re a bad guy.” 

“Really? Because both Charlie and David have said multiple times that you claim that I rejected you when I never did. That you could just tell that I didn’t like you so you pushed me away when the truth was that I did like you. God, Y/n, I’d been in love with you since primary school and the one time I realized you reciprocated feelings, you ran away like you hadn’t.” 

“I’m sorry, okay?” You cried, falling back into your seat. “I didn’t think it would be a huge deal until it was and I was scared that the outcome of my actions wasn’t going to be the one I had been hoping for. When I kissed you, you didn’t seem to like it and when I ran, you didn’t chase after me and I took that as you not liking me and wanting to get the fuck out of the situation.” 

“But that’s what I’m saying, Y/n! You’re always so focused on yourself that you don’t even realize how other people are feeling. I tried to run after you, I did, but I lost you halfway up the stairs and I couldn’t remember your room number.” Tom explained, exasperated. “I even tried to call but you didn’t pick up and your brother and sister convinced me it was best to just go home so we did. I thought you needed space, but once it got to be so long, I didn’t know what to do.” 

“You really chased after me?”

“Of course I did. I loved you, Y/n. I wanted to be with you. I’m here because I still do, but I’m starting to think this was a mistake. I should go, I shouldn’t have come in the first place.”

Tom straightened up before turning on his heel and starting to walk back to the table to collect his things and leave. 

You watched as he did so, something in you pulling you up off of your seat and making you grab him by the arm even though you wanted to cower away like you once had before. 

Tom turned towards you, about to say something when you collided your lips with his, the action feeling more natural than it had the first time you kissed him. He melted into you, his free hand resting on your hip as he kissed back, causing you to smile at the gesture before pulling away. 

“Please, Tom, don’t go.” You whispered. “I want you to stay. I want to make it up to you for all the heartache and lost time. I never meant to hurt you and I was being selfish and that wasn’t fair. I want to try to work something out with you.” 

“If I stay will you buy me that drink you promised?”

“I’ll do anything if you stay.” 

Tom looked away for a moment, as if he was pondering something. “Hmm. I’ll think about it.”

“Tom, please.” 

“Fine, I will stay, but only because I already ordered food.” Tom joked, raising his hands defensively as you pouted and gave him a look. “I’m kidding! I want to stay and work something out, I swear.”

[wandsandwheezes]

Fake It | Weasley Twins | CH6

one // two // three // four // five

Warnings | 18+ SMUT, mature themes, fake relationships, secret relationships, love, sex, drama, angst, fluff, masturbation, hate sex, heartbreak, blood

Summary // Fred Weasley has been set up to publicly date Y/N, London’s best Quidditch Seeker in order to drum up some publicity. Y/N however has a different ginger man on her mind; George Weasley.

A/N // thank you to my angst goblin, Lanie @gcdric​ and my angel Zahra @starlightweasley​ for helping me get this one out bc otherwise id be STUCK

One new message

The sound of the answer machine rang through Fred’s flat, he was staring out over London and her twinkling lights. His waistcoat was loose, hanging open at his chest - tie discarded the moment he stumbled through the door. He’d pretty much flung the sliding glass door to the balcony open, letting the biter breeze whip through his hair, blowing the once still curtain so that it flew in a way that mimicked the way a superhero’s cape flows. 

The night of partying had been a wild but well needed distraction. Fred couldn’t stop the image of your kiss from playing over and over in his head, his fingers ghosted over where the absent feeling of your lips lingered, wishing you were here. 

“Freddie…” You breathed down the phone, your words slurred still as the liquor clung to your senses. 

“About what happened tonight, I don’t think it was-” His heart began to race at the simple thought, the steamy kiss was crossing his mind once again, He heard you take a moment, a pause for thought and he held his breath with you. 

“I just - we need to talk. We- I have something to tell you.” You sighed, he was praying he could just call you back, checking his watch, he knew it was too late. What If he did call, would that be so bad? 

“I’m sorry, Fred.” the sound of you putting down the phone echoed in his brain. Sorry. What could you possibly be sorry for? It could possibly be one of the best kisses of his life. He couldn’t deny the electricity that he felt from tip to toe and he knew deep down that you felt it too. So why did he feel a pang of sadness hit his chest, winding him like a dementor was sucking the soul out of his body.

Fred fell asleep that night clutching his pillow as he imagined you in its place. He wasn’t sure what made the tears roll down his cheeks, but shrugged it off as the alcohol getting to him. He was snivelling, contemplating leaving you a text. He needed you to know how he felt, that he was aching for you to be with him. He didn’t want things to just be staged anymore, there was undeniable chemistry there between you, he felt it in the way you looked at him. Surely it would be better if you were his, he could kiss and hold you all he wanted without the need for press or cameras. You could have a beautiful, normal life together. You were one of the last thoughts on his brain as he drifted off, his grip against the plush pillow only growing tighter out of desperation. 

Waking to the midday sun shining directly into his eyes wasn’t making the pounding headache rattling around in his skull any better. Fred didn’t remember anything about how or when he got home, only recalling the mellow flow of your voice reverberating around his flat. He managed to drag himself from his bed, searching every unorganised cabinet for the sight of even one lonely ibuprofen, sighing as his head fell to rest on the counter with no luck. He realised the grave mistake he had made when his head started thumping, the room spinning and his sight going hazy. Water, he needed hydration.

Two pints of water later, Fred was still feeling the sour effects of last night’s burning liquor, feeling the burn in his chest with every breath, like all the liquid was ready to come right back up at any moment. He sat himself down at the island counter as he pressed the button to replay the voicemail from last night. 

I’m Sorry.

The words wouldn’t leave him, he replayed the voicemail over and over, internalising every single word as it played through the speakers. He sat for hours, sat too long until his feet had gone numb from dangling over the seat. The Great British weather had taken its turn for the worst, a clap of thunder distracting Fred from his thoughts, not knowing how deeply the words were hitting him, until he felt a tear drop against the back of his hand. It was too much for him, realising that he needed to see you, touch you, feel you. 

I’m Sorry

His feet dragged him towards your place, he didn’t care that he’d been walking for miles or that the rain was drenching him to his very core. It was desperation that drove him to find you. It was like a sign to him that one lonely red rose grew from a bush he passed, stopping dead in his tracks before turning around to look at it. He plucked it from the bush, holding it up to his nose, breathing in the scent. Rose petals mixed with the cold drizzle and muggy air sent him over the edge. He was walking quicker now so that he could get to you, pace kicking up into a small jog, his shoes slapping against the wet pavement with each step.

One light shone dimly from the confines of your apartment. Fred stood outside, debating how he was going to approach this conversation. He loved you, wanted you to be his and he struggled in that moment to find the appropriate words to express it. You were towel drying your hair, supposedly from the rain as you came into view by the window. You looked like an angel, a pure piece of heaven on earth and his heart beat faster, beginning to move closer to the flat’s entrance. That’s when he spotted another figure coming into view from the window, face covered by the towel as you dried their hair. Whoever it was, had at least a foot on you height wise, their hands snaking around your waist to pull you tight and close to them.

Fred’s heart sunk, like it had fully fallen out of his ass, seeing you in the arms of another man made his stomach churn, his grip on the rose growing tighter as the thorns pierced his skin. He didn’t even feel the pain, just the emptiness in his chest. He watched as you pulled the towel from the figure’s face.

The messy ginger hair, round cheeks and adoring smile were obvious. Fred knew exactly who he was seeing, he was blinking so hard wishing that it was just a terrible nightmare. As George’s lips connected with yours, it was as if it rumbled Zeus himself, a bolt of lightning illuminating the dark sky. It was like watching his whole world come crashing down, watching you chase his brother’s lips desperately, the same way you had done with him last night. He couldn’t help but watch as the kiss deepened, George using his strength to pick you up, watching your legs wrap around his waist, walking out of sight. 

It was like watching a glimpse of a life he’d never have, the rose fell to the floor, petals breaking off of the stem. Blood was dripping from his hand to the floor, diluted by the rain as it splashed against the stone. Not a single car drove by your house, not one person was outside but Fred in that moment. Loneliness was the only bitter feeling left, it tasted like hell in his mouth, unable to shake the image of you and George together, only hearing two words in his head over and over like a broken record.

I’m Sorry. 

Raindrops danced along Fred’s skin, the soft pitter patter mocking him, everything reminded him of you, even in a moment of heartbreak, the glow of Christmas lights, the thunder or the distant sound of horns beeping at one another, it all reminded him of you in the most ridiculous way. His phone chimed, pulling up the messages he realised that his thoughts had overpowered the importance of the messages.

>> I miss your touch Freddie

>> I can come see you tonight

>> why aren’t you responding Fred?

>> don’t you love me?

‘Maybe this is what I need’ Fred thought, Perhaps he needed the out, the quick fuck to get the aggression out of his system. They say it’s wrong to sleep with your boss, but Cherry wasn’t his boss, she was just the publicist. The publicist you shared. If you could sleep with anyone you wanted, why should he feel guilty about it now? After all, if there was one woman who could help him forget, It would be Cheryl. 

<< sorry, doll

<< of course i love you

<< come see me x

>> I won’t be long, i’m so desperate for you, Freddie x 

It was wrong for him to say that, especially when he didn’t love cherry. Not one ounce of his body felt a connection deeper than just sex. That's all it was to him with Cherry; mindless, carefree sex. Why he kept going back to her like a lost puppy however, was still up for debate. 

Cheryl wasn't an unattractive woman, but she wasn't you. She was taller, accentuated by her constant need to wear heels, not that it mattered much to Fred when he towered above most people he met. She had long blonde hair that was always beach waved and perfectly sun-kissed skin like a Miami model. Fred didn't care too much about superficial looks, but it was undeniable that part of the reason he enjoyed Cherry so much was the way her tits, although obviously fake, would bounce in his face begging to be touched as she sank down onto him or the way her full lips looked as they wrapped around his throbbing cock. Fucking Cheryl from behind was as much fun, he had all the ass he could hold onto before him and a tight cunt that always struggled to take him. 

Reaching his home Cherry was already waiting for him. She spun around as soon as his presence behind her was felt, lips attaching to his immediately. The red lipstick she wore while unique to her, was now being transferred to the man's lips as they kissed. He wasn't disappointed to be kissing someone, it was disappointment that it wasn't you. Your kisses were heaven compared to what he was getting now, he found himself picturing you in his arms and that seemed to work. 

They wasted no time stripping each other's clothes off, Fred was aching to pound his cock into something, even if it had to be Cherry. When the girl tried to straddle him, he grabbed her hips, throwing her against the mattress, causing a giggle to erupt from her lips. "Hands and knees tonight, Doll." 

Being seethed inside Cherry felt amazing. He tried to stretch her out, push as much of himself inside as he could, but she was simply so tight. The pace he set was animalistic, fucking the girl raw against the sheets, he couldn't stand to look at her, closing his eyes and pretending it was the girl he’d been longing for. It wasn't enough, he needed more control. Fred's hand was pushing Cherry's face into the sheets, his thrusts more violent and possessive as he continued fucking her senseless. 

