#ryan thanksgiving smut | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

clarks-letterman · 5 months

Note

Even though Ryan didn't get a whole lot to do, he was REALLY doing it for me with his obvious displays of interest, so Ryan x Male Reader request where both are preparing for the Thanksgiving parade, he's expressed being attracted to the reader in the past, & has been heavily flirting while in the pilgrim costume with lots of holiday appropriate innuendos. When everybody else clears out, it leads to him fulfilling his promise of "stuffing" the reader.

sososo good omfg

a/n — brought to you by slotslights! would've been posted sooner if finals and holidays didn't exist ayyyy ... little late for the holiday im so sorry

summary — check the ask!

warnings — standard smut, jokefic cause this movie is unserious, spit as lube and this was rushed sorry!

words — 2.4k

~~~

You stood on top of a small, obviously fake ship. It was comical in design and size, being barely enough to fit you, let alone two people on it. There’s some kind of block—a wooden crate, you think—at the very back of the narrow space to stand. The ship was a bit taller than the rest of the floats, overlooking the living cornucopia of little kids painted to be greens and sweet fruits to your left, the dinner table with some townsfolk in pilgrim costumes sitting around it to your right, and your ship was spearheading the order precisely in the middle. Their costumes only reminded you how itchy yours was, being composed of spandex and knit cotton that caused the perfect combination of skin-hugging discomfort.

Behind all three was the large inflatable turkey, inconsistently staring at people as it bobbed and billowed. On the opposite end of things, in front of your float, were the marchers and mascot of the holiday. You envied him the most, as he stood out past the large opening in the building that housed the whole show with a thick, full-body costume on. He had to be as warm as being in a literal oven.

The organizers handed you two mic-packs with an earpiece for each rectangular receiver right before you boarded the ship, except it was just you on the deck. You started securing the receiver to your hip. Footsteps scaling up the warehouse stepladder drew your attention, and shortly after, the mock-Mayflower shifted a bit on its stand to make room for another voyager.

You turned, immediately recognizing the man under the Pilgrim hat. “And the king of putting his arm around people’s shoulders returns!”

“I said I was sorry.” He rolled his eyes, acting as if his blunt advances last week should be forgotten about.

“Don’t, Ryan.” Your cheap costume wouldn’t be the only pain in the ass on this boat. Unfortunately, they had already wheeled the mobile staircase that was your only escape away, making the only viable option to wait and ride this out at about three miles per hour.

If there was one thing about Ryan, that felt like it defined him entirely, was how forward he expressed himself to be. “Come on, stop playing cold turkey. I know you’re addicted to me.”

“Here.” He wore an identical costume that you got to eye up and down when you had to begrudgingly hand him his ticket aboard. His rite of passage to be putting-his-arm-over-your-shoulder-length away from you.

Ryan took it from your hands, a smirk on his face with his bottom lip jutting out in confidence. “Someone’s defrosting.”

The fleeting moment got away from your hands like a bird that could fly, unfortunate for the turkey that took its place. The revving of engines signaled that the parade was about to start. A messy collaboration of trumpeters, drummers, and every kind of walking noisemaker started to play in united dissonance. They marched, heading straight down the road. It only took a moment for your float and the ones on either side of it to start their slow roll out into the daylight.

The sidewalks were occupied with people and striped barriers made out of wood lined the street, separating the modern from the old. Old might not have been the right word to describe it—defunct, maybe? Something that was a dead mode of transportation and classified as primordial for a reason, because, as soon as the ship had to hold its own on the tail of a pickup truck, it was shaking and rocking against the bumpy main road. Even a small pothole rocked the ship, sending you stumbling towards Ryan. He held on to you, making sure you were on your feet. He looked back to the wooden crate, moving towards it as you pulled away from him. He sat down on it and extended his hand.

“Seriously?” You scoffed, occupying your hands with the divots of your elbows as you crossed your arms.

“Just swallow whatever mouthful of pride you have and sit with me. This thing is held together by tape and staples and a dream.” His eyes pleaded with the words he knew he couldn’t say.

Falling off this ship might not be lethal, but it sure is embarrassing. So is being in the arms of someone who so obviously wanted you, but at least one of these wouldn’t lead to a hospital visit… you think. Ryan was painfully right, you had to stomach your pride like a dish a family member got you to try that tasted like utter trash. From the slow roll of your parade float to the pace of your steps, it was like you were acting in slow motion. Thankfully, the crowd had the modern mindset that meant you could get a little historically inaccurate in costume. You placed yourself on the upper part of his thigh, legs pouring down into the space between his—indiscernible from the black cloth coating his legs down to his ankles as it covered yours, too.

You scratched at your neck, peeling a bit of the white ruff clawing at your neck away for a few seconds. Momentarily, you could breathe. In that breath taken, you spoke to Ryan, “I need this off me.”

“You don’t need to tell me.” His eyes lingered on the bare spot on your neck, ready to dive in if it weren’t for the lack of privacy. When the public was staring at you, he came in closer. Whispering, “Just a few more blocks, then you’re mine. I’ll tear this off you, yeah?”

“Like the skin on a turkey.” Your patience was like a meat timer that had popped. Your skin felt hot, and you needed this costume off as soon as possible. Ready to escape the open air and go somewhere more private, confined with an excuse to be pressed up to Ryan.

He never left your side, keeping his closeness while you were leaning into his hold. One arm running over both your shoulders was enough to send shivers down your whole back. His other hand waved so that it looked more natural like two optimistic travelers were on their way to discover already-found land. But when the hell were museums about American holidays rightfully celebrated the way they were meant to be? He added in his closeness, “And I’ll stuff you like one, too.”

The old firehouse in Plymouth was where the floats would go after everyone screamed their lungs out and waved their hands into the sky since it was big enough to store several of the old firetrucks that had all been moved downtown. It was a slow ride to your final destination.

As each display of the town’s affection for the holiday pulled into the makeshift warehouse and parked, the worst part proved itself to be how slowly everyone filed out of the depot. There was an agonizing wait for the required assistance down from the float, meaning that you had to stay closer to Ryan longer, the attraction between you the both of you growing stronger each second.

When you did have to leave him, you almost missed his warmth and hands. Almost, because he was back on you in seconds of your feet hitting the smooth concrete in the firehouse. Pitter-pattering was heard as your buckled shoes tapped away from everyone and up the stairs to the second floor, being led to the spot by a knowledgeable Ryan. The second floor was an open area, helmed by a kitchen as you reached the top step. It was arguably only slightly more private than the parade float you were standing on moments ago, but the shuttling of the bay doors downstairs let you know that no one who belonged there would come up to see Ryan feasting on you. Sure, you and Ryan had no business wandering away from the organizers, but two heads leaving their sight wouldn’t do much now that the parade was over.

He had you backed against the dusty counter in seconds, lips to yours, and grabbing what he could through the cheap costume. You two ditched the hats on accident, knocking them off in your attempts to pull one another closer with your holdings. It seemed to be a large kitchen island of sorts, from what you saw before Ryan pulled your attention away, now cluttered with taped-up boxes and a thick layer of dust that was wiped away by you leaning against it. There was a stove on the opposite side of where you and Ryan were cooking with your own heat. Ryan made sure that people would know of your presence by lifting you up on the counter.

“I’m gonna explode if I don’t undo my pants, fuck.” Ryan complained, breaking away from you like a wishbone—his dream coming true as he had you at his mercy. He had done the hunting, the alluring, and now, he was ready to claim you.

“Can that drumstick even fit on my plate?” You asked when he dropped his pants and let them bunch at his ankles. The black fabric of his suit must have hidden what he was packing. “Looks a little too big for me. Maybe you should just butter stuff up instead of trying to fit that in?”

“Trust me, I’ll make it fit.” Ryan tugged on himself a few times before grabbing you by the hips. He slid you towards him. “Lean back, pumpkin pie.”

“You’re so funny,” you feigned a laugh and leaned back on the cold countertop. Ryan pushed your legs up so that you got the message to keep your knees tucked into your chest, giving him an easy entrance to your ass after he undid your pants just enough to see it clearly.

You didn’t have to hear him spitting in his hand to know that he was lubing up your hole with a quick solution. Wet, warm saliva was spread over your entrance and his fingers lightly dipped in with a tasteful slip of his fingers into your tightness. Not all of it went to preparing you for his massive girth, though. The hand he didn’t use to tease you was slicking up his cock with his own spit, a remark flying out of his mouth as he welled up another wad of spit in his mouth. “I don’t usually master-baste like this but…”

“Shut up…” You said softly, too inebriated by the feeling of Ryan’s hand playing with you. The only thing that could send you out of this comatose state of pleasure was the pain of him stretching you out.

“Oh, fuck.” He moaned, feeling his tip be fought against by the constricting feeling of you constantly wrapped around him. His pleasure heightened knowing that he had effectively dominated you after you let him do this following his many, many advances.

Ryan delved further, exploring your cavity in its entirety. He loved how he constantly felt the tightness around any part of his cock at any given moment, yet he was still being gripped by the rest of your insides—though, it was much softer, like a gentle hand tugging on him without any part of him left untouched. You liked it, too. For as much as it hurt, stretching you out beyond what you felt you could take, there was still this feeling of letting him hurt you in a way that caused pleasure.

Ryan eventually bottomed out, pulling all the way out to regain that feeling of tightness along his entire cock. But, he noticed that you were gaping for him, your muscles relaxing for him like they wanted to welcome him back in. He let his cock sink back in, fucking you properly after getting to know the space he was dealing with and being accustomed to the pleasure.

It was almost ironic that last week, you wouldn’t have touched him with a ten-foot pole. But now, you wanted him inside. You needed him, like an addiction. His humor, his charm, and most importantly, his high-quality assets that he was more than happy to whore out to you. You figured that you should add his knowledge onto there, too, because he was handling himself like a champ. While he was losing his composure, his thrusts growing sloppier each time he forced all of himself into you, he kept up the pace like he was mashing potatoes—or, churning thick, creamy butter with each pump. And look, he was doing it with no hands! Well, excluding the ones he kept on your legs to keep you from sliding back or having your legs get too tired. He was still considerate, even when fulfilling his selfish desires.

