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iamconstantlyinpain · 12 days ago

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christmas at thoma’s | thoma x reader

(a part of @/favoniuscodex ‘s secret santa event! thank you so much for letting me be a part of this, it was so much fun!)

word count: 4.9k !!

summary: thoma’s hosting christmas this year! after the party, you end up snowed inside your best friend’s house, and this festering crush on him isn’t making things easy for you.

tags: gn!reader as always, so so so much fluff and no angst, best friends-to-lovers (could also be interpreted as idiots-to-lovers LMFAO)

author’s note: hi @xiao-cafe !! i was your secret santa, and i had a blast writing for you!! i love love love thoma, and i’m so happy that i could write for him as a gift for you!! i really hope you enjoy it :D happy holidays !! <3

thoma’s brownstone was all dressed up for the holidays. it was decked out in christmas lights, ribbons, and wreaths in each window. the windows were lit up, warmly welcoming compared to the darkened houses down the street. as you stepped out of your car, you wrapped yourself in your scarf.

taking the presents on the other seat, you shut the car door. the streetlights were on, dimly glowing against the flurries of snow fluttering down. you shivered in the cold, walking up the pathway to his brownstone. as you stood on your friend’s porch, you looked at his gift. it was the largest of the collection, wrapped up in red ribbon and white wrapping paper. you really hoped he liked it.

ringing the doorbell, you looked behind to make sure that you had locked your car. as you turned back around, there was a figure at the door and your mouth went slack slightly. even though he was dressed up in a cheesy apron and knitted red sweater, he still looked handsome as ever. his blond hair was tucked into a low bun and his black hair tie had been replaced with a gold ribbon. “you’re finally here, y/n!” he exclaimed. “oh, come in, come in! you’ll catch a cold if you stand out there any longer.”

“hi, thoma,” you greeted, shuffling in with all your presents. he took your coat off for you and brushed the snow out of your hair, fussing over you the way a mother would to a child. his hands were warm and comforting, and you felt like you could stay like that forever. “sure is chilly out there. i don’t think the city has seen a storm this bad in years.”

“i’m just glad you made it here safe,” he smiled. “here, i’ll take those off your hands. how about you go greet everyone else?”

stepping past the entryway, you entered into the well-decorated living room. ayaka stood up from the couch, immediately embracing you. “y/n! oh, i’m so glad you could make it. it’s snowing so hard out there,” she greeted with an amiable smile. “‘come with me. you must need some soup to warm up.”

in the kitchen, it was bustling with energy. yoimiya sat on the counter, a mug of hot cocoa in hand. kokomi and gorou sat at the breakfast bar, both eagerly discussing news at their university. in the living room, kazuha sat sipping on tea by the couch, simply enjoying the fireplace’s hearth. even ayato was relaxing, taking a rare day off from work to spend time with your friends. the tv hummed a holiday special in the background and classic holiday music was sung from a record player.

“hey, it’s great to see you!” yoimiya exclaimed first, waving eagerly. “traffic was awful out there. everyone’s trying to get home for christmas eve, but this weather isn’t making it easy!”

“you’re right, there were so many road closings downtown,” you laughed as you approached the pot of soup. the aroma of carrots, pepper, and tofu was enticing as she handed you a bowl. “i just hope that everyone made it home safe. anyways, how was your week? it must’ve been hectic at the fireworks shop, seeing as it’ll be closed through next week.”

“definitely was,” she laughed before setting her cup down. “people love their fireworks for new years’.”

you smiled. “i’m glad i got my order in, then.”

ayato came up beside you, elbowing you playfully. “hey, save some for the rest of us, y/n,” he teased. “or are you that eager to eat thoma’s soup?”

“you’re on thin ice, kamisato,” you nearly hissed under your breath, ducking your head away. looking to the side, you watched as thoma ate another dango, happily talking with kokomi and gorou. “don’t say things like that while he’s near. it’s not the right time yet.”

“your crush on him is so obvious,” he singsonged, making you smack him on the shoulder. “hehe, just teasing.”

“you might say that it’s not the right time yet, but i disagree,” yoimiya piped up. “the mood is perfect. getting a warm and cozy next to him, cuddling next to each other when a cheesy hallmark movie comes on…come on, y/n! this has been going on for, like, a year and a half now! plus, we hung mistletoe on every doorway for your sakes.”

“i think i’m just fine with how things are right now,” you shrugged back, staring at your reflection in the soup. “what if he doesn’t like me back? that’s almost 10 years of friendship down the drain, so i’d rather play it safe.”

“so boring,” ayato rolled his eyes, nudging you towards the fireplace. “ever consider spicing things up?”

you were then seated next to kazuha, who looked up from his cup of tea. he perked up at your presence. “ah, y/n. long time no see. how have you been?”

“i’ve been well. things are finally settling down at work,” you smile, taking a sip of your soup. “and what about you, mr. worldwide? how’s traveling abroad been for you?”

“it’s been pleasant,” he replied, hiding his smile behind his mug. “i couldn’t miss winter in the city. it’s the best time of the year here. though, i suppose traveling abroad much makes for a good shopping trip for presents. everyone’s gift is from a foreign nation.”

“how thoughtful,” you hummed. “i can’t say that my gifts are as extravagant as yours, but i still hope you like it.”

“you know, i do think that there is one person that i know will like your present,” he said thoughtfully, pressing a hand to his chin before giving you a smirk. “thoma. really, you two are like two ships passing in the night. don’t tell me things haven’t changed since before i left.”

“and that’s my cue to leave. i’m going to put my bowl away,” you diverted, standing up quickly. “always nice seeing you!”

as you hurriedly walked away, a hand caught your wrist. “let me take that bowl off of you,” thoma interrupted. his eyes twinkled brightly, leaning so close to your face that you could count the faint freckles dotting his cheeks. “you’re my guest, after all. dishes are no big deal.”

winking, he brushed past you, fingertips lingering on your hands for a moment. lowly whistling, gorou and kokomi looked at you with widened eyes. “ayaka was correct,” kokomi said, hands folding on top of her white pants. “you and thoma are very in love. additionally, both of you are oblivious and obvious all at once…how curious.”

“kokomi is right,” gorou nodded as you began to become more embarrassed. “how many times have you two done something like that since you’ve arrived? at least three?”

“guys,” you started to reprimand, only to silently steam as thoma poked you from behind. “gah! you scared me!”

“hehe, sorry, sorry, y/n. you’re just too much fun to tease,” he smiled, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. your shoulders tensed at the touch, before relaxing. “well, what were you three talking about?”

“just about work things,” you easily lied, smiling at him.