Back at your home, George was seethed all the way inside you, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. The way you two fit together was like lock and key, a perfect size for each other. "I'm so deep inside of you princess, can you feel me in your belly?" You were nodding, grabbing his hand to press against your abdomen, his thrusts were slow and purposeful, he was trying to make you cum over and over and over again tonight and you were already waiting for number four. "Yes Georgie, right here, it feels so good when you fill me up." he hummed as he felt the tip of his cock hitting where his hand was pressed with every thrust. His precious girl. All for him. 

Fred was on the edge, skin slapping as he chased his orgasm, Not caring much for Cherry's desperate moans, no matter how good he was making her feel. He wanted her to shut up, it sounded so fake, but he was ready to release, pulling out to let his cum drip over the curve of her ass. He flopped on the bed next to her, immediately feeling her hand on his cock, stroking gently. "You're so good, Freddie, So big." 

She took him into her mouth with ease, it was the only time he could be fully inside of her. His head was back against the mattress as he pictures your soft lips replacing hers. His hand came up to stroke her hair as she continued sucking him off. Try as he might to cum again, he knew it wasn’t your hand on his cock, or your lips. It was another woman, the thought made him sick to his stomach, forcing him to sit bolt upright, pulling himself away from the naked girl on his bed.

“I can’t do this.” he grumbled, grabbing the boxers he had discarded on the floor, pulling them up. Cherry sighed, running a hand through her hair and pulling it over her shoulder, “Do you want me to stay Freddie?” she smiled, playing with the ends of hair as she watched him walk into his bathroom across the hall. “I don’t care.” he spoke plainly, the hurt in his chest hitting him once again as he slammed the door behind him. 

He could still hear the hums and moans you made against his lips. As he leant against the shut door, his hand reached down to start palming himself, feeling himself grow hard again at the thought of you. He was picturing you sprawled out on his bed, begging for him, using your mouth to get him off - He was getting close again as he imagined slamming his hips into you. Just as he reached his peak again, one thought plagued his mind, you moaning his twins name. His heart broke again as he came, sighing as he realised that he was too late. You weren’t his to have.

/// TO BE CONTINUED ///  >>>>>> Chapter Seven

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[ihearthes]

Quarantine Christmas Part 1

Author: @ihearthes Pairing: Harry x y/n Rating: Fluff/Smut (Smut in Part 2) Word Count: 2826 (Part 1) Fiction Chalenge via @caitlin‘s fiction party via @sweetcreatureinthedark

December 23, 2020

My head spins as I haul my suitcase from the trunk, using two hands due to the heft of the dirty clothes inside. Setting it on the ground, I yank on the handle before grappling with the two shopping bags filled with presents, reaching back for the decorated Christmas tin that is filled with homemade cookies, fudge, and other delicacies baked by my colleagues at Apple Music. 

Wrestling with my hands full, I close the trunk with an elbow, shivering in the chilly LA air. At the front door, I want to cry. Dammit. I could clearly remember that when Glenne had given me the code for the front door and the alarm, I placed them in my phone under her contact information. 

“FUCK!” The primal scream is released from my lungs, likely scaring the neighbors if any of them are outside enjoying Christmas lights or having family celebrations on this Christmas Eve Eve. Balancing the tin of cookies on top of the suitcase, I set down the shopping bags to reach for my phone. My purse slips off my shoulder, knocking the container of sweets, and in the scramble to rescue them, I nearly fall head over heels into the bushes. 

It isn’t until I punch in the numbers and drag my personal effects inside that it occurs to me that the alarm isn’t armed. Had Glenne and Jeffrey forgotten to punch in the code before they left for Palm Springs? Deciding I don’t care, I leave everything by the door as I drag my suitcase to the main floor laundry room, dumping everything in without regard to color or type of clothing. Since we’ve been working remotely the majority of the time for the last fucking nine months, “dressing up” encompasses blue jeans and the occasional blouse, but most of my clothing is sweatpants and t-shirts. Deciding washing the blue jeans and blouses with the sweatpants and t-shirts is the worst idea ever, I fish those out before pouring laundry detergent over the remaining garments and starting the washer. 

Glancing down at the clothing currently on my body, it seems completely reasonable to drop them into the washer too. Stripping the t-shirt from my body, I toss it into the swirling water before adding my bra, socks, and leggings to the murky mix. Wearing only panties in the cool house makes my nipples bead. 

Ha! I’m sure my nips are happy to get any action after almost a year with no dating of any sort because of the fucking pandemic. Which reminds me that I’ve forgotten my vibrator at home. Shit. Of all the things I don’t mind borrowing from Glenne, I do have a line I won’t cross. 

Placing the tin of Christmas yummies on the kitchen counter, I grasp the handles of the two bags of gifts. It might be silly to put them under the tree since I’m the only one in the house, but it will make me feel better. More like I’m at home with my family in Indiana. Less like I’m stuck in quarantine in an empty house for my favorite holiday. Sniffling, I swipe at my nose with the back of my hand as I pad down the two steps into the living room to the tree. 

Kneeling at the fake tree, I reach for the switch to turn on the lights. As the colors begin blinking, I carefully withdraw each present, reading the tag before gently placing the gift under the tree. Even my brother had sent a present through the mail which must mean he misses me his year. Right now, we should be challenging each other to the most ridiculous games to see who is the best. Inevitably, he would win some while I beat him at others until eventually we declare a tie. My mother would chastise us both with a grin on her face, implicitly encouraging us to continue our “reindeer games” as my father called them. 

From behind me, I hear a shuffling sound. Hadn’t they taken Myles with them? No matter. I could use the company a dog would provide. 

“Santa, you’ve changed!” a soft voice exclaims, and I jump, twisting around to find another human wearing sweatpants and a hoodie. 

“It’s you!” Both voices exclaim simultaneously. “What the fuck are you doing here?” We both pause, “Stop saying what I’m saying!” 

Out of breath, I stare at him. The Harry Styles. Fuck. 

His eyes roam over my body, and it finally dawns on me that I’m wearing nothing but my Victoria’s Secret lace panties. Shit. 

Pacing measuredly to the couch without openly cringing, I grasp a wool throw and wrap it around my chest regally like I’ve just exited the pool at some exotic locale near the equator. My shoulders straighten, and I face him openly. 

“Are you joining Glenne and Jeffrey in Palm Springs?” My back is a board, and my tone is barely restrained. 

“Nope.” His nonchalance combined with his truncated answer pisses me off, per usual.

“So you’re flying home, waiting here for your flight tonight?” The hopeful tone is obvious to me and probably to him as well.

“No.” Those green eyes of his rake over my nearly-naked body, and I shiver. From the cold of course. Jesus. Get your heads out of the gutter!

“Watering the plants prior to returning to the Soho?”

“Uh uh.”

Delayed dread begins to fill my stomach. “You mean --” I clear my throat -- “you’re staying here?”

“Yep.”

“Shit.” Running my hand through my hair, I ponder the impact and my next steps. 

“You?” He asks politely, even though I know he doesn’t feel solicitude at this moment.

“Glenne told me I could stay here for a few days. I made arrangements for my place to be fumigated while I was in Indiana for Christmas.”

His raised eyebrow mocks me. 

“I’m not going, though. Okay?” 

“Why not?”

“Seriously? Where the fuck have you been, Styles? In case you didn’t know, there’s a global fucking pandemic, and all of Los Angeles is locked down. So no -- I am not getting on a plane with a bunch of potentially infected and contagious --” Emotion overwhelms me, and I have to stop and catch my breath. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I turn away from him so he can’t see the tears that form in my eyes. 

“Whatever, Smith.”

“My name --” I draw myself up and gather my anger around me like a cloak -- “is not Smith.”

“Yeah, right. Which bedroom are you planning to sleep in?”

“Surely you’re not suggesting we both stay here?” Appalled, I stare at him with my mouth open. “I’ll get a hotel room.” When I realize my wardrobe is in the washing machine, I softly say, “As soon as my clothes are dry.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t be ridiculous, Smith. We’ll share the space. It’s only a couple of days.”

“Excuse me!?” Anger wells up. “Only the most important days in the entire year!” Superiority makes me stand up fully to him. “Besides, I’ve been quarantining for months. No way do I want to share germs with you!”

“Oh please! As if you’ve got a monopoly on quarantining! I’m perfectly safe. We get tested every morning before we film. When was the last time you were tested?” 

“Two days ago!” She’s at her boiling point. “Look, if we're both staying here together, then we’re just going to have to avoid each other. It’s a big house. We can do that.”

“Maybe once you put some clothes on,” Harry comments, smirking in that way he has where the left side of his mouth tilts up. 

Mortified, I glance down at myself. Briefly I consider scurrying for Glenne’s closet, but I pause. Why should I rush away? Because he’s male? Because he was here first? Because he’s sexy as fuck and my panties can’t take anymore? 

“Fine,” I respond as I brush past him like the Queen of England. “I’ll find something to wear, and then we can hash out the details.”

“Great plan. I’m ordering something for dinner.”

My stomach growls, and I suddenly feel an irrational hatred for that part of my body. How I long to state that I’ve already eaten or that I plan to cook something! But alas, I’ve brought no food with me, and I’ve no clue what’s in the kitchen. If Glenne and Jeffrey even left anything. 

“Does that mean you’d like some too?” He gloats, and as much as I would like to smack the grin off his face, I’ve not eaten since a quick bite for breakfast hours before. 

Knowing I’m going to have to grovel, I face him. “I’m capable of ordering for myself.”

“Yes, but that’s not necessarily good for the environment, is it? Sending two drivers to the same address from different restaurants?” Pausing, he appears to swallow whatever snarky comment was forthcoming. “Can we agree on this one small thing? I’m thinking poke.”

Shit. Fuck. Goddammit. That’s exactly what I would have ordered. Fuck. 

Casually, I shrug. “Yeah, whatever. I can choke down some poke.” As I saunter away, tucking the ends of the makeshift shroud under my armpits, I call back to him, “Spicy please.”

Quickly I make my way to Glenne’s closet, surveying the items there. Ripping down a pair of joggers and a Full Stop Management hoodie, I drop the covering I’ve been wearing and rapidly draw the clothes over my naked body. Nothing I can do about not having a bra, but the hoodie is roomy so I worry less. 

In the bathroom, I run my fingers through my hair, combing out the curls as best I can in this environment. In no way do I want it to appear that I’m trying to look amazing for Harry. Biting my lip, I admit to myself that the opposite is true. I absolutely want him to fall at my feet. 

Which isn’t going to happen, I remind myself. Give up the ghost of a fantasy. 

Making eye contact in the mirror, I provide a pep talk for myself. “Listen,” I remind my reflection, “this is just one more fucked up situation in 2020. You’ve gotten through worse. It’s truly a giant house, so there’s no reason -- wait. Why is he staying here anyway?” For whatever reason, I had allowed him to dodge that incredibly simple question. 

Tucking my hands into the hoodie’s front pocket, I amble to the kitchen where Harry is just disconnecting his phone. 

“Food will be here in 45 minutes,” he promises. 

“Why are you staying here again? I missed your answer earlier,” I prompt. 

I’m confident I see a flash of embarrassment crossing his face as he lowers his head. “Wine?” He asks, gesturing towards the extensive rack of reds and then the chiller of whites. 

Unsure as to whether I should allow the diversion or press, I examine him. His eyes look tired and sad. His clothes, while comfortable, aren’t upbeat. Nor is his current demeanor. Is he okay? 