That’s why he slid one of his hands down your thigh and past your pants, reaching into the small window formed by the stretching of the fabric between your legs and your ass. His hand went straight for your cock, playing with it as his thrusts shook your whole body. He wanted you to feel all of the euphoria entangled with pain that he experienced at that moment, his shaft feeling suffocated by your entrance, only to have wide walls to fuck and tug his dick along on the inside.

His hand was calloused and cracked from the cold weather, but he still felt good on your sensitive skin. Little maneuvers like rubbing his thumb over the head of your dick and keeping his grip tight when he moved his hand along your length sent you spiraling. Grunts and moans filled the air like the wafting scent of a momentous dinner being laid out on the table. The sight of you alone, but mixed with Ryan’s primal energy made this feel more fulfilling than any food could.

Eventually, you announced that you were on the verge of coming, but it probably sounded a lot less clear in your head. Ryan was still jerking you off but stopped as felt sticky white spray over his fingers and he watched it cover the stomach of your cheap costume. As he saw you unfold, he finally came, leaving you with a mix of creamy white and meaty stuffing still filling you up. You enjoyed how full he made you feel a little too much, missing it as he pulled out with a softening cock coated in his own release. Some of it hit the floor as he was still leaking out the last bits of it. Your hole could barely contain his homemade stuffing.

You sat up, catching your breath. “I need two things from you. Some paper towels, and an invite to your family’s Thanksgiving dinner.”

#fanfic #x male reader #x reader #gay #fanfiction #ryan thanksgiving #milo manheim x male reader #milo manheim #milo manheim x reader #thanksgiving x reader #Ryan x reader #wally clark #milo manheim x male!reader #milo mayhem fanfic #x male!reader #male reader smut #horror movie fic #thanksgiving movie #thanksgiving 2023

202 notes · View notes

phefics · 6 months

Text

𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞. ophelia. early twenties. she/they. multi-fandom. horror enthusiast, cozy gamer, swiftie & daughter of cain. here to indulge in my slutty fictional fantasies.

𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬. do not copy or repost my fics, or feed them to ai. do not follow me if you are under 18. only send requests when i am accepting them & respect my boundaries. read my rules before sending. most importantly: be nice!!

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 | 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 | 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬: 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 (𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰)

𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐬. (𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐬)

baldur's gate 3. astarion; karlach; shadowheart

criminal minds. aaron hotchner; derek morgan; emily prentiss; jennifer jareau; penelope garcia; spencer reid

death note. l lawliet; light yagami; misa amane

fear street trilogy. cindy berman; deena johnson; kate schmidt; samantha fraser; simon kalivoda; ziggy berman.

five nights at freddy's. mike schmidt; steve raglan/william afton.

grey's anatomy. addison montgomery; cristina yang; george o'malley; meredith grey.

grishaverse. alina starkov. inej ghafa. jesper fahey. kaz brekker. nina zenik.

harry potter. blaise zabini; cedric diggory; draco malfoy; fred weasley; george weasley; harry potter; hermione granger; ginny weasley; luna lovegood; nymphadora tonks; theodore nott.

miscellaneous. dean winchester (supernatural); kurt kunkle (spree); luke castellan (percy jackson); riff (west side story). roman roy (succession). ryan (thanksgiving 2023). stiles stilinski (teen wolf). sweeney todd (sweeney todd).

saltburn. felix catton; oliver quick

scream. billy loomis; sidney prescott; stu macher

spider-verse. hobie brown; miguel o'hara; peter parker (tasm)

stardew valley. abigail; alex; haley; harvey; leah; maru; penny; sam; sebastian.

stranger things. chrissy cunningham; eddie munson; jim hopper; nancy wheeler; robin buckley; steve harrington.

the hunger games. coriolanus snow; finnick odair; gale hawthorne; haymitch abernathy; johanna mason; katniss everdeen; lucy gray baird; peeta mellark; sejanus plinth; tigris snow.

𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬.

yes. afab!reader. aus. biting. bondage. choking. degradation. edging. fem!reader. fluff. foot fetish. gender-neutral!reader. hickies. overstimulation. praise. scratching. sex toys. smut. spanking. threesomes. tickling.

maybe. amab!reader. angst. blood-play. “daddy” as a title. dub-con. knife-play. male!reader. parenthood. pregnancy. specific aesthetic for reader. watersports.

no. age-play (sexual or non-sexual). cheating. eating disorders. f!receiving anal. gun-play. incest/step-cest. pedophilia. rape/non-con. scat. vomit.

#ophelia's pinned #blog nav #slasher fic #x reader fic #reader inserts #fic writer

79 notes · View notes

silverlynx87 · 4 months

Text

My current works

Hey y'all Goose enthusiasts, I'm going to pin this here so people can access my writing easier. I only have a few so far, I'll update as I add more over time. Thanks for reading and all the likes/reblogs/comments! Fics with a * contain smut. The Mirror*(Luke Glanton x reader) Tickles*(Lars Lindstrom x reader) A Friend on Thanksgiving(Jacob Palmer x reader) Heart-Shaped Box - sequel to a friend on Thanksgiving(Jacob Palmer x reader) I'm also answering asks about Ryan Gosling characters, whether it be headcanons or otherwise. If you have a request for a fic, please be patient if I decide to write for it. I am living with a chronic illness and will not always have energy. Know that if I decline your request it's never meant out of disrespect or judgement! Just a heads up- Most requests will be met with a small blurb or oneshot, typically under 1k words because it takes lots of time and energy for me to write. Please label if you want it to be nsfw with smut. ****THINGS I WILL NOT WRITE**** -RPF of Ryan or his family(note: fic where Ryan is effectively a character in and of itself is fine, but even then it's iffy and the request will most likely be declined.) Thanks! <333

#ryan gosling #ryan gosling fandom #my writing #ryan gosling fanficton #ryan gosling fanfic

6 notes · View notes

ao3feed-ghostfiles · 5 months

Text

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #shyan #skeptic believer

0 notes

ao3feed-watcher · 5 months

Text

#IFTTT #shyan #skeptic believer #ao3feed #fanfic

0 notes

soaimagines · 6 years

Text

Happy Thanksgiving 🦃

Part Two of The Holly-Day Series

Part One: Happy Halloween

Pairing: Happy x OC Holly

Word Count: 3,115

Authors Note: Im sorry this is late! Life got in the way. But heres part two of the Holly-day series. Part three will be up for Christmas 💕

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Holly leant back in her chair in the office, her feet resting in the eye of the desk as she doodled in the notepad in her hands. She wasn’t the best singer in the world, but she could carry a tune and was working hard to perform both parts of ‘Baby, It’s Cold Outside’. Jax and Chibs were working in the garage, although they were spending more time talking about club business than doing any work. Holly’s voice grew louder as she sang the song and once she reached the chorus she was really belting it out. They could even hear her pens hitting the desk as back up music and Jax rolled his eyes. Chibs chuckle and they both walked into the office. Holly glanced up but continued singing. “I really can’t staaaayy..” She flung her ‘microphone’ pen out and held it to Jax who simply shook his head. Holly threw her hands up and shifted in her seat to sit up straight. “How rude, Jackson, just barging in here. Can’t you see I’m busy?” She pointed to a pile of paperwork on the desk that she had been ignoring all morning. Chibs laughed at that and leant against the wall. “Ye know it’s only November, Holly.” “What’s your point, Filip?” “The point is, stop singing fucking Christmas carols.” Holly gasped and held a hand to her best in faux hurt. “How dare you!” Jax smirked and shook his head and Holly cracked a smile too. “Well now that you boys are here you can tell me, What time are we meeting at the maze tomorrow?” Jax blanked and looked to Chibs, whose expression mirrored his own. Holly rolled her eyes. “Gems been talking about it all week! The corn maze?!” “Ohhh youre wanting to know if your boyfriends gonna be back in time huh?” Jax teased. Holly glared at him when Chibs jumped in. “A romantic walk, getting lost in tha corn.” “Seriously, boys. Grow up.” The boys were about to respond when the roar of motorcycles filled the lot and they all peered outside. Four bikes rolled in and Holly recognised them as Happy, Juice, Kozik and Bobby. For almost a fortnight the four had been away, helping out in Tacoma charter, though Holly wasn’t sure of the reasons behind it. All Holly knew was that the absence had most definitely been noticed. Especially of one in particular. Happy had been the forefront of her thoughts even more than usual ever since the Halloween Party she had thrown where she could have sworn they had shared a moment before Tig had interrupted. She watched longingly as he backed his bike up and imagined herself running down from the office to greet him. How hed look up and grin while shed run in slow motion. How he’d run towards her and meet her halfway. How he’s lift his helmet off and toss it aside and she would leap into his arms, ‘The Notebook’ style, his strong arms wrapping around her. He’d say something like “oh how I’ve missed you, my one true love!” And pull her into a smouldering, earth-moving kiss while music played and the guys clapped and cheered and in the background, fireworks!... “Holly!” “Huh?!” She snapped out of her imagination to find Jax and Chibs smirking at her dreamy flushed expression. “Jesus darlin, you might need a napkin for all that drool.” “Shut up!” Holly snapped and stood up. She grabbed a wad of paperwork and shooed them out of the office before slamming the door behind him. The commotion drew the attention of the new arrivals and Holly twisted the blinds shut before slumping back to the desk.