“ah, nice,” he grinned, standing up tall once more. “it’s starting to get late into the evening. we should start that movie before it gets too dark out.”

walking by thoma, you stood by him as everyone else settled onto the couch. ayaka and kazuha sat next to yoimiya at one end of the couch, while gorou, kokomi, and ayato sat on the other. the space next to ayato was taken up by his long legs, winking to emphasize that he wanted you and thoma to be seated together.

that left only the middle section of the couch to be occupied by the two of you both. you awkwardly settled near him, staring at your lap with your back straight. he didn’t seem to mind, leaning back into the leather cushion. he pressed a few buttons on the remote and a classic christmas rom-com started up.

reluctantly, you leaned back against the couch. thoma’s arm rested on the back of the couch, dangerously close to your shoulder. your back was still pin-straight and your hands quivering in your lap. leaning over, your friend whispered worriedly. “are you still cold?” he asked. “i can grab a blanket, or turn up the thermostat–”

“thoma, really, i’m fine,” you mumbled, ducking your head to focus once more

placing a hand on your shoulder, he pulled you close and flush against his body. you could feel his heart thump steadily under the palm of your hand, and you prayed that he couldn’t feel your own.“there. all better,” he smiled, green eyes crinkling encouragingly.

you stayed like that for the rest of the movie, heart thumping throughout. you felt guilty that you couldn’t watch something that had left the rest of your friends in tears. even the ever polite ayaka had a couple tears in her eyes. instead, you focused on everything else. thoma’s tree was nicely decorated with silver tinsel, red and gold ornaments, and a shining star topper. his fireplace was comforting to listen to and be by, almost like you could fall asleep in his arms. and as you glanced at your friends, you knew that they saw you two cozied next to one another.

as the credits rolled, yoimiya was the first to groan. “it’s not fair! why did the best friend not get with her?! the love interest is so boring!” she huffed, stretching and rolling her shoulders. “thoma, i’m picking the movie at our new years’ eve party.”

“i still thought it was good! they moved out of the city and had a little winery in the countryside. i loved it!” he exclaimed, securely gripping his hand onto your shoulder for emphasis. “y/n, did you like it?”

snapping up straight and putting your hands in your lap, you looked at him. “oh–yeah, of course, i did. i love any movie you pick,” you replied, immediately turning away from him to hide your flustered expression.

“i have to say, y/n was distracted by something else throughout the movie, so their opinion isn’t reliable,” gorou shrugged.

“aww, you guys are so serious. hallmark movies are the best type of sappy, romance films to watch in winter! doesn’t make you feel warm and fuzzy inside?”

kokomi smiled a little at him. “while cliche and overdone, it felt nice to watch something like this. sometimes, you need a good rom-com like this to set the mood.”

“see, she gets it!” he pouted before shaking his head. looking out the window, the snow was beginning to reach dangerously high levels. “uh-oh. seems like this snowstorm is turning into more of a blizzard than anything. let’s sort out presents, and then you can all be on your way.”

your friends divvied up the presents, each forming a sizeable pile. you laughed at each of the adorable packages, each box and bag’s decorations telling you exactly who gave it. as the last cups of cocoa were finished off, you watched from afar as your friends got up to get their coats. “hey,” thoma said behind you, making the presents in your hands jumble. “you’ve been really quiet today. are you sure everything is okay?”

“yeah, no, everything’s just fine,” you replied, scratching the back of your neck. “just still a little cold, i guess.”

he rubbed your forearm encouragingly. “i’ll be sure to make you something before you head out. how does hot chocolate sound?”

as everyone slipped into their jackets, you placed your gifts down on the stairs in the foyer to grab your own. thoma handed everyone their gloves and scarves, lecturing them on how they’re going to catch a cold. as you finally began to bundle up, ayato spoke up. “hey, we better head out,” he said, eyeing you to the side and stuffing his hands into his gray coat. “you know, i think y/n may need some help getting their presents into their car.”

making a face, you wanted to elbow him. “what? no, i’m fine, ayato–” you interrupted but thoma perked up.

“oh, you’re so right,” the blond nodded in agreement. ayaka hid her smile behind her blue gloved hand, and yoimiya nearly doubled over. “ah…but i should make you that hot chocolate first, right?”

“while you do that, i will assist everyone else in getting their presents into their vehicles. you two should hurry up on that drink before things start to get worse out here,” kazuha smiled with a mischievous grin, and your jaw dropped. never would you think that your quiet friend would egg you on! kokomi let out a small giggle at the motion and gorou tried to hide his smile under his patterned scarf. “well, as you were.”

“don’t worry! i’ll just wrap things up here, but i’ll see you guys out,” he nodded vigorously as you looked at everyone else exasperatedly. as all of your friends began to head out, you and thoma stood at the doorway waving. “bye! drive slowly and be safe! call me if you need anything!” he chirped, completely oblivious to the situation at hand.

“bye, guys! see you next week!” you cheered with gritted teeth. the eldest kamisato let out a short laugh at your expression, before hopping into his car.

shutting the door, you shivered once more, to which thoma started to be very concerned. “really, you seem to be cold all the time, y/n. are you sure you don’t have a fever? or are capable of driving out there?”

“i already told you, i’m just fine,” you reassured. “geez, that’s the third time you’ve asked.”

“i worry for you,” he replied earnestly as he walked back into the kitchen. “and i know if i were in the same situation, you would be doing the same as i am. it’s what friends are for, right?”

“friends…” you echoed softly. “right.”

you sat on thoma’s counter, watching as he grabbed a package of cocoa mix and marshmallows. the kitchen hood’s lights were the only ones on in the room, casting everything in a golden light. “it was so nice seeing everyone again,” he grinned. “it’s hard to get us all together at once. even then, most of the time, it’s just you and me.”

“yeah. especially kazuha; he’s always out and about. the last time i asked if he was coming home, he was in fontaine! crazy, right?”

“haha, can’t deny that,” he laughed as he stirred up your drink and poured it into a tumbler. he decorated it with marshmallows, making a smiley face, before capping it. “there you are. hopefully, you won’t be so cold on your way home now.”

you hopped off the counter, fingertips brushing his own as you retrieved the cup. “thanks, thoma,” you grinned, looking into his harlequin eyes. he chuckled sheepishly, cheeks dusting red.

he escorted you to the door. like a gentleman, he carried all of your presents for you in his arms while you placed a hand on the doorknob. “hey, thanks again, thoma,” you said as you clicked the lock open. “i really app–”

as soon as you opened the door, a strong gust of snowflakes entered, knocking off one of the ribbons on your presents. peeking over the stack, thoma frowned. “archons, you can’t see a thing out there. you can’t drive in those conditions, y/n. there might be some ice out there.”

blinking in surprise, you were firm on your ground. “n-no, i’ll be alright,” you reassured. “i’ll be extra slow on the road and text you when i get home.”

“hmm, and the fact that you’re feeling really cold today,” he hummed thoughtfully. suddenly, he perked up and shut the door close with his foot. “i don’t want to send you out in weather like this. so, how about you stay with me for the night?”

eyes widening, you nearly dropped your tumbler. so this is what your friends had been planning. “what?”

“it’s genius, right?” he said, taking your presents with him into the kitchen. he then strode into the living room. his eyebrows were raised encouragingly. “you stay here and then i won’t have to worry if you’re stranded in hypothermic weather. the others made it out there early and all live only a couple of blocks away so i don’t worry for them. but you live on the other side of the city, and i’m right here, so why not?”

“thoma, i really can’t burden you like this,” you began, but he was already placing your gifts under the tree.

standing up straight and placing his hands on your shoulders, he looked you in the eye. “you’re never a burden,” he affirmed. “and besides, are you that reluctant to spend the night with me?”

“what, no, of course not!” you shook your head. more often than not, after hanging out for the day, thoma was the one to drop you off at your apartment and head back home. the thought of being alone with him on a night like this was very flustering. clearing your thought, you fiddled with your fingers. “it’s just that it’s christmas eve, and you’re probably busy tomorrow, and–”

“y/n, i live alone. and the rest of my family is in mondstadt right now. do you really think i have anything to do tomorrow other than watch reruns of more hallmark movies?” he countered with an eyebrow. reluctantly, you conceded. “then it’s settled. you’re staying for the night!”

