#hanging up my jumpers and yours is just hanging there

[peachesofteal]

pls let Simon hold that baby 🥺

Light on - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader 18+ mdni / mild suggestive content, mention of spanking - could be considered mildly dark and twisty

"Oh, you came!"

What? Yes, he came. You invited him, didn't you? Wasn't that... did he get this wrong? "Er, yeah... I thought you said-"

"I did, I did. Come in." You step to the side, allowing him entry into the hallway where the smell of something incredible lingers, pulling at the pockets of his cheeks. You can cook. Judging by the scent of roast chicken and herbs that fill the room, he knows immediately that you're better than the 'subpar' dinner you mentioned yesterday. "You just ah, seemed unsure. I didn't want to assume." His hand pats his pocket instinctively, seeking the mask, trying to fight the urge to pull it over his face, pleasantly surprised you don't seem off put by his face, or the fact that it's the first time you've seen him without it.

"I had some things going on today, wasn't sure about my schedule until a few hours ago." Lie. It's a lie, a bold faced one. He knew he'd be here from the moment you had rushed out the invite, offering to cook him dinner as he dwarfed you inside your cozy apartment, dead smoke detector batteries in his hand.

"Well, thank you for coming. And thanks for all your help yesterday. I couldn't figure that stupid thing out to save my life." You laugh, teeth exposed, easy and carefree. A shiver ricochets down his spine. Why you let him inside your flat the first time, he'll never understand. Maybe one day, he'll reprimand you for it. Chide you for letting a stranger inside your home, remind you to be more cautious. He would explain why you need to more careful, more observant of your surroundings, as his thumb rubbed away the fat tears falling over your cheeks, the result of him taking his palm to your ass a dozen times for the slip up. Can't be makin' mistakes like that, love. Not with it just being you and the baby when I'm not here- he'd tell you, make you promise not to do it again, soothing your tears with cool cream against your skin and gentle, but firm, reassurance.

You just need someone to take care of you, that's all. Teach you.

Emmaline makes a noise, a half babble, half cry, and it breaks him from his reckless daydream, bringing him back to reality in a matter of seconds. What is he thinking? You're his neighbor. He doesn't even know you.

"Thanks for inviting me." You're bent at the waist, hands pulling a roasting rack from the oven, perfectly cooked bird sitting on a bed of potatoes and carrots, and his stomach rumbles almost loud enough for you to hear.

"I owe you. That beeping would've kept little miss here up for hours." You jerk your head in Emmaline's direction, where she's fixated on you, mouth hanging half open. "Needs a few more minutes." You mumble to yourself, and then turn around again. "Do you want a drink? I've got some lagers, and a bottle of wine somewhere." Your fingers knot together, words on the tip of your tongue hopeful, almost... nervous, and you give him another smile, albeit this one is less confident.

"A lager would be good." He tries to settle you by being agreeable, and you produce two from the fridge, your fingers brushing against his when you hand one to him, skin warm and so, so soft, the kind of soft he's rarely felt, the kind that feels like silk against sandpaper. Yours against his.

"So, you said you travel for-" Your question is interrupted by a shriek, a demanding cry from Emmaline, her little fists waving in the air at you, like she's indignant about the redirection of your attention. You pick her up, yellow jumper bright against your red apron, and you shoot him an apologetic grimace. "I'm sorry, I was hoping she'd be down by now but, she's just been so fussy lately." You bounce her back and forth, cries quieting until she's just blinking at you with wet eyes, and the timer on the oven goes off. "Shit. Ah..." You look at her, and then look at the oven. "Can you, would you mind?" You extend your arms, Emma inside them, and he puts every piece of his training to use trying to control his reaction.

His heart soars.

His brain panics.

"Yeah, okay." He says, and you dip forward, pushing her into his arms. He knows how to hold a baby, held Joseph plenty, and she seems to agree, settling in against his chest, hands grabbing at his sweatshirt, tugging and trying to eat the fabric. She's light, lighter than he expected, but still sturdy, and when her lips shift into a gummy smile as she makes eye contact with him, he feels everything logical inside him shutting down.

Beautiful baby girl, and her perfect, sweet, angel of a mum.

He'll be keeping you.

He'll be keeping you both.

[foreveralbon]

Hey, could you write one where y/n is in a long distance relationship with Logan Sargeant. Like when it’s off season she still is in a different country and she decides to surprise him at a Grand Prix and he has no clue but the team helps her

All fluff please ❤️

thank you so much for requesting, i hope you enjoy it 🫶🏻🫶🏻

back in his arms - ls2

the side of your bed that is normally warmed by logan’s body is occupied by the still figures of your cat rupert and his dog coco. rupert’s small head is resting on your stomach as you stroke your finger up and down his nose, and coco is curled up at your feet.

your phone brightens up your dark bedroom and logan is watching you fondly from the other side of the tiny screen.

“show me rupert,” he demands, propping his phone up so he can watch you at a normal angle.

“what? have you gotten sick of my face or something?” you accuse him with a laugh.

but you still tilt the screen to show logan, who coos at the sight of your cat. rupert meows before turning his body so that he faces away from you.

“now look what you did, you scared him off!”

he just laughs and insists that it was you. the screen is so bright that you squint when it glares in your eyes, and logan tells you to turn the light on and your brightness down before you hurt your eyes.

“i can’t be bothered to.”

he just rolls his eyes, feigning dismissal though he already knew what your response would be. there’s something about the fact that he’s trying to recreate everyday life with you over the phone - teasing comments, cuddles in bed, bullying your pets, random conversations at the most random times. it has you feeling giddy inside, and it’s more than enough to keep you satisfied for now. at least until the next time you see him, which, if things go your way, won’t be too far long.

“you’re wearing my jumper,” he notes. “are you cold?”

“no. why so many questions today?”

“just wanna look after you. it’s the next best thing i can do considering i’m not with you.”

and it quite probably is the next best thing he can do - he’s in las vegas, with drunk people stumbling down sidewalks, with men who’ve gambled big and loss hard and with led billboards blinding his sight everywhere he goes, while you lay at home in bed, smothering yourself in every single thing of his you can find - his clothes, his blanket, his cologne.

you’re wearing his hoodie now, sleeves tugged down to your fingers and hoodie strings tied to below your chin. you look warm and cozy and logan wants nothing more than to be with you in that moment.

“i know, lo. i want you here more than anything too.”

“i wish you could’ve come with me.” he hasn’t stopped saying that since he first called you half an hour ago, eyes drooped with sleep and lips pouted as he tried to imagine you beside him.

i know, is all you say. and seeing as how there’s an unread message from alex albon asking you what time your flight lands in nevada, and your suitcase is sitting in the corner of your room, packed full of clothes and necessities for both you and your boyfriend, it’d be quite embarrassing for you if you rocked up to quali to surprise your boyfriend only for him to not want you there.

truthfully, the only reason you’re wearing his hoodie is to hide the plane clothes that you wear beneath - though, you’re not too sure why he hasn’t questioned the hoodie despite the fact he knows it’s hot out.

“i’ll be there for abu dhabi,” you promise, and he nods before blowing a kiss goodbye through the screen.

your room is shrouded in darkness when he hangs up - you really should open up the blinds or turn the lights on, but the thought is pushed to the back of your mind by the bubbling anticipation in your stomach at the idea of seeing logan before the end of the day.

—

your flight had been delayed. one hour, two hours, three hours and your nails would have started bleeding if it had been delayed an hour extra.

you’d planned it in your head - if the flight leaves at three, you get there by seven and have some time to yourself before going to track and surprising logan. that was the one thing that didn’t go your way.

now, it’s 10:30pm and you’re rushing your way through the paddocks, praying that you make it to catch a glimpse of logan driving.

lily’s trailing behind you, hand gripped tightly in yours so as not to lose you. she’d picked you up from the hotel, freshly ironed clothes in hand because she’d known you wouldn’t have time to prepare your own yourself. you arrive in the williams garage with 15 minutes to spare.

james greets you with a hug before doing the same to lily, and you move to stand behind him. someone comes up to you both, offering you a headset, and almost immediately, logan’s voice comes flooding in. his familiar drawl, though strained with effort from racing, has your blood pumping. you’re here, he’s here, and you’re only minutes away from being back in his arms.

“how are we doing?”

“good,” james replies. “if you push, you can set a much faster lap time.”

there’s a bite of determination in logan’s tone when he replies with a firm “will do” and you just know he’s about to try his hardest. your eyes follow the little blue dot on the screen that’s supposed to be him and there’s so much happening on the screens that you don’t know what to focus on.

but it’s when he sets a lap time that puts him in p7 - and with alex, both williams in the third row for the race - that sets your blood alight, celebrations erupting from the whole garage. lily cheers for both alex and logan and pulls you in for another hug.

“great job, everyone,” logan says, voice crackly over the radio one last time as he pulls into the pit lane. “that was for my girl, i hope she was watching.”

you can’t help the blush that creeps up your cheeks, hiding from the gaze of every proud team member who watches you in place of your boyfriend.

logan’s car comes rolling into the garage and you step into view when he jumps out. it takes a moment for him to go around, accepting congratulations, and well done’s, and good luck’s from the team. it’s only when he turns around to place his helmet on the closest table that he spots you, a proud smile stretching your face and his jacket hung over your shoulder to shield you from the cold las vegas air.

he freezes. he raises his hand, half-pointing to you, like he’s asking if everyone else can see you too. alex just laughs and pushes him forward.

logan’s hands come up to squish your cheeks, jaw dropped in disbelief as his eyes scour your face as though to check that you’re really real. “you came here and surprised me. you were at home this morning.”

“i did. i was.”

he falters over his words, kissing you between each stutter. around you, everyone goes from watching you to busying themselves, giving you as much privacy as possible in a crowded room. “how?”

“alex and lily coordinated flights and timing, james hooked me up with a hotel room. you have to thank them.”

“i will,” he nods. “you’re here.”

“i am,” you whisper. he holds your gaze now, sky blue eyes spilling every untold i love you, i miss you, i’m never leaving you again in yours. “you did so well, logan. i’m so proud of you.”

his face splits into a bright grin. “it’s ‘cause you’re here, now. and i talked to you earlier. kinda like you’re my lucky charm.”

“i like the sound of that.”

“don’t ever let me be alone again, okay?”

“i promise.”

author’s note: sped through that second half so i could have it out in time to manifest a good quali for logan

@namgification @queen-aria-things @lipringlrh let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist!

[holyghostbelle]

Call the shots part two

Oliver quick x fem!reader

TW:DUBCON? DARK!OLIVER(it's literally him though so idk)slight reader x felix, but also oliver pinning over felix because no ones mentioning that??? reader and Oliver lowkey hate each other I guess, SMUT, ORAL(fem) (a/n, Thank you!!! thank you so much for the attention the last part received, I haven't written in forever and ever and salt burn just reeled me in like a fish. there's going to hopefully be a third part to this to end the lil series,/// wish men actually kissed like this gif 😔)

if you haven't read the first part to this click here!

my master list

The first time you had met Felix Catton you were eight, your first summer at the Saltburn estate and after meeting Venetia at an all girls private school you had been introduced to her older brother by one year. Felix was mesmerising, he was like a prophet, everyone loved him, and you felt yourself fall in love with him deeply, of course at first Venetia hated it, you were hers, you belonged to her. But years after spending summers while your own family spent summers in Venice and Paris for business you had become Felixs as well. No jealousy had become between either of them. You had lost your virginity to him, smoked your first cigarette with him, your first line of coke, your first shot. All of your firsts and now. 

None of your lasts.

The air was heavy with grief as the Cattons to give the farewell to their beloved. Tear-streaked faces and her eyes swollen, Elsebeth stands stoically, hands gripped with Venetias. The service wasn't beautiful, but nothing could live up to Felix.

You stand opposite Oliver, his face crumpled, gripping the white handkerchief from dinners ago. The room echoes with muted sobs, you stand in disbelief, the last you had seen Felix his gold wings loomed over you, and now they hung from his bed untouched.

His grave now laying in the estates graveyard, six feet under with people who he hadn't met, you run you hand over the temporary wooden cross, his bracelets hanging from the oak, you taste the tears on your cheeks and Venetia clutches at your arm, mascara running over her cheeks, just like yours.

It's raining and the Cattons and you throw Felix's rock in the river before returning to the house. Oliver stays behind and returns with muddy knees, his shirt see through. When Venetia excuses herself to her room that night, you find yourself wandering saltburn in the dark with a glass of deep red wine in your hand, all you can think about is Felix's swollen blue face lying in a pile of puke. There was no beauty in his death. 

Clad in a white night gown and Felix's jumper you find your self in his room.

It suffocates you with the smell of cigarettes and cologne. the smell of Felix prevalent in his sheets comforts you. closing your eyes you begin to believe he's still there.

Suddenly you hear a sloshing of water. Deciding that Oliver must be taking a bath you think to yourself, a few minutes go past and Oliver enters the room. He's clad in blue boxers and a red robe, you can hardly remember the timid boy with frameless glasses at the beginning of summer. Silently, you observe Oliver as he moves with a heaviness in his step.

“What are you doing in here?” you ask, you smooth down the covers with your hand, rings catching on a bare thread, the duvet is lumpy and you assume it's from the socks Felix would shed off in his sleep.

“I should ask you the same thing” He questions back.

“Felix was mine first, I saw you crying at the funeral. Like you had known him for years and it's been six months, pathetic really."

You stare at him as he bends to meet with you at eye level, he leans on to his knees with his hands as you turn from his glare. He feels the heat radiate from your cheeks. They're wet, his hand meets your face wiping the salty tears with the back of his hand, rough against your skin.

“Stop it, Stop it Oliver” you cry, your hand meets the small of his wrist pushing it away from your face. They fall to your lap, your gaze following.

And suddenly “Apologise to me” he orders, his thick fingers grip at your chin, forcing you to look up at him. You stare through your lashes, one eyebrow raised at him. 

“what? Sorry for what?” you question, your head tilts, hair following.

“Say sorry for being such a bitch to me, such a bad girl” he coos. His other hand stroking at the wetness of your face. 

And you whimper at him. It's so delicious, he feels himself harden.

His eyes darken, pulling his hand back. You begin to think he's going to leave but your face is smacked to the left. Heat rushing to your cheek. 

“ow, what the fuck Oliver” you clutch at it.

“I said apologise, tell me your so sorry for being a rude brat this summer, make me believe it”

“You're joking,” your eyes widen.

He grips at your chin again,you think it might bruise this time, and as your eyes meet you feel something you haven't felt in forever, fear. Your heart thumps against your chest.

“I'm so sorry that you think i’ve been a bitch to you this summer Oliver,” your chest heaves. Teeth gritting at him. 

Oliver, however, doesn't seem satisfied; his grip on your chin loosens only to be replaced by a vice-like hold on your hair.The room feels like a confined space, trapping you in a twisted dance.

“Again” he commands with venom. You feel the grip on your hair tighten and you are pulled back in submission, reminded of the bruise on your arm from him.

You hiss at him as he holds your head up by your hair. “ I'm sorry!” you sigh “im sorry ive been a rude bratty bitch, i'm really sorry” you comply and his hand once cruelly knotted in your hair loosens.

His head cocks to the side, cooing at your disgruntled face “ Got there in the end didn't we?” he smiles looking down upon the soft of your faces, smoothing your hair down.

You nod at him quickly, and your body stills, eyes flickering down, you refuse to hold gaze with him. He still stands above you. 

Lips trembling you stutter,“Venetia was right.” 

“Huh?” he interrogates, eyebrows rising, intriguing him.

"You really can make people do whatever you want," you murmur, a bitter realisation lingering in your words, the taste of  imbalance still fresh on your tongue. Oliver smirks, a perverse satisfaction radiates from his gaze upon your body. You squirm underneath him.

"Then kiss me," he commands, his tone laced with an arrogant confidence that sends shivers down your spine. It hangs in the air, an unspoken challenge that demands submission. He bends to meet you once again.

You push your morals aside. Leaning in and allowing your lips to meet his in a forced union. His hand cups around your neck and tightens as you murmur against his grip. He parts your knees with his own. The oak bed frame digging into the flesh of your thigh as he runs his cold hand against it. 

“Fuck” he grunts. Your breath catches as Oliver's grip tightens around your throat. In that moment, something shifts, and his lips crash onto yours. Oliver's lips mold against yours; it's cruel and leaves you breathless, but it's too harsh to feel like Felix, and the breathlessness makes you panic, not giddy. Oliver is every bit harsher than Felix and it reminds you of how fleeting of a memory he will be. His weight presses into you as you paw at his chest, mewling against him you breath against each other in open mouthed kisses , he licks up into your mouth, thumb pulling your bottom lip down and watching it bounce back in satisfaction he smirks as he peers down on your body hand gripping at your thighs you whine.

He pushes your white silk nightgown up over your hips revealing your pussy,  smiling to himself and dips a finger in your wetness.

‘Hate me and yet you're soaked’ he grins up to you, his cheeks just at your knees, eyes looking so sweet.

He bites and sucks into the succulent flesh of your thighs, you gasp as his lips meet your cunt and indulges himself in you. You mewl your juices dribbling down his chin and creating a wet trail on his face.

“Fucking slut, could Felix make you come?”he questions. 

You nod at him.

“how sweet, too bad ill fucking ruin him for you” his hands traces at your thighs wandering up to your hips,

“Actin’ all innocent under me now, i know what girls like you are like ,your a fucking tease is what you are”

He dives in once again and your hand grips at his hair, it's gotten longer. He's every bit rougher than Felix, choosing to pinch and suck rather than kiss. You gasp and whimper as he eats you like his last meal, hands tightening on his hair. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” you moan, he smirks under your hold, hands grasping at your hips to pull you towards him, you hump at his face and he drinks you up like nectar, feeling the pressure build.

“Mmm, close Oli” you whine.

He goes everybit harder and faster than before, and you feel the pressure snap, you convulse under him. Moaning and overstimulated, you whimper as he laps you up.

 His head leaning against your thigh, he looks up at you, bright blue eyes smiling up at you. Realisation settles in.

"You alright?” he strokes the length of your arm. 

You look away from him, biting down on your lip before slipping the covers over your body, now cold in the ridiculously big house, he joins you in Felix's bed.

“yeah, no, I'm fine.” you smile at him. Laying down and turning your body away, you feel his hands snake around your waist, you close your eyes, you feel so dirty.

Guilt pools in your stomach.

The light filters through the dark curtains, a curse of being south facing. Oliver lies there cocking his head, you pull on the red robe, smoothing back your hair. as you scurry to the bathroom to wash your face. Hand on the golden door knob you hear something smashing to the marble floor. Your eyebrows furrow, the door swings open and the maid in front of you releases a guttural scream, the bathroom floor is filled with murky red water and your eyes meet hers. Venatias head floating out of the bath, her blood spilling over the bath. You fall backwards, hand clutching over your mouth, Oliver peeks his head round the corner, his eyes widened. You push the door closed. 

Eyes flickering to the floor. You swallow. “I think you should go back to your room Oliver.” your hand reaches out for his arm, “ i think it's best i tell Elsebeth”

He nods,you choke back tears. Flapping your hands over your face before calling an ambulance.