♔

Holly stepped out of the taxi, thanking the driver and walked swiftly to the front door. Knock-knock. Holly adjusted her grip on the dish in her hands and waited rather impatiently. After twenty seconds of no response she knocked again and this time she saw a light flick on through the window. Eventually the door cracked open and she saw Clay peering at her through the gap “Holly?!” “G’morning!” She pushed the door open with her hip and walked into the house. Clay looked baffled as he watched her place the dish and the bags on the counter. “You know what time it is?” Clay asked stifling a yawn. Holly turned to him and noticed his boxer shorts and black singlet, and from his tired expression she could tell he had just woken up. “Where’s Gemma?” “In bed, like a normal person at,” He glanced at the clock. “Twenty past five, Jesus.” “Oh no.” She walked away from him, leaving him staring after you with a mixture of annoyance and confusion on his face. She walked down the hallway and entered the main bedroom, rolling her eyes at the form of Gemma’s body under the comforter. She strode over to the window and ripped the curtains open for dramatic affect, although it was still dark out. “Rise and shine, Gem!” She sang. Gemma groaned and sat up. “Is this a nightmare or are you really in my room?” She asked as she reached for her glasses. “I thought you would have known better than to sleep in.” Holly tutted. She grabbed the robe hanging off the door and tossed it to Gemma. “Get showered, we have a schedule.” And with that she turned and walked back to the kitchen. After twenty minutes Gemma walked in to see Holly hauling the turkey out of the refrigerator. “Need a hand?” Gemma mused as she reached for her cigarettes. Holly glared at her. “Look who finally showed up!” Gemma smirked. “Oh sweetheart it’s far too early for your attitude.” Holly rolled her eyes and opened the dish of stuffing. She had stayed up late last night preparing it. It was an old family recipe passed down from her grandmother and she had wanted to make it perfect. She knew Donna used to make it for Opie and she knew it would mean a lot to him.

The next few hours went relatively smoothly. Gemma had finally gotten stuck in although Holly was still stressing about being behind schedule. Jax and Tara had arrived with the kids although Tara was no help. That was mostly Gemma’s fault, as she didn’t trust her to touch any of the food prep so Tara was stuck cleaning up after them. Holly glanced at the clock and called for Clay, who groaned immediately upon hearing his name. “Can you get the table ready?” Holly asked as she rolled out the pastry for her pumpkin pie. Clay frowned. “Why? We’re not eating for ages.” “God do none of you care about things being perfect?! Just get the extra chair out at least. We need five for the kids table and twelve for the adults.” Gemma shook her head. “We need thirteen.” Holly frowned. She never counted wrong, not when it came to place settings. “Did you change the guest list?” She nodded casually. “Happy and his mom are coming.” “WHAT?!” Everyone stared at Holly, surprised by her outburst and she blushed deeply. “I mean it’s fine it’s just I didn’t plan for extra people and there might not be enough pie for everyone, and ahh..” Gem smirked and winked. “I’m sure you could share your pie with him, sweetheart.” Holly’s cheeks went an even darker shade of red and she tore her apron from her waist. “I need to.. pee.” And with that she ran to the bathroom, leaving the rest of her strange family in laughter.

♔

The house was filling up with guests, and Holly was in an even bigger frenzy now as she waited for Happy and his mother to arrive. She had never actually met Mrs Lowman, but in her imaginary life, where her and Happy were madly in love, they got on well. The nerves were setting in well and truly and she wanted everything to run smoothly, even more so now. The only guests to arrive were Happy, his mother, and Tig. All the food was ready to be served but Holly was still pottering around the kitchen, double checking the dishes were presented to a high standard. “Here.” She looked up, to see Juice holding out a glass of wine and he laughed at her startled expression. “Relax, Hol. Everything looks great.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and she smiled at her friend as he embraced her. Just then there was a knock on the door and Holly quickly finished the wine and made herself look busy. Juice rolled his eyes and beamed at the newcomers. Happy held out the door for his mother and Gemma hurried over to greet them. Juice and Holly smiled as they watched them hug and Mrs Lowman turned to face them. Her eyes fell on Juice and she looked him up and down. “My my.. You are looking good, my Juicy.” Juice chuckled nervously, avoiding Happys narrowing eyes and rubbed the back of his neck. He shoved Holly forward. “This is Holly.” Holly gulped, her eyes similar to those of a deer caught in the headlights and she adjusted her outfit. “Nice to meet you, Mrs Lowman.” She smiled. Mrs Lowman pulled her into a hug and planted a kiss on her cheek. “Please, call me Maria.” She stepped back and looked at Holly warmly. “I have heard so much about you.” “Oh?” Happy cleared his throat and stepped in, ushering his mother to the side where Chibs was waiting to greet them. Juice nudged Holly with his elbow. “Shut it, Ortiz.” Juice scoffed and raised his arms in defence. “I didn’t say anything.” He grabbed the bottle of wine and poured some more into the glass. “Thanks.” Holly sighed in relief. She reached for the bottle and walked away, chugging the contents and leaving Juice holding the glass he had filled for her with a dumbfounded expression on his face. It was going to be a long night.

♔

Laughter and banter filled the room as everyone filled their plates and took their seats around the table. Clay had finally gotten off his ‘lazy old ass’ (as Holly called it) and carved the turkey and Holly watched with a smile as she waited for all the guests to serve before she grabbed a plate. She scooped a variety of salads and casseroles onto her plate in small quantities and picked out the white meat of the turkey before turning to the table. Everyone was seated, and Holly scanned the table for an empty seat. The only chair left empty was between Opie and Happy, and Holly gripped her plate as she walked closer. She couldn’t help but feel she had been set up and by the cheeky grin Opie flashed her she knew she was right. Mrs ‘Call Me Maria’ Lowman was seated opposite her son and next to Juice, who looked uncomfortably awkward by the seating arrangement. Holly slid into her seat and laid a napkin across her lap. “Holly, Opie has been telling me you cooked all of this?” Holly blushed. “Not all of it, it was a joint effort.” “Well, food is the way to a mans heart.” Maria winked, sending Holly’s cheeks and darker shade of red and she turned to look at her son. “Hasn’t she done great, Happy?” Happy nodded and glanced at Holly. “It looks amazing.” He rasped quietly. Holly smiled and wished the ground could swallow her whole and she shot Juice a pleading ‘save me’ look. Thankfully he caught on and roped Mrs Lowman into a conversation, diverting her attention to ‘my Juicy’ as she called him. As the night went on Holly became more relaxed, mostly due to the wine she was consuming but she found herself chatting comfortably with Happy. Every now and then his denim clad thigh would brush against hers and every time it sent shivers down her spine. She fought hard to keep her cool, despite the manic thoughts that were running through her mind and she even managed to hold a conversation with Maria. And just like in her imagination, they got on well. Maria watched from across the table as Happy and Holly chatted between themselves. She could tell there was something was growing between the two, if only they could see it for themselves.

After dinner Holly cleared the dishes, with the help of Lyla and Tara. She had just placed a stack of plates on the counter when Juice darted into the kitchen. “What the hell, Hol!” “What?” Holly asked, taken aback. “I’ve been sending you signals all night. Happys mom is in love with me!” Holly laughed and rolled her eyes. “We all know you're handsome Juice, but get over yourself.” “I’m serious! If you hadn’t been eye fucking Happy all night maybe you’d have noticed her stroking my Mohawk!” Juice hissed. Holly laughed, brushing off his comment and began scraping plates. Juice threw his hands in the air in defeat and walked out of the kitchen, muttering something along the lines of “its a curse, being this good looking.”.

♔

The night was drawing to an end and those that were left were lounging on the sofas, chatting amongst themselves. Holly had headed to the kitchen to clear up the rest of the dessert dishes and pack the leftovers into containers for the guys to take home. Juice was helping her, and he groaned as he watched her scoop a generous portion of sweet potato casserole into a Tupperware container. “I don’t ever wanna see that again.” “You didn’t like it?” Holly asked. Juice shook his head. “I liked it too much. There’s no more room in here, I’m so fat.” He poked at his sculpted torso and Holly rolled her eyes. “Take some. I know how useless you are at cooking and you’ll want it tomorrow.” Just as Juice began to protest the two were joined my Happy and his mother, instantly sending a blush creeping up Holly’s neck. “Holly, my sweet girl, thank you for everything.” “Anytime, Mrs Lowman.” Holly smiled warmly. “Maria.” Mrs Lowman corrected before turning to Juice. “And you.” She looked him up and down before glancing between Holly and Happy and cleared her throat. “My Juicy, why don’t you take me home?” Happy frowned. “I can take you Ma.” “Don’t be silly, hijo, you stay and help Holly clean up. Take her home.” Happy glanced between his mother and Holly, whose cheeks were blushing deeply. “Cmon, My Juicy.” Maria wrapped her arm around Juice and pulled him to the door. Holly watched helplessly as Juice threw back one last alarmed look before being dragged outside and then the door was closed; leaving Happy and Holly alone in the kitchen. Silence fell between them and Holly turned back to the leftovers. Happy moved to stand beside her and Holly gulped. “I can finish up, if you wanted to head off.” Happy shook his head. “I want to help.” He reached for a dish, at the same time as Holly did and their hands brushed against each other. The light contact turned her legs to jelly and she bit her lip, quickly busying herself with the rest of the dishes. Once they were done Holly stacked the leftover containers on the counter. “You ready?” Happy asked quietly. Holly met his eye, getting lost in the darkness of his pupils and nodded. They said their goodbyes, earning a round of smirks and winks from the rest of the guys and left the house.