“fine,” you said. “but at least let me help clean up.” he whooped in response.

the two of you cleaned the kitchen without a word between you, listening to the vinyl spin a classic song. as he rolled up his sleeves to put away some mugs, you placed the dirty dishes in the dishwasher and turned it on. when all was said and done, you watched as thoma whistled along. he stopped when he noticed you stared at him, flushing. “sorry,” he apologized with bashful cheeks, but you were quick to wave a hand.

“n-no worries,” you coughed out.

an awkward silence filled the space between you, both embarrassed from your conversation. thankfully, thoma was the one to break the ice. “since we’re both here, and we both gave one another gifts, how do you feel about opening them?”

“sounds good to me,” you nodded.

you walked to the living room, where you sat down by the christmas tree. even though the christmas lights and fireplace were the only sources of light, they created a comforting ambiance. thoma settled beside you, crossing his legs. you pulled his gift out of your stack first, which was wrapped in red paper and gold ribbon. yours was decorated in white paper with a red bow. “you first,” he insisted, nudging your foot.

grinning, you held it in your hands. taking off the bow, you unraveled the present. underneath the paper were a polaroid camera and a small album. “you had always been talking about getting one,” he said behind his tucked knees. “i went ahead and added something special to it in the album. do you like it?”

you flipped open the white photo album to the first page, where a picture of thoma in front of the christmas tree was. he was grinning, eyes and nose crinkled in an expression you loved dearly. letting out a little laugh, you smiled at him. “oh, thoma, i love it! thank you so much!” you beamed and embraced him. he chuckled, returning the touch with equal fervor. when you pulled away, you were quick to look at the present in his lap. “you next!” you encouraged.

“alright, alright, so pushy,” he snickered. he shook the box slightly, testing its weight. “did you get me dumbbells? this thing is so heavy…”

his hands tore open the wrapping paper to reveal a brand new baking set tied up in a red bow. gasping, he admired the metal pans and tools. “no way!” he grinned, staring at the set. “how did you know?! i’ve been needing a new set since forever!”

“do you like it?” you asked bashfully.

“like it?! i love it!” he said, putting the gift aside and wrapping you in his arms. you hugged him back, hands holding tight to his sweater. he squeezed you so tightly that you ended up beneath him, back still encased his hands. you didn’t notice at first, too overwhelmed by his hug. when his eyes opened, he hovered above you and blinked. “oh! sorry!” he said, helping up back up. you couldn’t even look at him, too flustered by the situation.

to put aside your embarrassment, you piped up, “it’s getting pretty late. i’ll clean up here, and you can head to bed.”

he almost looked like he would agree before making a face. “hey, no can do, y/n. first of all, i’m doing clean-up and second of all, you’re taking my bed. and before you argue, no, you aren’t a burden for taking my bed. really, it’s no big deal.”

“and you, sleeping on the couch? absolutely not,” you countered, crossing your arms. “you are way too nice.”

“well then, i guess it’s time for a compromise. since you don’t seem like you’re going to budge either, we’re sharing the bed,” he huffed out with a grin. before you could even respond, his hands were already full with the scraps of wrapping paper and ribbon. “head upstairs, and my room is the first door on the left. i was going to give you a knitted sweater, but i decided to give you a polaroid camera instead, so that’s by my closet. and the door by the closet is the bathroom.”

“you’re impossible,” you teased, elbowing him on your way out.

“i could say the same!” he hollered as you headed for the stairs.

upstairs, you navigated yourself to his bedroom. it felt wrong to enter without him beside you. despite being close friends, you had never been in his room, preferring to be downstairs. you pushed the door open, revealing a fairly neat bedroom. at one end of the bedroom was another fireplace, accompanied by a coffee table and pair of chairs. to the north were the windows, where wreaths hung and the string of lights provided luminescence. at the other end of the bedroom was his actual bed and closet. the scent of vanilla and gingerbread was in the air, just like him.

reluctantly, you approached his closet and opened it. in typical thoma fashion, it was organized and clean. sure enough, like he said, there was a knitted sweater in the very middle of the closet. it was a red sweater with small white letters on the front, but it was too dark to read. the texture was soft and comforting; you would need to ask him where he got the yarn from.

after you freshened yourself up in the bathroom, you yawned as you looked out the window. the snow still hadn’t let up, sticking against the window. the streetlights could barely be seen, flickering on and off like a candle in the dark. the wind howled outside, sending the whole house groaning.

after a moment, the door creaked open. thoma arrived through the door, stretching slightly before pausing. he stopped for a moment and even the faint lights of the room couldn’t hide his reddened ears. “oh, wow,” he whispered.

blinking, you tilted your head. “is something on my face?” you asked.

“n-no! it’s just that, um, you look really nice!” he stuttered, face completely flushed. his eyes diverted from you immediately, awkwardness settled on his face.

he was quick to grab something out of the closet and slipped into the bathroom. you sat and covered your face, composure thrown completely out the window. even though you knew he only meant it as a platonic compliment, it still made your heartbeat incredibly fast.

thoma was in and out in a flash, coming out with his hair down and bundled up in fleece pajamas. as he yawned, he settled down on one side of the bed and motioned towards you. “c’mere,” he whispered and you sat up straight. reluctantly, you stood at the other side of the bed, staring him down with nervous eyes. comfortingly, he tilted his head. “if you don’t feel okay with this, the couch is always an option for me–”

“as if!” you exclaimed before diving beside him. as you hid under the covers, you heard him chime out with laughter. slowly, you peeked your eyes above the bedsheets, where thoma looked at you from above with an amused expression. his eyes crinkled before laying beside you, “good night,” he said aloud, and you can barely muster a reply out.

the two of you lay rigidly next to one another, taking in shaky breaths. two hours ago, you would have never imagined that you were going to be sleeping beside your best friend and crush for almost a year. the thought sent your head in overdrive, and you wanted to stuff your head into a pillow and scream.

after a few minutes, you begin to relax. the exhaustion of the day had finally set in, and the bed was too soft and relaxing to not fall asleep in. before you can, thoma piped up. “y/n, are you still awake?” he whispered, breaking the silence. you weren’t sure if you had heard him correctly in your sleepy haze, so you didn’t bother to answer him. “ah, good.”

“even if it was on accident, i’m really happy that you’re beside me,” he began to ramble. “you know…when you were shivering and silent all throughout the party, i got really worried. i’m happy that it just ended up being about the cold. i’m also glad you didn’t convince me to drive out in that weather; when i think of what might have happened, i get worried.”

he paused for a moment, and you’re fully awake now, heart thumping rapidly.“to be honest, i love just being by you. your energy is captivating, and i strive to be more and more like you every day. and, not to forget, you’re probably the most beautiful person i’ve ever met, inside and out. no, not probably. definitely.”

you felt like you were reading thoma’s secret diary at this point, and your hands became clammy with guilt. “i wish i could confess to you right now. eventually, i’ll have to, but for now, i’m just happy being your friend. to be friends with the most amazing person is enough for me. but…i love you.”

he let out a pitiful laugh. “i’ll say that when you’re awake one day. good night, y/n,” there was another pause, and then he shifted onto his side.

your body was frozen, and it was not because of the weather or temperature of the bedroom. you tried to process his words, piecing them together to get the fact that thoma said “i love you” to you.

you really wanted to stuff your head into a pillow and scream now.

as thoma began to softly snore, your mind was busy weighing the options. thoma had affirmed his love for you, but was it because you were dreaming? or was he the one dreaming and sleeping? no matter what option you picked, you wouldn’t be able to sleep unresolved.

rolling on your side, you looked at thoma’s back. with as much fortitude as you could muster, you put a hand on his shoulder. lazily, he turned to you, face half-covered by his pillow. “mhm?” he asked, yawning. “did you need something?”