Oliver is gone, he left in the morning shortly after Venetias funeral, you assume James had paid him off. 

You pack your things, one week of summer left and then oxford university, you look into the room adjoining yours. Venetias, she won't be coming to Oxford with you and neither will Felix, you begin to wonder if you'll see Oliver and how best to avoid him, not wanting to get into the complications of things, hoping you would never run into him.

When your luggage is piled up by the main door, Elsebeth and James stand next to you, smiling. 

“You will join us for the ski trip this winter won't you, dear?”

You smile at her, head nodding “ Mum and Dad said they would be coming, i think it would be best if we all spend christmas together” 

James nods at you, “maybe we could share the chateau with you, there's loads of rooms” 

You smile “of course, i'll let them know, thank you for this summer, amid everything it was lovely” you hand clasps around Elsbeth's shoulder, but she pulls you in for a quick hug, James taking to patting you back. 

“Well, I'll message you how I get on at oxford. Gosh ten years have flown by havent they?”you laugh, eyes watering. “Well goodbye, I'll see you christmas.”

the next part

@callsignwidow (comment to be added to taglist)

[ddejavvu]

hiya! i’m literally in love with your writing!

i was wondering whether you do another part of the cat animagus collection?

maybe one where no one can find where r is, they spend ages looking for her. when they reach the dorms or something she’s in a really odd spot that only a cat could get to

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4

--

After a thorough search of both the grounds and the castle, Sirius Black bursts through the door to his dormitory and looks wildly around the messy room. He sees Remus studying at his desk, James reading upside-down on his bed, several piles of dirty laundry strewn across the floor, but no you.

"Jesus, mate," James hisses, righting himself and looking bewilderedly at his friend, "What's the matter with you?"

'Gimme the map," Sirius demands, and when James doesn't scramble for it fast enough, he barks, "The map, Prongs! Y/N's missing."

Remus's nose scrunches, "She had a headache earlier. She's probably in her dorm."

"I've checked her dorm, Moony," Sirius resists the urge to sneer at the man, "I'm not stupid, thank you very much."

Remus doesn't appreciate Sirius's tone, no matter how restrained it is from what it could have been. He mutters something disdainful when he turns his attention back to his studies, seriously doubting Sirius's assertion of his own intelligence.

Sirius chooses to ignore it in favor of snapping at the map, the trigger words lighting it up in a coffee-brown display of home. His eyes flit to your dormitory first, finding it, of course, empty. Then the library, also devoid of your presence. The grounds show similarly none of you, and it's James who spots your name in their own bedroom, nose scrunching and raising his glasses as he points at the banner.

"Prongs, she's not- wait," Sirius huffs, shooting a glance at the corner of his room where you're supposedly lurking, "She hasn't borrowed your cloak, has she?"

"No, it's in my trunk," James shakes his head, studying the empty space of Sirius's bed and puzzling how you could be there and nowhere all at once, "Moony, is there an invisibility potion?"

"Not one that would last her since we've been here," He doesn't bother turning from his work, "We would have seen her by now."

"Well she can't just be there," Sirius scoffs, studying and re-studying the map like it'll admit to pranking him and showcase your real location in some hidden chamber, "Has anyone been in the closet today?"

"You think your girlfriend is hiding in the closet?" Remus verifies, once more not dignifying Sirius with a glance. It aggravates him, but he withholds from swatting Remus upside the head.

"Well, Moony, she can't have just disappeared, can she? She's gotta be in here somewhere, or else this map is shoddy. And I made it myself, so..." Sirius clenches the parchment in his fingers, grip too-tight and bruising it like skin. His eyes catch an old, out-of-use beater's bat that's protruding from the end of his bed and his words catch in his throat, silencing what would have been a very boastful statement about his magical craftsmanship.

"Hang on," He shoves the map at James, who smooths out its wrinkles with a grimace. Sirius darts for the end of his bed, reaching a tentative hand beneath it until his fingers meet soft fur and the blood rush of a beating heart.

"Gotcha," Sirius hums, peering beneath the space and, though his eyes have to strain in the little light offered by the rest of the room, he discerns that you've managed to wriggle your way into an old jumper of his; likely why you haven't heard their bickering.

"C'mere, darling," He croons, flat on his stomach as he gently pulls you out of the space. Your head comes uncovered and you wake with a start, but he's got a firm enough grip on your furry belly that you can't wriggle away from him.

"You gave me quite a scare," Sirius's tone should be admonishing like his words, but it's light and airy with mirth, "And a lot of exercise, darling. I was running up and down the grounds looking for you."

You knock your face against his in a love-warm apology, the fur lining your features ticklish to his slightly sweaty skin. He feels the stress of the hunt melt off of his muscles as he plants himself permanently on the floor, letting you curl yourself up again, this time against his face.

He should pick you up and move to his bed. He should give his sore body some reprieve on the mattress, but you look so perfectly coiled on the floor that moving you would be a sin. So he gets as comfortable as possible with his bony arm beneath his head, and lets your purrs pulse through his body and lull him into the same sleep that comes so easily to you in this feline form.

[vintagecarat]

Drunk Words are Sober Thoughts

Summary: Spencer’s been, uncharacteristically, ignoring you all day, and you’re determined to find out why.

A/N: I’m still alive, I promise! I forgot how much I loved posting my work on Tumblr (the validation seeker in me feels so fulfilled every time I look at my inbox). This was one of the first ‘x reader’ fics I ever wrote, but it’s been a couple of years since and I’m really hoping there’s been some improvement. 

Enjoy the fic, and have a fantastic day <3

Note(s): gn!reader & no pronouns used, mentions of alcohol (reader gets quite drunk), shameless Korean movie name drop, drunken confessions and kisses (with consent!)

Word Count: 2801

* * *

Heavy sheets of rain pelted down onto you as you weaved through the busy streets. Occasionally, a car would drive through the roadside puddles, splashing you and soaking you to the bone. You hadn’t brought a coat. You didn’t think you were going to need one. The sun had still been shining when you’d left your apartment in Quantico.

You had planned to go home, collapse onto your couch and work your way through a tub of cookie dough ice cream that you knew was sitting in the back of your freezer. Instead, you’d taken the hour-long journey to Washington DC. Spencer had been completely ignoring you, and Spencer was never the type to completely ignore you. You hadn’t managed to speak to him at all throughout the day, you'd barely been able to make eye contact with him for more than a millisecond, and you wanted to know why.

Standing outside Spencer's door, your eyes crossed as you watched a water droplet drip from your nose. You were acutely aware of the puddles you were leaving on the carpet and you shifted in place a little, hoping to not soak one particular spot too much.

You hadn't even noticed that Spencer had opened the door until he softly said your name, "What…" he started to say, speaking as if he was in a trance, "What are you doing here?"

"Hey, Spencer," you gave him a little lopsided smile, "Can I come in?"

Spencer looked you up and down briefly, and for a moment you were convinced that he was about to slam the door in your face, "Yeah. Come in," he shuffled aside, "You must be freezing."

You slid past him, "Yeah," you laughed, your teeth chattering. You hadn't realised how cold you actually were until you stepped into his apartment where the heating system was on full blast, "You could say that."

"Hang on. Let me just…" Spencer scampered into a room on the other side of the apartment. You could hear him clattering around before he returned a moment later with a towel in one hand and a thread-worn jumper in the other, "Here."

You quickly and gratefully slipped the jumper over your head and draped the towel around your shoulders, breathing a tiny sigh of relief when the cold water stopped dripping onto your neck, "Thanks, Spencer."

A silence fell over the two of you. Spencer's eyes darted around the apartment, making sure to pay attention to everything except you. You and Spencer were never awkward with each other.

"Look, Spence," you clung to the towel a little bit tighter, "I didn't come here to steal a jumper, even though that seems like a great idea right now."

"We need to talk, don't we?"

"Yeah, we do," a sudden wave of self consciousness washed over you, "Have I done something wrong?"

"No, why would…"

"You know you can always tell me if I've done something wrong," you started to ramble, "I don't mind. I'm not going to get mad, or offended, or…"

Spencer cut you off, "Why would you think you've done anything wrong?"

You ran a hand through your wet hair, "Spence, you've been ignoring me all day."

~

You triumphantly clutched the tickets in your balled up fist, "I did it!"

Derek's eyes followed the little scraps of paper as you waved them up and down, "Great. What did you do?"

"I got the tickets!" you excitedly shoved them in his face, "Look!"

"Yeah, I know what tickets are," he gently swatted your arm away, "What are they for?"

"Mother!" you told him, and only when he raised an eyebrow at you did you realise how strange it sounded with zero context, "It's a South Korean movie," you told him, "They're doing a screening of it later this week, and they haven't translated it so it still entirely in Korean."

"I didn't know you knew Korean."

You shrugged, "I'm not exactly conversational, but I understand most of the language. Spencer and I were discussing it the other day so I got tickets for the both of us so we could go together, and…" you stopped when you saw the smirk Derek was hiding behind his coffee cup, "What?"

"Nothing."

"No. What?"

Derek took a deliberately slow sip of his coffee, "It's not my place, really."

"That has literally never stopped you before," you rolled your eyes, "What's wrong? Do you think it's…" you were cut off when the elevator chimed and Spencer stepped out, "Oh! Spence!" you had to jog to catch up with his fast pace, "I got tickets for that movie we were talking about, and I managed to get two so we can go together!"

"I don't think I can."

Spencer's answer made you falter, "What? I thought you were looking forward to seeing it," you said, "It's not until next week, so…"

"No, it's fine. You go and see it, though."

You stopped and watched as Spencer entered the bullpen, took a seat at his desk and proceeded to busy himself in a case file, "Did I do something wrong?"

Derek sidled up to you, sipping on his coffee, "I'd say you did everything right, actually."

"Derek," you warned him, "I swear to God, you sip that coffee suspiciously one more time and it's going straight out of the nearest window."

"Hey! I paid good money for this."

~

"I haven't been ignoring you."

"Please don't deny it, Spencer. That makes it worse," you said, "Ignoring me. Avoiding me. Doesn't matter what you want to call it. You've been doing it."

Spencer avoided your eyes, "I guess I didn't realise."

"Yeah, I didn't think you did," with a sigh  you flopped dramatically onto his couch, "I'd rather you be screaming at me, or I'd even rather you be passive aggressive with me, or something. At least then I'd know that I'd done something wrong."

"I told you, you haven't done anything wrong."

"I've obviously done something to make it seem like you suddenly hate me," you said, "You don't usually ignore your friends for no good reason."

"Hate you? I could never hate you," Spencer sighed, and he sat down on the couch beside you, "You really don't know what happened, do you?"

"If I did, do you think I'd be here?"

He sighed again, "The other night, when we went out after work," he started, "What do you remember?"

"I remember we all went to that new bar that Rossi’s always going on about, and I remember Prentiss getting us involved in that drinking game that I’m sure she was making up as the night went along, and…" you froze, "Oh. Oh no," you groaned, "Please don't tell me I did my Backstreet Boys karaoke set."

"It was quite good, actually," he paused, a smile taking over his face for a second, "Some interesting choreography, too."

You sank further into the couch cushions, buying your face in your hands, "This is the worst day of my life."

"That's it? You don't remember anything else?"

"No," you shook your head, "What else did I do? Did I drop some NSYNC into the mix, or something?" you noticed a faint blush creeping up Spencer's neck, "Spencer?"

"You kissed me."

"What?!"

~

"Are they going to be alright?"

Spencer and Derek looked to the doors of the bar where you and Penelope were stumbling out onto the street.

"I love you so much, Pen."

"I love you too, my sweet angel," Penelope grabbed your shoulders and gently shook you, "You are one of my bestest friends in the whole entire world."

"Alright," Derek slid into the conversation, "I think we best get you two home, hm?"

"And you," Penelope turned to Derek, prodding him in the chest, "You are just the most magnificent person I’ve ever seen," she gently slapped his cheek, "Mr.Magnificent."

You giggled, putting on your best Derek impression, "Lock up your doors. Mr. Magnificent is here."

"Okay. Alright. As much as I'm loving this conversation we're having," he took hold of Penelope firmly by the shoulders and steered her down the street, "You need to go home."

"Speak soon, my love," you blew Penelope a kiss as she and Derek disappeared into the night. You turned to Spencer, "Let's go!" you dramatically pointed in the vague direction of your apartment and strode off.

"Wait," Spencer ran to catch up with you, "You're not going home on your own."

"Obviously," you dramatically rolled your eyes, grabbing Spencer's wrist, "You're coming with me, silly!"

Spencer let out a sound akin to a yelp as you dragged him down the street, and he had to apologise profusely to a couple that you almost rammed into, "Slow down," he called, "Do you even know where you're going?"

You stopped and stared at him, a hand on your chin as you pretended to think, "Of course I do," you bounded off, though Spencer quickly caught your arm.

"You're going the wrong way."

"No, I'm not," you continued marching down the street, only to stop a few steps away and turn on your heel, "Oh."

Spencer shook his head, an amused smile playing on his lips, "Told you."

You marched past Spencer, and you grabbed his hand, "We're going the wrong way."

"We?!"

You and Spencer wandered through the streets in near silence for a moment, the only sound being you humming a completely out of tune song to yourself. You didn’t live far from the bar, and you could’ve usually walked the distance in two minutes. It probably took you almost ten considering you decided to keep stopping at every single little thing that caught your interest.

At one point, Spencer had to grab your hand and drag you down the street. You didn’t mind, though. You could feel your skin tingle a little when your hands connected.

“Oh, come on,” Spencer stood in front of the elevator in your apartment building, practically groaning in frustration at the ‘out of order’ sign that was plastered to the doors, “You have got to be kidding me.”

“It’s broken.”

“I know it’s broken.”

You sat down heavily on the stairs. Your legs were starting to get a little wobbly, and your eyes were starting to droop from tiredness, “It’s always broken.”

Spencer turned to you, shaking his head in amusement when he saw you sitting on the stairs and staring at the ceiling. You weren’t exactly staring at anything in particular, though, “Are you even capable of using the stairs right now?”

“I will be if you carry me.”

“I’m not carrying you,” Spencer gently tugged on your arm, “Come on. What floor is your apartment on?”

“Tenth.”

“Oh, for…” he quickly cut himself off, and he began coaxing you towards the stairs, though he was considering dragging you upstairs at this point, “Alright. Come on, then. Let’s get you home.”

“I don’t want to,” you whined, and you tugged on his hand, “No… No, I have a secret…”

Spencer looked back at you with that same amused smile playing on his lips as he took in your dishevelled state. You looked even worse now that you were indoors, and you looked like you so desperately needed your bed.

“What is it?”

“I can’t shout it out loud, can I?” you giggled again, and you beckoned him closer, “Come here. Let me whisper it.”

“Alright,” Spencer rolled his eyes affectionately, and he took a step closer to you, “Can you tell me now?”

“No,” you grabbed a hold of his jacket as you tugged him a little closer to you, “There. Close enough,” you leant in so that your lips were practically on his ear, “I want to kiss you.”

Spencer’s reaction was as if someone had burned him with a hot iron. He took a step back, and his expression was one of pure unadulterated shock, “You… You want to…” he was at a complete loss for words, “You want to kiss me?”

You hummed in response to his shock, and you clapped your hands. You were practically bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet in excitement as if you’d won something, “Yeah! Can I kiss you? Because I really want to kiss you.”

For a long moment, Spencer’s mouth opened and closed as if he were a fish out of water. It was almost comical, and it definitely made you laugh harder than you already were. Even with your alcohol-clouded brain, you couldn’t help but admire how utterly cute he was. 

“I… I…” Spencer fumbled over his words for a few more seconds, but then he seemed to collect himself. He straightened up, and despite the blush painting his cheeks, his shocked expression morphed into one of happiness, “Yeah. Okay. I… I really want to kiss you, too.”

“Yay!” you barely even gave him a chance to prepare himself before you grabbed his collar and pressed your lips to his. It felt like fireworks were exploding inside your mind for a moment, though you weren’t sure if that was because of the kiss or because of the alcohol. Either way, it was quite possibly one of the most magical moments of your life.

After a few seconds, the kiss broke. Spencer pulled away first, but he seemed almost reluctant to do so, “I… That was…”

“That was amazing!” you finished his sentence for him, “I want to do it again. Can we do it again?”

That got a real laugh out of Spencer, “I think we’ll wait until you’re sober before we do that again,” he gently took your arm and began helping you up the stairs, “Come on. You need to sleep. You’re going to have the worst hangover in the world tomorrow.”

You whined at that, “No, I hate hangovers,” your whining was interrupted when you tripped on the stairs. You would’ve face planted had Spencer not caught you, “Ow. Who put that there?”

~

“Oh my God,” you slumped so far into the sofa cushions that it was a wonder you hadn’t sunk into them, “Spence, I…” you glanced at him through your fingers, “I am so sorry. I…”

“No, no. Don’t be sorry,” Spencer quickly reassured you, and he placed a hand on your shoulder in an attempt to try and ease the nerves that were creeping through in your tone, “You don’t have to apologise. I… I didn’t mind, actually.”

Your hands dropped from your face, and you stared at him, “You didn’t?”

Sure, you’d fancied the pants off of Spencer from the moment you’d walked into the BAU on your very first day. The only reason you never actually said anything was so that you didn’t ruin the friendship the two of you had. You weren’t sure if you were ready to kiss or kill your drunk self for getting you into this situation.

“I kissed you.”

“I know you did.”

“And you kissed me.”

“Oh, so we’ve got two geniuses at the BAU, apparently.”

You swatted his arm, though there was no use pretending to be annoyed when the goofiest grin was taking over your face by the second, “I can’t believe I asked you to kiss me, and I can’t believe you actually chose to kiss me.”

Spencer let out a soft laugh, “Yeah, well, you were pretty insistent,” he rubbed his shoulder, “I’m pretty sure I still have that bruise from where you shoved me against the door and demanded I kiss you again.”

You groaned in a mix of embarrassment and frustration, and you whacked him with the damp towel around your shoulders, “I hate you.”

“Your drunk self says otherwise,” he laughed and deflected the towel, and then he quickly grabbed your hand. That gesture in itself shocked you. You’d never seen Spencer be any type of forward before, “Actually, if you hadn’t had lost all of your inhibitions that night, I don’t think we’d have ever kissed.”

You don’t miss the way your fingers immediately interlace with Spencer’s. It happens so quickly that it’s almost like a natural reaction for the two of you, “Yeah, I guess we wouldn’t have,” you squeezed his hand, and you gave him a smile, “So, does this mean we can actually kiss while I’m sober, this time?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Spencer’s voice dropped to a whisper, and he scooted a little closer to you so that your knees were touching, “I’m glad you’ll actually remember this one.”

You giggled at that comment. You sounded as if you were on cloud nine. You felt it, too, “Yeah. I’ll definitely remember.”

As Spencer gently pressed his lips to yours in a kiss so sweet and so obviously full of affection, those same fireworks that you’d felt a few nights ago came rushing back. They definitely weren’t because of the alcohol.

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Do You Still Love Me?