♔

They walked down the steps in silence, although it wasn’t uncomfortable. Holly followed Happy to Juices bike and he passed her his helmet. She smiled and pulled it into her head and he watched her fumble with the buckle before smirking. “Here, let me.” Holly gulped as he stepped closer and tightened the strap beneath her chin and she couldn’t help but study his features. “Ready?” He asked, his raspy voice sending a shiver down her spine. She nodded and after he was seated she grasped his broad shoulders and swung her leg over the bike. The engine roared to life beneath them and she grabbed hold of his waist as the bike rolled out into the street. He rode carefully, taking the corners smoothly and Holly smiled contently. She studied the way his hands gripped the handle bars and his tattooed arms. Before long the bike rolled to a stop in Holly’s driveway and Happy shut the engine off. She swung off the bike and Happy did the same while she unbuckled the helmet. “Thanks for the ride.” Happy nodded and flashed her a rare smile. “Anytime.” In silence they walked to the front steps and Holly fumbled with the keys as she unlocked the door. Once unlocked she swung the door open and cleared her throat. “Thanks.. again. Did you wanna..come in?” “I should get going.” Happy said quietly. Holly nodded, hoping her disappointment wasn’t shown on her face. She moved to step past him but he reached out and grasped her wrist. Holly gulped as she turned to look at him, the gap between them nearly nonexistent. His jaw clenched and she watched as his tongue darted across his lower lip and her breath caught in her throat as he dipped his head. Holly closed her eyes and tilted her head towards him when the shrill ringtone of his cell rang out. He pulled away and whipped his burner out of his pocket. “What?” He rasped into the receiver. A blush crept to Holly’s cheeks and she made an attempt to step back but with Happys hand still wrapped around her wrist it proved difficult. “You should probably head over here.. soon.” She could hear Juice saying on the other line. “Is ma okay?” Happy demanded, his body instantly tensing. “What? Yeah, she’s fine. But she uh.. she keeps calling me her Puerto Rican prince and don’t get me wrong Killer, your moms great, but if you don’t get here soon imma be your new stepdad.” Holly bit her lip and held in her laughter, while Happy gripped the phone tightly. “I’ll be there soon.” He snapped the burner shut and slid it into his pocket. “I should go.” Holly nodded and smiled warmly. She said her goodbyes and watched as Happy turned and walked back to the bike. She watched the bike disappear into the street and stepped inside, closing the door behind her and she leant back against the sturdy wood. With a blush still on her cheeks and her heart full of warmth, Holly smiled to herself. She was thankful. Thankful that she had so much to be thankful for.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Tagged For: @i-want-to-be-watered-by-roger @daniehelene27@hellsmurf96 @xsvanjasx@blustar02 @homicidalteenagedream@jaaxsoadeaanspn @trinasoftballgirl @the-reagan-whittemore @thejulietfarciertlove @kacilove26 @mrsirishboru@soafanficluvr1@fortheloveofthesoa @khyharah @samcrolivesforever@redwoodog@jade770 @realpowertwix @supernaturalanarchy @sam-samcro@my-bitch-the-tacoma-killer @thewifeofsethrollins@docsangel@eternalmikaelson @fullyoriginalruins @middle–fingering@shan-xoxo

155 notes · View notes

cozymaples · 5 months

Note

i’ll beg u to write more for ryan

oh, anon..i am feeling these vibes rn.

any place, any time. | (ryan x reader)

contains: afab!reader, boyfriend!ryan, public intimacy, brief mention of seasonal depression, oral!f recieving

ryan is fully obsessed with you being his girlfriend. he takes the role of being your boyfriend very seriously,

winter has brought on your seasonal depression, a problem which he immediately tries to find a solution to. dates, movie nights, or just taking little scenic walks around the plymouth christmas fair. but, as he explains his logic, orgasms release a ton of dopamine, and he has just the fix for that!

he tucks you into a small alleyway, pulling you away from the bustling crowd and christmas shops. everyone who's at the christmas fair is too distracted to even glance away from their festivities, let alone pay attention to what you and ryan are doing in the dark.

that, and ryan is too cocky for his own good. so when he insists on making you feel good, no matter the time or place, who are you to deny him; or yourself? your head is lulled back against the brick wall behind you, and you silently ask for forgiveness from whoever owns the small business. ryan's hands are busy under your shirt, sliding his warm palms up your chest, kneading the flesh of your tits.

"if you can be quiet, no one's gonna notice, honey. yeah?" he asks, and you nod, agreeing. he lowers himself to his knees, tugging your tights down to your knees from under your sweater. the cold air hits your bare pussy, and you whine at the displeasure; only to be met with ryan's soothing mouth. it's warm and soft, and it makes your knees buckle, and he catches you with his arms. he guides your legs to rest on his shoulders, your back pressed against the wall as you nearly sit on his face.

"'ve got you," he slurs against your pussy, massaging your clit with his tongue. you gasp and whine in place of moans, trying your hardest to not make any noise. your hands rake through his hair, coming to a halt and tightening as he begins to lap at your pussy. the warmth of his mouth contrasting with the freezing air outside makes you see stars, your cheeks rosied with warmth granted by your approaching orgasm. "ryan," you warn, and he can sense that tone from a mile away.

"know you're gonna come," he coos softly, never letting up on his eased composure. you're thankful that he doesn't say anything else, desperate to come for him. the fact that he doesn't seem to mind the hundreds of people passing by the alleyway, just you, makes you nearly come on it's own. you gasp sharply, feeling your orgasm knock the wind out of you, throat rasped and scratchy from inhaling the frigid air so harshly. his tongue works faster, sucking and lapping at your pussy to help you ride your high.

"ryan," you breathe, trying to catch your breath. you feel like you can't think straight, and he takes the opportunity to slide your tights back up, pressing a final kiss to your clit before rising to his feet. you roll your eyes playfully at his smug grin, finally succumbing to his antics.

"okay, yes, fine. it helped." you confess, suddenly feeling giddy post-orgasm. he nods, laughing softly with raised eyebrows. "oh, really? it did? hmm, can't imagine why-" he teases, and you shove him playfully. he wraps his arm around your frame, tugging you into his side as you depart from the alleyway, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "like i always say, baby-any place, any time."

#maple writes ryan!#ryan thanksgiving smut #ryan thanksgiving x reader #ryan thanksgiving #milo manheim one shot #milo manheim oneshot #milo manheim smut #milo manheim x reader #milo manheim #ryan thanksgiving oneshot #ryan thanksgiving one shot #ryan thanksgiving movie #thanksgiving movie #milo manheim fluff #milo manheim x reader fluff #milo manheim imagine #milo manheim moodboard

691 notes · View notes

manheimsmuse · 4 months

Text

i want to wear his initial. . ryan baker

to celebrate thanksgiving finally streaming, take this idea that’s been rotting in my head for weeks since i saw this ad.

warnings: 18+, explicit language, suggestive conversation, afab!reader, unprotected sex ( please don’t do this? ), smut!, pnv, my literal first time writing smut be nice to me or else.

your eyes lit up the second it came across your tiktok for you page, you knew ryan would question the charge on his card from a website other than your usual haunts but explaining it away as a small business you found on your explore page seemed to be good enough for him.

you were known all over your campus for your fashion sense, your 2000’s inspired outfits drawing the attention of everyone you passed by, more specifically the ‘whale tail’ that was never missing from an outfit, the strings of your usually neon coloured thongs peeking above the waistband of your low rise jeans.

today was no different, your low rise jeans and white baby-tee, the neon pink strings high on your hips with the custom sparkly letter charms adorning the back; ryan.

“hey, baby” ryan greeted with a smile, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips after spotting you from across the courtyard, blissfully unaware of what everyone was double taking to read.

“hi” you giggled against his lips, pressing another quick kiss to them before pulling away “you got class?”

different degrees, same campus. it was actually how you’d met ryan, some sorority party during your first semester.

“not for another hour..” his voice trailed off, eyes looking past you at the pair of girls that had pointed at your back “turn around for me, baby. think you got something on you..”

you play dumb, turning your back to him and looking over your shoulder. you revel in the look on his face, how his eyes can’t look away from your ass, how his eyebrows have raised and his mouth is agape, and how he tries to subtly adjust himself in his jeans but fails miserably.

“is there something there?” you ask, like you don’t know exactly what it is he’s staring at.

there’s a second of silence, ryan’s brain short circuiting as he struggles to catch up with the real world continuing around him. he shakes his head before grabbing your arm, leading you towards the library without a word and ushering you into the bathroom.

“ryan, i have a class” you giggle, making no attempt to stop him when he pushes you against the door and latches his mouth to your neck.

“don’t care,” he mumbles against your skin, a hand creeping under the fabric of your shirt and towards your breasts, groaning when he realises you aren’t wearing a bra “fuck, baby, think this is the hottest thing i’ve ever fucking seen.”

his free hand slips a finger around the band of the thong, pulling it away from your body and releasing it with a snap. ryan’s mouth swallows your gasp as its back on yours, kissing you roughly like he’s trying to consume you entirely.

your hand trails down to the waistband of his own jeans, feeling his hard on pressing against your lower stomach as he presses you against the door, his tongue roaming around the inside of your mouth.

“easy, baby.” ryan chuckles, pulling your hand away with his own. in a fluid movement he has you bent over the bathroom sink, reaching round to unbutton your jeans and shove them down your legs “don’t remember putting you in charge.” his middle and ring fingers tease your clit through the bright pink fabric, watching your reaction in the mirror as your mouth falls open in a silent moan.

ryan applies a little more pressure, rubbing slow circles as his free hand frees his cock from his jeans and teasingly runs it back and fourth along your folds.

“quick teasing,” you huff, hooking your thumbs around the band of your underwear to remove them when ryan lands a light slap to your clit in warning.

“these stay,” he speaks matter of factly, moving the fabric to the side and groaning as he pushes into you “wanna see my name every time i look down at my cock filling you up, princess.”

#manheimsmuse #milo manheim #milo manheim x reader #ryan baker #ryan baker x reader #ryan thanksgiving #ryan baker smut #milo manheim smut #smut

695 notes · View notes

berriwritertingz · 2 months

Text

the summer i wrote masterlist

content: future smut, fluff, angst, basically all of it

pairing: milo manheim x afab!reader & ross lynch x afab!reader

summary: every summer, you travel to dahlia's beach to reunite with your mother's closest friend and her son. but this year he unexpectedly brings a friend along. caught in the gentle waves of affection and longing, you find yourself navigating uncharted waters where the boundaries of friendship blur.

notes: this is loosely based on the summer i turned pretty. i just watched the second season and lawwwd i wanted to make a ff soo bad. plus milo and ross have absolutely none anywhere.

one

139 notes · View notes

dylobilysmomg · 2 months

Text

Bound by Fear (Blurb)

𝗙𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼𝗺: 𝗧𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸𝘀𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝗥𝘆𝗮𝗻 𝗕𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀: <𝟭𝗸

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗡𝗼𝗻𝗲

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗬𝗲𝘀 𝗜’𝗺 𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗶𝗻 𝗺𝘆 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝘃𝘆 𝗠𝗶𝗹𝗼 𝗲𝗿𝗮!!! 𝗟𝗺𝗸 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗥𝗼𝘀𝘀 𝗟𝘆𝗻𝗰𝗵 𝗳𝗶𝗰𝘀 𝗯𝗰 𝗜’𝗺 𝘀𝗲𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗶𝗺 𝗶𝗻 𝗔𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗹 𝘀𝗼𝗼𝗼…𝗜𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀, 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴! 𝗖𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝘆 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 (𝗬𝗲𝗮𝗵 𝘁𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘀!) 𝗠𝘆 𝗟𝗶𝗻𝗸𝗧𝗿𝗲𝗲. 𝗡𝗮𝘃𝗶𝗴𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻. 𝗟𝘂𝘃 𝘆𝗮!!

𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙢𝙮 𝙜𝙞𝙛! 𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙙𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙤𝙬𝙣𝙚𝙧!

I jolt awake, gasping for air as I sit up in my bed. A dream; just another stupid dream. I catch my breath and scan my eyes across the room, the only thing lighting up the room is the moon peering through my window and the little nightlight in the wall. As I scan the room, I see that my bedroom door and closet door are both open. I always leave the closet open, but I just can’t seem the shake the darkness seeping out of it tonight. Ryan must’ve gone to the bathroom after I fell asleep, yeah, that’s why my bedroom door is hanging open.

I sigh, slowly sliding out of the bed so I don’t wake Ryan, stepping toward my closet and flipping the light on. Nothing. There’s nothing, obviously. Just shoes and clothes and boxes. All things that belong in a closet. No John Carver.

I flick the light off and close the closet door, stepping over to my bedroom door to close and lock it. But I can hear Ryan shuffling in bed as I do so, and I know I’ve woken him up. Again.

“Hey, you okay?” He mumbles, voice groggy with sleep. I lock the door and turn around, going track to join him in the bed. “Yeah, just had a bad dream.” I whisper, crawling back into bed as he holds up the blankets for me to snuggle under.

Ryan tucks me into the blankets, then wrapping his arm around me to hold me close. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” He says, and I can feel his lips move against my forehead. I sigh, cuddling a little closer, if even possible.

“Because I always wake you up. You never get sleep with me anymore.” I say, and it’s true. I’ve felt so bad about having him come over to spend the night with me, or asking if I can spend the night at his place. The nightmares are constant. They never go away. And I can’t help but feel like it’s taking a tole on him just as much as it is me.

He hums, his hand slinking up my tank top to scratch my back, something he knows calms me down, something that’ll help me fall back asleep. “I get plenty of sleep, baby. Don’t gotta worry about me.” He mumbles, and his response is enough to ease my conscience for now.

I lie awake in his arms for a little longer, I think it’s because I’m waiting for the sound of a door opening or glass breaking, but it never comes. So I finally let my heavy lids drop, and I try to get some sleep. Until tomorrow night, when I have to do this all over again.

𝟑/𝟏/𝟐𝟒

#milo manheim fic rec #milo manheim masterlist #milo manheim imagine #milo manheim smut #milo manheim #ryan thanksgiving #thanksgiving #thanksgiving 2023 #ryan baker smut #ryan baker #ryan baker imagine #ryan thanksgiving imagine

96 notes · View notes

hazel-light · 3 years

Text

Chapter Word Count: ~7,400

Total Fic Word Count: ~30,000

Genre: (Wedding) Fake Dating, Friends to Lovers, lots of bed sharing and every self indulgent fluffy trope possible.

Warnings: None? Lots of fluff? Occasional cussing? Some suggestive themes, moments, and jokes I guess. No smut or anything!

Disclaimer: I am not Daniel Sharman, and I do not pretend to know how he would act, speak, etc. This is fiction okay, there’s a lot of creative license, and potential to be OOC. Ricky isn’t mentioned because I started writing this before we knew he existed, so apologies for that. Also, if you’re DShar himself, please do us both a favor and don’t read this, okay???? Same if you know him 🙈

Title taken from the song Yellow Lights by Harry Hudson which suits this story quite a bit!

A/N: You thought I'd skip all the possibilities and tropes that come with the holidays?! Of course not. This is the final part to Yellow Lights. Thank you all for making my return to writing and posting so wonderful. I am so, so, grateful. I hope the ending lives up to your expectations. <3

The next month and a half passes by uneventfully. I try not to spend all of my time thinking about how great Rachel's wedding was, and equally try to ignore the wistful feeling Henry’s wedding left me with. Having Daniel be my fake boyfriend in front of my family showed me everything that I’d ever wanted; someone who fit in seamlessly, who loved me for me, with the perfect balance of romance and friendship. Whatever crush I had successfully buried when Daniel and I first met is now achingly hard to avoid. I curse my active imagination and optimism for letting me indulge in the moments of pretend, leaning too comfortably into our façade.

As a result, I don’t talk to Daniel much. He is busy finishing filming his project in London, and I try to focus on my life in LA. I’ve become paranoid that every text I send him is one too many, too annoying, or too bothersome. I figure I can reassess things when Daniel comes home from filming, and try to find my footing in our friendship again.

This seems like a solid plan until I’m on Zoom with my family for Thanksgiving. Since I’ve already flown back once this year for the wedding, and I’m planning to fly back again next month for Christmas, staying put for Thanksgiving was the economical choice. The call is mostly uneventful until the subject of Daniel comes up.

“Where’s that boy?” Aunt Judith crows from her spot at the dining table.

“Hmm?” I ask.

“She means Daniel.” Ryan rolls his eyes, bringing the iPad closer to her.

“Oh! Right.” I try to recover. “He’s still away filming his new project, actually, but I was able to fly out to see him at the end of September for another wedding, actually.”

Aunt Judith frowns. “That’s a long time to not see someone that handsome—” I start to laugh, “Are you sure he’s not cheating on you?”

Oh shit. It’s in this moment that I realize Daniel and I had never “broken up” as far as my family knows. I hear the rest of my family start sputtering in the background.

“Aunt Judith— you can’t just—”

“That’s awful, I—”

“It is kind of a long time, huh?—”

I try to keep a straight face. “Guys! It’s okay. He’s an actor, it comes with the territory. I expected this.”

“So you aren’t sure that he’s not cheating on you?” Ryan frowns.

“That isn’t what I meant, Ry. Daniel and I are fine. We’re really good, actually.”

“Well I certainly hope you’ll be bringing him home for Christmas then.” Aunt Judith huffs.

“It would be nice to see him,” Rachel speaks up for the first time, and her husband Nick nods. “I didn’t get to talk to him a whole lot at the wedding.”

I clear my throat, my mind racing. “You know, we haven’t actually talked about what we’re doing for Christmas yet; I’ll have to see what he’s doing— if he’s going to spend it with his family.”

“But you’re still coming home,” Ryan states.

“Yes, I am still coming home, no matter what.”

Ryan and Rachel’s mom, my auntie Kim speaks up. “I think it’s pretty common for a boyfriend to defer to his girlfriend’s family for the holidays. I mean, Ryan splits the day with Katharine of course, but Nick always came here with Rachel.”

“I hear you, Auntie Kim, but Daniel never gets to see his family so I’m not sure— all I’m saying is I’m not sure. He may very well come, and I will let you all know as soon as I know.” I smile tersely.

“Well hurry up, and find out,” Auntie Kim chastises. “Christmas is only a month away.”

When I hang up with them, it’s 7pm and I’m feeling antsy. How could I have forgotten that my entire family still thought Daniel and I were together? I’m not sure how to get out of this one. Tired of panicking alone in my head, I pick up my phone and dial Daniel before I can talk myself out of it. It rings and rings, and my anxiety that he won’t answer grows with each tone.

Eventually I hear rustling on the other line.

“Lauren?” Daniel’s voice crackles through the phone.

“Hi.”

“Are you alright?”

“What? Uh— yeah, I just needed to talk to you about something—” I glance at the time on my phone. “Oh god, no. What time is it there? I’m so sorry— I didn’t even stop to think about the time difference, I—”

I hear him suppress a yawn. “Lauren. It must be pretty important if you’re calling me AND rambling like this.”

“No, no, it can wait, I’m sorry— uh, go back to bed. I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“Lauren,” he stops me softly and firmly. “Stop apologizing. What’s going on?”

I sit quietly, feeling like an absolute idiot.

“Lauren, come on. You can tell me.”

“I— we… we never broke up?”

He laughs. “Sorry, what?”

“We never broke up.”

“Am I still asleep, is this a dream?”

“My family still thinks we’re together and they asked me if you’re coming home for Christmas.”

We’re both quiet for a moment.

“Oh.” is all he says.

“I talked to them for Thanksgiving, and they were asking about you. I realized too late that they thought we were still together— because I never told them we broke up. I didn’t think it through this far.”

“Right, I didn’t either.”

My phone starts ringing, telling me Daniel’s trying to FaceTime me.

I accept, and I’m faced with a dark screen.

“Why are we FaceTiming?”

I hear a lamp click on and suddenly Daniel’s face is illuminated as he lays in bed, lines from his pillow still on his face.

“Figured we should at least be able to see each other if you’re going to break up with me in the middle of the night,” he teases.

I shake my head. “Not funny, this is serious, D.”

“I know, I know.”

“If I break up with you, they’re going to yell at me and tell me I’m a stupid idiot.”

Daniel laughs.

“And if you break up with me they’re going to hate you, which means they’ll hate that we managed to ‘stay friends.’ And if it’s mutual…..” I shake my head, thinking. “They’ll think we were lying.”

“Which we were.”

I sigh, “Which we were.”

“So,” Daniel pulls his blanket up higher. “What are our options here?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I called you.”

I watch him stare off into space and reminisce about when I got to see this sleepy Daniel firsthand in Cape Cod.

“I could come for Christmas…” he trails off and I frown.

“That seems like asking a lot. You’ve already given up a lot of your free time this year for me.”

He shrugs into his pillow. “Do you not want me to come for Christmas?”

I pause. “I mean, that isn’t really the issue here. You have to be tired of being in love with me by now.”

He laughs loudly — a stark contrast to the quiet of his room. “Yes, being in love with you is very exhausting.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“I’m kidding. Being in love with you is not exhausting. At all.”

I roll my eyes and say nothing. “I don’t think I can bear to break your family’s hearts at Christmas of all times.”

“Man of the year.” I drawl. “What are you supposed to be doing for Christmas? Going home?”

“No, usually I travel somewhere, but I hadn't decided yet.”

I hum in response.

“Kind of leaning towards traveling to Massachusetts now, if I’m honest.”

I look at him incredulously, only to see a playful grin on his face, but I know he’s serious.

“I’m not going to stop you if you really want to come. But I—” I swallow. “Eventually we’re going to need to plan for whatever happens after Christmas.”