“thoma, i…” you started before trailing off. taking a sharp breath in, he looked at you with genuine concern. “i love you too.”

his harlequin eyes widened in shock, before proceeding to hide behind his pillow. “you heard all of that?!” he whined. “i thought you were asleep!”

“i thought i was dreaming, too,” you replied bashfully, also ducking behind your pillow. “did you really mean it? that you loved me?”

pursing his lips, he sighed. “i did. i just didn’t expect it to go like this,” he muttered, placing his chin on the cushion and flattening it. “i was supposed to tell you at a fancy dinner date.”

“you’re so cheesy. dinner date? really? you’ve been watching too many rom-coms,” you teased before shoving his shoulder.

he only wrapped an arm around your waist and slotted his head into your neck. thoma pouted, “you’re no fun. but i guess that you’re mine, so does it really matter?”

you covered your face with your hands, even more flustered than before. “thoma! when did you become so smooth?!” you exclaimed. he only laughed, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

the blizzard finally stopped, letting moonlight bask onto his face. he looked ethereal in this light, and you couldn’t believe he was all yours. sighing happily, you pressed a hand to his cheek. even though your apartment was on the other side of the city, you felt at home nestled beside him.

before you could close your eyes and relax in your newfound lover’s arms, you sat up in realization. he looked at you with a raised eyebrow. “what is it?” he asked gently, arms still wrapped around your waist. making a face, you looked at him.

“do you maybe think that our friends left us together knowing that this would happen?”

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iamconstantlyinpain · 13 days ago

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James and Oliver Phelps doing some cake arts n crafts 🧁

12/27/2024

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iamconstantlyinpain · 13 days ago

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the things we left unspoken

pairing: george x fem!reader

word count: 1.4k

warning(s): angst, breakups, substance abuse

desc: wrote this years ago and never published it and then went through one of the most horribly confusing and heart-rending breakups ever! there’s not a whole ton of my old fic writer friends are still here so this is going to hit a new audience if there is still a weasley twins audience on here – hi, i’m erica, i wrote obsessively for the weasley twins years back. sometimes i still do, for my own enjoyment. though this one hurts and george sucks. i don’t normally do that because i’m in love with him but this is a bit different. sorry

Age 23, Present Day

“No… How dare you come here and tell me this now?”

George feels his chest constrict a bit; his breathing is heavy, as if he’s just run a marathon, which he certainly feels like. It has taken him every bit of his strength to not come to your doorstep and admit to something he should have years ago. He’s absolutely bloody exhausted from fighting an internal battle with himself for this long.

In all of your years aside one another, he’d never quite seen you so angry as this. Your mouth, otherwise normally twisted into some lopsided smile, is now in a thin, firm line. Your jaw is tensed, and he knows from all of those evenings next to you in bed that you’re certainly clenching your teeth because of the stress you surely are feeling from him showing up unannounced. He wishes not to know that. Or actually, if he’s being honest, he wishes that he still spent that time with you in bed, and instead of grinding your teeth together, you’d giggle open-mouthed as he’d press ticklish kisses to the space between your collarbones. Your eyes are ocean blue and stormy and grey at the same time, and he doesn’t quite relish the idea of mustering up any strength he has left to whether the ups and downs of the impending tide.

Though you’re standing your ground, he sees your lip wobble just a smidge and it sends daggers straight through his heart. He swore that day, the day when everything had blown up, that he would never, ever make you cry again. It was the day he thought would be the worst of his life. How painfully wrong he was. Your voice is wobbly now, too. “You had no right to come here and say these things.”

You’re right, of course. He knows that. He doesn’t have any right. He’d lost that privilege the evening you’d taken every stolen glance, every evening kiss, every morning after and laid them out in front of you both, tangled in the web of your own vulnerability. He’d lost any and all privileges when it came to you, when he’d turned everything down, pretending that he didn’t feel exactly the same way you did, pretending it wasn’t what it truly was. Pretending he didn’t love you. He’s so stupid, wasn’t he? Though of course, he’d only rejected them because he thought he’d be protecting you.

Keep reading

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iamconstantlyinpain · 13 days ago

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Birthday Boys

It’s Fred and George’s birthday, and you wanted to give them something very special. It’s hard to give them something like that, but you are married to them for a reason. As if they would ever settle for someone boring, now would they?

Warnings: 18+, Double Penetration (A and V), teasing, breeding, overstimulation, dirty talk, birthday suits ((hehe)) lipstick kink(?) and of course Fred Lives. Because I said so ((George still missing an ear tho! Bleh-!))

“Well what’s this?” George would blink, as a paper airplane would land itself on his desk. Fred would raise a brow, as he set down the ink he had grabbed for his younger twin. It’s April First. The ever busiest day of the year, and their birthday as well. That meant they were swamped with work, and just trying to finish the day. The shop may be closed, now, but damn they were still drowning.

“Don’t just stare at it, open it up-!” Fred would bonk the younger twin, with his wand, making him fix at his hair. He would give a grumble, as he unfolded the neat little parchment. By the hand writing alone, he knew it was from you. What was written made him a bit flushed in the cheeks. Always was the more emotional of the two, so Fred was quick to look over his shoulder. Reading along.

To my special Birthday Boys. You two have been working so hard all day. Such a wonderful occasion deserves a present, doesn’t it? I better expect you to leave paper work for later, and hurry up to our bedroom. It gets rather chilly being all alone. I don’t want your present to get cold either. Not when I worked so hard to wrap it all up so nicely in purples and oranges. If you don’t want it, I’ll be more than happy to make use of it all myself. Sincerely yours~!

Never had they side alone aparated so fast in their life. Gave you quite the startle, to suddenly see them. You should have figured they wouldn’t waste time, but boy they move fast. Even after all these years together, it catches you by surprise. Though, this time they were the ones with wide eyes this time around.

There you were, in the middle of the bed, dressed to the nines. A array of orange, and purple, fabric against your skin. Stockings of lace. Done up so pretty to mimic that of a fire work, with little dots all around. The fingerless arm length gloves had to be, as to help bring focus to how bare the rest of you were. Nothing else to your skin, but your own birthday suit. Besides so heavy makeup, because you knew they loved it when it got all ruined. What really sold it was the bows all over you. Around your thighs, wrists, neck, just for the comical effect of a birthday present. Hey, it’s April Fools. Gotta get silly.

“H-“ Before you could get a single syllable out, they were on you. Like starving dogs. Clothes were flying, and your body was quick to be sandwiched between the two men. Your neck attacked in kisses, and their ever rough hands trailing your skin. Tracing all the invisible lines they had tracked on you.

“Guess you like the surprise-?” You joked, as you were leaning yourself against Fred. While George was enjoying your front. Sucking plenty of hickies on your skin, while Fred was enjoying playing with your nipples. Had you squeak, and flush, as he was enjoying the happily given toy.