Planting his hands in his hoodie in an unconscious mimic of my pose, he glances at me before his eyes stray to the side, examining the marble countertop. That look tells me more than I need to know, and my empath side emerges as I toss him a life preserver. 

“With poke? I think perhaps a Reisling.” 

He nods, bending to look through the wines in the cooler before he extracts one, holding it up for me to inspect the label. My eyes start to widen at the vineyard, assuming the extravagant cost, but I calm my features. “Perf!” I declare. 

Grasping the wine opener from a nearby drawer, Harry removes the cork as I snatch two wine glasses from the cabinet and place them near him. Carefully comparing the amount in each glass, he pours enough before recorking the bottle. Taking my glass, I move into the living room where I can view the tree. It’s Christmas Eve Eve after all, and I refuse to be deterred from watching the lights twinkle and celebrating the season. 

Harry apparently has a similar idea as he fiddles with the sound system before a crackle of ‘Jingle Bell Drunk’ by RaeLynn starts playing which causes me to giggle. 

I settle on one side of the sofa, and Harry plants himself on the other side. Separately, we each take a sip of the riesling. My tongue does a happy dance at the flavor on my tongue. “This sweetness will cut the spicy quite well. Excellent choice.”

“You made the selection,” Harry reminds me, and I cringe. 

“Oh. Yeah.”

Silence descends as the song proclaims “I’ve been naughty. I’ve been nice.” 

“If there was ever a year for this song, this is it.” I announce into the quiet. 

“Yeah. It’s been quite the year.”

Sharply, I glance at him. Perhaps I had missed something? “Excuse me? You’ve had one hell of a year, Styles. Grammy nominations aside, there were how many music videos released during this global disaster? Plus a movie!”

“Agreed.” He’s quiet, his jaw clenched, and suddenly his words burst forth as though a gate at a dam has been opened. “But no tour. And almost no family time.”

Wait. Was this superstar feeling some of my emotions? He’d had a stellar year in anyone’s estimation. Maybe I could be more sympathetic. 

“Yeah. I’m sorry about tour. I had tickets to Vegas and one of the LA shows.”

His head swivels to me more swiftly than an owl focusing on prey. “You had tickets?”

“HAVE.” I swallow. “Thanks for not canceling by the way. I cannot imagine the bloodbath for getting tickets in the future. You’ve become the ‘it celebrity’.”

A blush is followed by a sheepish smile. “You can always get tickets, Smith. Just ask.”

“I don’t do that.” My voice is filled with the prickles that I feel at his words. 

“Do what?” 

“Use my privilege to get tickets to shows.”

“Oh. I…” His words trailed off. 

Suddenly, I feel less uncomfortable around him. Reaching out, I shove at his shoulder. “You’re a giant star, and you have a ton of fans who want to see you. Me? I’m just happy to be a member of the audience.”

“Really?” Incredulous is what I sense in that one word. “Why?”

“Seriously?” I’m appalled. “Do you not know what an amazing entertainer you are, Styles? Fuck. If I hadn’t been able to see your Fine Line show at the Forum last December, I probably would have cried. You know exactly what your audience wants, and you deliver it. Consistently.”

“But --”

“Hush. Don’t you dare negate your talent!” Taking another sip of wine, I reveal unabashedly, “Maybe it’s the wine talking, but I really enjoy your shows.”

“Smith?” He inquires, and my hand stalls with my wine glass halfway to my mouth.

“Yeah?”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you like my shows?”

Stalling, I run a finger through my hair and empty my wine glass before holding it out to him. “More please?”

He rises, but I can read his reluctance. Within moments, Harry is back at my side, handing me a second glass of the riesling. I can’t help but notice that he’s topped his own off too. 

“Answer the question, Smith.”

“My name isn’t Smith. In fact, there’s not a single part of my name that’s related to Smith. Why do you call me that?”

“Tell me why you like my shows, and I’ll reveal the meaning behind the nickname.”

My head feels fuzzy from the wine and the headiness of being near Harry, and I watch the lights flashing on the tree for a few minutes while Meghan Patrick belts out her version of ‘I’ll Be Home for Christmas’ over the sound system. 

“You make your fans feel like they matter.”

“How?” His question comes rapidly, and I have to gather my thoughts. 

“You...talk to them. Listen to them. Watch them. Appreciate them. It’s rare, Harry. I mean, I’m in this business too, you know. Not every artist does what you do.”

“False.”

“I’m fucking serious, you asshole.” I gulp down more of the wine. “You make your audience feel like they’re your closest friends. I wish more artists did that. Specifically the ones I represent.”

“Oh.” His single utterance is enough, and we sit in pure tranquility for several minutes as the lights blink and Ava Max sings “Christmas Without You”. 

“Wanna watch the quintessential holiday movie?” I inquire, looking at him. 

“Which is?”

“Die Hard, of course,” is my response. “What were you thinking?”

“It’s a Wonderful Life.”

“Nope. It’s pretty good. In the top five for sure.”

“Wait. What are your top five?”

“Oh, that’s easy. ‘Die Hard’, ‘Home Alone’, ‘A Christmas Story’, ‘The Santa Clause’, and ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’.

“You’re serious?”

“Deadly?” I giggle at the joke since ‘Die Hard’ is full of death. 

“Fine. But we watch ‘Wonderful Life’ afterwards.”

“Deal.”

Part 2

[littlestarofthewest]

*chants softly* Do it - write that modern AU uno fic that the fandom doesn't realise that they desperately need 👿😏😘

Remember this? This came up between Christmas and New Year’s 2019 xD And now I finally did it.

Pairing: Arthur x gn reader | Words: 2325 | Rating: mildly nsft | Tags: strip Uno (yes, you’re reading this right), modern AU

The party is in full swing around you, but you have no desire to join in. It's been a while since a new year made you hopeful, and all the happiness and well wishes for another promising year sound forced and wrong in your ears.

It's too loud, and it smells like alcohol and too many people in a small space. You can barely breathe, so you head along the corridor to the rooms that are off-limits to the other guests. You don't feel like crashing in John's and Abigail's bedroom, so you take the next room that's part office, part storage room. In the past, you sometimes crashed here for the night.

You close the door behind you with a sigh and are about to head for the couch, but then you spot someone sitting in front of it on the ground. He's hunched over a little and looks up when you stop dead in your tracks.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't know somebody was in here."

"It's alright," the guy says, offering you a kind smile.

A little lamp next to the sofa throws a soft shadow on his face, and you recognize the beard and nice features. You've seen him many times in photos around the apartment.

"You're Arthur, right?" you ask. "John's friend slash brother?"

Arthur chuckles. "Yeah, I guess you could call me that."

"I'm Y/N, Abigail's friend."

Recognition shows in Arthur's face, and he nods. "Friend slash soul mate slash the only person who understands Abigail whenever John acts like … well, John."

"So you have heard of me."

"A little, here and there," Arthur says, "mostly good."

"Mostly?"

Arthur grins a little one-sided, and something warm rises up in your stomach. You always thought that Arthur was handsome based on the pictures. It's way worse in person.

"I didn't mean to crush your party-" you start, but Arthur interrupts you.

"It's alright. I understand the urge for some peace and quiet. Please stay."

"Thanks." You move closer and sit down on the ground, putting your first and only drink down on the table next to the lamp. "What you got there?"

"Uno cards, if you believe it," Arthur says, and you both look at each other and speak at the same time. "John."

Arthur laughs, and you take a sip from your drink, enjoying the view. You definitely prefer Arthur's company to all the fake happy people outside.

"You gonna shuffle those all night, or are you ready to lose?" you ask.

"Lose?" Arthur measures you with a raised brow. "Around here, nobody takes me on."

You wave your fingers at him. "Come on then. Deal."

Arthur shuffles the cards for real now before setting up the first game, and you try to figure out if you've ever had a stranger New Year's Eve. Sitting in a friend's apartment playing Uno with a stranger is not a plan you would have made.

About two minutes later, Arthur puts his last card on the pile. "See?" he teases, but you just shrug.

"Beginner's luck."

You go back and forth with dealing the cards, and although Arthur wins the first three games, you soon catch up, making you both even again.

"So, why are you in here?" you ask, sorting your cards.

"I only came because John and Abigail wanted to set me up, but she didn't show," Arthur says with a shrug. "Didn't feel like partying after that."

"That sucks. Did her plans change?"

"More her perspective, I guess," Arthur says, something defeated in his voice. "Saw my profile picture, and suddenly she changed her mind."

"Nah, that can't be it."

"Why not?"

"Because you're gorgeous."

"I- What?" Arthur stumbles.

"I'm telling you that you're a very attractive man," you say while watching your cards. "And Uno, by the way."

"Oh, well, thank you, I guess," Arthur says. He puts another card on the pile, his cheeks now sporting a red tinge. "You're very nice."

"Just honest. And I win."

You grin at Arthur as he collects the cards to shuffle again. "You really are a worthy foe. We should make this more interesting."

"What, like strip poker?" you joke and Arthur laughs.

"We only have Uno cards." He's about to deal, but then he looks at you with a mischievous spark in his eyes. "Although it doesn't make much difference, really."

You look at each other and there's a sudden tension as if both of you wait for the other to chicken out or laugh. You wish you could, but the idea of getting Arthur naked is too tempting, even if you might lose some of your clothes yourself.

"We should probably lock the door," you say as casually as you can.

"Yeah, that's a good idea."

You get up to lock the door, and when you come back, Arthur deals, both of you acting as if nothing changed, but you feel a constant wave of heat running up and down your body. Before, you didn't really care much for your cards, but now every move counts. 

Arthur's the first one to win, but the second he puts down the card, he looks like he'd rather take it back. "Look, you don't have to-"

You interrupt him by taking off one of your shoes. "You're just worried you're going to lose."

 "Fine, you're asking for it."

Arthur wins again, getting your second shoe, followed by you winning for the first time. Like you, Arthur loses his shoes first, and then you agree to count both socks as one item. That's how Arthur ends up shirtless pretty soon after. You tell yourself that a naked torso is really nothing special, but for some reason, you play your worst round.

"You seem to have a hard time concentrating," Arthur teases, and you hate that he actually noticed.

"Shut up," you grunt, focusing on the cards. Still, you can't help but peek at Arthur once in a while.

"How did you end up here then tonight?" Arthur asks.

"My ex is back in town and hung around in front of my apartment, so Abigail suggested I hang out here."

"Something to be concerned about?" Arthur asks, his voice making clear how he thinks about a stalker-y ex.

"It's not that bad, really. They're not dangerous or anything, just annoying," you explain. "It's probably just a desperate 'alone on New Year's Eve' thing. Like I'd do that again."

You roll your eyes, and Arthur chuckles. "One of those, huh? Just gotta wait them out then. And this is your shirt gone."

He puts down his last card, and you get to your feet. "I'll go with the pants first if you don't mind. I'm hot anyway."

"Suit yourself," Arthur says nonchalantly, but you can feel his eyes on you as you slide the fabric down your legs. 

Arthur looks away again when you sit, but your skin still prickles, and you wonder how much more of this you can take. Playing freaking Uno shouldn't be this hot.

Lucky for you, you get a good hand, and despite your lack of concentration, Arthur's the one who has to get rid of his pants next. You try your best not to stare at his junk but fail miserably. Suddenly you're very concerned about what could happen next. Arthur must think the same.

"Glad we locked the door," Arthur grunts, "I don't need strangers looking at my junk."