He nods. “I know, we will. Let’s just enjoy Christmas together, first.”

I smile. “Okay. We can enjoy it. Together.”

He clears his throat. “I hope I’m not too rusty at this boyfriend performance, it’s been a few months.”

“Daniel Sharman has performance issues… I hope that doesn’t get out to the press.”

His eyes flash. “Bold, for you.”

I shrug. “You walked into that one, baby.”

“Well, you’re lucky you’re cute, darling.”

We look at each other for a moment, and I hope my eyes don’t give away how fond I am for this man who is willing to commit to fake-loving me, and putting up with my family, and who is setting the bar way too high for any actual real relationship I could hope for.

So much for reburying my feelings.

I break eye contact first. “I’ll let you get back to sleep. Sorry again for waking you up.”

“Do Not Disturb doesn’t apply to you, Lauren. Call any time.”

I smile softly. “Sweet dreams, I’ll text you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight.”

—-

I’m standing in the Boston Logan airport waiting for international arrivals; specifically Daniel’s flight from London. According to the board, his flight landed 15 minutes ago, so he should be coming to the lobby any time now. I bounce on my feet, simultaneously eager and nervous to see Daniel for the first time since parting ways after Henry and Claire’s wedding.

Eventually I see the hat and sunglasses I recognize from a selfie he sent me earlier, and I can feel my heart race. I begin walking towards him, and feel my pace quicken as I get closer. Eventually he sees me too and he’s grinning at me with his signature toothy smile that I missed so much.

When we come into contact I don’t know what the appropriate response is, so I simply grin up at him.

“Hi,” I breathe.

“Hi,” he smiles back, and before I know it he’s closer than he was before and he’s ducking down to kiss me.

It surprises me but I respond quickly, leaning up to meet him.

When it’s over he pulls back just enough to nuzzle his nose with mine.

“Missed you,” he says softly.

“Missed you most.” I smile.

He stands up straight, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder, threading his other hand through mine.

I can’t see his eyes, but I assume he must be looking around when he speaks.

“Oh, are you by yourself?”

The question catches me off guard.

“Yeah— well, Ryan’s in the car, circling so he wouldn’t have to pay for parking,” I roll my eyes.

He nods, “Sorry, then—“ he makes an inconclusive gesture. “Suppose I didn’t need to kiss you quite yet.”

My stomach drops and I smile tightly, “That’s okay— better safe than sorry. I get it.”

He tugs on my hand pulling me into a hug.

“I did miss you, though.”

“And I still missed you most.” I tease.

Daniel shakes his head, but doesn’t argue, pulling back from me and reaching for his suitcase with his freehand.

“Let’s get this show on the road.”

—-

I bring Daniel upstairs to show him around, and so he can put his suitcase in my room.

“Welcome to my childhood bedroom,” I announce, opening the door and leading Daniel inside.

“Wow, where little Lauren grew up,” Daniel teases looking around. When I first arrived home yesterday, I was quick to tidy up, and hide anything that was too embarrassing, but my room is more or less the exact same as I had left it when I was 18 and moving to college.

I nod. “Yes, many secrets to my backstory can be discovered in here.”

Daniel laughs.

Ryan appears in my doorway leaning against the doorframe.

“Just so you know, Daniel, my bedroom is on the other side of this wall,” he nods to his right. “I can hear everything that happens in here. The walls are thin.”

I frown, blushing, “Ew, Ryan.”

Daniel just laughs and smirks, “Got it, bro.”

I look at him incredulously, “Don’t encourage him.”

The two share a look and shrug, seemingly equally enjoying my discomfort.

“Dinner’s ready!” Auntie Kim calls up to us.

I use that as my cue, brushing past both of them to go downstairs, leaving their laughter behind me.

—-

After Christmas Eve dinner, Katharine stops by and the four of us decide to watch the classic, How the Grinch Stole Christmas. I’m the last to arrive in the living room, and when I enter I immediately notice that Ryan is cuddled up with Katharine, and sprawled out over the entire couch, leaving Daniel sitting in the only other seat— the armchair.

I narrow my eyes at them, “Are you guys for real?”

Ryan looks at us and hums innocently, “What?”

“You took the entire couch.”

I see Katharine bite her lip in amusement, as Ryan shrugs.

“I assumed you guys would cuddle anyway. Can you not share the armchair?”

Daniel intervenes, “Of course we can. C’mon Laur.”

He pats his lap. I hesitate briefly before nestling into his lap, tucking my head into his neck.

“Am I crushing you?” I whisper.

“Not at all, you’re keeping me warm.”

I huff a laugh as he puts the blanket over us and Ryan starts the movie. The steady rise and fall of his chest brings me a sense of peace and I have to try not to fall asleep, especially when his fingers gently caress my arm and my leg where he’s holding me to him. I exhale, turning further into his neck and nuzzling into him.

“Tickles,” he breathes, just shy of a whisper.

“You smell good,” I tell him, letting my eyes close.

His chuckle reverberates through his body. “Thanks, darling.”

I feel my eyes shut and sleep take over. I start to come to when I hear the ending song come on, and it drifts into whatever dream I’m having.

“She asleep?” I hear Ryan ask.

“Think so,” Daniel answers.

“You need help waking her up?”

“No, I’ve got it, thanks though. Nice seeing you, Katharine.”

I hear footsteps retreat and feel a series of kisses pressed to my shoulder, as Daniel’s long fingers brush hair away from my face.

“Time to wake up, pretty girl. You can go back to sleep once we’re in your bed.”

I shake my head no, clinging to him tighter.

“Like this bed.” I murmur drowsily.

He laughs softly. “Promise we can cuddle there too.”

“Promise?” I ask, peeking one eye open.

“I promise,” he confirms, pressing one more kiss to my shoulder.

I lift my head to look at him, rubbing my eyes.

“There she is,” he smiles gently at me.

I smile back sleepily, the words coming out before I fully think them through.

“Wanna know a secret?”

“Tell me.”

I swallow, letting my gaze flicker down to his mouth for just a moment. “I like cuddling with you.”

“You do, huh?”

I nod.

“Well the feeling’s mutual. Let’s go upstairs and brush our teeth so we can cuddle more in your bed.”

“Okay,” I relent, getting off of him. He stands up after me and I instinctively lace my fingers with his, leading us back upstairs. When we’re brushed and changed, we settle ourselves in bed and I claim my spot tucked into his neck again.

“Sweet dreams,” he says, kissing the top of my head. I echo the sentiment and gently kiss the spot on his neck I’m closest to. His arms tighten around me and I’m falling asleep again.

—-

For once, I wake up before Daniel. He looks peaceful as he sleeps on his stomach, his arm across my waist, face half smushed into the pillow. I turn my head to look at the clock to see it’s about 9:30 and know the others will be waking up soon. I turn back to Daniel and card my fingers gently through his hair. Eventually his breathing changes and his eyes flutter open, still clouded with sleep.

“Merry Christmas,” I whisper, our faces just inches apart.

He pulls himself closer to me, nuzzling into my side and closing his eyes again. “Merry Christmas.”

It’s quiet for a moment before he speaks again, voice raspy with sleep. “Is everyone else awake?”

“No, I don’t think so. I haven’t heard anyone up and around… they might be soon. Usually we kind of wander downstairs around 10, and it’s just past 9:30.”

He hums in response.

“You can go back to sleep for a little while if you want,” I offer, still running my fingers through his hair. “I’ll wake you when it’s time to go downstairs.”

I start to think he’s drifted off to sleep again when he opens his eyes and looks at me. “No, I can get up. I want to give you your present.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “I told you not to get me anything; you coming here like this with me— twice— is more than enough.”

He rolls his eyes, detaching himself from me and rolling out of bed. “And look like the asshole who didn’t get his girlfriend anything for Christmas? Not a chance.”

I sit up. “We could’ve lied about it—”

“Lauren,” Daniel looks back at me exasperatedly, leaning over his suitcase. “It’s Christmas. Please just open your present.”

He pulls out a neatly wrapped, thin rectangle and places it in my lap, sitting next to me on the bed.

“Merry Christmas, Laur.”

I carefully unwrap the package to reveal a framed art print, with a circle of stars in the middle; underneath it says “The Night Everything Changed” with the coordinates of what I assume to be Los Angeles. I look up to him with soft eyes, and he gives a one shouldered shrug.

“Saw an ad for this online— where you can get the night sky documented of any night you want, anywhere you want. I thought it would be nice to commemorate this past year, for us…” he trails off, and I hug the frame to my chest.

“Daniel, I love it— Really, really love it. It’s so thoughtful.” I reach out and thread our fingers together. “I’m going to hang this in my room. I want it somewhere I see every day.”

He smiles and squeezes my hand. “I’m glad you like it. I actually wanted to talk to you about something— in relation to this. I—”

We’re interrupted by a light knocking on the door, and we both turn.

“Are you guys awake?” Ryan’s voice calls.

“Yeah, we’ll be out in a sec!” I answer.

I turn back to Daniel who squeezes my hand and moves to get up, but I pull him back.

“They can wait; this is special. I want to hear what you have to say.” I smile at him warmly, but he shakes his head, lifting the back of my hand to kiss it.

“It’s alright, I’d rather wait and tell you when we have more time to talk.”

I frown. “Promise me you won’t forget?”

He laughs. “Trust me, I won’t forget.”

He moves to stand, pulling me up with him to go downstairs, but I stop him, wrapping my arms around him tightly.

“Thank you, D. It means a lot to me.”

He returns my embrace, placing a kiss to the top of my head.

When we pull apart, I take his hand again. “Time for Christmas. Your present is under the tree, by the way.”

Daniel laughs. “A present double-standard.”

I shake my head and lead him out of the room.

—-

I think we’re done with presents when Ryan surprises me, coming over to Daniel and I on the loveseat.

“This is for both of you, kind of.” He hands me a thin, narrow gift.

Daniel looks up, surprised. “Thanks, man. That was thoughtful of you.”