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here!

in which, harrys been acting shifty lately, when your looking for a shirt in his wardrobe, he gets hostile, when you say your going to go and shower, he gets hostile and for some reason doubts start to creep into your mind about what he’s been doing, so when you confront him about it, he tells you of his secret all along.

word count - 3.1k

23rd December, 2023.

The December air in Holmes Chapel holds a crisp chill, and as you sit in the cozy living room of Harry's family home in Manchester, the warmth envelops you. The room is adorned with festive cheer – a beautifully decorated Christmas tree takes center stage, casting a soft glow of twinkling lights.

The two of you had decided to spend Christmas at his family’s like you do every year, you’ve blended into a member of there family, as if you were always there. Anne considered you as another daughter, and sometimes on accident you sometimes referred to Gemma as your sister, so spending Christmas with them was undoubtedly a no brainer.

You were going to be staying for a total of three weeks, arriving two weeks before the big day and then going home January 1st.

You find comfort on the sofa, admiring the personalized stockings that hang from the mantelpiece, proudly displaying everyone’s initials. One for Harry, one for you, one for Gemma, one for Anne as well as one that is put up every year, an R, for everyone’s angel Robin. The stockings serve as a poignant reminder of the shared holiday traditions and the presence of loved ones, including a thoughtful tribute to his late stepfather.

As you await Harry's return from the grocery shop with his mother and sister, you revel in the tranquility of the moment. The crackling fireplace adds a soothing soundtrack to the scene, enhancing the coziness of the room. You can't help but reflect on the significance of spending Christmas in this familiar space, filled with memories of the past four years.

However, amidst the festive atmosphere, a subtle unease lingers. Lately, you've observed a shift in Harry's demeanor. His actions and words have become increasingly shifty, leaving you with a sense of uncertainty.

He dances around conversations, offering vague responses that only intensify your curiosity. It's a stark contrast to the openness and connection you've shared over the years, causing a quiet concern to settle within you.

You gaze at the stockings once more, the embroidered initials a testament to the bonds that tie your lives together. Yet, as you sit in the glow of the Christmas lights, a question lingers in the air – a question you can't quite bring yourself to voice. The flickering flames cast shadows on the wall, mirroring the uncertainty that clouds your thoughts, which happen to consist of the three moments that you’ve caught him acting weird.

15th December, 2023.

The date was December 15th, and the evening held a quiet tension as you sat on the sofa in Harry's family home, the soft glow of lamplight illuminating the room.

Anne, occupied herself with knitting a jumper, a rhythmic pattern of needles clacking together in the stillness. The warmth of the room, usually comforting, now seemed to underscore an unspoken discomfort.

Around eight at night, the front door creaked open, and Harry entered, an unusual weariness etched across his features.

He had gone out around two, and it was now evening, he just explained to you that a few friends from school wanted to meet up before Christmas, but there was a hint of doubt that remained in your brain.

You couldn't help but inquire about his whereabouts, a hint of concern in your voice.

"Where've you been, Harry?" you asked, eyes searching his face for answers. He shrugged nonchalantly, a vague response that only deepened the unease settling in the room.

Attempting to break through the tension, you pressed further, a furrow forming on your brow. "What's wrong?"

The question hung in the air, met with a dismissive reply.

"Just tired, m’love. Think I might hit the hay early tonight," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact. The words lingered, laden with unspoken weight, leaving you with a sense of disquiet.

As Harry made his way toward the stairs, you couldn't let the matter rest. Concern etched across your face, you followed him, determined to understand the source of his unease. His hand halted you mid-step, a silent plea for space. Unbeknownst to you that it pained him, because he was doing it for the right reason.

"I'd like t’be alone for a little bit," he uttered, the distance in his eyes leaving you feeling shut out.

Left standing at the foot of the staircase, a chasm seemed to widen between you and Harry. The uncertainty echoed in the air, and as he ascended the stairs, the door to understanding remained firmly closed. The normally familiar and comforting surroundings felt alien, the clinking of Anne's knitting needles a somber soundtrack to the unspoken rift.

That night, as you lay in bed, questions lingered in the darkness. The echoes of Harry's vague responses resonated, and a sense of foreboding cast a shadow over what was once a haven of warmth and connection.

19th December, 2023.

The chill of December hangs in the air as you step through the front door, returning from the farmers market with Gemma. The aroma of fresh produce lingers on your clothes, and a shiver runs down your spine as the warmth of the cozy living room beckons.

The house is quiet, save for the faint sounds emanating from the kitchen, where Harry is preparing a cup of coffee for himself.

You navigate the familiar space, following the scent of brewing coffee that wafts through the air. The kitchen is dimly lit, and there he is, Harry, standing by the counter, lost in the quiet ritual of making coffee. His silhouette is a comforting sight, a presence that adds to the warmth of the home.

You make your way up the steps, wanting to be comfy when you greet your lover boy.

The December cold clings to your skin, urging you to shed the layers of the outside world. A yearning for warmth and comfort consumes you, and the thought of slipping into one of Harry's oversized shirts becomes a tempting refuge. The familiarity of his presence in the adjacent room promises solace in the face of the winter chill.

As you move toward the bedroom, the creaking floorboards beneath your feet seem to echo in the quietude of the house.

Gemma strolled into the kitchen, the door swinging gently behind her. She found her brother,

Harry, leaning against the counter, sipping on a cup of coffee. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee beans hung in the air as he greeted her with a cheerful " ‘Ey, how was the market?"

Gemma looked up, offering a warm smile. "It was good, got some nice stuff.

Harry hummed before tilting his head to the side. “Where’s (Y/N)?”

Gemma mirrored his smile, her eyes lighting up. "She went upstairs to get changed, though."

Harry nodded, his attention momentarily diverted as he took another sip of his coffee. However, a realisation dawned on him, and he furrowed his brow. "Wait, she's upstairs?"

Gemma, unaware of the subtle shift in Harry's demeanor, nodded. "Yeah, she mentioned wanting to warm up and change. Why?"

Harry's gaze darted toward the staircase, a sudden sense of urgency gripping him.

"No reason, just wanted t’check on ‘er. Be right back," he said, placing his coffee mug on the counter.

With a quick stride, he headed toward the stairs, a mild curiosity turning into a subtle concern. As he ascended, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. When he reached the top of the staircase, he spotted you about to enter the bedroom, ready to change.

"Hold on a sec," he called out, hastily covering the distance to stand before you, his expression a mix of surprise and tension. "Y’not allowed in there."

Because in his head, if you wanted to get changed, you’d go to his section of the wardrobe because he knows that you’d want one of his shirts, and then you’d find the surprise and he wasn’t planning on ruining that any time soon.

You paused, mid-step, your brow furrowing. "What do you mean, not allowed? H, I'm just getting changed."

His features tightened with an unexpected intensity. "I said, y’not allowed in there," he repeated, the words hanging heavily in the air.

Confusion and concern painted your expression as you took a step back. "Harry, what's going on? Why can't I go into our bedroom?"

His gaze remained fixed, a wall building between you two. "Just... not right now. I need Don't go in there."

You sighed, a heavy breath escaping you, and nodded in resignation. "Fine, whatever. Just get me some clothes, please."

Harry's shoulders tensed, and he hesitated before nodding. "Ye’okay. I'll get y’some clothes."

22nd December, 2023.

You can't help but replay the scenes in your mind—the December evenings, the vague responses, the moments when he seemed to withdraw. Each memory adds a layer of doubt, and as you connect the dots, a stray tear rolls down your face. The fear of him cheating on you lingers, casting a shadow over the warmth that once permeated your shared space.

The absence of Harry, his mother, and sister intensifies the solitude, and the room feels emptier than ever. The Christmas tree, adorned with memories, offers little solace in the face of the growing suspicion. You contemplate the significance of the three instances, questioning the foundation of trust that once defined your relationship.

In the quiet of the room, the tear on your cheek becomes a silent witness to the emotional turmoil within. The fear of betrayal, the uncertainty, and the unanswered questions create a palpable tension, leaving you to grapple with the haunting possibility that the person you love may be slipping away.

As the front door creaks open, signaling their return from the grocery shopping trip, Harry, his mother, and sister step into the living room. The warmth of familial greetings fills the air, and they collectively acknowledge your presence with smiles and hellos. The shared laughter and banter among them, however, are met with a strained silence on your part.

As Harry approaches, intending to seal the reunion with a customary kiss, you rise from the sofa. The heaviness in the room seems to amplify as you avoid his attempt at affection. You make a deliberate choice to distance yourself, turning away from the warmth that once brought solace and comfort.

With measured steps, you ascend the staircase, each footfall echoing a growing emotional distance. The decision to retreat upstairs becomes a silent declaration of your need for space, a momentary escape from the complexities that have woven themselves into your relationship. The unanswered questions and the lingering fear make it challenging to engage in the familial camaraderie that unfolds below.

As you walk away and ascend the stairs, the atmosphere in the living room subtly shifts. Anne, Harry's mother, notices the change in dynamics and glances at her son, concerned etching her features.

"Everything alright, love?" she asks, a mother's intuition sensing the unspoken tension.

Harry, removing his jacket and shoes, offers a dismissive smile. "Ye’, just gonna check on (Y/N) . Be right back."

His attempt to brush off the situation adds a layer of ambiguity to the air, leaving Anne with a lingering worry that she can't quite shake.

Upstairs, Harry follows in your footsteps, the silence between you palpable. As he enters the room, he finds you standing near the window, gazing out into the night.

"Ey’," he begins tentatively, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty. "S’going on? Are y’okay?"

Tearfully, you turn around to face him, emotions laid bare in your eyes. The air is thick with a mixture of sorrow and uncertainty as you pose a question that lingers in the silent space,

"Do you still love me?"

The vulnerability in your voice cuts through the room, leaving an atmosphere heavy with the anticipation of his response. Harry, caught off guard by the rawness of the question, searches your eyes for understanding.

Harry, caught off guard, furrows his brow defensively. "F’course, I do. Why would y’even think otherwise?"

His tone carries a mixture of hurt and frustration, an instinctive response to the implication that the love between you might be in question.

The room becomes charged with an anguished tension as you gather the courage to voice the unspoken concerns that have festered. "It's just... you've been acting so differently lately. There are these moments, these instances when you seem so distant. I can't help but feel like there's something you're not telling me."

Harry's defensive stance persists as he denies any wrongdoing.

"M’don't know what y’talking about. S’nothing going on," he insists, avoiding eye contact. The weight of his denial adds another layer to the unease in the room, leaving you to grapple with the growing chasm between you two.

The frustration builds, and you press further, "Harry, you can't just brush this off. It feels like you're hiding something, and I deserve to know what's going on."

The plea in your voice is met with a guarded expression from Harry, his defensive walls standing tall.

The room seems to tighten with each passing moment, the emotional stakes escalating.

"M’not hiding anything," Harry asserts, his voice tinged with exasperation. "Y’reading into things, making a big deal out f’nothing."

As the back-and-forth continues, a sense of despair settles in.

"Harry, I need honesty. We can't move forward if you keep shutting me out," you implore, the depth of your emotions exposed. Yet, his walls remain intact, and the elusive nature of the truth becomes a palpable barrier.

The echoes of their laughter from downstairs seem like distant memories now, drowned out by the intensity of the conversation unfolding.

"Just tell me, Harry. Tell me what's going on,the time you stopped me coming upstairs with you, the time you stopped me coming into the bedroom and had a go at me for wanting to go on your phone " you plead, your voice cracking under the weight of the unresolved tension.

The emotional exchange reaches a breaking point, leaving you on the floor, sobbing, desperate for answers. The weight of the uncertainty, the unspoken tensions, and the fear of losing the connection you once cherished overwhelm you. The room becomes a backdrop for your vulnerability, the walls echoing with the sound of your heartache.

Amidst your tears, you hear Harry sigh, and the rustle of a box catches your attention. He crouches down beside you, the heaviness in the air momentarily shifting.

"Look at m’please," he implores gently, his voice carrying a tone of sincerity that cuts through the emotional fog.

Hesitant, you raise your tear-stained eyes to meet his. His gaze holds a mixture of regret and determination, and he asks you to stand up. Every fiber of your being is hesitant, a cocktail of emotions bubbling beneath the surface. Reluctantly, you rise, uncertainty written all over your face.

As you stand, Harry, now on one knee, pulls out a small box. The room seems to hold its breath as he meets your gaze.

"V’been acting shifty because v’been planning this," he confesses, his voice soft yet earnest. "I wanted it t’be a surprise, but the timing... it just got all messed up."

"From the moment we met, m’life gained a sparkle that I never knew I needed. V’been m’confidante, m’partner in laughter, and the steady warmth that completes every corner of m’world. These past four years ‘ave been a journey f’growth, laughter, and endless love. Y’seen me at m’best and m’worst, yet y’loved m’unwaveringly."

He lets out a soft sigh. “Will y’make m’the happiest person in the world and say yes?"

Overwhelmed by the heartfelt speech and the flood of emotions, you fall into Harry's waiting arms, the warmth of his embrace grounding you in the reality of the moment. His arms wrap securely around you, and you find solace in the familiar comfort of his presence. With tears of joy streaming down your face, you look into his eyes, a silent affirmation of the love that binds you.

In a tender exchange, you press a loving kiss to his lips, the connection deepening as the weight of the proposal lifts from the room.

"Yes," you whisper against his lips, the word echoing with the promise of a shared future.

"Yes, Harry, a thousand times yes," you repeat, each affirmation punctuating the joy that now fills the space between you.

The room seems to shimmer with the shared happiness, and Harry holds you closer, his own eyes reflecting the relief and joy of the moment.

"I love you," he murmurs, the words a gentle reassurance that lingers in the air.

Harry tenderly tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch a gentle reassurance.

"M’sorry f’being so sneaky and, well, a bit harsh," he admits, sincerity coloring his gaze. "I just wanted the proposal t’be a surprise, but I guess v’already messed that up."

A light laugh escapes him, the sound a blend of amusement and relief. "Guess I couldn't keep it under wraps as well as I thought."

You join in the laughter, finding the humor in the unexpected twists of the evening.

"Well, surprise or not, it's the most wonderful thing that could have happened. I can't wait to be Mrs. Styles," you express, your eyes reflecting the genuine excitement that courses through you.

Harry's eyes soften with affection as he hears those words, and he leans in to press a sweet kiss to your forehead.

"M’can't wait either, m’love," he whispers, his voice carrying the promise of a shared future.

The room becomes a haven of shared laughter, love, and the promise of forever. Harry, still on one knee, takes your hand and delicately kisses the engagement ring.

"S’ring represents the love we've shared and the life we're about t’build together," he says, his words a poignant acknowledgment of the significance of the moment.

The room, once filled with questions and uncertainty, is now brimming with the certainty of love and the anticipation of a future together as Mr. and Mrs. Styles.

[shiftermia]

— Late night snacks

james potter x reader

platonic!peter pettigrew x reader

where james catches you and Peter in the kitchens

a/n: a certain someone (A) kept hounding me to write a James one so here it is out of the kindness of my heart. (I was held at gunpoint as I wrote this)

ALSO I DONT CARE! OUTSIDE OF CANON PETER IS A MARAUDER!!

Ever since becoming friends with the weird group known as the Marauders, you and Peter Pettigrew had grown close to each other.

Yes, the group of boys were close. And it was James and Sirius, and Peter and Remus, the duos within the group. The ones they went to when they had to get into groups of two.

But before you joined them, the other three boys had their own designated friend outside of the group of misfits.

James had Marlene, as they grew up in the same neighborhood. Remus had Lily as they were both smart enough to keep up with each other, and Sirius had Mary. Surprisingly, the two got along quite well.

When they weren’t hanging out with each other, they were hanging out with those girls.

But Peter didn’t have someone other than the boys. Often left to his own devices before James, the mum friend noticed the boy being left behind.

Till you started dating James, and Peter finally had a friend for himself. Someone to hang out with when the others were somewhere else.

You and him had more in common than you expected. Both not as smart as Remus in all subjects but enough to keep up. Both having to study unlike Sirius, and both having to pay attention to fully understand something unlike James.

Another thing you two had in common was your hunger in the middle of the night.

“Psst!” The boy called with his head poking out from his curtains. To no sign of movement, he called again louder, “psst!”

You pulled back James’s curtain revealing your bed head and James’ large form laying on top of you with his head tucked in your neck. “wormy, what?”

“Don’t what me, I’m hungry!” Peter said glancing at Remus’ bed, praying his werewolf ears wouldn’t catch your conversation.

You laughed and whispered loudly, “oh my Merlin! Me too!”

He laughed and pulled himself out of bed and slipped on his shoes, “I’ve been craving Moony Toast for the past hour!”

You let out a scoff and threw yourself back, a hand coming up to mess with James’s curls. “Ive been wanting some strawberries since 12, I just wish the kitchens weren’t so far!” You whined silently.

Peter waved his hand to you, already standing by the door and glancing at Remus’s bed again. “C’mon.”

You widened your eyes and gestured to the sleeping boy on top of you. “You want to help me with the big guy or what?”

He rolled your eyes at your sarcasm and lifted James’s top half enough so you could slide out from under him and gently laid him back down as to not wake him up.

“Okay, now let’s go.” You stated once you put your shoes on and grabbed your boyfriend’s jumper.

You and Peter went down the stairs in the corridor before you came to an abrupt stop. “Shite, what about the map?”

Peter just shook his head and kept walking, “I’m too hungry to find wherever Sirius put it this time.”

You shrugged and followed after him, both of you keeping an eye out for Filch and his dammed demon cat.

Meanwhile, James moved his arm presumably to lay under your his shirt but was left grasping at air.

He lifted his head and looked to his right, “poppet?” He grumbled with squinted eyes before reaching his hand out to grab his glasses.

James sat up and rubbed his eyes under his glasses and looked around the room. The bathroom door was open with the lights turned off, so you definitely weren’t in there.

His eyes landed on Peter’s bed, its curtains wide open with blankets askew.

He groaned and pulled his half naked form out from the warmth and reached down to grab one of his thrown shirts.

James got up and walked over to Sirius’ bed and reached under his bed to pull out the Marauders Map. “Where’re you now, poppet?” He spoke to himself.

“They’re in the kitchens.” Remus’ voice mumbled, head most likely stuffed in his pillow.

James sighed and grabbed his wand, muttering a small lumos, “and may I ask how you know that moony boy?”

“Both the bloody wankers can’t keep quiet, now please let me sleep in fucking peace.” He roughly sighed out and the sound of him yanking the covers was heard along with James’ mocking sound of surprise.

“What do y’know, Remus is right again.” He put on his shoes and quietly left the dorm to the kitchens where yours and Peter’s name moved around.

After, nearly dropping his wand and getting caught by the notorious demon cat. James tickled the pear portrait and was greeted with dim yellow lighting, Peter leaning against a counter and you kicking your feet from atop a stool.

You and Peter instantly both went quiet and let out a breath when you noticed it was James.

“Jamie! You scared the hell out of us!” You spoke before placing another chocolate covered strawberry in your mouth.

He raised his brow and lifted a muscular arm, “I scared you? You scared me!” He exclaimed before seeing Peter’s form slowly sticking something in his mouth.