"I'm a stranger, too, aren't I?" 

"You called me gorgeous; you can do whatever you want," Arthur says.

You know he's joking, but that doesn't stop your brain from imagining things you could do to or with him. That very pleasing but also distracting train of thought loses you your shirt in the next round. Still, Arthur's the one who has to get rid of his underwear first.

This time, you have the decency to look away until he sits down again, and the red on Arthur's cheeks is back. 

"So, what now?" he asks. "Can't exactly take off more if I lose."

After what you just thought about, your brain seems to have lost all sensible ideas, and you blurt out the first thing on your mind. "Truth or dare."

Arthur chuckles. "Really? And next up is 'spin the bottle?'" 

"Hey, we're playing strip Uno," you huff, "you really want to get judgemental on me now?"

"Alright, alright, 'truth or dare' it is. Just deal."

You deal the cards with butterflies taking flight in your stomach. You don't even know what to ask or dare Arthur, but the alternative is to get naked yourself. Either way, you're in trouble.

The round goes on and on, both of you putting on more cards rather than losing them, but then the game turns in Arthur's favor until he forgets to say Uno. You have better luck then, finally winning the round. 

This time, it's you who tries to offer a way out. "Look, you don't have-"

"No, no, that's what we agreed on," Arthur says, waving his fingers at you. "Come on, ask."

"Alright, truth, or dare?"

Arthur studies you for a moment, his gaze so intense that a cold shiver runs down your spine. "Dare."

All kinds of stupid things run through your mind, but you don't want to make Arthur look foolish, especially in front of anybody else. You want to keep him all to yourself.

"I dare you not to move, no matter what."

Arthur raises his eyebrows in surprise but stays deliberately still. You take all your courage and crawl over to him, scattering the cards without a second thought. 

When you reach Arthur, you run your cheek along his one like a cat before placing soft kisses along his neck. You hear him take in a sharp breath, but he doesn't move. 

You look up to him, and he keeps still as you move closer, your lips hovering so close to his that you can feel his breath. It takes all your willpower not to kiss him, but you're still playing after all.

"Your turn," you say, looking right into Arthur's eyes. They're a nice shade of blue but with an almost golden circle in the middle.

"Truth or dare?" Arthur asks.

"Dare," you say way too fast.

Arthur's lip twitches into a smile, but he still doesn't move. "I dare you to come closer."

You crawl into Arthur's lap, very aware of the fact that only a tiny piece of fabric keeps you apart. With your arms around Arthur's neck, you make yourself comfortable, but your faces are still inches apart. 

"Truth or dare?" you ask.

"The truth is that I didn't say Uno on purpose," Arthur says. You believe him, which means that he wanted for this little game to start. 

"Trickery," you say, running your fingers through his hair, "how very naughty of you. I think that entitles me to dare you again."

"Sounds fair."

You move even closer, your fingers teasing Arthur's neck. "I dare you to touch me."

Arthur places his hands on your knees before running them up to your thighs. You get goosebumps all over your skin and can't help that you fidget a little. The friction takes its toll on Arthur. You can feel him pressing up against you while he runs his hands up along your body.

"Truth or dare?" he asks, his fingers dancing over your back.

"Truth. I want you to kiss me."

Arthur caresses your shoulders while he looks at you, his fingers climbing your neck in slow motion. The touch makes you shiver, but you stay right where you are, letting Arthur cup your face with his hands. Only when there's a barely-there pull, you move, finally closing the gap between you and Arthur.

You can't remember the last time someone kissed you this gently, and you melt against Arthur, promising yourself to stay in his lap for as long as you possibly can.

Arthur deepens the kiss, the taste, and warmth of him making you forget where you are until there's a harsh knock on the door.

"Hey, Y/N? You in there? It's me."

You feel like being doused with ice water, and your fingers dig harshly into Arthur's shoulders.

"Who's that?" he whispers, worry in his expression.

"My ex," you whisper back.

"Come on, let's talk," comes the voice from outside.

Arthur raises his eyebrows in question, and you immediately shake your head, so he tilts his head to face the door. "Do you mind? We're trying to hook up in here."

There's silence, and you bite your lip so you won't laugh. Sadly, your ex doesn't give up that easily. "Who is this?"

"It's Arthur; you might want to remember that name the next time you skulk around somebody's apartment."

It's silent again, then your ex clears their throat. "Just call me, okay? We can talk about this?"

You look at Arthur, slightly shaking your head, so you both stay quiet until you're sure your ex is gone. Arthur leans back with a sigh, resting his head against the couch. "That was not a turn on."

"I'm sorry," you say, running your fingers over his beard. "Like I said - annoying."

Arthur watches the ceiling for a bit before he takes your hands, threading your fingers together. "You know, I have an apartment, too. No exes hanging around that one."

You laugh. "Getting me naked here doesn't mean you can get me naked over there."

"I just borrow these cards, and we'll see what happens."

He kisses you again, and you have to admit to yourself that you'd rip your clothes off in an instant if he asked you to. You still act like you need to be persuaded. "Fine, you may take me there and try again. You might lose, though."

Arthur smiles. "I'll take that risk."

Getting dressed has never been such a thrill for you. Maybe the new year wasn't so bad after all.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Oooh maybe there was only on bed at a sky resort with Calum and the rest if the band is making bets of when feels are confessed

Lol, here we go another confessional pool. Love to see it. Reader Insert CW: Mentions of death/lost loved ones.

Enjoy Christmas 2020 Blurb Mastelist

Enjoy my full masterlist!

_________________

Ashton and Calum are the first to head to the check-in. The rest of the guys are pulling out their last bits of luggage from the truck. You trail in the middle, still laughing at Luke’s fumbling on the snow. But soon the wind chill creeps up through your jacket and you contemplate heading inside and grabbing your spare key. 

From the counter, as Ashton sorts out the keys needed, Calum glances out to the front door. You’re standing right near the doors, doubled over. He knows it’s you standing there too, can tell by the hiccup of your laughter that’s just muffled enough that Calum can almost belief it’s his subconscious playing a trick on him. “Are you sure you’re okay rooming with them? It won’t be too weird given the whole you not telling your feelings for them because they just lost their brother and you don’t want to seem too insensitive.”

“You make it seem like I’m being weird about this?”

“Calum you’ve had feelings for forever. Yes, they lost their brother this year but you’ve been there for everything. You’ve been nothing but respectful. But they’re doing a lot better. They came on to this trip to have fun. Try to get back to normal because everything and everyone at home keeps treating them as fragile.

“Ashton, it just doesn’t feel like the best time.”

“And will be the right time? When will you every have the best time to tell them your feelings, mate? Because I don’t think there’s ever been a best time in life. There’s only ever now or never.”

Calum shakes his head. “Right now is not good,” he utters and then grabs his bags. Sure, you and Calum had been close for a while. He had been there for a lot. But he couldn’t risk it. This Christmas was going to be hard on you after what happened and there was no way Calum could even consider dumping his feelings on you at a time like this. No, this is the time for you to have some fun. That’s all he needed to focus on. 

“Looks like it’s me and you,” he teases, dangling the key in your face. 

“Hmm, I guess you’ll do,” you laugh. Michael, Ashton, and Luke watch the two of you trek across the resort to your room. 

“Do you think they’ll confess anything on this trip?” Luke asks. 

Ashton sighs. “I don’t know. I think Calum’s overthinking the whole thing. But I also get it. He doesn’t want to push them. I hope the universe is cooking up something.”

“I got dibs something happens tonight,” Michael laughs. 

“Ah, you are a betting man. I’m saying tomorrow,” Ashton counters. 

“I don’t know,” Luke tacks on. “Calum’s been super careful about all this. I think possibly by the end. Gonna need a little bit of romance sparked before anything happens.”

The snow crunches beneath your boots but you’re thankful the house isn’t that far from the check-in. Inside, you thankful to see a bit of warmth or heat had been on previously. There’s a fireplace in the main area. You trail down the hallways to unload your suitcases before settling in. As Calum cracks open the door, a singular bed stares back up at him. It’s a queen sized bed. There’s space, but there’s only one. 

“Have you seen a ghosts?” you asks, noticing the way Calum freezes. 

“Oh-I-Sorry.”

He steps into the room and then you wheel your bags in behind you. You look up to the bed and your heart races. You thought for sure your room would have at least two beds. But it’s okay. There are worst things that could happen. Like you waking up in Calum’s arms. Fuck. “So which side do you want?” you asks facing Calum’s practically still frozen pose. 

“I’m not picky,” he counters. 

You pick the left and drag your suitcase over. You manage to find where the thermostat is located and turn it up just a little after unwrapping yourself from your winter gear. You explore throughout the house too, finding the kitchen and seeing how much space there is. The fire place doesn’t seem too complicated but you don’t mess with it too much. The backdoor opens up to the yard. It’s covered in snow too, but something about the tree lines and the dusting of the snow covering the land for as long as the eye can see. It’s breathtaking. 

The rest of the guys come in then, partners with them. But you stay at the door, watching. You wish you could take a photo to do it justice. You wish you could take even a shitty phone picture and send it to your brother. And you could--in theory. Because he was on your plan and you haven’t removed that line yet at all. You could text his phone. It would deliver. But it would never be seen. And that’s how you know you’ve been standing too long. 

You return to the room, faintly hearing the other guys and their partners settling into their rooms, just as Calum steps out of the bathroom, a towel thrown over his shoulder and just sweatpants on for the moment. The sight doesn’t shock you, but it does make you freeze for just a moment, not ready to see it and you duck your head digging into your suitcase. 

“Everything alright?” Calum unearths a sweatshirt but he doesn’t miss the way you disappeared. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m okay.” 

You head into the shower next and let the steam billow around you. The heat nearly scorches your skin, but you almost like it. You enjoy the fact that it reminds you you’re still alive, you’re still feeling. It’s Christmas time. You should be having fun. The house is decorate in garland and wraths there would be Christmas cheer being pumped into your veins but as it stands, there’s just trying, pretending just a little, just enough that it feels like something. 

The sheets don’t even feel real when you slip into bed. It feels like you’re drowning. You lay there fore a moment, trying to grip onto the sheets to ground yourself. But it just all feels too clean, too stiff, too not lived in. And you’re still drowning. You sit up, suddenly aware of the sweat dripping down your back.

“Hey,” a soft hand caresses your arm. “what’s up?”

You look over to Calum who’s turned to his side. “I-I can’t sleep.”

 “Talk to me.”

“It’s the same thing as always,” you sigh. “And I don’t want to bore you with those details. Yet again.”

Calum sits up. “No, bore me. Yet again.” 

You sigh, scrubbing over your face. “It’s okay, Calum. Go back to sleep.”

“Alright, get up,” he sighs and slips out of bed. You don’t move, unsure of what his plan is. He holds out his hands and waves his fingers. “Seriously, c’mon. Get up. This calls for hot chocolate.”

Giving in, you pull the sheets off your body and take his hand. His hold is warm and the two of you pad softly through the door. You hold onto his hand, trying not to conjure up anything in the shadows. The kitchen is the only light source and you settle at the counter as Calum finds mugs and a packet of hot chocolate. He knows he most definitely added it to the list that Ashton sent to everyone and Calum made sure to add that. 

The spoons click against the ceramic mug. The steam escapes into the chilly air. “So,” Calum starts, leaning across from you. “Tell me. Everything.”