He looks at me, silently asking, did you know about this?, and I shake my head no.

I unwrap the package to find a small frame, with a one hundred dollar bill matted in the middle. I look at Ryan and furrow my eyebrows.

“It's the hundred bucks I said I’d give you if you brought a real date to Rachel’s wedding. Seeing as the same guy is here for Christmas I figured you earned it. Thought I’d frame it— but you can take it out and spend it on a date or something, I don’t care.”

Auntie Kim squints. “Sorry, you told her what?”

I roll my eyes and try to avoid the way my stomach sinks at the reminder of how this all started.

I feel Daniel’s hand on my knee. “Clever, Ryan.”

I look over at him to see him flashing his polite interview smile, and I instantly know he knows exactly what I’m feeling.

Auntie Kim stands and stretches. “I don’t get it, but I’m going to go start breakfast. Your sister and Nick are picking up Judith soon and then they’re coming over. Katharine isn’t coming until dinner, right, Ryan?”

As Ryan confirms, she walks out of the room. Ryan turns back to us. “Mind if I shower first?”

I shake my head no, still lost in my thoughts, and I hear Daniel tell him to go ahead.

We’re left alone and I feel Daniel’s thumb brushing my knee.

“Thank you for my presents.”

“You’re welcome— I’m glad you like them; they don’t beat your present for me though.”

He rolls his eyes and we sit for a moment, the framed hundred dollar bill still in my hands.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

I look at him and shake my head. “I don’t know. Just an odd reminder of how this started, and that it’s going to have to end soon, I guess.”

Daniel frowns. “We haven’t really gotten to talk about that. Why don’t we table that for later— we still have a nice day ahead of us. Those are problems for tomorrow.”

I nod and smile at him, and he pulls me in to kiss my temple, and I hear the click of an iPhone camera. I look up to see Auntie Kim in the doorway.

“Sorry, I just wanted to tell you that the coffee’s on. It was too cute not to capture.”

Daniel stands up, offering me his hand. “Make sure you send me a copy. I’ll have to add it to my collection.”

I chuckle as I stand. “Let me guess; the album is called ‘Cute and Shit.’”

He grins. “How’d you know?”

—-

Christmas flies by. It’s filled with good food, wine, and everyone I love. It’s hours after dinner, and Auntie Kim has already driven Aunt Judith home before going to bed herself.

Ryan, Katharine, Daniel, and I are all still seated around the dining room table playing some kind of team card game, and everyone’s faces are red from laughter and wine.

I can’t help but watch Daniel, who is in some kind of hilarious argument with Ryan over some card he pulled. His eyes shine from the light of the chandelier, and his smile is big and bright, taking over his whole face.

It hits me in this moment that I’ve surpassed unlabeled romantic feelings; I am truly in love with this man. The realization consumes me until Katharine knocks her shoulder into mine giggling.

“Can you believe we love these idiots?”

“Sometimes it’s a hard pill to swallow,” I tease, giggling, catching Daniel’s eye mid-argument. He winks at me and I feel my already red cheeks flush even deeper.

“You two are so cute,” Katharine continues, watching our interaction. She lowers her voice, whispering to me behind her wine glass. “I was kind of worried that when you got a boyfriend he wouldn’t mesh well with our dynamic, ya know? But it kind of feels like Daniel’s always been here.”

Her words vocalize the thoughts that have been ringing in my head all day. “I know what you mean.”

Katharine dramatically clears her throat. “Are you two done? Is it our turn yet?”

—-

We part ways from Ryan and Katharine in the hallway, giggling and shushing each other in the wee hours of the morning. I shut my door behind me and waggle my eyebrows at Daniel.

“Uh oh, there’s trouble,” he teases. “Planning to seduce me?”

I shrug exaggeratedly and he laughs before looking around. “Fuck, where are my sweatpants?”

I giggle. “They’re literally right behind you on the chair.”

“Oh, thanks.” He grabs them before looking at me. “Can I change in here tonight?”

I flush. “Yeah, sure.”

After sharing a room together all this time, this is the first time we’ve changed in front of each other and the thought makes my skin tingle. I make my way over to my dresser, pulling out my own sleep shorts and t-shirt. I wiggle out of my pants and pull on my shorts, glancing over my shoulder to see Daniel, shirtless, adjusting his sweatpants on his hips. My throat runs dry, and I turn around to pull my own shirt over my head, reaching behind me to unclip my bra once it’s on. I bundle my discarded clothes in my hand, walking over to toss them in the hamper. I turn around to find Daniel already looking at me. He’s still shirtless and my eyes drift to his defined chest. He looks down as if noticing for the first time.

“It’s really, uh, hot in here.” He speaks again. “Would it bother you if I slept shirtless?”

I shake my head, mentally screaming. “No, it is warm,” I agree, reaching up to put my hair in a bun on top of my head.

He watches me intently, and I laugh self consciously. “What?”

“Nothing. Just thinking about how this was the best Christmas I’ve had in a while.”

My face lights up. “Really?”

“Yeah.” I see his grin quirk up, and know something else is coming. “I’d say it was almost perfect.”

“Oh?” I question, finishing my bun. “Go on.”

“We fit in a lot of classic traditions today, but we missed one that I’m quite fond of.”

I look at him, trying to think of what it could be, as he takes a step closer to me.

“There wasn’t any mistletoe.”

I swallow. “There wasn’t.” I pause, my mind racing. Before I can fully think it through I find myself offering, “But we could pretend?”

“Hmm?” He murmurs, taking a step closer to me so he’s right in front of me now. I know he’s giving me a chance to take it back, or make a joke; I’m nervous, but I don’t want to take it back. I just really want to kiss him.

“I’d really like it if you had a perfect Christmas.”

“And you?” He questions softly. “What would make it a perfect Christmas for you?”

Instead of answering him, I reach up on my tiptoes to kiss him for a moment, pulling back to look him in the eyes. His eyes meet mine in some unspoken understanding, and then he’s dipping down to kiss me again.

He kisses me softly, delicately, like all the kisses at the wedding. He pulls back briefly to look at me, as if he still expects me to change my mind. I kiss him again, wanting there to be no doubt in his mind, and he kisses me back with purpose and passion, and I’m caught off guard by the weight of it. I gasp, and Daniel uses this opportunity to deepen the kiss, pulling me closer. It reminds me of our very first kiss back on his couch. My arms move around his neck, pulling our bodies flush together.

Daniel pulls away first, but barely, breathing hard, kissing down from my jaw to my neck.

This is definitely new territory for us.

I move my hands to his hair, and he groans at the feeling. I can’t help myself as I sigh breathlessly, a shiver running down my back. He grins against my neck, his teeth scraping at my skin and I moan softly.

“Wait,” I say breathlessly, a thought somehow flitting through my mind. “Earlier, didn’t you say there was something else I should know about my present?”

“I can tell you tomorrow,” he murmurs into my neck between kisses. “It’s time for bed.” He tugs me down onto the bed so I’m underneath him, resuming his kisses on my neck.

“This doesn't seem like going to sleep to me,” I tease.

“It is, shhhh, you’re dreaming.”

“That I’d believe,” I laugh, and Daniel smirks, moving so we're eye to eye again.

“Dream about me often?”

“Shhh.” I pull him closer, turning his words back on him. “You’re dreaming, go back to bed.”

“Happily,” he murmurs, kissing me again.

I bring my hands down to his bare shoulders, feeling his warm, toned skin against my fingertips. I gently drag my nails down his chest to his stomach, and I feel his muscles clench at my touch. I can’t help but smirk to myself as he pulls away to rest his forehead on my shoulder, letting out a shuddering breath. I bring my nails around his back, tracing up his taut muscles and across his shoulder blades.

I feel one of his hands come down, pushing my shirt up, his mouth pressing hot kisses to my abdomen. His nose takes over pushing my shirt up, exploring every new inch revealed with his mouth, his hand now running over my thigh, fingers squeezing occasionally, slowly climbing higher. As his hand reaches the bottom of my shorts, he lightly tugs at the fabric. He pauses, his blue eyes tentatively peering up at me.

“Can I…?” He looks nervous, like I’ll reject him. As if I have ever rejected him, or could ever manage to deny him. I’m not even entirely sure what he’s asking but I find myself nodding quickly. As he goes to tug my shorts down we hear a bang on the wall we share with Ryan followed by a crash, a “Shhhh” and a “Shit.”

We both startle and look over toward the wall, before looking back at each other and laughing softly.

“Ugh, I don’t want to know,” I say, shaking my head.

“You probably, definitely don’t.” He smiles at me before pulling his hand off my shorts, and my shirt back down, letting his fingers trace along the waistband of my shorts before he clears his throat. “We should, uh, get some sleep.”

I blink at the abrupt change in mood before nodding awkwardly. “Okay, sure.”

He rolls off of me, and I reach over to shut the lamp off. I’m hesitant to cuddle up to him, unsure if what just happened changed something between us, but I’m relieved when I feel his arm wrap around me the way it always does. Neither of us say anything, and I try not to think about the last few minutes, the firmness of his body behind mine, or the way my body’s buzzing— closing my eyes to try and get some rest.

—-

The next two days with my family go pretty much the same way as Christmas did. Daniel gets on swimmingly with everyone, and my heart aches every time I realize that once the holidays are over, our charade is going to come to an end—a permanent end— this time. I try to ignore that thought and enjoy my time, basking in the coupley moments in front of my family, and leaning into every touch we share.

I never get a chance to ask about my Christmas present; the time never feels right, and Daniel doesn’t bring it up either. Nothing happens between us like Christmas night; when bedtime rolls around we change in the bathroom and go straight to bed. We cuddle, but there’s no after-dark kisses or wandering hands. I wonder if Daniel feels as self-conscious about that night as I do; if he does, he doesn’t show it.

—-

We’re in my room packing to go back to LA in an effort to try to beat the inevitable New Year’s rush at the airport.

“I need to find something to wrap this in so it doesn’t break in my luggage,” I frown, holding up Daniel’s present. “It’s my new prized possession— nothing can happen to it.”

Daniel looks over and laughs. “Want me to wrap it in my sweatpants? That's what I did on the way here.”