“The bloody hell are you eating?” He asked Peter.

Peter swallowed and sat up a little bit, “Moony toast.”

“Moony Toast?” James questioned incredulously. “If Remus heard that he would throw a fit,” he stalked forward and leaned his arm over your smaller frame. “Think he did hear it,” he added as an after thought.

“Ugh, he heard?” Peter grunted taking a sip of whatever he had been drinking.

“I assume that’s how you found us?” You asked dipping a strawberry into the bowl of melted chocolate you had in front of you.

“Yeah, and this.” He lifted up the map and your head whipped towards Peter.

“I told you!”

His head shook, “where’d you even find it?!” He exclaimed, blonde hair falling slightly in his face.

James shrugged, “under Sirius’s bed.”

You glared at Peter and he squinted his eyes. “Whatever, not like it matters now.”

James turned to you when he felt you pressed a kiss to his jaw, “why didn’t you tell me where you went, sweet girl?” He gently ran a hand over your head, brushing back baby hairs.

Peter sat up, “I swallowed a bug,” he got up and waved back to you both, “see you two later.”

Once he left, you turned to James and messed with his hair, setting it to how you thought suited him best. “I didn’t want to wake you up.”

He set a hand on your waist while the other was pressed against the counter. “I don’t care, next time at least let me know.”

You nodded and wiped your strawberry filled fingers on a nearby napkin. “m’kay I will, promise.”

The face you made, made James lean down slightly a press a sweet kiss to your lips.

With a hum, he moved away, nose pressed to your cheek. He licked his lips, “tastes like strawberries.”

You chuckled and traced his face, “well I was eating chocolate covered strawberries.”

James hummed again and brought his hand up to the back of your head, “Huh, I didn’t taste chocolate, lemme..” he trailed off and kissed you again making you snicker in between kisses.

You leaned back slightly and the hand that was holding your head slipped to your waist. Even when distracted, James always made sure you would be safe.

“We should go,” you whispered, James hummed in agreement but didn’t make any move to stop kissing your sweet sweet lips anytime soon.

With you in his shirt and jumper enveloping your frame, messy hair and bright content eyes, and your hands cupping his face so so gently, in the way only you can achieve.

How could he ever be expected to stop?

[photmath]

Secret Santa | Trent Alexander-Arnold

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Female Reader

Summary: A Secret Santa exchange leads to a rekindling relationship.

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: BLOWJOB (18+), secret santa/christmas themes, situationship somewhat, cursing, idiots in love, soft trent

Note: I had massive brain fog and covid while writing a good chunk of this so sorry, also wanted to have it posted before christmas but when have I ever posted something on time. Happy Holidays and readings!

As the night winded down, the group of friends were already thinking about their next hangout, you just happened to be there as they begged you to join in on their Secret Santa exchange.

“Oh come on, it’d be an even number with you!” Sara chimes, you swigging the chilled drink in your hand.

“You don’t need an even number for Secret Santa,” you correct and the boys let out a tut.

“Just this once, there’s a budget,” Jude begs, his beady eyes widening. “It’s thirty bucks.”

You roll your eyes bashfully, “Okay, count me in then.”

Your eyes don’t mean to land on Trent but they do anyway. He’s tucked into the sofa next to Jude, his mouth covered with the red cup he has resting on his bottom lip. His locs stop just above his eyebrow, and the black hoodie he has on looks comforting. You two maintain eye contact until he looks down.

Ben gathers everyone’s emails before you and Sara head out for the night. You had rode with Sara, living in the same apartment complex, but she lags behind telling the others bye. You do the same, mumbling goodbyes and giving out sidehugs.

It had been a while since you hung out with them all at once again. After a year's worth of studies and the summer, you had kinda mingled away from the tight group of friends you were once a part of. It didn’t help that you and Trent had a huge fight that catalyzed you from stepping away from the group, and no one seemed to notice just how close you and Trent were for them to suspect it was because of him. He played a part in making you keep your distance, but you were also so much more busy than before. You had a demanding job while still having to manage your uni classes, so those late nights hanging out with them became scarce.

It was beginning to get chilly while you waited for Sara outside on the front patio. And just when you thought it was her stepping out of the front door, Trent came out and your shoulders sunk.

“So, you’re back,” he states, slipping the hood over his head and then shoving his fists into the jumper’s pocket.

You nod, “Yeah, looks like I got dragged into doing Secret Santa, sounds fun.”

“When are you leaving?” His voice is small, almost like he doesn’t want to know the answer but asks anyway.

Pulling your thin jacket tighter, you raise your hands, “Um, I’m waiting for Sara.”

“You aren’t gonna stay?”

“What do you mean?”

“The boys,” he points back into the apartment and scratches his head bleakly, “we’re having a sleepover. The other girls are staying, I mean if you want to.”

“Oh,” you say. You had heard about it but you definitely didn’t intend on staying over, not in their scary, germy apartment. Trent, Jude, Ben, and Aaron were great, but they desperately needed a deep clean. “Um, Sara isn’t staying though.”

He shakes his head, “Doesn’t mean you have to leave too.”

You narrow your eyes at him, he nonchalantly shrugs. “Would you be okay if I were to stay?”

He raises his hands up in surrender, “I’m just glad to see ya. It’s been a couple of months.”

“We saw each other last month.”

“We didn’t talk though,” Trent chirps, licking his bottom lip. “Come on, stay. Walk with me to my car, I have to get some blankets.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea, Trent?” you ask. It slips out of your mouth much more ominously than you intend.

He gives you a dubious look, “What? Think I can’t keep my hands to myself?”

“Trent!” you gasp. He grabs your arm and leads you down the stairs in front of his apartment. Your hand slips into the groove of his elbow, him locking your hand in place.

You two ended during the summer break, you deciding to put an end to the back and forth flings you both had going on. Sneaking around each other wasn’t hard to do, but denying you having feelings for him was. He didn’t feel the same, and wanted to keep what the two of you shared strictly between sex, but him singing songs in your ear while he’d be on the cusp of sleep, caressing your skin so tenderly afterward, and trying his best to cook breakfast for you in the morning or even late at night, it was hard not to fall in love with him. Especially when you would catch him across the room and he’d beam so brightly. He would be mid conversation with someone, but the moment he saw you, he was grinning ear to ear.

“I’m sure these blankets are really in your car,” you say sarcastically. There was always something in his car. It would be his way of sneaking you off for a quickie, but god were you in the mood to do that now? You couldn’t deny it, the idea of you sneaking off like old times did tug a heartstring but you couldn’t. Now was not the time to think with something other than your head.

Trent opens up the back seat of his car, revealing four neatly-rolled, holiday blankets, “Get your head out of the gutter, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, helping him grab two of them although he could carry all four. You hated just how nostalgic it felt to visit his car, his black Range Rover, its windows always fogged after the two of you stepped out of it. A part of you was glad that he didn’t try to do something while you were out here, but another part of you was…disappointed? Had he really moved on three months later? While you were left in sputtering sobs—

“Hey,” Trent calls out, his breath billowing out in front of him. He’s standing a couple of steps in front, looking back at you. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you muster and catch up to him, not realizing that you had stopped following him. The sound of his car locking rings through your ears as he wears a sincere smile while he waits. He lets you pass him to walk in front of him.

Sara is making her way down the stairs by the time you two arrive back, “Hey! Are you ready?”

“I changed my mind,” you smile meekly, “I think I’m going to stay.”

“Oh, okay!” Sara says, bringing you in for a hug. For a moment, you were glad of her agreeable personality because she wasn’t going to ask why you changed your mind and you weren’t sure what you’d say if she put you on the spot. You were staying because of friends, right? “I’ll see you in a week!”

Sara hugs Trent briefly and then the two of you make your way back upstairs quietly. Trent’s phone pings and you feel the buzz of your own phone in your pocket. The both of you pause to read the notification, an email from Ben with your Secret Santa assignments.

You raise an eyebrow at Trent as the both of you glance at each other. Unlocking your phone, you quickly find the email and open it, reading that you’re assigned Delilah. That should be easy, you knew her like the back of your hand.

“Who do you have?” he asks.

“It’s a secret.” Slipping your phone into your pocket, you peer up at him. He looks down at you with a smirk, his lips glistening from having just licked them. “Get chapstick or something.”

He chuckles, opening the door. Delilah and Ava are cuddled up on their sofa in their pajamas, their faces shocked but then quickly filled with excitement when they see you.

“You’re staying!” Ava cheers. The next movie they have lined up is How the Grinch Stole Christmas, a Christmas classic. And of course the only open two seats on the sofa is next to an unsuspecting Jude.

Trent hands out the blankets but keeps one to himself, plopping down in the spot next to you, unfolding it over the two of you. A part of you would’ve pushed away the blanket but even in your pajama pants you were cold.

“Thanks,” you mutter, ignoring the arm that lands over your shoulders. Trent was suddenly being a lot more vocal than he was earlier, maybe it was the confidence from the alcohol he had drank, but just two hours ago he had trouble looking at you.

It wasn’t awkward, but it was definitely a sudden switch. All it took was you almost leaving for him to chat with you like nothing happened.

Throughout the movie, you all laughed during the funny scenes, Jude nearly clutching onto you because of just how hilarious the Grinch was. Trent didn’t shy away from letting his arm fall and grasp your shoulder occasionally, but seriously, what was up with him? Earlier at his car it piqued you with interest to be talking to him, referencing the past, but now he seemed to be adamantly ignoring it.

Something sour bursts in your mouth as you shrug Trent’s arm off your shoulder, excusing yourself off the couch and to the guest restroom down the hall.

Trent’s bedroom was the only bedroom downstairs, planted right next to the guest restroom, so it shouldn’t have shocked you to see him in his bedroom with the door wide open, but still, it did. He was pulling his black hoodie over his head, left shirtless. Look away!

Trent catches your stare through the hallway and heat rushes to your cheeks in an instant. He smirks, kicking his door open wider and then slipping on a white tee. His red plaid pajama pants hang dangerously low.

You had to talk to him anyway, so you walked inside and closed the door.

“Hey,” he says, eyebrows raised, but his eyelids hood the closer you walk to him. A part of him knew you would come into his room.

“Can we talk?”

“Sure.” He sits down on the edge of the bed patting the spot next to him but you stay standing.

“We’re good…right?”

His eyebrows furrow, “What do you mean?”

“Okay,” you blow out a raspberry. “Last time we spoke, I told you I had feelings for you and then we argued, and then you pranced off. You basically said you didn’t feel the same and that we should stop, but during the movie you put your arm around me making me feel confused.”

“I can’t just rest my arm?”

Your jaw drops, you knew it was dumb. Knew it was haste. Knew that you didn’t really have something to talk about him. Maybe a part of you was still hurt from his rejection, hoping that he felt the same. That the months apart left him a dull ache, but here he was staring at you with those same serious—but blank—brown eyes that broke your heart months ago.

“Unbelievable,” you mumble and turn towards his door. His hand is on your wrist before you can even reach the exit.

“Wait.” Facing him, you pull your hand out of his grip. The seriousness from his eyes moments ago is gone, they seem on edge. “I’m sorry. I was joking, sorry. I—I’ve missed you.”

“Trent—”

“No, I’ve really missed you. I would’ve told you sooner but I thought you moved on.” The confusion is etched on your face that he continues, scrambling for words. “I saw Jack’s arm around you at our first football match and I thought you had moved on, or were trying to, so I didn’t want to come back and tell you that I felt the same way.”

“What?” you exasperate.

He licks his lips, briefly looking down, “I like you too. I know you probably don’t feel the same way anymore because it was months ago and that’s okay, but since we’re talking now, yeah…I like you.”

Trent’s nervousness practically seeped out of his pores. His voice seemed so fragile, his hands anxiously playing with his pajama strings. And his eyes were anywhere but on you. He was pouring out his heart in the most shy way he could, his way.

Another reason that drove the two of you away was him always keeping in his feelings. Even when it was just about sex, he didn’t communicate well. So for him to talk right now, you wanted nothing more than to throw your arms around him, heart swelling at him confessing his feelings.

But it had been months. Did you still feel the same for Trent? Your heart skipped a beat when you saw him, but you also hadn’t seen him that much so the distance mended your heart to some extent.

“Oh,” you say. “I really wish you said that earlier, wow, um—”

The more you search for words, the more you notice the sudden panic in Trent’s eyes grow.

“I don’t know if I feel the same,” you confess, pretending to ignore the droop of his shoulders. “We’ve been separated for so long that I don’t know if I still feel that…I’ve missed you too, a lot, so maybe I do. This sounds dumb but can you give me time?”

And who were you kidding? Because the moment he nods, you knew that you still had feelings for him. He was too patient for his own good.

“Of course,” he forces out a smile. You aren’t sure what to do at that moment so you hesitantly reach out for him and give him a hug. He tucks his head into the crook of your shoulder, pulling your body closer to his and then giving you a squeeze.

“Trent,” you squeal.

“Sorry,” he chuckles. “I’ve missed our hugs.”

“I missed them too.”

There's a brief moment the two of you share after you pull away from him. His hands are placed gently around your elbows, his head hanging down towards yours. Your nose bumps into his and he pulls away just barely and whispers, “Are you sure?”

You nod, “Yeah.” Trent places a chaste kiss on your lips, sighing through his nose like he’s granted some kind of relief.

His hands slip onto your waist, tugging you closer and you wrap your arms around his neck. He kisses your jaw and neck slowly, basking in the feel of your body pressed against him once again.

You aren’t shy to give his neck a kiss or two back, a rumbling laugh escaping his chest as you find his unusual tickle spot. His thumbs feel the sliver of skin where your shirt rode up, aimlessly rubbing circles, “We should head back.”

“We should,” you glance at him once more, planting a kiss on his cheek and then fumbling out of his bedroom. You can hear his laugh as you exit.

You sit back down next to Jude who still seems so engrossed into the movie, so he doesn’t bat an eye when Trent follows suit afterward. He fluffs the blanket over the two of you and keeps his hand lingering on your thigh. If you were stronger, you would’ve pushed it off, but you liked having his soothing touch on you again.

-

In the middle of the night, you stirred awake, shivering. The blanket you were wrapped in on the boy’s sofa wasn’t sufficient enough to keep you warm and you couldn’t bear another minute with your teeth chattering. Grumbling, you wrap the blanket around your body and tiptoe to Trent’s bedroom. He wouldn’t have minded, had basically whispered in your ear countless times to come sleep with him before you all went to bed.

As you open his bedroom door, you hear him shuffle around in his blankets, barely able to make out him rubbing his eyes while looking at you.

“I’m freezing,” you mutter, shutting his door. Trent understands immediately, doesn’t have to be told twice as he opens the blanket for you. It doesn’t take much for you to realize he’s shirtless, but you don’t care when you wrap your body around him and hold onto him like a koala.

“Your feet are cold,” he chuckles, his voice hoarse and throaty. “I missed you.”

“I know you did, now please finish tucking the blankets in and hold me.”

“Yes ma'am,” he mumbles. He makes sure you’re securely wrapped in the blanket and that there isn’t a pocket of space open somewhere. His arms slither around your back, and he presses a sleepy kiss to your forehead before shutting his eyes. “Night, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Trent.”

-

It takes you a couple of seconds to realize where you’re at in the morning, Trent’s white walls are a stark difference from your decorated covered walls. And his semi-hard dick pressed against your butt is certainly an unfamiliar feeling. Well, unfamiliar for only the past few months.

His hand is tucked tightly underneath your shirt, resting between the valley of your breasts. It was a position he resorted to all the time mid-sleep, and maybe you should’ve remembered that before crawling into his bed last night, but the shallow, labored breathing fanning across your neck lulled you back to sleep that your wind went fuzzy. All rational thoughts vanished.

Trent’s hips buckle up as he lets out a deep sigh, his dick only pressing further into you that you had to wake him up or separate. Gently, you slide his arm down, biting down your bottom lip as his hand brushes your nipple.

His eyes flutter open and he groans at the roll of your hips, “Stop moving.”

“You hurt,” you whisper.

“Yeah, you're hurting me,” he mumbles, pulling his hips back. He takes notice of his hand, sliding his hand out from underneath your shirt. “Fuck, sorry—”

“No, you’re hurting me, asshole,” you say at the same time. Trent’s cheeks are burning because he knows what position he was in, having always found himself in that same position every morning after being with you.

“I’m sorry,” he sits up, grumbling at the pain in his pants and embarrassment spreading to his face. He didn’t want to ruin the progress he had made, the two of you just sharing a kiss last night.

You sit up immediately with him, noticing the tension in his bare shoulders as he looks around his bedroom, debating his next move. You grasp his shoulder softly and he lets out a small gasp. “Hey, it’s okay. I was joking around. I’m not actually upset.”

Trent’s panicked eyes simmer down, “Okay.”

“Do you want to lay back down? It’s barely seven in the morning, I doubt the others are awake,” you continue, suddenly feeling nervous. You only started getting nervous in front of Trent after you caught feelings, before, you never had a problem poking jokes at him. You still had them, but they were much more tamed and timid.

He nods, letting out a shaky sigh as he gets back underneath the blankets. He crosses his arm, not daring to peer at you because he knows it wouldn’t help his ever growing erection. That burning hand you placed on his shoulders, sent him haywire for the thirty seconds it was on him.

And you hated the way you knew his body like the back of your hand. You knew how his long eyelashes would bat, his blown pupils, and why he bit onto his bottom lip almost drawing blood. The line of sweat that brimmed his forehead, his ragged breaths—god, you weren’t strong enough. It all went straight down to your core, making you squeeze your thighs a little tighter, and the second the bed dipped, Trent’s breath hitched.

“Do you,” you swallowed, “need help?”

Trent’s bare stomach caved in as he sighed, the bunched blanket barely stopping above the hemline of his pants. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he threw his crossed arms over his eyes, “Sweetheart, please don’t tease right now.”

What was once semi-hard was now raging and throbbing, way too rigid that even his breathing made him hurt. He felt your watchful eyes on him earlier, making him only grow harder as he tried to ignore it. Even if he were to scramble to his bathroom, it would hurt way too much that he would rather just sit and wait it out. But you were not making it easy, not when he could smell your shampoo still.

“I’m not teasing,” you say, voice a little louder laced with confidence.

Trent sucks his breath, “You’re cruel.”

You roll your eyes, “Do you want me to suck your dick or not?”

An eye peaks over his crossed arms, “Well when you put it like that—”

“And here I was trying to be nice and a little romantic.”

Trent chuckles as his arms flop down beside him, immediately grimacing as the force travels down, “Please just kiss me.”

He’s still facing the ceiling as he relinquished, eyes dancing around his bedroom and you. You stir beside him and he pouts. You snicker as you roll by his side, “So needy.” You press your lips on his pout and he’s immediately devouring you, slipping his tongue into your mouth as he grips your neck. Your hand barely had time to slide down the back of his neck. Meanwhile his other hand is gripping a fistful of your shirt.

You force your head back, out of breath, “Okay—”

Trent lets out another guttural groan, his eyes squeezing in frustration, “I’m really fucking hard right now, so if you’re playing around just tell me so I can blow this load myself.”