“I’m pretending,” you answer. “I am pretending. And sometimes I’m not sure I’m convincing myself.” Calum nods in understanding, watching you take a sip of the drink. “Some days are easier than others. I don’t know--something about that bed, it all felt fake. I hate that feeling. I don’t know. It just--I need to be okay with not being okay. And I am most of the time. It’s just sometimes, like right now, it makes me realize time just keeps going. And I want to go with it too, it’s just hard.”

“What could I do to help?”

“You’ve done more than enough,” you say, taking his hands. “More than enough.”

Calum nods again, trying not to memorize the way your hands feels wrapped around his again. “You know I’m here for you. What if,” he pauses and catches of the sight. “What if we slept on the couch? No fake bed.”

You look over your shoulder and inhale deeply. It is not a small couch but it is also not a very large couch. “Oh, Calum, no, I couldn’t.” But before you can say much else he’s taking your hand and dragging you towards the couch. “It’s so small,” you counter as he settles down on the couch. 

“Good thing I’m comfy,” he returns. You sit next to him, careful of the hot chocolate still steaming in the cup. 

“Calum, really, you can go back to the room, I’m okay by myself.”

“Nah. I won’t stand for that.” He guides you into his chest, and it’s just sitting, cuddled up next to each other. And you manage to finish the beverage but you don’t last much longer against sleep nor can you give into the way Calum’s wrapped you into his arms. At some point, he stretched out across the couch and you cuddled up on his chest. And maybe there are blankets. But you’re not sure. The only thin you’re sure about is that this doesn’t feel fake anymore. This doesn’t make you feel like you’re drowning. 

“I told you it would only take the night,” Michael laughs, watching to two of you cuddled up on the couch. 

“If that’s a pool you guys ran about confessing feelings, you're shit out of luck, Clifford,” Calum whispers. You haven’t woken up yet, or so Calum assumed, and he doesn’t want to move too much. He’d rather let you sleep even if it meant he has to lay there for an extra hour or two or three. You need the rest. 

“I’m still in luck,” Luke adds on. 

“Me too,” Ashton quips.

“I told you nothing was going to happen this trip because they need to focus on healing, and getting back to normal not me or my feelings for them,” Calum hisses out again, scooting up every so slightly on the couch. You don’t seem to be aware or bothered by the movement. 

“You like them. Just admit it. It would all save us a lot of trouble,” Ashton giggles. 

You try not to snort, you really try not you. The whispers of Michael and Luke woke you just a little but it was the rumble of Calum’s voice was the one that kept you up for sure. Calum freezes, eyes widening at the feeling of you shaking against his chest. It goes quiet in the entire room when the rest of the guys notice the panic too. 

“Luke,” you start, pushing up from Calum’s chest. But you don’t look away from Calum’s panicked face. “I hope everyone brought cash for you.”

It’s in slow motion as you stretch up and plant a kiss on the corner of his mouth, close enough that it almost connects but just far off the mark that Calum knows. His heart races and he cups your face. “What was that for?”

“Thank you. I like you. And I know it’s a fucked up time in my life. But you are really cute and you care. So I wanna try just give me some time.”

A shadow casts over them and when Calum glances up there’s Ashton holding a mistletoe. “Kiss and make it real,” he laughs. 

[colorseeingchick]

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. 

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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!!!

[marshmallowprotection]

Kait’s Emotional Crisis and Analysis on Saeran’s After Ending

That’s right. it’s here folks! You’re here because we’ve managed to survive the waiting period that has been two-years in the making. Are we all happy that we have made it this far and survived the wait? Yes, yes, we are. You wouldn’t still be listening to me babble about how much I love Saeran Choi if you weren’t. We all know what we’re here for, so let’s get down to business. 

THIS IS A VERY LONG POST. I’m not even joking this time. It’s a very long post. 

Spoilers for Ray Route and Another Story!

I’ve been having to control the flappy hands when I see this photo so forgive me if my thoughts are all over the place as I talk about everything that has been on my mind. I literally had to pinch myself when I woke up to a flood of messages on the matter. 

It’s him. It’s my boy. It’s my boy.  It’s my boy! Mom, holy fuck! It’s my boy and he looks great. I’ve had a lot on my mind since I first saw the title screen so let’s get down to what I have to say about that. First of all, I’m in love with MC’s outfit. I’d wear that, that’s the fucking mood tonight. I’ve been frothing at the bit to be able to draw my MC wearing this outfit and I didn’t even wanna start doing something like that until they gave the official release to us. 

What can I say? I’m a sucker for really frilly tops. Those pink jeans are a really nice shade of pink too. It’s not hot pink, it’s a nice bubblegum which is a good contrast to Saeran’s hair, haha! I just like seeing all the pinks around this boy and his MC, of course, has to be cloaked in those colors as well. It just makes me really happy. I love some of the other outfits that MC gets to wear in the game but oh, God, oh, Fuck. This has to be my favorite outfit that we’ve been able to wear thus far. 

The little necktie? Perfect. Those sleeves? Iconic. The hand-holding? PURE AS FUCK. THE VIBES? CHECKED. 

Now that I’ve covered my bases with MC, let’s go onto the Choi brothers and talk about them. I actually like that they’ve been drawing Saeran in more brown and pink outfits. It just feels very right for him. 

It goes to show that his mental state is much better than it was in recent years, like, from Ray to Suit Saeran and to Unknown, we all know that they would dress in black and darker themes if they were given the chance. Ray’s outfit was given to him by Rika to wear, and Suit Saeran was the one that picked his suit out to wear. Unknown walked out of the clearance bin at Hot Topic and added those cowboy boots to enrage me. But, I digress. I’ll fight Unknown at a later date about that. 

The natural and earthy tones that they’re going for here with him are very nice to see. He seems like he’s a lot comfier with himself here. He’s got a cozy little old sweater on and his posture is better than I’ve seen it in many photos. If his style is just cozy sweaters, then, well, I can vibe with that. I can see him working in the garden wearing that and I think that’s the point that they’re making with this style of his. 

The loose collar is also nice. I’m used to seeing his clothes buttoned up and out of the way, making sure that he isn’t showing his body. So, seeing him play with his style and wearing something much looser against his body is a good thing as well. I think I saw someone call him a comfy grandpa in one of the posts that I’ve seen floating around. I chuckle at that mention. 

Saeran doesn’t care that much about fashion, to be honest with you. He would, of course, choose something that’s minimalist and comfortable. These browns work with him very much so. I’m happy to see it! It’s in line with the style that I’ve had in mind for him after the Ending! 

Can you see the way that he’s gazing at the player, though? Can we talk about the way that he’s looking at us?

The longing in that gaze... the way that it looks like he’s been getting some good sleep for once in his life because the discoloration of purple is gone! The way he has that tiny smile that only we know is a smile because he only shares that side of himself with us? His MC? God, I’m in love with you, you fucking bastard man why is your smile making me cry so much?

I could talk about his smile for hours. His expression. The longing. The way that I love you cannot be contained in words, Saeran. It’s far too strong. Just know I’m the person that can feel what’s going on his body from looking at him. He looks to be in a good place. 

Anyways, onto Saeyoung. 

Oh, my darling, Saeyoung. I’m used to seeing you in green palettes. It’s just a tried and true theory with your red hair and you lean heavily into being a walking Christmas palette. It’s rare to see you without your glasses, and I’m sure that a lot of people are swooning over you for that. You know you’re handsome and you will use that against those MCs that love you. I don’t have a lot to say about his outfit but I do think it’s really fitting for him. 

It seems like a muted pull-over and some worn jeans, which seems in line with everything that I would style him in. He knows plenty about style himself and he knows how to make my head spin. 

What is this somber look in his eyes? There’s a smile on his lips but there is this feeling to me that it doesn’t meet his eyes. Is he happy that we’re with Saeran or is he weighed by the fact that he wasn’t the one to save Saeran? Does he know what happens with Rika? Does he feel angry over that? What are we going to tell the RFA and him about this? I know that he would be happy that we saved his brother...

But the guilt in his heart is nothing to scoff off. He always blames himself for what happened to Saeran even though Rika is the one that broke his trust for good and forever. I feel like there’s something bittersweet in his eyes. Does he think that Saeran and the player are going to live happily while he’s not there? 

I always intended to imagine Saeyoung living with Saeran and the player, because they can’t be separated again. 

But does he feel like a weight and a third wheel? I don’t know. I’m scared to think about how he may feel like Saeran is happy now without him and he’ll try to pull away instead of adding anymore trauma onto Saeran’s life. I know that it’s not going to easy for recovery for either of them, but I want to have faith and care for the two of them. 

Saeyoung, you better not self-deprecate. I’ll smooch your forehead too. I just really don’t know how I feel about that look in his eyes. It’s just matching the smile in my opinion. 

I’m still screaming. I’ve been a pit of screaming for nearly three hours now and I know that I’ve still got plenty more to say today on the matter. But, I know why you’re here for real, you want me to analyze what I see in this picture and what I think will be in the AE from what we’re shown. I’ve had a few days to think it over and I’ve got my ideas. 

Where are you Saeyoung? This title screen is not confirmation that Saeyoung is alive. For all we know, this photo could be more inspiration for the theme and the emotion that takes place in the After Ending. 

I have to remind people that when we first played Saeyoung’s AE, it was a rouse and we were treated to a happy dream sequence that sought to talk about Saeran living with us and Saeyoung as he made a toy store. There’s a possibility that in the midst of the search for Saeyoung, we’re confronted with dreams and nightmares on Saeran’s end in regards to his brother. 

It’s my biggest fear that Saeyoung isn’t alive. We don’t know if the Prime Minister took him or if an enemy took him, or if it was the agency, or a combination of all three of these options. I don’t know how I feel about it. I’ve considered that we won’t have the answer until the After Ending itself comes out but I’m interested to know what the answer is. 

If it was Saejoong, well, I fear for Saeyoung’s health if we do find him alive. His emotional state... God, that was always his biggest fear. His and Saeran’s biggest fear that their mother always whispered. She was a monster to the two of them with her abuse but the unknown of what their father would do to them had to be even more frightening. Their mother always said that Saejoong would kill them if he caught them. 

But, he could have honestly done a lot of horrible and twisted things. They could have become political pawns and a sob story that Saejoong could have sold if he wanted quite easily, and their mother could have been killed to silence that story. There was a lot of worse case scenarios. Saeyoung knows and has thought of all of them. 

So the idea that he’s living his worst nightmare? 

The fact that Saejoong could have killed Saeran without him being able to protect him?

The fact that he’d not be able to talk to V? 

He sent a frenzied message to the chatroom for us to contact V for him. This only implies that he was trying to warn V to protect Saeran at the last minute, so it feels like it could only be Saejoong that took him. He panicked hard. He had to make sure that Saeran was protected even if he died. I think that was what he did with his message in the chatroom. 

But, we all know how it turned out. 

I felt like that sacrifice of panic on his part was.... it still hurts me to think about all of it. 

My worst case scenario is a dream sequence and Saeyoung not... not being alive anymore. I don’t know what that would do to Saeran. He wants to make things right with his brother, he really does. The gaslighting and manipulation done by Rika is going to take some time for them to work past, and I know that he can make progress in therapy and as he challenge his intrusive thoughts as we stand by his side. He can see it through. 