“Okay, thank you.” I pad across the floor and pass him the frame, our fingers brushing in the process.

“Of course.” His lips quirk up as he carefully arranges the frame in his suitcase.

A moment passes, and I wonder if now is a good time to ask about my present .

“Hey, I’ve been wanting to ask—“

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask you—“

We both stop mid-sentence and Daniel laughs, “Sorry what were you saying?”

I shake my head, courage gone. “No— sorry, go ahead.”

He looks at me curiously but continues, “Henry texted me; he and Claire invited us to their New Year’s Eve party. They’re having it in LA this year.”

I quirk an eyebrow. “Us? They want me to go?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, Claire apparently requested your presence specifically.”

“Oh, that’s nice of her. I usually stay in for New Year’s.”

“It could be fun— if you aren’t sick of me yet,” Daniel teases.

“Ha!" I laugh, "If you aren’t sick of me yet, more like.” I shake my head. “And don’t mind sharing your friends with me.”

“They’re basically your friends now, too,” he argues.

“I’m not sure one wedding constitutes that, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

“You should come.”

I stop and look at him.

“I’ll call a car and pick you up on the way.”

When I hesitate, he softens his voice. “Please come.”

I swallow, “Okay.”

I’m not a big party person, but I also know I don’t have it in my heart to deny him, especially after everything he’s done for me.

He grins. “Really?”

I nod. “Yeah, I’ll go.”

“Cool, I’ll, uh, let them know we’re coming.”

I bite my lip to suppress my smile and start planning my outfit in my head.

—-

When we arrive at Claire and Henry’s house on New Year’s Eve, I try not to gawk at the size. It’s massive and sits high on one of the tallest hills in LA, away from the noise of the city.

The first person to spot us as we walk in is, unfortunately, Eleanor. I’d hoped she was in London, and away from us, but alas.

“Daniel!” she squeals, throwing her arms around him. “I was so hoping you’d be here.”

“Hi, El,” he placates her with a strained smile. “You remember Lauren?” He gestures back to me.

“Laura?” she asks, disinterested.

“Lauren,” I correct, forcing myself to smile. “Nice to see you again.”

“Eleanor,” Daniel intervenes. “Could you point us in the direction of Henry and Claire, perhaps?”

She frowns, but quickly covers it up. “They were in the kitchen last I checked— we have just got to catch up later.”

“We will!” He agrees graciously. “Let us get a drink, and I’m sure we'll have plenty of time to talk later.”

Daniel puts a hand on my back, guiding me forward and into another room, which turns out to be the kitchen. He’s immediately drawn into a series of bro hugs and handshakes by Henry and some of his other friends.

“Lauren! I’m so glad you came!” I turn to find Claire by a table of beverages.

“Claire! So nice to see you, thank you for inviting me.”

“Thank you for coming,” she says, pulling me into a quick hug. “I told Daniel he just had to bring you.”

I laugh. “He told me you were quite persistent— I usually have a low key New Year’s at home, but this is a fun change of pace.”

“Can I get you a drink?” She asks, already reaching for a bottle of champagne.

“Sure, thank you.” I catch Daniel’s eye across the room; he’s being clapped on the back and led out of the kitchen. I smile reassuringly, hoping to communicate that I’m fine here. He seems to understand, as he smiles back and nods before turning back to his friends.

Claire giggles, bringing my attention back to her.

“You look at him with such heart eyes, it’s cute.”

I try to keep my face from panicking. “Sorry?” She laughs like my reaction is the funniest thing in the world. “Oh don’t worry, he looks at you just the same, so you’re fine.”

I chuckle nervously. “I think maybe you’ve got the wrong impression—”

She shrugs like we’re talking about something commonplace, like the weather.

“Maybe, it’s possible... but I don’t think so. Now come! There’s some other girls I’d love for you to meet.”

—-

I spend a good portion of the night talking with Claire and her friends. They’re all very kind to me, but eventually I excuse myself to get some air out on the balcony.

I’m looking up at the sky — it’s dark, dotted with faint stars and a distant passing plane — when I hear somebody come out and join me. As they settle next to me against the railing I immediately know who it is just by how comfortable I feel.

“Whatcha doin out here, LaurLaur? The New Year’s only a few minutes away.”

I grin at him. “Just getting some air and admiring the stars. From up here you can actually see them.”

He hums, looking up with me.

“It reminds me of a certain piece of art a certain someone got me for Christmas.”

He chuckles. “I’m glad you like it so much.”

“It was very thoughtful…. I wonder if any of the stars are in the same places as they were that night.”

“Which night?”

“The night everything changed. Your birthday.”

Daniel leans against the railing facing me, and looks like he’s about to say something before he changes his mind.

Eventually he speaks again. “Things are going to change again soon, right? You said you’re sure about the break up?”

I swallow, scoffing my shoe against the balcony floor.

“I mean, we still need to figure it out, but you can’t keep fake dating me forever. That isn’t fair to you.”

He smiles wistfully. “It’s not like there was anyone else I was trying to date.”

“I’m a lucky girl,” I lament, and Daniel blushes and shakes his head. “It’s a real shame we’re over, though," I jest, trying to lighten the mood. "I’ve never gotten to kiss anyone at midnight.”

His eyebrows raise in surprise. “Never?”

“Nope,” I pop the p and look down at my feet.

“Well.” He clears his throat conspiratorially. “We can agree not to bring our fake relationship into the New Year if you want, but if the kiss starts before midnight, I think we’d get by on a technicality...”

I laugh. “You really want Eleanor to hate me, don’t you?”

He grins cheekily and shakes his head. “Nah, I think I saw her latched onto some other poor bugger inside. We’re in the clear.”

I roll my eyes, looking back up at the sky. I feel his finger trace my arm, gently using my elbow to turn my attention back towards him.

His voice is softer now, “It’s up to you, but there’s no one else I’d rather kiss at midnight.”

I look into his eyes and realize he’s being sincere. My heart’s beating out of my chest. Yes, I want to kiss him, but I want it to mean something. I keep giving in because I know one day this is all going to go away, and I’ll be left with just my memories and heartache.

He must see some hesitance in my eyes, because he’s taking a step back.

“If you don’t want to, it’s fine. Really.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Not trying to pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do.”

I shake my head. “It’s not that I don’t want to, I just…” I trail off, looking over the balcony, trying to swallow my feelings, which have manifested as anxious tears in my eyes. I feel a tear escape, and I hastily reach up to wipe it away.

“Hey,” Daniel says gently. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t.” I let out a watery laugh. “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m…”

I feel his steady stare, and I come to terms with the fact that I’ve really gotten myself into a mess that I can’t just smooth over. I’m going to have to tell him.

I take a minute to compose myself, and Daniel stays quiet giving me time to put my words together as I look anywhere but at him.

“I do want to kiss you, D,” I start slowly, trying to keep my voice steady, “but I can’t if it’s just another part of our fake relationship.”

He tugs me closer by hand, gently, so I have no choice but to look at him. I swallow the lump in my throat. “I… know this wasn’t supposed to be real. But it has been, for me.”

He shakes his head and squeezes my hand. “So then stop trying to break up with me.”

I blink at him, and he continues.

“The night everything changed— your star map— I wasn’t referencing the story we told your family about my birthday.” Daniel looks at me long and hard like I’m missing something totally obvious. “It’s actually the stars from a night a month or so later.”

A month or two— Oh. OH.

“The night Ryan FaceTimed me?” I whisper, afraid to be wrong.

He takes my other hand in his, lacing our fingers together. “Listen— Fuck. I’m in love with you, Lauren.” He looks at me so intensely and my head is spinning. “I love you, and I’m in love with you.”

“What?” I ask dumbly.

He licks his lips. “A wise woman once said to me, you don’t confess to ‘kind of like someone’ when you’ve already been friends as long as we have.”

I stare at him for a second, my cheeks burning. “Well your friend sounds pretty smart.” I swallow. “Because I love you, too.”

He laughs, relief flooding his features. He pulls me to his chest, crushing me and squeezing the air out of my lungs. Eventually he pulls back, hands cupping my face.

He grins and shakes his head. “She is smart, so, so smart, but I don’t want to be her friend anymore.”

“What do you mean?” My brows furrow in confusion, worried that somehow I’ve misread this whole interaction, my relief quickly being replaced by panic.

“Well.” He steps forward, keeping our faces incredibly close. “I’m hoping she agrees to be my very real girlfriend— that is, if she doesn’t break up with me first.”

I hear everyone inside start the countdown to midnight. I’m still looking into Daniel’s eyes in disbelief, my hands clinging to the front of his shirt.

When the countdown hits one, I’ve finally found the words I want to say.

“Happy New Year, boyfriend.”

He’s grinning as he kisses me, and I am too. It’s not our most elegant kiss, a mess of teeth and giggles, and whispered “I love you”s. We never stray too far from each other’s lips, kissing again and again like we can’t get enough— and maybe we can’t.

Eventually, we calm down a bit, and when we kiss this time it’s all-consuming, sucking the air out of my lungs. It feels like my love is fizzling to the top of my skin, and I feel it. ‘It’ being every indescribable emotion in our kisses this past year, but this time I know what it is: true, unadulterated, uninhibited love. I am in love with my best friend, who is now my boyfriend, and I don’t care who knows it— as long as he does.

His fingers press bruisingly into my hips before he pulls back just enough to look at me.

“Can we go home?” He whispers sheepishly, brushing some hair out of my face tenderly. “I’m kind of tired of sharing you with the public.”

I huff a laugh. “I know exactly what you mean.” I lean forward to kiss him one last time before pulling back to lace our fingers together, squeezing tightly. “Please— take me home, D.”

I don’t have to tell him twice.

---

tagged: @rogershoe @heyrowena @yunsh-17 @trenko-heart @dylxnshxrmxn

#THE END!!!!#can you believe it?!#daniel sharman fluff #daniel sharman x oc #daniel sharman fanfiction #daniel sharman fanfic #daniel sharman fic #daniel sharman imagine #yellow lights

65 notes · View notes