“I’m not playing around, you said to kiss you! I didn’t think fucking tongue!” you yell, almost wanting to laugh at your two’s situation. You were being a little slow on purpose but come on now, it was a little funny at just how much the tables were turned. On so many occasions, Trent decided to be a dickwad and tease the hell out of you, and you relished the few times you were able to tease him back.

His bottom lip jutted out again, almost by reflex, and the vein popping out of his forehead didn’t make your building laughter any more suppressed. His fisted grip on your shirt loosened as he stirred.

“Okay, okay, no foreplay,” you conclude, pecking his pouty lip and pulling down his blanket. His eyes bulge and he attempts to pick up his head but immediately slams it back down with an agonized groan.

Jesus.

You pull down his tented pajama pants to his ankles, not bothering to take them off completely, and then eye him through his black briefs. He was rock solid, a small, darker spot of precum encircling near his tip. And once you pull down his boxers, it springs out, hitting his stomach. The tip glistened with precum.

He lamented after he was finally out of those constricting boxers.

“Everyone is still sleeping out there,” you warn. He nods frantically, grabbing onto a piece of the blanket and biting onto it. His bedroom walls were thick but with the silence of the morning, noise was bound to travel.

You seriously wanted to tease him on just how desperate he was behaving right now, but you didn’t want to add more frustration than what he was already feeling.

With one stroke of Trent’s leaking arousal with your hand, it doesn’t take long for you to put him out of his misery with your mouth. His own precum lubricated much of himself that he didn’t need your spit, so you gingerly lick his tip as he lets out another groan as he grips the sheets.

Your tongue lapped around his tip as your hand stroked what couldn’t fit in your mouth. You could feel him practically swelling with each pump that it wasn’t going to take much longer to come.

His stomach caved in rapidly as you slowly sunk your head down on him. It had been a while and your teeth may have grazed him by accident as you adjusted to his size but he didn’t care. He was too much in a haze with the feel of your lips and tongue.

Once you found your rhythm, you bobbed your head faster, licking and sucking him off until tears welled in your eyes. His hands were immediately prying at your head and neck as his hips bucked, his tip nearly hitting the back of your throat.

“Fuck, I’m about—” Usually you’d back off and dump his seed onto his stomach but you decided not to this time, lapping up his shaft one more time before circling his tip with your tongue and then prodding the slit. He winced as his hand grew tighter around your shoulder, his other hand stifling the moan that threatened to come out.

Trent’s hips buckled once more and finally you felt the steamy ropes of his seed fall into and around your mouth, you were not fast enough to catch him entirely. Feeling his entire stomach grumble as he came, you caressed his thighs as you swallowed what you could. He handed you the small towel he had near his bed and you really would’ve cringed if the circumstances were different, but his room wasn’t necessarily tidy. There were a couple of shirts strewn on the floor and he did seem to have just recently washed towels since there was a pile of them on the floor next to his bed.

His breathing was heavy as he tried to calm himself down as you cleaned your chin and the remnants that dribbled down onto his stomach. And the second you pushed his briefs back on him, he sat up straight immediately, attacking your face with a hungry kiss. You giggled as you fell back, him landing on top with a chuckle as his hand gently slipped down your neck.

He pulled back, a wide grin on his face as his locs unstuck from his sweaty forehead, “I think I had blue balls.”

“You think? You came in like two seconds,” you laugh.

He shushes you, “Don’t say that so loud—”

“You were all whiny and couldn’t even get up!”

He rolls his eyes, his hair flopping with his exaggerated roll, “I knew you’d laugh.”

“I helped you, didn’t I?”

He rolls his eyes again, “Yeah, you did. Thank you, let me return the favor, yeah?”

“Hmmm,” you ponder. “Okay, go for it.”

He laughs, kissing you cheerfully. It doesn’t take long for you to be undressed and gripping onto his shoulders tightly with your thighs while his hand covers your mouth to stifle your moans.

-

Delilah taunts the group with her makeshift mistletoe, it hangs from the end of her long stick as she walks around. She had yet to stop on anyone—or pair rather—but you knew the moment you got up to get a drink from Trent she’d follow. And that’s exactly how you wound up in the position with everyone chanting, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

Your face radiates with heat as Trent smirks. You hid your nervous smile with your cup as Jude’s chant got louder. They crowd the kitchen, not daring to let up as the two of you get circled.

Trent nudges your hip with his, removing the cup from your face as his hand goes to your cheek and jaw. His eyes read yours briefly before dipping his head into a searing kiss. It wasn’t necessarily brief but it wasn’t long either as they erupt into a chorus of hoots and shocked gasps. Once he pulls away, he lets you bury your head into his chest, hugging you. His chest vibrates with his chuckle.

Your hands went through his unzipped brown fluffy sweater, head resting alongside the white sweater he wore. He looked so soft and comfy in the outfit, you had been dying to just give him a giant hug the moment you saw him.

He kisses your forehead tenderly, “You okay?”

“Mmhmm,” you mumble, releasing him. His gentle and attentive eyes almost make your knees buckle, so you don’t notice everyone staring at the two of you because it felt like it was just you and him. You chuckle, “Surprise?”

Trent’s grip falls from your shoulder to your waist, a simpering smile as he pulls you closer to his side.

“I knew it!” Aaron yells and Trent shakes his head. “You’re such a liar.”

“What?” Trent feigns.

“I always said it looked like her car was out there and you always said that I was wrong,” Aaron says, taking a swig of his drink. Trent chuckles from behind you, throwing his arm across your shoulders as he forces you to fall back into his grasp.

Jude narrows his eyes, “Fairs.”

The girls direct their questions at you all at once but you don’t understand a thing. Trent kisses your forehead once more before letting go to let you have your space with the girls.

Ben whistles to get everyone’s attention for the Secret Santa exchange so the only question you get to answer is Sara’s: “How could you not tell us?” You sit next to the girls while Trent plops down on the couch next to Jude and Aaron.

One by one you all go in a circle exchanging gifts, you starting first with Delilah. You had gotten her the paint-by-numbers kit that she wanted the longest and pink slippers. Delilah gifts Aaron headphones; Aaron gifts Sara a new jewelry box that Ava helped pick out; Sara gifts Jude sunglasses; and Jude gifts Ben a new pair of Adidas boots and a box full of rubbers. Everyone laughs and momentarily gapes at this box full of condoms that Jude filled all the way to the top.

Ben then gets up and grabs his gift for Ava. Ava unwraps her highly anticipated book that she spammed the group chat with to get her, marveling at it. She then hurls Trent his gift and he chuckles at the new sweater he now has. It’s a long white knitted sweater that he’d probably look adorable in and you can’t help but to beam at him from across the room. The Christmas tree’s lights produce a glimmer in his eyes that makes you swoon when he locks eyes with you.

You didn’t even notice that you were the last one to yet receive your gift from…Trent. It doesn’t take long for you to realize he’s all who’s left, but the thought of who had you escaped your mind because you were too busy fawning over everyone else’s gifts.

Trent saunters towards you, a neatly wrapped white box with a red ribbon tied in the center. He sits down onto the side of the couch and hovers over you. His warmth radiates onto you that the urge to take him back into his room to cuddle him is so strong, but the others were staring as they waited for you to open the box.

You tear off the wrapping paper and open the box, inside is a neatly folded pink hoodie. Just from the sheer size of it you can tell it’s thick and cozy.

“I know how you always get cold,” he whispers.

You smile brightly, cheeks feeling warm as you pull it out. Underneath it is fuzzy red socks and you gasp, “This is so cute, thank you!”

For whatever reason, as you look up at him your eyes are nearly filled with tears that you have to blink them away rapidly. He chuckles, bending down to kiss your smile. Needless to say, you had made up your mind. This man held your heart in the palm of his hands.

Meanwhile, Ben stuffs a handful of rubbers into Trent’s palm and he laughs as he drops them into your box.

“Way to be romantic,” you scold, peering up at him.

Trent bends down to be level with your ear, “Saying that when you had my dick in your mouth hours ago.”

You slap his jean-clad thigh, “Trent!”

He may have looked like a sweet cuddly bear in his outfit but he was anything but, especially when the night was still young.

----

Note: OKAY I promise I will steer away from friend groups in my next fic LOL.

[wileys-russo]

love love LOVE your mary & Delilah fics! was wondering if you could do one where little delilah is brought to a match and she sees mary interacting with young fans who are about her age and gets a little jealous and clingy because that’s HER MAMA

part of the a date to remember universe

my mama II m.earps x reader

"okay which one lilah? purple, black or green?" you questioned, holding up the choices and doing a little dance making your daughter giggle. "i wanna dress myself today please." she informed crossing her arms over her chest with a determined nod.

"okay baby. but its cold, so dress warm!" you chuckled, hanging the jumpers back up and moving to sit down. "no mummy, by myself!" she pointed to the door and hurried over, pushing at your legs.

"okay okay! god i thought i'd get a few more years before i got kicked out of your room, this hurts lilah." you gasped dramatically as she shoved you from her room, only met with a door slammed in your face.

"was that-" you turned around and nodded to your wife. "she wants to dress herself today." you informed with a chuckle, moving into your wifes waiting arms which wrapped around you.

"we've told her she isn't allowed to grow up right?" "nearly every day since was born my love, she just does not want to listen."

~

"delilah grace earps are you done now?" you called out with a sigh, leaning against the wall by her door which you'd tried to open several times only met with a yell and it pushed closed again, your daughter firmly stating she wasn't ready and you weren't allowed to see until she was.

mary had already been picked up as to not be late for warm ups and you shook your head as you checked the time again already knowing the two of you would be stuck in traffic and miss kick off if you didn't leave soon.

"okay lilah we have to go, i'm coming in." you warned, though before you could even grab the handle the door it flew open and a bundle of colour and blonde hair came tumbling out.

"do you like it!" your daughter beamed, bouncing happily as you bit your bottom lip taking in her choice of outfit.

she had on a pair of black and white light up custom trainers alessia had gotten her for her birthday, pale yellow nike joggers with a pair of green man united kit shorts over the top. on her top half she on a bright purple hoodie with an orange lionesses jersey that was far too big for her with toone on the back and a bright red man united beanie on her head, with its matching scarf tied around her hips like a makeshift belt.

"well...i'm not going to lose you in the crowd, thats for certain." you smiled, knowing no matter what you said or tried there wasn't a chance you'd be getting your daughter changed without a fight and missing the game.

"you don't wanna wear mama's jersey lilah?" you tried, knowing your wife would kick off and ella would be absolutely insufferable in your daughters current choice. "nope! aunty el was sad last time i saw her so i thought this would make her happy, cause you and mama always say orange is a happy colour!" she grinned and your heart melted.

the last time she had seen her favourite aunt and godmother was after a particularly rowdy team night out where both had wound up crashing the night at your place, mary their designated driver and apparently a key influence in just how many shots they'd downed which you'd told her off for afterwards.

the two had wound up crying crocodile tears as mary and you both disallowed them to see delilah, trying to remind it was hours after her bedtime and the two of them were very drunk. which had in turn woken your daughter who'd come to investigate, not understanding why she wasn't allowed to say hello to either of her favourite people.

mary had practically needed to sit on top of both your adopted daughters to stop them racing after you, reminding them over and over that your four year old didn't need to see them in their current intoxicated state and they could see her in the morning.

"we do say that don't we." you agreed with her words, shaking your head in amusement but giving in, not wanting to squash the independence you and mary were trying to instill in her.

"at least you listened about the cold and did lots of layers babe, now time to go!"

~

you sent polite smiles to the strange looks you received walking your daughter through old trafford, meeting up with marys mum and wordlessly shaking your head at her questioning stare as she scooped up her granddaughter and the three of you made your way to your seats.

normally marys siblings and father would be in attendance but all had fallen ill with a stomach bug so you laughed at the way your mother in law was so relieved to be surrounded by 'healthy non whinging human beings'.

"do you like my outfit nanna?" your daughter chirped for the third time in the hour as you waved to your wife who was very clearly looking around stressed that she'd not spotted you, sighing in relief once she had.

"don't ask!" you mouthed to her perplexed look toward your daughter stood up in your lap furiously waving her and her team mates down. "els!" you cupped your hands over your mouth to gain the midfielders attention as she began to walk off the pitch after warm ups.

maya heard you and grinned before tapping ellas shoulder and gesturing toward you as you spun delilah around to show her last name plastered on your daughters back as her face lit up and you laughed as she raced right over to jump on your wifes back and no doubt lay into her about it.

now delilah was older she'd become a different sort of handful to take to marys games. gone were the earmuffs, dummy and baby blanket she'd needed to settle previously, where she'd often sleep the whole way through happily budled up in someones arms.

nowadays as your mothers both liked to remind you two she was just like you and mary had been as kids, a little unstoppable bundle of energy who often required distraction or bribery of some sort to sit still for prolonged periods of time.

which is how you found yourself racing off midway through the first half to sort out some food, having left in such a rush you'd completely forgotten the bag of snacks and toys you normally carted along with you whenever you left the house with delilah in tow.

thankfully with her grandma more than happy to listen to her chatter and answer her millions of questions you made it through the entire match without a single issue.

the problems started when the game finished and julie had needed to rush off to get back to the family, catching mary quickly before ducking off and leaving you and delilah to patiently wait your turn.

it would seem patience today though was not on delilahs agenda.

"i wanna see mama now!" the girl whined, wriggling furiously to try and yank her hand out of your grip as you sighed and took a deep breath. "mama's just saying hi to some people first baby, thats part of her work!" you tried to explain, even offering her an ice cream as a last minute ditch to distract her but it was to no use.

not even alessia could capture her attention for more than a few minutes as your daughter grew more and more fussy and inpatient the more time passed.

"go! it'll be fine." you forced a smile toward your wifes team mates who'd all taken turns trying to distract delilah as the two of you stood in the tunnel, mary signing autographs and taking photos with a larger crowd than normal.

"wanna go kick a ball tiny?" millie offered in a last ditch effort and that seemed to work as your daughter nodded eagerly and latched onto the taller girls leg, her giggles echoing around as millie zoomed off back onto the pitch.

you kept her in sight as you followed after them, hanging on the sidelines and waving to a few fans who called out your name, mary glancing over apologetically as you sent her a smile and a nod assuring it was fine.

but that tiny lapse in attention was all it took for delilah to break away from millie, maya and ella, sprinting off toward mary who had her back turned and ignoring the older girls calls after her which gained your focus back toward them.

intercepting her you scooped delilah up into your arms and sat her on your hip. "no! i wanna see mama!” you winced as she smacked your chest a few times and pushed away ella who'd appeared to try and help, and you could tell from the wobble of her bottom lip that she was a few moments away from a meltdown.

"hey lilah, look at me please." you dropped to your knees and stood her on her feet, your hands on her shoulders stopping her from running off. "we don't hit people, okay? i know you're having some really big feelings and you miss mama but-" you started, yelping as your daughter suddenly scratched at your hand, racing away toward mary.

"delilah grace!" you called after her, mary looking up a second too late as her daughter barreled into her. "my mama! mine!" she snarled at a young girl who mary was trying to take a picture with as the keeper quickly picked her up and apologised to the fan and her dad right as delilah started to scream.

apologizing to the crowd still awaiting her attention mary hurried back toward you, the two of you falling into step as you made your way into the tunnel and down the hall toward the change rooms. "lilah baby-" you started as her screams turned into sobs and she buried her face in marys neck.

"no, get off!" the girl snapped again scratching your hand as you inhaled sharply and paused, catching your wifes eye who nodded in understanding as you stayed outside and she dissapeared into the change rooms to try and calm your daughter down.

"hey, you alright?" you glanced up to meet concerned blue eyes and nodded, exhaling deeply as the taller girl pulled you into a hug. "thanks less." you mumbled as she rubbed your back, assuring over and over that you were the best mum ever.

promising her you were okay but that you'd need a raincheck on dinner plans you all had tonight both her and ella gave you another long hug and headed off to see their families.

with another deep breath you headed into the change rooms, only a few of the girls remaining as you spotted mary by her cubby. you caught her eye again and raised an eyebrow as she nodded, your daughter still tightly wrapped around her.

"lilah what do we need to say to mummy please?" mary started quietly, bouncing her knee up and down gently to gain your daughters attention as she pulled her head out of marys neck.

"im very sorry for scratching and yelling mummy." the girl apologised softly, climbing off marys lap and moving into yours, warmth flooding your body as she hugged you tightly and you kissed the top of her head.

you melted even further as your daughter grabbed your hand, carefully kissing over where she'd scratched you before clambering right back into marys lap.

"i'll shower at home, or else little miss is gonna wind up soaked." mary chuckled, gesturing to the way your daughter clung onto her like a monkey, refusing to loosen her grip as you took your wifes bag for her and the three of you waved goodbye to the few girls left and headed for the carpark.

"mama in the back with me!" delilah ordered with a frown once you reached the car, mary having gained a lift with alessia this morning meaning she at least didn't need to drive herself back.

"okay baby, just this once." mary gave in clearly picking up that delilah was being abnormally clingy after seeing her interacting with other kids, something the two of you would need to speak with her about another time.

and for the rest of that night it was the same story, your daughter refusing not to have some part of her in contact with mary at all times. so much so that she'd stayed in the bathroom while your wife showered, insisting you sit with her as well as she held marys hand through the shower door making you smile in amusement.

"my mama." was all that seemed to be repeated, the possessiveness also something new but a conversation for another day as mary waved off your concerns, too thrilled with having your daughters full focus and attention all night.

"oh for god sakes." you'd chuckled later that night at the sight before you. your wife having spent an abnormal amount of time putting delilah to bed you'd wandered up to check in, only to find her dead asleep in the tiny single bed belonging to your daughter, long limbs hanging off the sides with delilah curled into her still very much so awake.

"sh! mama is very tired mummy." delilah warned as you entered the room. "you should be asleep little miss, not mama!" you reminded quietly as she gave you a cheeky smile looking far too much like her other mother and held up the book which was previously laid open on marys chest.

"one more story, please?"

[marikuchanxo]

Mistakes Are Better Fixed

Characters: Husband!Nanami Kento x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k~

CW: Angst, fluff, hurt reader, pet names.

Author's note: Hello! This is my first ever writing :). Please feel free to leave your opinion/recommendation after you read. Special thanks to @pseudowho who helped me writing it.

Fighting. A word that isn’t found in your relationship dictionary with your husband Nanami Kento. Most of the time you and him would have meaningful and calm conversations. Of course, like any couple, you would have some arguments here and there; due to different opinions or making important decisions. But this time, it isn’t like any before. 

It is Sunday afternoon, and you find yourself in an extremely heated fight with Nanami. Heck, you don’t even remember what got you both into this situation. Your heart is exhausted from all the arguing. “JUST LISTEN TO ME FOR ONCE!!” 

Nanami shouts at you with such a furious face that you have never seen on him before. You, on the other hand, petrified, and trapped between him and the wall facing your back. Your eyes swell up with tears facing the floor; you just can’t keep looking at him with such frightening features. Nanami immediately snaps out of his stance, seeing tears running down your flushed face. Those tears are the result of his own actions. Since day one of your marriage, he vowed and promised you that he would never do something that won’t be in your favour. And now he broke that promise.