He is hopeful for his brother. 

However, it’s going to be tested when he actually faces his brother in the game and that’s the real test. Therapy is one thing. Facing your fears is even harder than talking about them. Saeran is going to... be overwhelmed with everything and he may need to step away when push comes to shove. 

I want Saeyoung to see us together holding hands and let him have that moment realization that even though Saeran went through a lot of harm while they were separated, he wasn’t alone through all of it. He never wanted Saeran to be alone in any way. If Saeran has to step away, then well, that would leave us with his brother in the process.

I can’t say how much I’d choke up if he thanked us for loving his brother. The guilt in his eyes as he cries and we reassure him. I think that’s one thing that I want the most with Saeyoung. I want him to know freedom from his chains and I want to help him too. There’s a lot that I want out of that and there’s so much of this potential that we can talk about in the AE.

There’s a lot with Saeyoung that I want to think about but so much of it makes me wanna cry. 

I also fear for V and I’ve discussed many of my fears on that matter. I’ll repost my thoughts right here.

Now, in regards to what I sincerely don’t want is a repeat of what went down with V’s After Ending.

I’ve shared my feelings on that matter before and I understand that Cheritz was going for that moral high-road that many people take where they say that it’s better to forgive on your path to healing, and while that can be good for some people, it can leave a sour taste in the mouth of people who don’t pick to forgive the people that hurt them.

I don’t choose to forgive the people that hurt me in many cases. That doesn’t make me a bad person. The problem with the Forgive/Judgement ending is that it can make you feel ashamed for not forgiving someone who quite literally, took funds from the RFA’s first two parties (that’s the only way she could’ve gotten the money to fund Mint Eye, even coercion and manipulation of people on the level that Rika does wouldn’t give her that much ability), manipulated and gas-lit Ray and Saeran for years, deceived and drugged countless people, so on and so forth.

I hate that she’s never punished for her actions. She needs to be rightfully punished for what she did. I want her to get therapy, and I want her to learn that she was wrong for what she did to everyone. I want her to be able to get better for her own health, and I don’t think she should ever be contact with anyone in the RFA ever again. But, that’s up to the RFA if they choose to speak with her or interact with her, not mine. I don’t want her to die, I want her to learn what she did was wrong.

It’s not Mika (Rika Behind Story Spoilers) who went through the cult. Rika had every chance to stop while she was ahead but she kept doing it. I would not forgive Rika, and I would never want to be around her ever again if I were in the position of the RFA when the truth is made known.  

The only action that Rika ever took that could be looked at with the filter of self-defense was when she panicked when the boy’s mother tried to get close to her and harm her in a drunken rage. She acted to protect herself in that situation, but that’s the only thing that she’s ever done that someone could look at and say, she was protecting herself. She felt threatened. She panicked, she blacked out and protected herself from harm.

Don’t get me started on V. I love V, he’s not perfect, he fucked up a lot and he shouldn’t have gone back to Rika. It feels like he saw us love, forgive, and stand by Saeran and thought that he could be able to do the same for Rika, but that is not what will help him or Rika. They don’t need to be together again. They need to be fair away. Rika and V literally burned down the boy’s childhood home and V was wearing his sunglasses, so I can only presume that Rika harmed his eyes after he went to her.

Saeran himself says that he wants to tell everyone about Rika and V, but he needs to be able to discuss it with V. Even Saeran understands that V is a victim to some degree and he wants to help him. 

That was a big fucking comment on his part and I was proud of him for that. 

But, V left for Rika and we don’t know if we’ll ever see him again. So, I really don’t know how that’s going to be handled in the slightest, Anon.

I don’t want Rika and V together, like, ever again.

I want Rika to be punished for her actions and caught. I want V to get away from her and start to learn to love himself again and grow. I believe in him but he’s in need of someone to cheer him on when that abusive relationship ends. I really don’t want a repeat of V’s After Ending.

Don’t make me forgive Rika. 

Don’t make Saeran forgive her, either. 

That’s my worst case scenario fear. I want Saeran to be able to grow and get healthier, for sure, but his final confrontation with Rika should be the last time that he ever thinks about her. He made his mind up and he made it clear that she was wrong and he would never be tricked by her again.

I want him to stand his ground on that. I’ll stand by him no matter what he chooses to do, though. So, I want this to be about Saeran and Saeyoung coming together again, and helping V get out of that relationship with Rika, as well as Rika facing punishment for her actions. 

But, that might be asking a bit too much, haha.

Ideally, I want Saeran and the player to be able to reach out to V and help him get away from Rika as she’s taken down as well. We don’t know if she left Mint Eye for sure, we don’t know if she and V ran away. Who is running the Cult? Is the cult put to a stop or did Rika put somebody else in charge? It’s hard to say on that front and I’m still not sure how that’s going to end up. 

V can open up and work out everything that’s going to fall out here as it did in the events of V Route with Rika. He’ll need to work out everything with Jumin and the others, but I have hope for him to be able to face what went wrong and not only get the help he needs, but get the support of his support circle behind his back as everyone rallies behind him. 

I would love he and Saeran to be able to work out everything, Saeyoung as well, because even Saeran is willing to work with Jihyun. Rika to get some therapy, get punished for her actions and that to be dealt with is great. It never happens so. That would be a nice change.

Saeran knows that V is a victim in all of this too. So, it remains to be seen how this is going to be handled. I can only pray that Jihyun is able to be rescued as we rescue Saeyoung (hopefully, fingers crossed.) I’m still so proud of Saeran for doing that. 

God. 

I’ve talked about Choice and Saeran before in regards to the Secret Ending and his Good ending and... well, I’ll direct you to that post. To read about how important it was for Saeran to be able to choose what  he wanted to do with his life instead of having options forced on him. 

Can we discuss this photo as well from the Special Believer Box that I’m nearly about to buy at this point with whatever comes out with AE cause I need it?? I’m gonna go fucking broke. For you. Saeran. For you. I was saving my money for Christmas and now I’ve got a reason to live. 

I still don’t know if this is the implication of what will happen in the AE or if it’s something that will just exist as a standalone image. I still don’t know why Saeran would be dresses as his brother for some reason, unless there’s a twin switch-a-roo plot somewhere in all of this? I mean, bold choice, but I don’t know. I just think I needed to say again how cute that I think Saeran is in Saeyoung’s outfit. He’s so tiny and slender in comparison to his brother. 

I’m gonna fucking smooch his forehead. I don’t know, I want the CG title screen and this photo here to imply that the Choi boys will be alive and happy together once all is said and done. I can’t say that I know where we’re heading but there is bound to be an adventure to hunt down Saeyoung, but I’m not sure where it will take us. 

A wild-goose chase alongside whatever mystery is left. I can’t wait. 

My ideal ending is one where we get to live in a little house by the sea with a garden with Saeran and Saeyoung where we can visit and chat with the RFA whenever we want. But, we’ll have to see what happens. If you want to read more about some of the things that I think he wants to do with his MC now that he’s free check out this post. 

Anyways. 

Kait’s gotta go cry now. 

[samcrobae]

Two of Hearts, Part II

A/N: Part 2 for Two of Hearts, Part one can be found here https://samcrobae.tumblr.com/post/637625871146074112/two-of-hearts

Gif Credit to the original creators, as always

EZ glanced between the two of you then shoved past Angel.

Slightly outstretching his arms to you, he warmly speaks, “I’m home baby”. The bile in your throat threatens to spill out so you keep your arms crossed against your chest and retreat backward. Angel notices the action and sticks his hand in front of his younger brother.

“Look man, maybe give her a minute.” EZ creased his brows and slapped Angel’s hand away.

“Nah look man.. how bout you tell me what the hell is going on?”

“Are you fuckin serious right now EZ? You want US to tell you what is going on? How bout YOU tell us. Where the fuck have you been bro? 8 fuckin months you’re gone and you just show up here with no heads up,” Angel’s voice now a yell, “I spent 3 fuckin months looking for your ass day and night. I wasn’t sleeping, wasn’t eating, barely worked, barely helped the club and you were nowhere to be found. Do you know what it was like thinking your brother was dead?”

Your heart began to race as you watched the veins in Angel’s neck on the verge of exploding. You didn’t know what to do or say, and your feet betrayed you in the worst ways. You were frozen in place, you couldn’t bring yourself to move. You did the only thing you knew how.

“Ezekiel, get out”. Both men snap their heads back and look at you. Angel’s eyes grow wide and EZ’s brows remained furrowed.

“What?”

“I said-get out-now. I have nothing to say to you right now and I just want to go to bed. It’s fucking Christmas for fucks sake. Just.. get out.”

There was a moment of silence that lasted about 15 seconds, with the three of you standing in the same spot, staring at one another. And in those 15 seconds, you swear you felt an eternity pass. You glance at Angel and notice his slender frame, now broad and tense, on guard as to not knowing what would happen next. FInally, EZ shook his head, tears form in his eyes, but turned before you could take notice. He turned and grabbed his bag, and headed toward the door. His hand on the knob, he turned to face Angel, jaw clenched and if looks could kill, Angel would have been dead 4 times over tonight. He walked out the door, slamming it deliberately behind him and his bike roared to life.

As soon as the door shut, you legs betrayed you once again, falling to the floor, an emotional mess and Angel rushed over to you. No words were needed in that moment, because he already knew what it was that you needed.

———————————————-

The next morning you woke, but Angel was gone. You checked your phone and and saw a text from him.

📲 Ignacio:

“Had a shift at the yard this morning. Come by around lunch time, we’ll get something to eat if you want.”

Your head was spinning from the events that took place a few short hours before. What the hell was EZ doing here? Why did he come back? Where did he go? You had so many questions and none of the answers. You knew the only person who was able to give them to you would be EZ, but you didn’t have the strength to have a conversation with him. Not now anyway.

Back at the yard, Angel was sat at one of the benches playing with an unlit cigarette between his fingers. He was unphased as Coco and Gilly took seats across from him.

“You good Mano?” Coco was the first to speak, detecting a look of defeat on Angel’s face.

Angel brought the cigarette to his lips and then lit it, inhaling the smoke, then slowly letting it out, he nods his head at Coco. “My brother come by here last night?”

“EZ? Why would EZ come by? Is he here?” Gilly shot a glance over at the trailer that had remained parked in the lot the last 8 months.

Nodding his head, Angel takes another puff of his cigarette, “came by Y/N’s place at 2 in the morning.”

“Damn, how is she doing?” Coco asks, now lighting a cigarette of his own.

“I don’t know, shaken up obviously. She told him to leave and then she was a mess. Then she just snapped out of it. She was blank, emotionless and then went to sleep. When I left this morning she was still asleep.”

“Well yeah, he just left with no explanatio—hang on. Bring that back a minute, when you left this morning? You stayed over at her place?” Gilly leaned in, his voice now a hushed whisper.

“Yeah we just kinda fell asleep at her place after the party here. Don’t make it a thing.” Angel stomped his cigarette out.

“I’m not making it a thing. It’s not a thing.... did you sleep with her?”

“What? No. What are you 12? Did I sleep with her? No..” Angel pressed his lips together in a thin line.

Coco smirked, “nah but something happened.. I can tell.”

All eyes were on Angel and he sucked his teeth, looking around to make sure there were no listening ears, “we kissed, alright, you happy? I Kissed my brothers girl. She stopped it before it went any further.”