“Taking that as a yes-“ You sighed, as you were just a meal for the wolves. Wolves that always had your flavor of flesh in mind. It just felt so good to be so desired. To be wanted so badly, it could hurt. Especially after such an exhausting day, they needed to get that pent up steam out.

“Been thinking about you all day long-“ George would sigh, as he stole your lips into his own. Happily allowing your lipstick to stain his own, while your hips rubbed onto the building hard on in Fred’s lap. Just a tangle of wild limbs, and you couldn’t have loved anything more.

“Come on, save some for me. Give em here-“ And you would be stolen by Fred next. Making sure he got his lips stained all the same. George didn’t complain, as he would let the lipstick residue trail over your exposured chest. Designing you, as Fred let his tongue do any talking he had left.

You enjoyed the sensual, and slow, pace. Made you fall into the mood far easier. But, you knew why they were being so gentle. Gentle starts always ended with you drooling and utterly delirious. They were going to destroy you, to your core, and that had you so hopeful.

“Just look at you.” They breathed, in unison, as you were just a doll in their hands. Your body leaning into Fred’s, with his legs spread to make sure you were comfortable. Meanwhile George was above you, on his knees, and taking in the sight. Just starving for you, while Fred was busy with the bedside table. Making sure to grab some lube, as you realized what you signed up for.

“Don’t say I never treat you.” That had them laugh, at your comment. Sweet little feathery kisses were given to your face, and neck, while the line was passed to each other. Slicking themselves up, before using the residue to make sure you were nice and comfortable. A thank you, for such a wonderful present.

“Wrapped up in such a pretty bow.” Fred sighed, as he stuck two fingers inside of you. That had you bite your lip, before the mimicking motion from George made it slip out. Fred was in your ass, and George was in your core. Able to copy each other’s movements in perfect unison. Some call it disturbing, you call it heaven.

“Damn, wet as hell. Don’t even need lube. We’re so excited to get to be our gift, weren’t you? Isn’t that sweet Fred-?” “Oh the ever sweetest George. We love it when you get excited. Gets us excited.” They echoed each other, while making sure to lather as much as they could. Knowing you would need it, and still remembering to put your needs first. Just gentle motions, as they made sure to cover as much as two fingers could. Teasing away at your sensitive spots, just to make you squirm.

“I can’t wait any more.” “Couldn’t have said it better myself.” And like that, the fingers were removed. You whined at it, which made them smirk. Now, you were feeling them pressed against you. They planned to go in, at the exact same time. It made your heart race. To imagine, being stuffed so quickly.

“How about we-“ But they broke through the tight barrier, and your mind was mush. Not so much from pain, just the over whelming sensation of being so full. To feel your insides grow so tight, as your muscles were being pulled yet pushed at the same time. Was a fluttery experience. Somehow so light, yet couldn’t be heavier.

“Fuck fuck fuck-“ You heard Fred whisper into your ear, while your blurry eyes could make out that George was hardly able to keep his own open. Biting into his stained lip, as to not whimper too early. To last, but damn. You knew he was fighting for his life.

Once they were both fully inside, the three of you just stayed that way. A mixture of wanting to make sure you were adjusted, and them not wanting to end the game so soon. How embarrassing that would be. Least that meant you were being pampered. With heavy breathing, and wet kisses on your skin. A means to help you relax, and it worked.

“Lucky me, I get to be the first one to pump you full. Isn’t that nice of Fred? To let me be the one to pump your little womb full?” That had your face burn. Yeah, you three were trying, but none of you exactly went into to much details on how such a thing would plan out. Given Magic was involved, with everything, isn’t a dumb guess to think these two will somehow knock you up at the same time. Just made you all the more flushed, as Fred would rub over your stomach.

“Don’t worry. When he’s done with you, we will switch. I can’t just waste it all in your ass. I love that cute thing, but I love you being full of out kids more.” Fred moaned, as he finally moved his hips. Just in time with George’s. The feeling of two at once, in different holes. Truly a fuzzy experience.

Your hands found George’s shoulders, while Fred grabbed your legs. Keeping you spread as wide as they could, as they rocked their hips into you. Such perfect calculations to make sure your mind stayed in that blissful fuzz. Was leaving you with your nails into Georges skin.

“Come on, love. You gotta moan louder for me. I’m missing an ear over here. Give me some noise-!” George cackled, as Fred took that as a que to pick up the pace. Your head was rolling itself back, and leaned on Fred’s shoulder. Giving George exactly what he wanted, after all. Louder moans, whimpers, gasps, and plenty of smacking flesh to fill in between.

“So cock drunk, and the night hardly started.” Fred teases, as he bit into your shoulder. Needing to steady himself, but the feeling was too much. George would have agreed, if it were vocal. They were getting sloppy with their movements, and you wouldn’t last long either. Especially since George was now planting sloppy kisses against your lips. Leaving you two a jumble mess of spit and moans.

Hearing their desperate breaths, and whimpers of trying to hold on, it was what brought you over the edge. By proxy, your tightening grip in your body had them gasp. Their hips stuttering, as they came inside of you. Throbbing, and having a shake in their system.

Riding it out was such a warm feeling. Felt like everything was on fire, in all the best ways. Already so exhausted, and ready to just sleep, but….They weren’t making any April fools joke with you. Just as your eyes closed, they moved.

You have a squeak, before a breathy moan, as they pulled out. Left such a mess between all your legs, before you were flipped around. Your hands now on Fred’s chest, and ass presented to George. Out right lining up again.

“Perk-A-Boo~!” Fred teases, as he poked your nose. Just as you wiggled it, they thrusted right back into you. The stimulation of being restuffed was mind melting. Right after your high, and with so much already running down your legs. The sounds of all made were so loud, and wet. Was utterly thrilling.

Fred was happy to drink in your moans, hogging as many kisses as he could. Meanwhile George was happily feeling over your hips. Letting those hard working hands trace the lipstick marks shared between them both.

“Don’t do poor Georgie like that, come on. You gotta moan a little louder. His hearing isn’t so good.” Fred would tease, as he forced your chin up. Trying to amplify your desperate sounds. It was all too much. You were going to reach your peak again, with tears running down your face. Smearing away the remains of your makeup.

“Just hang on a little more. I want to make sure I get nice and deep in there.” Fred comforted, as George planted kisses down your back. Making sure your skin was covered in whatever remained of their lips.

Everything was so blurry, but you knew this. You came again, and your insides were coated once more. The ringing in your ears were dancing with the shakey moans of your lovers. So happy, and satisfied, with wrecking you so much.

When you came back to reality, you realized the lingerie you wore was gone. Seems they made sure to give you a sponge bath, before they were knocked out. You between them, as they snuggled you.

Fred behind you, as he held your stomach. Ever a man that loved feeling your ass against him. Meanwhile George was infront of you, tangling your legs together, as he snuck his arms just above Fred’s. His face under your chin, so he could listen to your heart beat.

“Happy birthday, you two.” You whispered, as you made sure they both were kissed on their heads. Freckled smiles crossed their lips, as they snuggled closer. Fred, enjoying his nose in your neck, while George gave you a squeeze. Maybe you should gift wrap yourself more often.