“Sweetheart, I…” You don’t let him continue with his words as you take your crying self away from him to the bathroom. He follows you down the hallway, so you rush and lock yourself inside.

“Love, please open the door. Let me talk to you.” 

Nanami knocks on the door softly so as not to startle you anymore. On the other side of the door, you slide your back against it and cry your heart out. Sobs and whimpers are all he can hear from you, and his heart aches for each one of them. 

“I will be waiting for you outside.” He gently whispers to you from behind the door. Nanami slips himself to the ground, his face in his palms; ashamed of what he’s done.

After an hour or so, you get calmer and collected. Shivering from the cold floor beneath you, you pick up yourself to take a quick shower and get out of the bathroom. You have decided to leave afterwards to pick a quick bite and then spend the rest of the day at Shoko’s. Your tummy is rumbling with hunger already as you didn’t get the chance to make breakfast; you started your day with that heated fight. Great. At the same time, as Nanami hears the shower turning on, he sighs gladly that you are fine. He gets up, looking forward to making it up with you. When you are done and open up the door, you find your husband standing before you. Anticipation is all over his face, replacing the horror you witnessed before. He reaches out for your hand, speaking politely.

“Please, let me fix this..”

“Nanami, I need my space for the time being. I am going to Shoko. I don’t know when I will be back.”

You leave his hand hanging in the air, looking away as you are speaking. You head to your shared bedroom to change your clothes and head outside. Nanami realises that you are still mad at him, which you have every right to be, when you called him by his last name. In better circumstances, you call him Kento or Ken. His beloved wife is the only person he allows to call him by his first name, as an element of intimacy between the both of you. He surrenders to your decision to give you some needed space. 

As you change into comfy sweatpants and jumper, you text Shoko that you’re coming to her house. She welcomes you right away. It isn’t your first time to stay over; both of you consider your homes as each other's way before meeting Nanami. You comb and braid your long hair before heading out of the bedroom. You notice Nanami sitting on the couch, hands in his lap. He gets on his feet and his eyes shift to you when he senses your presence.

“I am leaving.” As you reach the door to leave, Nanami calls for you to stay but you don’t answer him.

The moment you get inside your car, texts start flooding your phone. You know it is your husband because you set this special ringtone for him.

Kento 💙: Sweetheart, please come back. I was out of my mind when I shouted at you, I shouldn’t have done that.

Kento 💙: I deeply apologise for my awful action.

Kento 💙: Please text me when you arrive at Shoko’s.

Kento 💙: Home isn’t the same without you here.

You check these messages from the notifications bar before you start driving. You are still not ready to talk to him. 

When you arrive at Shoko’s house and sees you, she senses your gloomy vibes. Asking if something is wrong, you immediately start crying. She brings you into her soothing hug, giving you all the time you need to calm down. When you start mentioning what happened, she is shocked that Nanami is the one who hurt you. Shoko knows how special you are to him that he wouldn’t ever be on the list of people who could do you harm. She tries to calm you as much as she can when her phone rings.

“It is Nanami.” Before she responds to his call, you try to muffle your sobs.

“Hey, Nanami. Yes, she is here. She is alright, don't worry. Umm, give me a second.” She mutes the call and tells you that he wants to talk to you. Shaking your head, you reject his request.

“I am sorry, Nanami, she doesn’t want to talk right now. Sure, no problem. Okay, bye.”

After that call, you go to the bathroom to freshen up while Shoko makes some hot tea. As you settle down and check your phone, you notice more texts from Nanami.

Kento 💙: Did you arrive at Shoko’s? Please let me know.

Kento 💙: Are you okay? Did you grab something to eat on the way? I know you skipped breakfast because of me.

Kento 💙: Darling, I miss you. Alot.

Again, you ignore his texts. You wish you could reply to him, but your heart is still grieving. 

When Shoko comes back with the tea, you feel a bit soothed. As a life-long friend, she knows that tea is always the solution for any problem you have. Taking your first sip, you tell her of what had happened in more detail, you apologise for barging in suddenly, and ask her if you can spend the night here. Shoko happily welcomes you again. Giving her a small grin, you thank her, feeling blessed for having such a great friend in your life. 

The night comes in, you just had dinner with Shoko. The TV is switched on some random channel, spending some quiet time with her. You haven't heard from your husband since the last texts he sent you. You find worry starts seeping to your heart, but your mind refuses to contact him. Suddenly, the doorbell rings. You look at Shoko as if asking are you waiting for someone? She shrugs No and goes to check the door anyway. As she opens it, Shoko finds Kento in front of her. He is not in his best looks as sadness appears to take a toll on him.

“Good evening, Shoko.”

“Hey, Nanami. Please come in.”

“Thank you. I won't be here for long. I just want to check on her.”

“Definitely.”

Shoko leaves Nanami with an assuring grin. She goes back to you in the living room to inform you of the visitor. 

“Nanami is here. He wants to check on you.”

“Didn’t he call and you told him I am okay? He knows I am spending the night here.”

“Dear, Nanami is your husband and he would do his absolute best to win you back and you know that. I haven’t seen you acting like this before towards him.”

“Because he never shouted at me before! Kento knows I have a traumatic past and I don’t want to go through it again.”

Uttered faintly, you bring your knees to your chest and hug yourself.

“I am not in a good state yet to see him, Shoko. I am sorry…”

Defeated, Shoko sighs and gives your back a soft pat. She understands what you mean but she wishes this quarrel would be resolved sooner than later. 

Kento hears footsteps coming to him, hoping they are yours. To his dismay, it is Shoko empty handed.

“I am sorry, Nanami. I tried my best but she is stubborn.”

“I understand. My apologies for coming this late at night. I shall get going.”

“Thanks, Nanami. Good night.”

With a sinking heart, Nanami retreats to your shared home. He knew you wouldn’t come back with him, but the last thing he wanted to see before going to sleep is his loving wife’s face. This is the first night he spends without you safe and sound in his arms.

“Rise and shine, Missy. Breakfast is ready.”

“Good morning to you too.” You reply in a raspy voice.

It is the next morning and Shoko bursts into the bedroom to wake you up. Sunshine flows through the curtains illuminating the whole area. You stretch out of the bed after a good night’s sleep; much better and recharged.

As you reach the kitchen table, you find delicious pastries from your favourite cafe. Cheddar and Turkey filled croissants, raspberry tarte and much more.

“Nanami passed by and brought them. You were still asleep and he didn’t want me to wake you up.”

Your cheeks turn pink at the mention of his name. You find yourself bashful and start missing him already.

“I think I will text him after I am done.” “You better do it, Mrs. Kento.”

“Shoko!!” She teases you with a wink.

True to your words, you grab your phone after finishing breakfast to thank Kento. Unlocking the phone, his texts are the first thing you notice.

Kento 💙: Good morning, sweetheart. I brought you your favourite breakfast. Please eat well.

Kento 💙: I miss you, so much. Home isn’t the same without you.

Kento 💙: I hope I can see you soon.

Your heart swells with love from his texts. You do miss him too, but a bit shy to tell him so. Taking a picture of the empty pastry boxes, you text him a “Thank you 💖” message. Kento immediately replies.

Kento 💙: I am glad you liked them. Have a good day, love.

Later on, you and Shoko decided to spend the day at the nearby park. The weather is warm and sunny; too good to be wasted. You pack some snacks, drinks, along with a light lunch. You also bring UNO, your favourite card game. As you both arrive at the park, you pick a good spot beside this big tree. The park is quiet today, it is Monday after all. The area surrounding you is full of greenery, pretty flowers flowing from the bushes, white butterflies dancing around them, and birds chirping on tree branches. You sigh in content, smiling at Shoko being grateful for making such a good decision. 

“I see you in a good mood.” Shoko smirks at you.

“That’s a fact, thankfully.” Grinning at Shoko, you take out the UNO pack to start playing with her. Time passes by when you are having a good time. After five matches, both of you get tired and hungry. It is almost five when you are unpacking your lunches. 

“Have you decided on anything?” Shoko asks as she takes a bite from her sandwich.

“I think I am going home tonight. I can’t leave Kento all this time by himself.”

“Ohhh, someone is homesick after all.” She teases you.

“I do miss him, Shoko. Whatever happens between us, it won’t stop me from loving him and fixing things together.”

“Alright, alright, Missy. Eat up while it is still fresh.”

You nod at her and start eating while you enjoy the scenery. After a while, your mind wanders, lost in thought about Kento. 

“Is something wrong?” Shoko asks as she is waving her hand, seeing you lost in thought.

“No, it is just that I haven’t heard from Kento since morning. I wonder if he is alright.” Worry starts showing on your face.

“Speaking of which, turn around to find out.” Shoko chuckles.

“What are you talking about, Shoko?” 

Confused, you do turn around to find your blonde husband from a distance walking towards you, in his beige suit and blue shirt, looking fine as always, hiding something behind his back. As he approaches with a soft smile, you get up on your feet to greet him. You hold your hands to your chest, your beating heart is dancing with happiness as he reaches you.

“Hello, darling.” Kento softly speaks as he caresses your cheek.

“Hello, Kento.” You reply blissfully, leaning into his touch.

“I brought you this. Please accept my apology.” 

From behind his back, he gives you a big bouquet of pretty white tulips, your favourite kind of flowers. 

“Oh my god, Kento. You really didn’t have to.” 

You joyfully receive them, holding them dearly in your embrace.

“That’s the least I can do to you, love. I would bring the whole world to you if I could.” 

He is glad that you accepted his apology. Sighing in content, as he holds your hand into his, he is sure of your answer when he asks, “Will you come home with me?” “Yes, Kento. Let’s go home together.”

Giggling to each other, you hear Shoko clapping at this happy ending.

“Well, well, well. The two love birds are finally back together.” 

Wiping her fake tears, you and Kento laugh at her sense of humour. Kento thanks her for taking care of you, and you give her a big hug for being such a great friend. You help her pack everything back, but this time, you are going back home with Kento.

[beenbaanbuun]

Can we please have more interactions between darling and yeosang 😭 they’re so cute wtf I love the whole addams matz universe so muuuuch! Like when they hang out while mommy and daddy are busy or when she’s cuddling him and he’s annoyed but not annoyed lol or even them eating snacks together

you can tell yeosang is fed up by the way he keeps sighing. the ears atop his head twitch every so often, and his tail keeps flicking in agitation. you can’t lie, you actually find it rather amusing, watching him so desperately try to keep his annoyance to a minimum as you play with the hem of his sweater. you wonder how far you can push him before the switch in his brain flips.

“cant you go and bother someone else?” he grumbles after you ‘accidentally’ scrape your nails against the bare skin of his side. it doesn’t tickle him like you hoped it would, but the irritated grumble you get from him is satisfying enough. you’re about to do it again when he slams his own hand down onto yours and shoots you a glare. “i’m serious! find someone else to annoy before you push me too far.”

you scoff as you let yourself relax fully on top of him. such a boring little mutt, you think as you snuggle the side of your face into his fuzzy jumper. at least he’s good to cuddle with, even if it doesn’t help you release all that mischievous energy that’s been building up inside of you since hongjoong and seonghwa left you to your devices first thing this morning. you could’ve really done with a little help from mommy and daddy to release it all, but since they’re both busy…

you groan into yeosang’s stomach, “who else am i supposed to annoy, hm? daddy is out and mommy told me not to disturb him for another—” you spare a glance at the clock, “—3 fucking hours? please, sangie! i’m going to die of boredom if you expect me to just lie here and do nothing…”

“at least i’ll get a little peace and quiet,” he jests, earning a glare from you. the look on your face only makes him grin, sharp canines glinting under the flames of the candlelit chandelier. it’s such a pretty smile for such a rude creature; you almost wish you could wipe it off of his equally pretty face. you hope the harsh slap to his shoulder with your free hand will do the trick.

“you’re mean, yeosang,” you grumble as you pull your other hand free from his grasp. it’s harder than it looks—damned werewolf and his weirdly muscular body—but you’re more determined than yeosang gives you credit for. sure, it hurts a little as you finally tug your fingers loose, but you still give a cheer of celebration, wiggling them in his face to antagonise him. “i’m sure seonghwa won’t appreciate it when i tell him just how mean you’ve been to me.”

the threat is empty and the both of you know that. seonghwa would turn you away if you rushed to him now. it’s hardly like it’s an emergency, and your lover is far too busy to deal with such trivial matters as yeosang teasing you a little. you wouldn’t get much more than a side-eye and a slap on the thigh before being sent on your way. of course you could wait until seonghwa is finished, but by then you’ll have probably forgotten the whole ‘i’m going to tell on you,’ schtick you have going on right now.

“be my guest, little lady,” yeosang smirks, hands lifting up in a gesture of surrender, “go have a chat with your precious mommy and see where that gets you. but don’t come crying to me when you get saddled with a punishment later, yeah?”

honestly, a punishment sounds nice right about now. something to get all this annoying energy out of you. it would tire you out, make you all floppy and docile like yeosang clearly wants you to be. you’re almost tempted to do as he says; to go and bother seonghwa until he gives you that familiar look that means you’re in deep trouble. maybe he’ll take care of you right there on his workbench…

although probably not. the greenhouse is a sacred space for seonghwa, not to be desecrated by any sort of sexual deviancy. sure, you might be slapped with a punishment, but you’d almost certainly be forced to wait for it. those three hours would be painful for both you and yeosang, and you’re not sure the wolf would put up with your anxious fidgeting for too long. he’d probably abandon you in the living room, taking himself up to his room to do whatever the fuck he does in there. you’d be left and anxious mess, waiting for a punishment that would take entirely too long to come.

you give a dejected sigh before relaxing against the werewolf once more. the low chuckle he gives you rumbles deep within his chest and you can’t help but press your ear against his rib cage in the hopes of hearing more of the pretty sound. a hand finds it way to your head, petting and stoking you as if you’re the pet in this situation. if you weren’t enjoying the feeling of his claws scraping against your scalp, you would’ve scoffed at him and moved away. it really does suck that he’s managed to learn all of your soft spots from all the hours spent watching you with seonghwa and hongjoong. he really does know how to make you submit.

“that’s it, pup,” he chuffs, “just relax for now. you can get all that energy fucked out of you later, hm?”

“yeosang!”

[pr33tylul]

Harry wondering where all his jumpers have been going only to find them in y/n’s closet flufffff pleaseeee

Harry x reader

Warnings: fluff I don’t think there’s anything else

Year: 3-7

“Y/n have you seen my-” the raven haired boy stopped in his tracks to see his beautiful girlfriend asleep on the bed with his black jumper on. Her wardrobe was open, her clothes were in a pile neatly folded and all his jumpers, hoodies and flannels were all hanged up nicely.

He laughed to himself, making his way over to the bed and laying behind her spooning her as she slept peacefully in his embrace.

“Harry?” Y/n murmured as she stirred awake turning around to face him “Hey princess. Sorry if I woke you.” he looked down at her, leaning down kissing her passionately. She smiled at him and sat up. “You look adorable wearing my jumper.” He smiled as she blushed. “Well they help me sleep at night, the smell of you makes me feel safe, makes me think that your right next to me.” Harry chuckled. “They don’t smell like you anymore” she finished. He kissed her again and looked down at her. “Do you want them to smell like me again?” Y/n nodded eagerly as she got up straight away and walked to her wardrobe. “I’ll help you take them back.”Harry again laughed and got up. “What’s so funny?” She said looking at him. “Nothing I just love you.” She smiled “I love you too”

A/N

I’ve not been posting for a while and I’m sorry about that. Things have been a bit rough. I should be posting a bit more now

[iwritefandomimagines]

CLUMSY — SPIDERMAN!ETHAN LANDRY

masterlist

pairing: spiderman!ethan landry x reader

description: he’s always been good at keeping the whole spidey secret from people. but you, you make him clumsy. with his words, his feelings, and his big old secret.

warnings: swearing, injury mentions, scream plot simply doesn’t exist so he has loving non-murdery parents !

author’s note: i’m such a fuckin sucker for spiderman coded characters and have been reading every spidey!ethan fic on this hellscape for the past few days to get me out of my writing rut. i hope u enjoy!

“You’re here? Like, right now?”

The panic in his expression makes you feel absolutely ridiculous, and you almost drop the pizza box in your hand from the sudden insecurity.

“I— Shit, sorry I should’ve asked,” your voice came out sort of like a squeak, only swamping you with more embarrassment, “Your mum let me in and—,”

“No, no, it’s fine,” his voice sounds like it is very much not fine, and he seems to realise this as he chokes out a cough before continuing, “Gimme like, two minutes and you can come up. I just showered so I’m like, not dressed. Ah!”

You hear a thud both through the phone and through the ceiling, and you fight the urge to run upstairs in a panic as an exasperated gasp is emitted through the phone.

“Sounds like you’re— uh, having difficulty getting dressed?” you bite your lip, and you hear a strained chuckle from him, “I’ll leave you to it. If you’re sure I’m good to be here I’ll just wait with your mum. Text when it’s, uh, safe.”

He hums in agreement and hangs up without another word.

“Is everything alright, honey?” his mum asks softly, hands on her hips as she leans into the hallway from the lounge, “You can go on up! Your pizza will get cold otherwise.”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you tremble, “He said he’s just getting dressed from his shower, so I’m giving him a sec.”

Her face twists in confusion, but she resumes her smile almost immediately, “Right, okay. Well have fun sweetie. Not too much though!”

She had suspected something was going on between you ever since Ethan had started spontaneously disappearing and then coming back with the excuse that he was at your house.

Of course, he often was — but on the flip side of that what she didn’t know was that he would often frantically leave your house with the excuse that she wanted him home, like, immediately.

The key factor in this was that you were both completely unaware of his entire second identity as a masked fucking superhero (one who you, rather embarrassingly if you did know, had made it very clear you had a crush on).

“Of, uh, of course not Mrs Landry!”

As if to save you from the sudden awkwardness, your phone pinged with a text from Ethan to say you were safe to go upstairs now.

You waved his mum goodbye and darted upstairs — three knocks of the door later it was swung open to reveal a breathless, sweaty Ethan in a backwards sweater.

“Dude, you realise your sweater is on backwards, yeah?”

Fuck! He was an idiot!

“Sorry, that’s what I get for rushing to get ready, huh,” he turned away as he pulled his arms from the sleeves of his jumper and turned it to the right way round, trying to hide the blush that had flushed his cheeks, “You brought pizza! Amazing! I’m starving.”

He practically snatched the box from your hands, plonking himself down on his bed as he pulled the box open and groaned in delight at the food on his lap.

“You’re being weird.”

“Weird? What? I’m fine—,”

“And you’re pretty drenched in sweat for someone who just showered, Eth,” you sighed, crossing your arms over your chest, “Is there a girl in here— oh my god I’ve just interrupted you haven’t I? I should—,”

“No, no!” he cried out, tossing the pizza box aside, just a little disheartened by the fact you seemed more embarrassed than upset at the fact he might be fucking someone else, “I’m not! I wasn’t! Of course not!”