“But you wanted it to go further.” Both Gilly and Coco said. It wasn’t an ask, not a question, but a matter of fact statement. Angel stood quiet, then looked down at this hands, playing with this rings.

“It’s okay to like her Mano. You guys have been through more shit in the last 8 months than a person would in a lifetime. She knows you in and out, good and bad, but she wants you around, wants to spend time with you. She wouldn’t have let you kiss her if she didn’t. But she’s vulnerable. You are too. Be careful.” Coco stomped his cigarette out and looked over at Angel.

“Look man its too early for the Church of Coco. I’m done talking about this. I mean it”- he tapped Coco on the arm, “don’t make this shit a thing.”

__________________________________________________________

You walk into the clubhouse, scanning the room for Angel, but see Letty and Riz at a table, Letty lost in some homework she had to catch up on over break.

“Hey Trouble, you’re still working on that paper?” You wrap an arm over her and she comes in for a hug.

“Yeah, I’m almost done, actually, can I ask you to look it over so far? Riz sucks.”

“Ouch! You said I was a big help!” Riz feigns insult but gets up and laughs.

While you were looking over her paper, your phone lights up and EZ’s name flashes across the screen with a message:

📲 Ezekiel ❤️: Hey Y/N. Can we talk? Let me know when you’re free.

You pick up your phone but not before Letty notices. You’re lost in thought, reading and rereading the messages and the doors swing open, Angel and Coco striding in. Angel sees you and smiles in your direction, and heads over to greet you.

He went in to kiss your head and you stood up to hug him, your head awkwardly hitting his mouth, both of you stumbling over your words, “Sorry.”

“It’s cool, I’m gonna go wash my hands and change my shirt and we can go alright?” Angel disappears into the bathroom, Gilly and Coco smirking at the painfully cringe worthy exchange.

“It’s a thing.” Coco laughs and nudges Gilly.

Letty looks over at you, “its okay to love them both.”

Your eyes shot up in shock, then you felt the heat in your cheeks. “What?what are you talking about?”

She smiles then leans in closer to you, “Angel and EZ. It’s okay to love them both. You love them differently, and they love you differently, too. They have both done different things for you.”

Angel reappeared from the bathroom, “ready?”

“Yeah, I’m just wrapping this up, I’ll be right out”- you turn to look at Letty, “I don’t love them both.”

You met Angel out in the yard and got into your car, his hand coming to rest on your thigh as you reversed out of your parking spot. This felt right. His hands on you. His lips on yours. The way he smiled when he saw you earlier.

You didn’t love them both.

Right?

———————————-

@starrynite7114 @angelreyesgirl @drabbles-mc @wrcn9fvlcver @iambabyharry @sesamepancakes @blessedboo @everyhowlmarksthedead

[malfoymanortings]

fluorescent adolescent PART 2

summary: Fred Weasley has been drawing the eldest Malfoy daughter since his third year of Hogwarts. Elara Malfoy has fancied Fred Weasley since her fifth year at Hogwarts. It is during their final year, that the two of them do something about the mutual attraction.

pairing: Fred x OC older Malfoy sister

not related to flames and snow!! just a different perspective on Fred x older Malfoy sister.

let me know if you guys want a part three. also, this was my first time writing smut so hopefully it was good!

Elara Malfoy had a thing for Fred Weasley. 

She wasn’t quite sure when it had started, maybe in third year when he had stumbled into her path reeking of gunpowder; he had taken that opportunity to bow to the “Slytherin princess” and apologized profusely before being dragged off by his twin. Daphne Greengrass, her closest friend, had scoffed and told her the blood traitor was mocking her. 

But although Elara agreed, she secretly felt it wasn’t a joke to Fred. 

So yes, it was her narcissism that made Fred Weasley seem so appealing to her, as the thought of the boy calling her the Slytherin Princess (I am so sorry I knocked into you, goddess, it won’t happen again, I swear it!), made her liking of the boy grow. Of course, that was a secret she would have to take deep to her grave with her, unless she wanted to be disowned and removed from the Malfoy family. Elara had already worked hard to be part of that family, as her father was a rotten man with disgusting ideals and the worst view on punishments for a child. She didn’t spend her childhood taking beatings for both her and her brother to prove her worth just to throw it all away over a boy, a blood traitor nonetheless!

It was hard, though. Especially when she knew he stared at her all the time. Especially during the Yule Ball, when he had looked so delectable and had taken the gorgeous Angelina Johnson as his date, it was ever so hard for Elara to swallow her jealousy. Theodore Nott may have been handsome, but he was nothing next to Fred Weasley. Fred Weasley was stunning, and had the personality that was rare to find.

Fred Weasley was annoying and witty, hilarious and clever. George and him were the best pranksters Hogwarts had ever seen, in her opinion. Of course, they normally targeted Slytherin’s as their intended victims, but usually it was well deserved, Elara had to admit. The man was so open yet closed off, as Elara had never dared speaking to him. 

Her brother Draco had a big mouth, and the last thing she needed was for him to gossip with father and tell him that Elara was even speaking civilly with a Weasley.

Yet when the opportunity in Potions class presented itself, Elara agreed upon meeting Fred Weasley at the astronomy tower around midnight. She dressed carefully that night, her best matching lace set, covered with fishnets and a black skirt, white blouse combo. She left her hair down, rings on her fingers, and applied a generous amount of her perfume to tie it all together. 

Elara headed for the astronomy tower exactly at midnight, taking care to make sure no one saw her leave. She kept her wand up the sleeve of her robes, at the ready just in case she ran into any sort of trouble. Like that idiot Umbridge, what a nasty woman. If it weren’t for her father being so close with the Ministry, she would spit at the woman. Instead, she had to play nice and act like the disgusting toad wasn’t vile.

Fred Weasley seemed impatient, pacing back and forth and glancing at the watch on his wrist.

 Elara stood in the doorway for a moment, admiring him openly for the first time. He was dashing, there was no doubt that the Weasley’s had impeccable genes. He seemed to have gotten a haircut over Christmas break, as it wasn’t as long as she preferred it. He kept flexing his fingers around his wand, and Elara wore a smile as she imagined those same skilled fingers wrapped around her throat.

“You didn’t think I would forget our engagement tonight, did you?” Elara came out from the shadow of the stairwell, smirking when Fred jumped.

“Well, it’s bloody past midnight, innit?” scoffed Fred, stilling his pacing and crossing his arms. 

Elara walked into the room slowly, glancing around the tower and keeping her tone light. “You just said around midnight. I don’t recall you specifying what exact time you wanted me here.”

“Next time I’ll be more clear, then.” Fred took on the same tone she had, and he smirked back at her when her eyes narrowed at him.

“Who said there’s a next time?” quipped Elara, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall farthest from Fred.

“Oh darling, by the time I’m done with you, you’ll be begging me for more.”

With that rather bold statement, Fred walked over to Elara who watched him appraisingly. 

“I rather doubt that, Weasley.”

Fred harshly placed his arms on either side of Elara’s body, his body heat warming her. “Beautiful, if you could just shut that pretty little mouth of yours, you wouldn’t piss me off so much.”

Elara raised an eyebrow, slightly embarrassed that she could already feel wetness between her legs. “Where’s the fun in that, Weasel?”

Fred slammed his lips against hers then, and Elara snaked her arms around his neck. His lips felt like fire against hers, spreading a heat through her body as quickly as a brushfire. His hands ghosted down her waist, sliding behind her hips to grip her bum. Elara bit down on Fred’s lip, harshly dragging his lower lip through her teeth, and Fred moaned audibly, slapping her bum with one hand while the other squeezed harshly.

He trailed his lips down her neck, nipping softly at the skin he had lusted over for so long, dusting kisses across her collarbones. His teeth grazed her skin, making her shiver and let out a moan against her will.

“That’s it darling, be loud for daddy.” encouraged Fred softly, his hands ghosting her inner thighs.

Elara’s breath caught in her throat, and she tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck. She would be damned if she called Fred Weasley daddy.

“Do you want me to touch you, love?” asked Fred, moving his hands up to unbutton her shirt. It fell to the ground, and Fred stared at her creamy breasts hidden from him with a lace bra that seemed to be teasing him.

“Yes.” Elara was breathless, almost embarrassed at how desperately she wanted him to touch her.

“Yes, what?” Fred kissed her jaw, his hands moving down to play with the hem of her skirt. 

She knew he wasn’t going to go further until she said it. “Yes, daddy.”

Fred grinned at her then, and her skirt came down along with her fishnets. He knelt down, pressing sloppy kisses to her thighs as he forced them open. Elara’s legs grew weak, something Fred took notice of.

“Lay down, love.” with a wave of his wand, Fred had conjured up a soft blanket for them to lay on. Elara sat down, before Fred had pushed her down to continue his onslaught against her cunt.

Once again forcing her thighs open, he snapped the waistband of her panties. “Darling, I appreciate the thought you put into these, but next time, come ready for me, alright?” 

He tugged off her panties without waiting for a response, and then ran his hand across her bare pussy. Elara gasped, bucking her hips up, and Fred laughed.

“You look delicious,” Fred ducked down, his breath fanning across her delicate skin. “Good enough to eat.”

He gave her a teasing lick, and again Elara’s hips bucked up on their own accord. Fred placed a large hand on her lower stomach, holding her in place. His other hand held her legs open as he licked and sucked her clit, his tongue sliding in and out of her pussy. Without warning, his mouth left her, and his fingers replaced the warmth of his tongue. First it was one, and then he slowly added another, curling his fingers as he made eye contact with her.

“Fuck,” Elara whimpered, pleasure flooding her body. It was almost too much for her to deal with, the way Fred Weasley was going down on her.

He increased his speed, and Elara arched her back, moaning loudly when he began nipping at her hips, sucking on the soft skin and placing harsh kisses as his fingers pumped faster and faster inside of her. He placed his mouth on her clit, keeping the fast pace with his fingers, and Elara gripped the blanket as a stream of moans left her mouth.

She could feel herself getting close, a coil in her stomach as Fred kept sucking on her clit. As she felt herself nearing the edge, her legs clenching around Fred’s head as she was about to cum, he suddenly pulled away, giving her a cheeky grin with lust filled eyes.

“Why the fuck did you stop?” Elara asked breathlessly, brushing away at the strands of hair that stuck to her forehead.

“Darling, if you want to finish, you’re going to need to beg daddy.”

“You’re unbelievable!”

Fred trailed kisses up her stomach, skillfully reaching behind her back to unhook her bra. Her breasts free, Fred took a hard nipple in his mouth, the other one he explored with his hand.

“Bite me,” Elara said breathlessly, bucking her hips up to the erection that was pressed against her bare pussy. “Bite me daddy.”

She felt Fred smile rather than saw him, and let out a loud moan as Fred Weasley bit down on her hard nipple, pinching the other one with his fingers. He started grinding his hips into hers as he bit and sucked at her tits, and Elara once again had to grip the blanket in her hands.

“Please, daddy,” Elara gave in, running her nails down Fred’s back. “Make me cum.”

Fred paused for a moment, his eyes meeting hers. He gave her a quick grin, before quickly ducking back down to suck at her clit again. Once again, the familiar feeling was building up in her lower stomach, and as Fred pumped his fingers in her pussy and his lips sucked on her bundle of nerves, she finally found release, her legs shaking as she came on Fred Weasley’s face.