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iamconstantlyinpain · 13 days ago

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blow your mind (mwah) // fred weasley

Summary: No matter how hard you try to fight it, Fred Weasley always manages to slip into your mind, trying to get a reaction out of you.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Legilimens!Reader

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: banter, flirting, fluff, fred weasley is a menace

A/N: As always, remember English is not my first language. Also, Thanks to @clawaraven for proofreading this!

This was a request by anon! I'm back writing after almost two years hiatus, I'm a bit rusty but hopefully you'd like this one!!

harry potter masterlist

Born as a Legilimens, you had the ability to dive into the minds of those around you—a skill you had learned how to use from a young age, at the behest of your parents. But, if we were honest, it wasn’t an ability you were thrilled about. Yes, you had to admit there were occasions where it came in handy, but overall, you’d never liked prying into other people’s thoughts, especially without their knowledge or consent, as you considered it a huge invasion of their privacy and a violation of trust.

But Fred Weasley was different, since the moment you met the older twin his mind had been a challenge. You'd never encountered such a relentless and loud mind before. It was impossible to ignore. No matter how hard you tried to fight it, somehow his thoughts always ended up seeping into yours.

Fred was fully aware of this—of the effect he had on you. He reveled in it. He enjoyed riling you up with his endless teasing and flirting, and his signature playfulness that made your heart race each time.

You were lying on one of the sofas in the Gryffindor common room, golden rays peeking through the tall windows casting warm rays onto the red and gold furniture. A book was resting in your lap, but your attention wasn't anywhere near the words filling the pages. Instead, your attention was caught up by Fred, who was seated a few feet away, engaged in a conversation with George and Lee—probably discussing the next prank they were gonna pull on Filch.

“Look at her… Why does she have to be so pretty? I wonder how she’d react if I—”

You winced internally, putting your fingers to your temples as if that would stem the tide of his thoughts. You had to focus. It was just Fred. At this point, you should be used to his flirting and antics. It wasn’t unusual for him to try to make you flustered.

But Fred had a knack for sensing when you were reading him, and when he glanced your way, with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes, his thoughts shifted, becoming even more deliberate, as if he was playing a game he intended to win. You could even sense the confidence flooding through him.

“Aw, look at you, getting all flustered over me.”

“Can you stop thinking about me?” You grumbled, even though you felt a tingling in your chest—a mixture of embarrassment and delight.

“Asking me not to think about you is like asking me not to breathe,” he retorted, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “How could I ignore the prettiest girl in Hogwarts?”

“You’re insufferable,” you muttered, trying to return your attention to the pages of your book, yet you felt completely distracted by his presence and the feeling of his gaze over you.

For a fleeting moment, there was silence, and a glimmer of hope dawned upon you that maybe—just maybe—you had finally managed to quiet his incessant teasing.

But of course, this was Fred Weasley.

“You have totally thought about us… alone. Am I right?”

Your heart was pounding, and each beat was a reminder of the nerves fluttering in your stomach. You were about to burst into exasperation at his antics. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” he replied, feigning innocence. “But can you blame me? You look so cute when you get all shy and flustered.”

Your breath caught up as your mind reeled. His gaze was locked on you. His intention was clear. He was studying your reaction—waiting for you to crack. You were about to volley a witty remark at him when his next words brought you to a standstill.

“Alright, I’ll be a good boy. I can see it’s hard for you not to peek into my mind, so how can I make it easier for you?”

“Oh, Godric!” You shot back. “You should have a caution warning. Just stop screaming your thoughts at me.” You complained, although a smile was growing on your face. The heat radiating from your cheeks now burned all the way to the tips of your ears. It was completely unfair that he could make you so nervous just by being his annoying self. “How am I supposed to ignore that?”

“Maybe you should embrace it instead. Besides, who would not like to have Fred Weasley thinking about them all the time?”

“Seriously, Fred, is it possible you could be more egotistical?” You retorted, trying to mask your laughter with irritation, but it was in vain.

“You know it takes one to know one. Borrow some of my charms, huh? And look, it only makes you more charming!”

“More like annoying,” you snorted, though the smile that tugged at your lips gave you away. “Someone needs to put a sock in it.”

“Maybe I could put a sock in it if you put your lips to better use,” he teased, his tone flirtatious, as his thoughts became a smug whisper in your mind.

“You look so good, princess; I bet you taste even better.”

“Seriously, Fred!” You were almost whining at this point, between wanting to retort and wanting to crawl under the couch out of sheer embarrassment. “Why do you insist on making it so difficult for me?”

“Because it’s fun!” he laughed mischievously. “And let’s face it, watching you get so worked up is on my list of favorite things. Along with chocolate frogs and playing pranks on Filch.”

“Nice list of priorities, Weasley.” You murmured, rolling your eyes. And even though you were slightly annoyed an involuntary smile still crept on your face. This was another talent of Fred Weasley—making you smile even when you weren’t supposed to. It was impossible to deny how he made your pulse race, not just with his thoughts, but with his undeniable charm.

While George and Lee tried to contain their laughter at your exchange, Fred shot up from his seat, swaggering over to you, deliberately invading your personal space. “So, what’s it gonna be Y/N/N? Are you going to sit there and let me rattle your thoughts? Or do you have a comeback that’ll impress even me?”

“Maybe I’ll conjure a silencing charm just for you,” you sarcastically quipped back, but as you spoke, your breath caught in your throat at the look in his eyes. His eyes shone with an uncontrollable emotion that made you wonder what was really behind his incessant teasing.

And like if he was the one with the ability of reading minds, the words stumbled out his lips: “I only want to make you laugh, you know? I wouldn’t trade your reactions for anything.”

You couldn’t deny the way his words warmed something deep inside you. You appreciated the light he brought to your days, even if it did come with the occasional dose of annoyance and embarrassment.

“You really have to turn it down a notch,” you said, attempting to sound stern, but your voice came out far too soft to be convincing.

“Where's the fun in that?”

“Just think about it,” His words brushed against the edges of your mind with a teasing whisper. “Us. This sofa. Maybe some chocolate frogs. A few kisses…”

The air around you thickened, a tangible tension building.

“You’re never going to stop, are you?”

“Let’s be honest, Y/N/N. Probably not. You know how much I enjoy it.”

You fell silent, contemplating his words along with the thrill they induced.

“Okay, let’s make a deal. I’ll tone it down if you promise to let me take you out sometime,” he proposed, closing the space even more, leaning against the armrest of the couch where you were lying.

Your heart skipped a beat at his suggestion. The idea of stepping beyond your friendly banter into something more made your stomach flutter. “What exactly do you mean by ‘take me out’?”

“How about Hogsmeade this weekend? We buy some of those chocolate frogs, grab a few butterbeers at the Three Broomsticks.” Although his signature playful smile was plastered across his face, his voice was filled with sincerity.

You contemplated his offer, and the words tumbled out before you could stop yourself. “I mean… I’ve thought about it, but… You’re a bit of a handful.”

“Ah, but I’m your handful.”

You would have retorted, hitting him with a witty comeback, but your brain seemed to have decided to stop functioning correctly, and all you could feel was your defenses melting under his hazel gaze.

“Alright, Fred,” you finally relented, trying to keep your voice steady despite the thrill of your heart rate. “But if we do this, you've got to promise to keep those ridiculous thoughts in check.”

“Deal,” he said, his triumphant smile widening. “It’s a date!”