“Are you sure?” you hummed suspiciously, noticing that his wardrobe was slightly ajar, “She’s not, like, in here—,”

You yanked open his wardrobe, more than aware that there would be nobody in there but hoping to tease him a little more into being honest about why he was dripping with sweat and completely on edge right now.

He would’ve told you if he was seeing someone, you were sure of it. And you knew when he was lying. Usually.

What you didn’t expect was for a fucking Spider-man mask to fall from a high shelf into the wardrobe and land atop his curls as he darted towards you to stop you.

“You—I—,” he didn’t know what to say now as he pulled the mask from his head and gripped it hard in his hands, “Fuck!”

Your heart leapt to your throat as it sunk in what was happening right now.

Ethan — your Ethan, your best friend in the world (who you like, totally didn’t have a huge crush on or anything), the Ethan who couldn’t talk to other girls or speak above a whisper in new company — was your friendly neighbourhood Spider-man?

“Dude what the fuck?!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you… I didn’t know how to,” he looked as thought he might cry as he discarded the mask and reached out to grab your forearms and force you to make eye contact, “And it was too dangerous— if you knew— I don’t want you to get hurt because of me, Y/N.”

You shook your head, completely flabbergasted as you took the mask from him, “I can’t believe this… And— does anyone else know?”

It was his turn to shake his head now, “Nobody. It’s safer that way. Some of these people, they—,” he paused, “if they knew who I cared about, they’d use it against me. And I can’t let you get hurt, Y/N. Especially not you.”

Your hands flew up to his face as you watched him tremble, and you suddenly felt guilty for finding out.

You rubbed at his cheekbones with your thumbs soothingly, “Eth—It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m okay.”

He bit his lip, his eyes flittering across your whole face as he tried to calm himself down, “It’s— I didn’t want you to find out. Especially not like this. I don’t want you to worry, and I’m gonna—I’m gonna worry about you.”

You shook your head, “I don’t even know what to say except that I hate the idea of you carrying this huge secret around all alone. And the danger… I can’t imagine what I’d do if you got hurt.”

His hands lifted to rest atop yours now, pulling them down and close to his chest, “It’s okay, I promise. I don’t want you having to carry my secret around either. I care about you too much.”

“Ethan…” you squeezed his hands tightly, blinking away tears.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. And I’m sorry you found out like this, and—,”

You shook your head again, eyes glimmering up at him, “Don’t apologise. I’m not mad, I’m just scared. I love you, I don’t want anything to happen to you. And you’re— you’re Spiderman. What the actual fuck.”

“Wait, wait, back up— you— love— you love me?” Ethan gulped, and you chuckled lightheartedly as you felt yourself getting lightheaded at your accidental confession.

“Looks like we’re both letting out secrets tonight, huh?”

You were crying now, unsure if it was down to the fact you’d just told your best friend that you loved him or that you were processing his whole second identity, or more likely an amalgamation of the two.

“I—,”

“You don’t have to say it back, Eth,” you shrugged as he released your hands to wipe a tear from your cheeks, “It’s okay. I promise.”

It was his turn to shake his head at you now, “No! I’m just scared to say it because if I do, then it’s real. And if it’s real, then you’re more in danger than I ever imagined.”

You bit your lip — unable to argue with his reasoning.

“I love you, Y/N, I do,” his eyes were welling up now too, “That’s why I’m so terrified, ‘cause if anyone finds out about you then you’re in more danger. Some of these guys would go to any lengths to hurt the people I love.”

You grabbed his hands again, “But that’s not your burden to hold by yourself, Eth. I won’t tell anyone, I won’t make it obvious I know, I’ll just pretend things are normal. Besides, nobody knows your identity anyway, do they?”

“No, but it’s a risk,” he sighed.

You shrugged, “But I’d still be a potential target whether you love me or not. We’re best friends, obviously you care about me.”

He pulled you into a hug now, kissing the top of your head and holding you tightly to his chest, “I—I guess you’re right.”

“And you shouldn’t have to carry this secret on your own, without being able to talk to anyone,” you whispered against his chest.

He let out a sigh that almost sounded relieved, “Thank you, Y/N. I really don’t deserve you. As a best friend or-or that you love me.”

You laughed lightly, kissing the space below his collarbone where your face was rested.

He hummed in response, pulling back to really look at you now as you responded, “Don’t be silly, Eth. You deserve the world, alright?”

He leaned down so that your noses were practically touching, his eyes twinkling as you leaned in to him.

You felt his tongue swipe over his bottom lip for a brief moment before his lips met yours gently.

You leaned further into the kiss, hands lifting up to tangle in his curls as he smiled at your reciprocation.

Despite you having confessed to him first, he still couldn’t believe what was happening.

“Can I tell you another secret?” you giggled, giddy as you pulled back from the kiss and saw Ethan’s brows furrowed in confusion, “Uh… Yeah?”

“I’ve always had a crush on Spiderman anyway,” you sing-songed.

He rolled his eyes, but the crimson blush on his cheeks was clearly visible, “You did, huh?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, “The suit, the saving people, the idea of patching up his—your— injuries and like— I don’t know, it’s weird.”

“No, no,” Ethan smiled, “As long as you don’t like him more than you like me.”

“Are you forgetting that he is you?” you laughed, fingers still caressing his curls.

His hands rested on your waist as he smiled amusedly, the pad of his thumbs rubbing over your hipbones, “You didn’t know that though!”

“I obviously still like you more, don’t worry,” you teased, “My dream man would be, like, you in a Spidey suit, so I suppose I’m in luck.”

“I guess you kinda are,” he kissed the corner of your lip quickly, and you smiled so sweetly that he could almost anticipate your next question.

“Can—,”

“I’m not putting the suit on on for you until you’ve let me take you on a date,” he smirked, pleased with himself and his newfound confidence.

You kissed him quickly again now too, still dizzy with excitement at being this close to him, “You drive a hard bargain, Landry. Besides, the pizza’s probably cold by now. Let’s go get something to eat?”

He laughed heartily at your eagerness, briefly releasing your waist to pick up the discarded mask and toss it back into the wardrobe and beginning to dig through his clothes.

“Can I just change? The panic outfit doesn’t exactly scream romantic date.”

You laughed, and now it was your turn to blush crimson as you looked down at your own outfit.

You fumbled with the zip of your hoodie, pulling it down to reveal an oversized Spiderman shirt you’d bought as a joke from an NYC market stall.

“I didn’t—, oh my god this is so embarrassing.”

“Oh wow, I have merch now?”

“Mhm, 15 dollars,” you giggled, “Maybe let’s just stay in and eat the cold pizza? We can go on a proper date another night.”

He nodded, fingers tracing over the badly sketched drawing of himself on your chest as you bit your lip.

“Can I borrow one of your shirts? This is literally so embarrassing now.”

“Of course,” he replied, but smirked as he pulled you close, “But to be honest, seeing you in that shirt is kinda hot.”

“Suddenly he loves me being a Spidey fan, huh?” you teased, kissing him as you discarded your hoodie entirely.

He smirked wider again, before holding you in a kiss for a few moments until he pulled back and stared at you in absolute awe.

“Maybe it has its perks.”

———

thank you so much for reading !!! this has been almost finished for soooo long & i finally got it done. i hope you enjoyed <3

here is my masterlist, feel free to request if there’s anything you’d like to read from me x

[sim0nril3y]

Revenge

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: I'm sorry for this one, but just a silly little imagine after writing that angst. So, after smacking Simon's bum playfully he decides to find his own revenge which spirals chaotically. Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), playful spanking, oral (f receiving), orgasm denial, canon-typical swearing.

What was he going to prepare for dinner tonight? Simon was standing looking into the vast emptiness of the fridge, the empty shelves mocked him, the lonely jar of marmite smirked and jested whilst he stood there arms crossed, stance wide as if he was going to tackle the appliance any moment to try and find its secrets and hidden compartments.

From behind he heard you shuffling into the kitchen, placing down your long finished mug of tea and approaching him slowly. “Love-” Whack~ A rouge hand struck his butt making him jolt a little in surprise. It hadn’t hurt. The act alone had just shocked him into a stunned silence. From behind you cackled laughing, especially as he turned slowly to finally face you. “What?” You snickered, covering your mouth with your hand.

Those dark eyes of his narrowed, looking at you with a calculative glare, jaw set and muscles wound tight. “There’s nothing in the fridge.” He continued his long abandoned sentence before his rear had been struck. “I’m gonna order a take-away.” He bit out, before stepping around you. Realistically the only thing left on Simon’s mind was revenge.

It was a few evenings later after a steamy showered before bed when you were hanging up some clothes into the cupboard you shared. Now, shared was probably a loose term when it came to the cupboard, as a good portion of it was made up of your pretty dresses, skirts, trousers, blouses and jumpers a whole cascade of shoes beneath. Then shoved to the side was a measly bit of space for Simon’s clothing.

Thwhack! A sudden strike on your own rear sent you whole body hurdling forward into the cupboard, body pressed and clinging to the hanging clothes to keep your unbalanced body upright. “Ow!” You yelped; your voice muffled between the clothes. Turning your face and seeing Simon looming behind you, arms crossed and proud smirk on his face. “What the fuck?” You squeaked. “Just a little payback, love.”

As you leant there, your eyes widened. “For bloody what?!” You huffed, trying to push yourself up. “For smacking your bum like a week ago?!” You growled. “I didn’t send you headfirst into the fridge, Simon and I certainly didn’t smack you that hard…” You vented and this only caused him to chuckle. “It wasn’t that hard-” “It wasn’t soft either. I bet it’ll bruise…”

“Let me check.” The words came out quick and before you knew it Simon was tugging down your leggings and knickers to inspect your rear. “Simon!” You squeaked from inside the cupboard still, hands clinging to the fabric of your clothes, creasing them beneath your clenched fingers. “Simon…” You whimpered softly as you felt him kneel behind you, carefully taking the globes of your arse into his hands and stroking them softly. “You’ll be fine, love…” Simon mentioned, carefully pulling them apart, squeezing them, stroking them before placing a few stray kisses to the struck skin. “Want me to make it up to you, babe?”

From inside the cupboard you nodded, whimpering out a soft. “Yes, please.” “So polite…” Simon murmured, pulling carefully on your hips so that your arse stuck out a little further, placing a few kisses to the backs of your thighs, higher and higher causing you to squeak as his face dipped forward to find your soaked cunt, all pretty and leaking for him. “Fuck…” He growled, wanting to start slow and build up but simply unable to hold back as he got a taste of your wonderful juices. They were addictive to him. Once the first drop touched his tongue Simon craved more and more.

From where you were leaning awkwardly into the closet you could simply only cling to your clothes and accept the laps and presses of his tongue and mouth, moaning loudly as his hand slipped around your body to find your clit, massaging it beneath his fingers in tight circles. “Simon~ Simon~ Ohgod~” You cried in pleasure; it was like the air was thick as his hand smacked down playfully against your arse. “Please. Please. Fuck~”

The cry of his name only spurred him on more. Burying his face into your wonting cunt, growling and grunting as he sort to find your end. “There. There. Don’tstop. Don’t stop.” You panted, your body trembling as your end built and built. A second later Simon tugged away, smacking his hand against your rear and causing you to yelp in surprise. “Si, please. Please. Please… I’m sorry. I’m sorry for smacking your bum. I’m sorry. Please.” Without even having to press you for some sort of apology for your day old lapse in judgement you gifted him one, over and over. God, it was difficult to decide what sounded more pretty your beautiful moans or the sound of you succumbing to his will.

“Good girl. Good girl.” Simon smirked, spitting on your cunt and fucking a few fingers into your cunt, shunting the thick digits deep to find your special spot. “You won’t do it again, will you?” “Never. Neveragain. Never. Never.” You chanted, squirming as your knees knocked together from the sudden invasion. “Never. Promise. Pro-aghg…” The final promise caught in your throat your juices soaked his hand, something which Simon would happily clean up.

“There’s my good girl.” Simon chuckled. “There we go…” He coaxed, rubbing your lower back soothingly to coax you through the overwhelming waves of your orgasm. “Good girl. My good fucking girl-”

Now, if he had been able to hear over the sound of your panting and crying out and moans then he probably could have heard an ominous noise from within the cupboard, however that hadn’t been the case and instead was startled when the beam holding up hangers of clothes up cracked from having you probably hanging off it too as you clung to the clothes. It sent you toppling to the ground, clothes burying you on top of the shoes that lay at the bottom.

For a moment he knelt there completely taken back by your half naked body sticking from the cupboard under all that mess, then he acted and quickly tugged it all out of the way, finding your body beneath. “You okay, babe?” He asked quickly. “I’m so bloody good.” You whimpered; face completely dazed with lust.

Masterlist | Ask | 13-04-2024

[f10werfae]

Barefoot and Pregnant

pairing: Lumberjack!Henry Cavill x Shy!Pregnant!Wife!reader

summary: Henry and his cockdrunk wife go through an emotional love-making experience, after being pressured by her friends to give her husband a ‘hall pass’ because of her growing body (DILF!Henry) (Dom!Henry)

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated🫶 Disclaimer 18+

Lumberjack Masterlist, Henry Masterlist, Full Masterlist

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Baby bun? Why are you cryin’? Is there somethin’ wrong with our miracle?” Henry rushed placing both of his hands onto his precious wife’s four month bump: he had come home to see her sobbing her eyes out into her pregnancy pillow. “I-I have your b-birthday present, h-here” She cried handing him a crumpled piece of paper, “A fuckin hall pass? The fahk do I need this for?”

- A few hours ago -

“So Y/n, I know your man’s birthday is coming up soon, what are ya getting him?” Chloe smirked putting down her beer, she wasn’t really someone Y/n would hangout with, but considering she was friends with Stephanie it was kind of obligatory. Y/n shuffled uncomfortably as all eyes panned to her, this brunch with her girls had taken a weird turn, with them questioning her sex life and very clearly overstepping private boundaries. Y/n on the other hand was adamant that she would spill nothing, ultimately leading to the other women becoming increasingly annoyed.

“U-Uh I was t-thinkin’ of givin’ him the s-sweater I made him, a-and cookin’ him a m-meal” She whispered, pouting when she heard the others giggling and scoffing at her gift idea, her hand falling to her baby bump for comfort. Her little gemstone always had her back. Henry always loved her knitted goods, in fact most of his jumpers were ones she had made, and he never left home without a packed lunch from his woman.

“Girl, just cause you’re preggers doesn’t mean you can’t spoil him! Get him somethin’ better than some lousy knitted shit” Jenny giggled nudging Chloe playfully; Y/n’s hands now started to tremble, she had finally gotten used to nothing but praise thanks to Henry, but now that she was back in this toxic environment she could feel her anxiety start to swirl at the pit of her stomach. She wanted her Henry, and she wanted him now.

“B-but he usually likes m-my meals and h-he asked for a j-jumper” She whispered pursing her lips and clasping her hands together over her stomach, the lemonade she ordered now tasting like absolute poison on her tongue. “Why don’t you get him like a subscription to beer or somethin-“

“OR A HALL PASS? Omg a hall pass would be so good, because you’re obviously pregnant you should give him one, poor guy will need it” Chloe snickered interrupting Stephanie, “A-a hall pass? Whats t-that?” Y/n questioned tilting her head to the side like an adorable puppy, her hand softly rubbing over her stomach, her little miracle’s kicks following her hands every move.

“Basically girl, now that you’re pregnant, every man finds it harder to fuck his wife; let’s be honest it’s a very natural thing. A hall pass is like giving him a ‘get out of jail card’ like letting him fuck someone else for a night or something” She explained placing another chip into her mouth, as if she wasn’t just excusing cheating on Y/n. “B-But I don’t want him t-to” The smaller woman sniffled feeling tears already start to collect in her eyes, did Henry really find her unattractive now that her body was changing?

“I mean come on, are you really going to give him a lousy sweater? Here if it makes you uncomfortable for him to fuck someone else, I’m single!” Chloe joked motioning her hands to pretend she was sucking someone off, the rest of the girls giggling along with her, except for Stephanie who was disgusted by the whole exchange. If anything she was the only friend Y/n really enjoyed hanging out with, and the only friend Henry trusted her with.

“You guys need to knock it off and stop being disgusting shits, come on Y/n Henry texted me to get your somethin’ from the pharmacy” Stephanie grunted pulling Y/n up from her seat, scowling when Chloe tucked in a napkin into Y/n’s purse that said “Hall pass” followed by her own phone number. A poor sniffling Y/n, felt her own emotions starting to shuffle all over the place, her hormones truly had her. With her hand tightly clasped in Stephanie’s the both of them got into her car, when she finally let out a massive sob, wrecking through her smaller body; Stephanie reaching over giving her hugs and whispers to calm her down.

“I-I D-Do you t-think h-he should get a H-hall pass?” Y/n questioned wiping her eyes and nose onto a hankie, her hands smoothing over her stomach, her baby must have realised she was upset; the little thing was wriggling around like crazy almost as if it was trying to provide its momma comfort. “I mean I was gonna suggest beer or a razor, Chloe is just a bitch and insanely jealous because you two are an absolute power couple. Plus it’s not exactly a secret how much Henry is in love with ya” Stephanie smiled booping her on the nose, sighing in relief at the sight of a smile on Y/n’s face.

“B-but maybe he does find me u-ugly now, h-he even offered to shave me down there” She pouted looking down, “Girl he did it because he wanted you to feel more comfortable, you’ve always been the trim typa woman”

“I guess so, s-so what do we need at the pharmacy?”

“Nothin’ I jus’ wanted outta there, Ya sure you’ll be alright girl?”

“Y-yeah H-hen gets home soon a-anyway” After seeing Stephanie go off, Y/n bolted for the bedroom, even after all the comforting words from her friend; she still couldn’t help but feel unwanted and ugly. Would Henry find her pretty again if she let him fuck Chloe? Fuck, just the thought of it haunted Y/n’s thoughts, her man had always told her that he was only for her, and that she was only for him. There is no Chloe in the equation.

- Back To Present -

“A fuckin hall pass? The fahk do I need this for?”

Henry growled holding the napkin and seeing some random number beside it. “I-I” Y/n couldn’t even get words out without sobs shaking her whole body, leading Henry to pull her onto his lap as he sat against the headboard, one hand cupping her face gently while the other cupped his baby miracle. “Calm down sweetpea, tell daddy what happened to your n’ our miracle today”

“W-well we all went t-to that cafe b-by the s-square” She stopped, crying again

“S’okay sugar pie, breathe with me, m’right here and m’not lettin’ ya go” He whispered kissing her cheek softly, the hand one her stomach sneaking around and grabbing a cheek full of ass, making her squeak and gasp. “C-Chloe said t-that because i-i’m pregnant, you wouldn’t find-find me pretty a-anymore, a-and that I should l-let ya b-be with her for a-a night” She explained nuzzling into his palm, his thumb running over her cheek affectionately.

“Are ya fuckin’ crazy, you are the g’damn sexiest thing on this planet sweetpea, my sweet gorgeous wife. You’re takin’ care of our little baby in there, how could ya not be more beautiful? Ya shoulda jus told them we still fuck every night like rabbits-“

“Stoppp, s’embarrassing, b-but then why’d you offer t-to help me shave?”