“You taste so sweet,” his voice was low, his tone cocky. “Now, my turn.”

Fred slipped his boxers off, and the bare skin of his hard dick brushed against her pussy as he teased her entrance with his head. Elara dragged her nails down his back, and Fred thrusted into her with a groan and made Elara gasp as he began pumping in her.

He spread her legs to the side, resting each hand on either inner thigh, causing him to stroke deeply within her. He went softly at first, letting Elara adjust to his massive size, and then began thrusting his hips deep inside her faster and faster. He soon moved his arms on either side of Elara, and she wrapped legs around his waist.

“Fuck, Elara, you feel so damn good around my dick.” Fred moaned out, burrowing his head into her neck.

“Choke me.” said Elara in reply, letting out a moan as Fred hit a new spot inside of her.

Fred complied, much to her surprise. He wrapped one hand around her throat, squeezing harshly, the other hand propping himself up. The force of his thrusting made her tits bounce, and Elara parted her mouth in a silent moan as Fred’s fingers clenched around her esophagus. 

His thrusting became more sloppy, and she knew he was close to coming. Elara could once again feel the build up in her lower stomach, and she knew she was going to cum once more.

“Daddy, I’m gonna cum.” the words came out a moan, and Fred pressed a harsh kiss to her neck as he picked up his pace once more.

Her walls clenched around him, and his name fell from her lips as her toes curled and her vision went white. She felt his dick twitch before he came inside her with a loud moan, pulling out his dick and laying next to her on the blanket.

Elara kept her eyes shut, feeling the odd sensation of her pussy twitching. It had been her first time, and it had been with a Weasley. 

After a moment, Fred propped himself up next to her, looking down at her still form. He admired her naked body, committing it to memory for later when he would be alone and drawing the way she looked as he made her orgasm. 

“You could stop staring anytime now.” Elara remarked lightly, her eyes still shut.

“You’re gorgeous.” replied Fred, pressing a featherlight kiss to her temple. 

Elara opened her eyes then, shoving Fred away from her and standing. “Alright, that’s my cue to leave. This was fun, trust me, but I really ought to be going.”

“What, you’re just going to leave?” Fred protested, tugging on his boxers as he got up. He kept his eyes on hers as she quickly redressed herself.

“We just needed to get that,” she waved her hands. “Out of our system. Now, we can go back to our separate worlds.”

Fred shook his head, grabbing her hands as she was doing the last button on her blouse. “Elara, we can’t just go back to quietly fancying each other after that.”

Elara’s eyes flashed, and she yanked her hands out of Fred’s grasp. “Watch me.”

Elara tugged her robe on, and after making sure her wand was tucked away, she stormed out of the astronomy tower, leaving Fred Weasley standing alone.

[elliemarchetti]

Could you do a jealous fremione onehsot pls?

I hope you like it and if you want a sequel or any other story, please just drop an ask because I’m soooo happy I’m slowly able to go back to writing.

Words: 1833

As the most varied kind of rumours about the Yule Ball were spreading everywhere, the last week before Christmas break became increasingly turbulent: some professors gave up teaching them much when their minds were so evidently elsewhere, but others, like Binns, McGonagall and Moody weren’t as generous. Professor Snape seemed to have made his personal mission to contain the enthusiasm, and from what Fred understood of Ron’s complaints, he had even scheduled them a poison antidote assignment for the last day of class. If in other circumstances it wouldn’t have bothered the most charismatic of the Weasley twins, at that specific moment it was a huge problem se he intended to invite Hermione Granger, who now spent all her free time divided between the library and the Common Room, her head perpetually sunk between books and notes. He had subconsciously begun to think of her as something other than his brother’s friend about a year ago but only came to terms with it at the end of the previous school year. During the summer, he had found every way to catch her attention, but on balance, it was only stolen time, spent at a safe distance as she certainly didn’t seem bothered by his presence, but neither was actively looking for it. The Yule Ball was his opportunity for a more direct but still cautious step, if only Hermione, in her rare breaks, wasn’t always surrounded by friends: she never went anywhere alone, not even to the bathroom, so his only chance was to ask her to speak alone after the end of the Potions test. When she turned to look at him with her big, hazel eyes, Fred could’ve sworn his stomach jumped, like when you miss a step down the stairs, but he regained enough composure to ask if she had a few seconds to spare.

“It’s a private matter,” he added, glaring at his brother as he realized he was going to try to get involved, as usual. Ron had a good heart, it was undeniable, and unlike him and George, he didn’t do anything maliciously, but he could sometimes be a real meddler, and now he had no time to handle it tactfully.

“Sure,” she replied quietly, just a hint of bewilderment in her voice.

“See you at dinner,” Ron muttered, before sneaking off as if he had interrupted something. Whether he wanted to invite her or simply had no desire to be alone, as Harry had bolted out of the classroom so quickly he hadn’t even noticed him, Fred truly couldn’t care.

"Did something happen? If it has to do..." she began, but he interrupted her abruptly, asking the fateful question, words coming out of his mouth without the usual funny streak that distinguished him. He could feel his ears and cheeks warm, and he suspected his skin had become a chromatic whole with his red hair.

After a moment of embarrassed silence, she too started to blush.

“I’m so sorry,” she began, and somehow her tone was sincere. “But I’m already going with someone else.”

“Oh, okay,” he replied, hoping his disappointment wouldn’t be noticed too much, especially by Professor Snape, who was just walking out of the classroom; he was a mean man, and he certainly wouldn't miss such a glorious opportunity to make fun of a Gryffindor.

“I’m really sorry,” she repeated, when the Professor was no longer within earshot, but before it could become really awkward, Ginny, who looked far too happy for her standards, almost run to meet her friend, calling her from the end of the hall. Too heartbroken to notice, Fred didn’t even raised his head when the girl he’d just been turned down by looked over his sister’s shoulder, the sad expression of someone who wishes they could go back in time. Too curious to resist temptation, that same evening he joined the pleading chorus of Harry and Ron, who desperately wanted to know who their friend's mysterious escort was.

“It’s not my place to tell you,” Ginny replied peremptorily, ending the discussion for good before disappearing into the girls dormitory. The only ones who knew of his intention to invite Hermione were George and Angelina, so he let the latter take care of finding him a lady. Katie Bell seemed more than thrilled to accept his invitation and George tried to distract him with the booming Canary Cream sales. Their housemates constant hype and the spasmodic need to get out of his head the thought of Hermione’s secret date led him to focus more on another product, and even as the snow fell thick on the castle and park, making the Beauxbatons carriage look like a big cold pumpkin glazed with frost, he secluded himself in his bedroom with his twin, going out for longer than a meal only when the most awaited moment of the year came. Katie Bell wore a bright turquoise dress, while Angelina had chosen a decidedly more sober outfit. As always, he and George were in identical clothes, and the four of them went down to the Entrance Hall crammed with students just a little early. The students who had to meet with partners from different Houses made their way through the crowd, looking for each other, and since there was no sign of Hermione, Fred started to mentally go over the names of the Gryffindors not yet present, distracted only when the oak front door opened and everyone turned to look at the Drumstrang’s students entrance. Victor Krum was leading, accompanied by the girl Fred so desperately wanted to have beside him. Hermione had done something to her hair, now straight and flowing, tied in an elegant knot behind her head, and she was wearing a soft periwinkle blue dress that gave the impression she even had a different bearing, but probably it was just the absence of the twenty or so books she usually had hanging on her back. She was smiling, albeit rather nervously, and soon she began talking to Harry and Parvati. She had attracted everyone’s attention, more than Fleur Delacour, and it didn’t escape him how many guys let slip a few lewd glances as the pair of champions advanced towards a large round table where the judges had already taken their seats. By the end of the little parade, his blood was boiling, making him unable to enjoy the walls of the Great Hall covered in glistening silver frost and the hundreds of ivy and mistletoe wreaths crisscrossing across the black starry ceiling. When he took place for dinner at a table set with gold plates in which food would appear on command, the only thing running in his mind was the amount of possibilities the tradition of kissing under the mistletoe on Christmas Eve also existed in Bulgaria. For the whole dinner they chatted so closely that Fred was sure they were going to kiss right there, making him throw up the pork chops he was picking listlessly, completely oblivious to the fact that the worst was yet to come. When all the food was consumed, Dumbledore got up and asked the students to imitate him: with a stroke of his wand the tables shot away and arranged themselves along the walls, leaving a clear floor, where an elevated platform equipped with a complete battery, several guitars and bagpipes, a lute and a cello appeared. Not even the Weird Sisters’ entry managed to change his mood as he knew that soon they would start with one of their most slow song, the perfect excuse for Krum to hold Hermione tightly in his muscular arms. Just as he had feared, the two separated only after several rounds of dancing and Lee, who hadn’t lost sight of his friend for the whole time, surprised him by saying he could still invite her to dance, even if he wasn’t her escort.

“Look at Parvati,” he nearly yelled to be heard above the noise, gesturing across the room. Their housemate was spinning with a tall Beauxbatons guy wearing a perfect light blue suit, someone who definitely wasn’t Harry Potter. Even her sister wasn’t dancing with Ron and as sorry as he was that his brother had lost his partner, it seemed to give him some kind of courage, something he usually never lacked. When he finally found her at the drink stands, Hermione was looking for her escort, so shaken that she seemed to force herself to avoid his gaze.

“What happened?” he asked, jealously suddenly forgotten, replaced by the familiar need to protect her. It was something he had felt since the first time they met, and even if he had mistaken it for a different feeling maybe for too long, the truth had definitely revealed itself at the Quidditch World Cup, when he thought he was going mad not seeing her arrive at the meeting point. They were deep feelings, still too fresh to forget them because she accepted someone else’s invite to a stupid ball.

"Don't worry," she reassured him once she took a long sip of Butterbeer, "I’m being emotional over a silly fight with your brother. I just wanted everything to be perfect tonight, you know?"

All too well, he wanted to answer, but as it was evident that she wanted to let off steam, he let her talk freely. Almost without realizing it, they found themselves in the rose garden, where the dancing lights of the fairies flickered and sparkled, illuminating bushes artfully positioned to create winding ornamental paths, a temporary home for large stone statues and fountains. They ended up talking about other things too, like how Fleur Delacour had seemed unable to stop comparing Beauxbatons to Hogwarts for the whole dinner.

"I have to admit the champions table hadn’t the best company,” she let out with a sigh, but before she could continue, one of her diners turned the corner, with Severus Snape by his side. The Potions professor was blowing rose bushes away with the hostile frown he’d been wearing since the Yule Ball was announced, hissing reproaches and punishments at the dark shapes emerging from their hiding places.

“And what are you two doing?” he asked Fred and Hermione inquisitively. His companion looked rather annoyed to see them there, and rolled his goatee a couple of times around his index finger waiting for their response.

“We were looking for Viktor,” replied Hermione, who had gotten pretty good at lying to professors over her time spent with Harry. Fred felt his stomach tighten again. He had almost forgotten, so great was the joy of being there chatting with her, that inside the castle’s wall there still was a party, and partners to whom they owed dancing and entertainment. Again, that was just another stolen moment, a memory he would keep forever and which she would gloss over describing the evening to her friends.

“Then I advise you to go back inside,” replied Karkaroff. “There is no Durmstrang student in the garden.”