…

“Did he flirt with her in his mind and then ask her out?” Lee mumbled, bewildered. “And she said yes?”

George chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “Seems he finally aced it.”

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iamconstantlyinpain · 13 days ago

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A Christmas Gift | G.W.

“That's what happens when you love someone,” George replied, smiling. “You want to protect them from anything that might hurt them, even if you know you can't.”

feat. George Weasley x fem!reader

SUMMARY: You go to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes to pick out a Christmas gift for your ailing little brother, who adored the shop (and the twins) before he became too ill to go. You find a gift and so much more than you ever dreamed of.

CW: this is really emotional, i’m sorry, but i pinky promise that it has a happyish ending. fred is dead, grief, hurt/comfort, hospital visits, sick sibling/children, some swearing, but also some fun and lightheartedness, plenty of christmasy fluff, first kisses

AN: last Christmas fic of the season!

The early morning snow buffeted at your back as you stepped into Weasely Wizard Wheezes. The store had just opened, you saw someone turn the sign as you finished your breakfast at the Three Broomsticks, but you wanted to beat the holiday rush so you could really take your time.

The smell of cinnamon and woodsmoke, plastic toys and what could only be described as joy, welcomed you inside. An enormous Christmas tree hung upside down from the ceiling, decorated in orange, purple, and gold, with handmade ornaments over every branch and popcorn strings strewn around it. Every shelf was stocked and festively decorated, and soft Christmas music played from the speakers.

You stopped in the doorway, tears welling in your eyes. Your brother would love this. You had hoped that he’d be having a good day today, that maybe, by some miracle, he’d be well enough to come with you. But he’d spiked a fever late last night, and was going in for some imaging today to ensure he hadn’t caught pneumonia…again.

“Morning,” a voice called to you, and you looked up, hastily wiping tears on your sleeve. George Weasley, a man you’d never met but would recognize anywhere, was halfway down the spiral staircase, a cup of coffee in hand. He was dressed in the iconic pinstripe suit, his copper hair a little longer than the last time you’d seen him two years prior, not that he’d remember.

The only reason you remembered was because of your brothers obsession with the Weasley twins. He’d asked to have his hair cut and dyed orange that same afternoon.

More tears welled up, and you cursed yourself, turning away to hide your face. “I’m sorry,” you sniffled, trying to take a deep breath. “I promise I’m not insane.”

You heard him move the rest of the way down the stairs, then approach you, his tall frame taking him across the store in a few strides. He had a bright purple handkerchief in his hand, the triple W embroidered on the corner.

“That’s okay, we like a little insanity around here. What’s your name?” he asked, his voice soft.

“Y/n.” You accepted the handkerchief with a watery smile and dabbed your eyes.

“George. Are you alright, y/n?” he asked.

You sighed, twisting the fabric in your hands. “The holiday’s are just hard.”

He nodded, his jaw flexing, eyes averting from your face to the floor. “Yeah,” he said, his voice rougher than it had been a moment before. You noticed then the dark circles under his eyes, the air of heaviness around his shoulders. “Can I help you find something?” he asked, pivoting quickly.

“Yes, actually. I’m, uh, looking for a gift for my little brother. But he—it has to be something he can play with in bed. Nothing too loud or messy.” Your heart ached as you said it, knowing he would actually love something loud, messy, destructive, as little boys do, but such things weren’t allowed at St. Mungo’s.

George raised an eyebrow. “Strict parents?”

You shook your head, swallowing around the lump in your throat. “He’s in hospital,” you murmured, hating saying the words aloud.

George’s face fell. “Oh—Merlin, I’m really sorry.”

A flicker of understanding passed between you, your broken hearts beating at the same rhythm for a moment. You knew about the death of his twin, Fred, everyone did, and now he knew your pain as well. That knowledge weaved an invisible string of connection between you, forged in empathy.

“We can absolutely find something for him,” George said, his voice painfully sincere. He offered you his arm and you accepted, needing a bit of steadiness. “What kind of things does he like?”

You started to walk through the store, looking around the towering shelves, at a bit of a loss. “Well, he loves Whizz-bangs, and your Pyrotechtrix.”

George smiled, chuckling to himself. “Fun, but not exactly suitable for a hospital.”

“Exactly. But honestly, anything you recommended, he’d absolutely adore, so long as I told him you recommended it.”

“Oh yeah?” George raised an eyebrow, glancing down at you.

Saints, he’s handsome.

“Yeah, he’s a big fan. He used to beg us to stop in every time we came to Diagon Alley so he could watch your demonstrations.”

George’s smile widened, a flush creeping up his neck. “Well, ah, that’s really—” he scratched the back of his head, clearly flustered by the revelation. “That’s very kind,” he managed with a breathy chuckle.

The door jingled as another customer came in and you tensed, George’s eye flicking towards the new customer, then back down to you.

You moved to slip your arm from his. “I can look around, you go ahead—”

“Oi, Ron!” George shouted, a hand cupped around his mouth, his arm tightening around yours so you stayed put.

“What? I’m sorting inventory!” Ron Weasley shouted back, appearing from the back of the store with arms full of boxes. His eyes quickly scanned over you, your joined arms, then back to George, who was nodding his head towards the door. “Welcome to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes!” Ron turned greeted the customer, dropping the boxes where he stood.

You chuckled, leaning a bit closer to George, grateful that he didn’t abandon you.

“You’re my first priority today,” he murmured to you, close enough that you could smell his amber cologne, and you felt your anxiety unspool for the first time in weeks. For this one thing, this small, Christmas gift hunt, you weren’t alone.

You spent the rest of the morning with George, wandering through aisle after aisle as he talked you through every product you showed an interest in. At first, he seemed reluctant to talk about products with stories tied to Fred, like prodding a sore wound, but eventually he was telling story after story, grinning and laughing at the memories of their countless antics.

He encouraged you to share about your brother as well, and by the end, you were both in stitches from laughing, cheeks sore and eyes watery with tears. It warmed your heart to see him light up at the his brother’s memory, to see the love between them still very much burning, and soothed a bit of your fear.

No matter what happened, the love and the memories would remain.

You finally settled on an Aviatomobile and a few muggle magic tricks, nothing explosive, sticky, or illness-causing. George carried the items to the counter, setting them gently on surface, but hesitated when he reached for the register.

He turned, grabbing a gift box from beneath the counter. Carefully, he wrapped each item in branded tissue paper and nestled them into the box, then rearranged them once, then twice, before finally placing the lid and tying an orange bow around it. Then, he grabbed one of the paper ornaments from the counter, where kids could write little messages or drawings to hang on the gravity-defying Christmas tree, and scribbled something on it before securing it to the bow.

“There we go,” he said, pushing it towards you with a sheepish smile.

You reached for you wallet. “How much do I—”

He shook his head, waving you off. “It’s on me. Least I can do for an avid supporter.”

Tears burned behind your eyes again, caught off guard by his generosity. “George, I can’t—”

“Please, just—let me do this for your brother.” George’s eyes held yours, soft around the corners. “It’s what Fred would do.”

You nodded, unable to speak through the lump in your throat.

“Would you want to, uh, maybe get a drink later? Or coffee?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck, freckled cheeks flushing pink.

You smiled, your heart flipping in your chest. “I’d love to. We could get ice cream at Fortescue's?” You offered.

He smiled back. “Perfect. 7 o’clock?”