“Cause baby bun, I know you’re not a grower, n’ I had an idea for ya”

“o-oh I see” She said now realising that her thoughts were jus messin’ with her, “I get so worried cus a forget how fast ya mind is runnin’, ya gotta keep me in the loop sugar, cause you’re mine” He explained leaning in and kissing her wet lips, his hands grasping her waist, kneading her skin.

“I-I know, m’sorry, she j-jus really freaked m-me out. C-cause you’re m-mine and I don’t w-want ya l-lookin’ at anyone else” She explained, Henry smirking at her shy nature, the way she shuffled closer ok his lap, her arms clasping around his neck. “Now ya understand how I get baby, we just need each other n’ no one else” He said lowly, his lips pulled up into an almost eerie smile, as he then stood up from the bed and walked them both towards the bathroom.

Nodding at his words she giggled at the cold feeling of the bathroom counter underneath her thighs, just letting her wild man of a husband rip off her underwear, his electric trimmer already laid out on the side. “W-what was your i-idea?” Her hips bucked as his fingers rubbed her clit slightly before turning on the trimmer, if her stomach wasn’t already huge she would have looked herself. “You’ll see baby bun, jus ta remind ya, of me” He laughed skilfully moving the trimmer around, with Y/n giggling every time he leant forward and kissed her inner thighs or her stomach, he just could not keep his hands off her.

“W-will you help me, r-rinse off after?” With her lips puckered out waiting for a kiss, Henry stood up, letting her suck on his tongue for a few seconds before pulling away teasingly: he had already planned on rinsing her off himself anyway. Lifting her onto the shower bench, he rinsed off her freshly shaven pussy, clearly proud at the thing he had engraved onto her nestle of curls. The letter ‘H’

“What ya think baby, are ya mine or what?” He sang snapping a picture of her pussy and showing it to her, it wasn’t unusual that during sex he would simply take pictures of him leaking out of her, or the faces she would make whenever he was cumming right inside her warm centre. “ I-I love it, m’all yours” She giggled watching him pat her dry with his towel, following him as he led her back into their bedroom, softly setting her on top of the array of cushions and blankets.

“Who made this blanket baby?” He said holding up a woollen baby blue blanket, “M-me” She whispered watching him pull up her dress over her body, leaving her body naked in front of him, his precious masterpiece. “Mhm ya made it for us, n’ our little gemstone, our little family. No one else” He grumbled kissing up her stomach, smiling every time his baby kicked up at him, he couldn’t wait to find out the gender in a weeks time.

“Our little family” She whispered, trying to hold back a smile as Henry peppered hundreds of kisses up her body, his hands grasping at her growing tits, kissing at her nipples and watching them harden. Every night Henry would treat her to a nice breast massage, claiming it would help the milk come in faster, now was that true? Y/n didn’t know but any excuse to have him touch her was a welcomed one. Frankly Henry didn’t know either.

“I’m not gonna fuck you tonight sugar pie, m’ gonna make love to my gorgeous pregnant wife, who is the most amazin’ woman av’ ever seen” He whispered directly into her ear, kissing the shell of it as he felt her hands splayed out on his chest. “R-really?”

“Mhm going to take it nice n’ slow, love on every single parta you, n’ show ya jus’ how much ya mean to me” Looking into her widened doe eyes, he gave her an eskimo kiss, then let their lips meet in a slow, long passionate kiss. Their lips simply feeling each other, their tongues gently massaging each other as she whimpered against him. “Love you so much, my baby bun, all obedient n’ beautiful; my wife, mother of my baby”

“I-I love you too, can’ wait to m-meet our little m-miracle” She hiccuped pushing forward for their lips to meet again, whining when Henry pulled away and turned her body so he could spoon her, placing a soft pillow underneath her bump to make sure she was comfortable. “Ya comfy momma?” “Mhm, miss holdin’ y-you though” She whispered, gasping when she felt Henry’s hand intertwined with hers, his head settled into the crook of her neck; his warm breath fanning her neck to make sure she knew he was with her. He was staying.

He whispered that he was momentarily going to let go of her hand to prepare her for him, his hands lifting her leg up slightly, to allow his hand to venture in massage her slick set of lips gently; her soft gasps and whimpers causing her to nuzzle back into his chest. His athletic shorts were easily shrugged off, revealing that he wasn’t wearing anything underneath, his cock already slipping itself through her folds. Y/n whined opening and closing her hand, clearly wanting to hold his again, smiling in relief as he held onto hers tightly.

Both of them breathing out as she took him inch by inch, bottoming out inside her as his balls rested against her ass, with Y/n holding Henry’s hand close to her chest; kissing his knuckles every so often. “Love this pretty pussy a’ yours, always so welcoming n’ warm, all for your husband isn’t it?”

“A-all for you, m-my husband” She whispered softly bucking her hips to let him know he could start going, and within seconds his hips started rolling against hers, slowly and deeply reaching every inch inside of her; dare I say he even poked her womb a few times with how deep he was going. Taking his hand he reached under his pillow and retrieved his phone, angling it in front of Y/n as he kissed her neck sloppily, taking a photo of her eyes rolled to the back of her head; her mouth agape and drooling onto Henry’s arm under her head.

“My pretty girl, you’re doin’ so well for me, so prouda ya” He whispered dropping his phone, his hand landing onto her tits, grasping both of them in the middle of her chest, rubbing both nipples in a circular direction; his cock stuffed into her velvety walls, his rhythm staying the same. “F-feel you so deep, t-too good” She breathed out cupping her stomach which was now bouncing along with his thrusts, which caught Henry’s eyes as he then cupped the bottom of her stomach. That photo was definitely going to be his phone wallpaper

“Who knocked you up? Who got you this full n’ swollen?”

“Y-you did daddy, f-fuck, feel so full” She moaned, his hands rubbing up and down her stomach lovingly, the fact that she was holding his baby just made her that more irresistible to him; she was taking care of the perfect mix of them both, their baby miracle. “You dare call yourself ugly, you wouldn’t call our baby ugly would ya? So why would call its home ugly? You’re protectin’ them with this beautiful haven inside ya baby, you’re amazin’” He whispered, his hands flowing down to her pussy, feeling the pattern of the H, his fingers found her precious little clit, rubbing the sensitive button until he felt her clench around his length. “These beautiful tits are gonna feed and nourish our baby, n’ maybe me sometimes, how can you say they’re not sexy as fuck; how you’re able to do all these things naturally, as my woman” He joked nipping her shoulder, feeling her giggle and her hole clench at the idea of her own husband sucking on her hardened nipples.

“Can feel you gettin’ close honey” He whispered watching her face turn to the side, her hand reaching around to his head, her lips pushing his into an open mouthed tongue kiss; his thumb lovingly wiping her drool covered chin, his thrusts not letting down. “b-baby, beautiful, f-family” She said clearly cockdrunk, muttering out words that she had heard from her husband, “Yeah baby that’s right, now do ya think ya can let go for daddy?” He cooed letting her nuzzle her head back into her cushion, his smile softening at her smile and at the way her hand instantly reached to hold his.

“Am’ gonna cum H-Hen”

“S’okay sugar babe, m’ gonna cum too, together okay?”

Henry picked up the pace just for her, her whines and whimpers getting louder until finally he felt her creamy onto his cock, his own juices spurting inside her; causing her to breathe out happily at the warm stuffy feeling inside of her. “I love you, don’t ever fuckin’ doubt that, you have a nasty thought in your pretty head? You tell me n’ i’ll sort it out” He growled kissing her cheek as he turned her to lay on her back, with him propped up on his elbow as he traced over her stomach. “What are ya t-tracin’?”

“Hearts, so our mini baby bun knows what love looks like” He chuckled finishin’ his tracin’ looking up to his wife’s eyes, with her getting all giddy and smiley at his confession. “I-I already love ‘em so much, g-gon dress them so p-pretty. N’ w-we can play i-in the fields w-with them” She giggled playing with his fingers which were on her chest, the post sex haze doing nothing but accentuating their love for each other. “Pretty like their gorgeous momma” Henry whispered pecking her lips once more before he remembered something.

“Now how about I show ya somethin’, ya don’t havta walk, ill carry ya” He whispered as she nodded, the both of them trodding to the end of the long hallway towards his work room, her eyes widening at the site of two wooden bassinets sitting at the corner of the room. “Y-you made this for mini bun?! B-but why two?” She wondered looking up at his deep blue eyes, “m’ preparin’ for the next one bunny”

“t-two babies” She giggled whispering to herself at the idea of her big gruff husband handling two tiny tots at once, watching him dote on them like the protective man he was. “Mhm m’ gonna keep ya barefoot n’ pregnant, like ya this way baby bun, all swollen an’ big for me” He gruffed nuzzling his rough bearded cheek against her soft one, “Told ya, you don’t need those stupid friends a’ yours when you’ve got me sugar, m’all ya need and our mini bun right ‘ere”

———

PSA: Hope this is all good! I wanted to show a more emotional and loving side to their relationship 🫶 But still sprinkle a bit of dark!manipulative!Henry

library blog of works @f10werfaes-cosy-collection

Taglist (not accepting, use blog): @drewsuncrustables (thank you for the ‘H’ idea) @they-call-me-arte @helenaellie @pandaxnienke @thereisa8ella @kimhtoo17 @beck07990 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @madebylilly @kebabgirl67 @marvelgurl @uwiuwi @stormcloudss @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @nikkitc0703 @mischiefsemimanaged @oliviah-25 @aerangi @bookfrog242 @alina02 @alexxavicry @hp-hogwartsexpress @angelmather1 @acornacre @ggmimitf @thebaileybugle @p4st3lst4rs @kzhlvlysstuff @thoughtsofreid @cilliansangel @theekyliepage @cookielovesbook-akie @luvabellee @elenavampire21 @hoya122 @rosiesluv7 @yaminax @esposadomd @meyocoko @disaster-rose @severewobblerlightdragon @kemillyfreitas @adoreyouusugar @queensgirl718 @sweetybuzz25

Hope you all enjoy this instalment xoxo

[starlingflight]

Priorities

A/N: I swear I'm going back to SEL now, but I sat down at my keyboard and this just came out of nowhere. Please accept this fluff filled HBP missing moment in penance for my procrastination:

Read on AO3

“Dean!” 

Harry's stomach dropped at the sound of Dean's name from a voice that was unmistakably Ginny's. He turned to find her hurrying towards them across the common room, her school bag hanging haphazardly from her shoulder, and her eyes bright despite the early hour. 

He wanted to keep walking. He'd thought he'd finally seen the last of her and Dean together since their break up a week ago, and he had no desire to witness more of it now, but Seamus stopped, and Harry had agreed to go to breakfast with both of them in place of Ron and Hermione, who were both busy with prefect duties. 

Reluctantly, Harry halted beside Seamus, trying to look at anything but the way the morning sunlight slanted through the common room's high windows and made Ginny's hair look like it was glowing where it framed her face. 

“I hoped I'd catch you before you left the common room,” she said. Harry tried not to listen, but it was impossible, it was like his ears were attuned to the exact, musical frequency of Ginny's voice. 

“Did you?” Dean asked sceptically. “We've not really spoken since we–” 

“Well, I've been busy with Quidditch, and OWL work,” Ginny said, and even without looking Harry knew she'd be waving a hand unconcernedly in front of her. “But I wanted to give you this back.” 

Beside Harry, Seamus sucked in a sharp breath. Harry’s neck moved without any permission from his brain, forcing him to look.

She was holding an article of claret coloured clothing out to Dean, one that Harry recognised immediately. Something integral inside him had taken great offence the first time he’d seen her wearing Dean's West Ham jumper; he'd not grown to appreciate it any more on any of the following, mercifully infrequent, occasions either. 

“You can keep it,” Dean said now, looking extremely caught off guard. “I didn’t expect you to give it back.” 

Ginny shook her head. “No, it's yours. I meant to give it you last week, but I've been–” 

“Busy,” Dean finished for her. “You said.” 

He took the jumper, clutching it awkwardly against his body. Harry looked away again. Seamus cleared his throat uncomfortably. 

“I'll just put this in the dorm,” Dean said. “No point carrying it around all day.” 

“I’ll come with you,” Seamus offered. Harry remained silent, his eyes fixed on a tapestry of a witch petting a unicorn hanging on the far wall. 

“Bye, Ginny.” 

“Bye, Dean.” 

Harry felt rather than saw Seamus move away from him. He heard the simultaneous footsteps of him and Dean making their way back to the dormitory. He didn't look away from the tapestry until he heard the door to the staircase open, when he did, it was to find Ginny looking at him apologetically.

“Did I just doom you to a solitary breakfast?” 

Harry shrugged, ignoring the flutter of butterflies rising in his stomach. “Not if you come with me?” 

Thankfully, Ginny grinned in response to this suggestion, meaning Harry was spared from dying of embarrassment that morning. 

“Come on then. I need to report back to Mum that you're eating properly.” 

“Why would I not be eating properly?” He followed her to the portrait hole. 

Ginny shrugged. “I don’t know, it's Mum, she thinks everyone's not eating properly.” 

The corridor outside Gryffindor Tower was deserted. Their footsteps echoed loudly as they made their way towards the staircase. 

“Sorry if that was really awkward,” Ginny said, throwing a glance over her shoulder, obviously checking for Dean, who did not appear to have come back down from the dormitory yet. “I've been carrying that bloody jumper around in my bag for days trying to find a time to give it back. I had to take the opportunity when it was presented to me.” 

“Honestly, I'm just glad it's gone,” Harry said, before his brain could engage his mouth. Ginny's eyebrows rose about as much as Harry's heart plummeted. “It's killed me to see you in West Ham colours,” he said quickly. 

Ginny frowned. “I didn't realise you were such a big football fan.” 

Well, he was going to have to pretend to be now. “I live with Muggles, don't I?”

“You've never mentioned a football team,” she pressed.

Harry could feel her eyes studying his face like a physical touch. His heart was hammering in his chest; his brain had conveniently chosen that moment to stop working; he couldn't name a single football team even with a wand to his head.

“I–” 

“Actually, I have a more important question!” Ginny announced, saving Harry from whatever stuttered nonsense had been about to come out of his mouth. “Do you even have a Quidditch team?” 

They were at the staircase now, Ginny was a few steps ahead of him, making their height difference even starker than usual as she looked up at him curiously. 

“Er, Gryffindor?” Harry tapped the Captain's badge pinned to his jumper. 

“No!” Ginny rolled her eyes in exasperation. She paused, waiting for Harry to catch up to her. “An actual team – a professional team?” 

“Oh, I guess–” 

“Don't say it!” Ginny said, ending Harry's sentence once more. Her eyes narrowed. “If you tell me Ron's converted you to the Cannons, I'm going to disown you.” 

“Disown me?” he repeated, his smile growing in response to the one gracing Ginny's face. “I wasn't aware you owned me to begin with.” 

“Weren't you?” She looked away from him, taking the next flight of stairs two at a time. “Well, now you are.” 

“Unless I tell you I'm a Cannons supporter?” Harry increased his pace to keep up with her. “And then you're going to disown me?” 

“Exactly.” 

Was she blushing or was that just in Harry's head? 

“I'd better not risk it then.” 

She was definitely blushing. Or, more likely, he had started with waking delusions to match the near constant ones he had about her in his dreams. 

Ginny stopped on the step directly below him. She turned, placing her hand lightly on Harry's chest, halting both his descent, and the beat of his heart. 

“Let me tell you why you should be a Holyhead Harpies fan.” 

“Is this your sales pitch?” It was a wonder he could speak at all when his lungs had stopped working. 

She nodded. She was so close, her head tilted up to look at him, and her hand on his chest spreading warmth throughout his entire body. It would be so easy to lean down and–

Ginny took a step backwards, letting her arm fall away from Harry as she continued down the stairs. Her eyes, however, never left his. 

“One.” She lifted a finger in the air beside her. “Choosing the only all-female team in the league will make you appear sensitive, and extremely attractive, to most girls.” 

“You want me to make a decision as important as this based on what girls might think?” 

Somehow, he managed to keep to himself that he was on the verge of doing just that, based on what one particular girl might think. 

Ginny shrugged. “It's a sales pitch, I'm trying to appeal to your top priorities.” 

“Well, the opinions of unknown girls isn't one of them.” 

“Good to know.” 

“Is it?” He hadn't meant for his voice to drop so low, but he definitely liked the way Ginny's smile grew in response. 

“Yes, it helps me figure out my angle.” She raised a second finger in the air. “Two: their colours are green and gold, which my mother would assure you are your colours too.” 

Harry laughed; the sound bounced off the ancient walls surrounding them. “So, upon hearing I'm not making this choice based on the opinion of girls I might, hypothetically, want to impress, your next thought was your mum?” 

“No!” Ginny protested through a laugh of her own. “My next thought was that you look good in green!”

Harry's laughter died as his breath was stolen from him once again. 

“Three,” Ginny said quickly, raising a third finger into the air. “This one is the most important.” 

“Go on,” he managed to say. 

They were almost at the marble staircase now. Ginny halted their progress by leaning against the balustrade that overlooked the entrance hall. Harry lingered beside her, finding nothing to complain about in spending longer in her company. 

“In a few years, when they sign me – which is definitely going to happen – you don't want the inner turmoil of choosing between your loyalty to another team and me.” 

“There would be no inner turmoil,” Harry said, acutely aware that he should shut up, but finding himself completely incapable of doing so when Ginny was looking at him like she currently was. “I would obviously choose you.” 

Her smile was almost too brilliant to look at, yet Harry couldn't look away. “Oh, so you'd say I'm quite high on your priority list?” 

He didn't know if she took a step closer, or he did, all he knew was that the gap between them had decreased significantly, and that his heart was threatening to beat out of his chest. 

“Fairly high, yeah.” 

Ginny's eyes bored into his; Harry was transfixed. He waited, barely breathing, to see what her response would be. The corner of her mouth twitched– 

“There you are!” Ron's voice crashed into him with the force of a lightning bolt. 

Harry jumped back from Ginny, whipping his head around to see Ron and Hermione approaching, Ron grinning broadly, and Hermione looking almost as pained as Harry currently felt. 

“Have you eaten?” Ron asked. 

Harry glanced at Ginny to find her glaring at Ron. “We were just on our way to breakfast.” 

“Excellent,” Ron said obliviously. “We're done with rounds.” 

He continued walking, without stopping, in the direction of the marble staircase, apparently secure in the knowledge that Harry and Ginny would join him and Hermione. A fair assumption, Harry reminded himself, pushing off the balustrade. 

“I'm going to tell him,” Ginny said, quietly enough for only Harry to hear as she fell into step beside him. Harry's stomach sank, his brain leaping into overdrive, imagining Ginny informing Ron that he'd just spent the whole walk from the common room treacherously flirting with his sister. “...that you've betrayed the Cannons in favour of the Harpies.” 

“I don't think I actually agreed to that yet.” He hoped his shaking voice was only detectable to him. 

If Ginny noticed, she didn't show it. She was smiling again, her eye catching his. “You as good as did,” she said as they crossed the entrance hall. “But don't worry, it can be our secret for now.”