“Perfect,” you repeated, fighting a nervous giggle. “I’ll see you later, then.” You hefted the box in your arms and waved goodbye, hurrying out before you said anything embarrassing, or melted into a puddle of goo on the floor.

Halfway down the street, you finally glanced at the paper ornament George attached to the gift.

Sorry, mate. No explosive’s. Sister’s orders. But I’ve got a stash in the back waiting for you when you’re ready. Merry Christmas. - GW

You were fizzing with excitement as you approached the ice cream shop, a soft flurry of snowflakes dancing int the twinkle lights strew across Diagon Alley. Vendors were at every corner, selling steaming beverages, candied nuts, and fried dough. Shoppers wandered from glowing door to glowing door, bundled in thick coats and arms laden with bags. A choir sang Christmas carols on the steps of Gringotts, toads wearing Santa hats cradled in their arms, and you paused to listen while they sang “Carol of the Bells”, trying to collect your scattered mind.

You hadn’t stopped thinking about George for a moment, so wound up that you started getting ready three hours early for a simple ice cream date. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so giddy, so hopeful.

“I like this song,” a familiar voice murmured in your ear and you looked up, finding George standing beside you watching the carolers, the lights reflecting in his brown eyes. He was dressed in a brown wool coat with a Gryffindor scarf around his neck, a white, cable knit sweater and jeans underneath, patches on the knees.

“Me too,” you replied, biting your lips to stop the grin threatening to rise. “How was your day?”

“Chaos. I left Ron to deal with the stragglers. We were supposed to close around six…” he trailed off, his eyes catching on a group of wizards. You followed his eye, and were appalled to find them muttering and pointing at him. And when you looked around, you noticed several groups were doing the same.

Instinctively, you moved closer to him, as if you could shield him somehow.

His fingers twined with yours, warm and calloused. “It’s alright,” he said, turning you to face him. “M’used to it.”

“It’s not alright,” you said, raising your voice and directing a pointed glare at the noisy folks. “It’s rude!”

He chuckled, tugging you away from the carolers. “Easy, love. It doesn’t bother me much anymore. Don’t give them any of your attention.”

You sighed, falling into step beside him, hands still clasped together. “I’m sorry they treat you like that,” you said, glaring daggers at anyone that even glanced in his direction while you walked towards Fortescue's.

“It was worse when we first reopened the shop.” His thumb swiped back and forth across yours, soothing the irritation itching under your skin. “They would come in just to get a look at me. Like my grief was some kind of spectator sport.”

“I can’t imagine having that kind of loss broadcast to the entire world,” you said, glancing at a newspaper stand plastered in the Daily Prophet.

“It’s inhumane,” he replied, stopping in front of the ice cream shop. “But, I’m grateful for it too.”

You raised an eyebrow, facing him in the warm glow of the window.

“Everyone knows how amazing he was,” he murmured, his voice thickening with emotion. He looked down at your joined hands, playing with your fingers. “He’s a hero.”

You squeezed his hand, prompting him to look up at you. “So are you, George," you said, inflecting as much sincerity as you could into your voice. "Y’know, I was there that day, when you and Fred left Hogwarts?”

His eyes widened. “You were?”

You nodded. “I was two years under you, we wouldn’t have crossed paths,” you said, trying to assuage the needless guilt that crossed his face. “But I’ll never forget that moment, watching you guys reclaim the magic that makes Hogwarts, well, Hogwarts. You inspired all of us left behind.”

He gave you a sad smile, his eyes shiny with unshed tears, and brought your knuckles to his lips, brushing a kiss across them. “Thank you for telling me that,” he whispered. “You didn’t get burned, did you?” He asked, worry suddenly creasing his brow.

You giggled. “No, no. No one was hurt besides Umbridge's ego.”

He exhaled, flashing a relieved smile. “Okay, good. Because that would have been a terrible first impression.” He opened the door to the ice cream shop, gesturing for you to step inside.

“My first impression was when you turned Ms. Norris purple during the Halloween feast,” you said, stepping past him and into line, the smell of waffle cones and caramel wafting over you.

George barked a laugh, his head falling back with the force of it, and you smiled. “Better, I suppose.”

“It’s not like I made a great first impression on you, weeping like a sap as soon as I stepped into your store,” you joked, too busy gazing up at his smiling face to notice the line move forward without you.

He shook his head, still chuckling. “No, it was a perfect first impression.”

You ordered your bowls of ice cream, Peppermint Marshmallow Mayhem for George and Gingerbread Dreams for you, and sat at a corner booth by the window, talking about nothing in particular for awhile while you ate.

“So, how’s your brother doing today? You mentioned he had some imaging this afternoon?” George asked, genuine concern creasing his brow.

“He’s doing well, actually. No pneumonia, by Godric’s grace, and his fever broke this afternoon. Still not sure what caused it, but hopefully nothing of concern,” you answered, you heart lifting at his relieved smile.

“Good, I’m really glad to hear that. Now, let me try your ice cream.” He waggled his spoon and you laughed, sliding it towards him. He took the tiniest spoonful, flipping it over to lick it off, and your cheeks warmed at the way his tongue caressed the curve of the spoon.

You knew you were caught when he smirked around the utensil, but he let it slide.

“Here, try mine.” He dug a spoonful out of his bowl, holding it out for you to take a bite with a borderline sinful look in his eye.

“George Weasley,” you teased, shaking your head. “You are such a flirt.”

“Can you blame me? I’m sitting across from my dream woman,” he replied, grinning.

Now your cheeks were really warming, and you leaned forward to take a small bite off the edge of his spoon. Sugary peppermint and creamy marshmallow coated your tongue, and you moaned.

“Good?” he asked, raising a brow.

“Delicious,” you giggled, watching as he ate the rest of the spoonful, and wondered how it would taste on his tongue.

After ice cream, you continued wandering around Diagon Alley, peeking in all the shop windows and sipping warm butter beer, until your noses were pink from the chill, your hair full of glittering snow.

You stopped outside of his shop, the sign flipped to ‘closed’ and only a few lights on inside along with the exterior holiday decor, presumably left on for George.

“I have a confession to make,” he said, stepping a little closer to you.

Your heart pounded in your chest, a thrill of excitement pulsing through you. “What?” You asked, picking invisible lint of his lapel just to have something to do with your hands.

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you since I saw you watching the carolers,” he murmured, sliding his glove off and reaching out to cradle your face, his touch gentle, giving you every opportunity to pull away.

You leaned your head into his large palm, gazing up at him, freckled, flushed, and starry-eyed. You’d never seen someone look at you with adoration before, and it made your soul sing.

Instead of saying anything, you rose onto your toes and pressed your lips to his, a quick, airy peck. But when you went to move back, his hand held you in place, lips just barely touching.

“Again,” he breathed, his other hand coming around to rest on your lower back. “Please?”

You gave the tiniest nod, feeling like your heart might burst out of your chest, and his lips connected with yours again in a slow, languid kiss, the taste of ice cream and butter beer and him making your head go a little fuzzy, your right foot popping up behind you as you leaned into his embrace.

His tongue caressed the seam of your mouth, but he didn’t push further, just a small tease before winding the kiss down until it ended the way it started, with a few barely-there pecks in reluctant departure.

You sighed against him, lowering back onto flat feet, and he smiled, drawing you into his chest for hug. You slipped you arms under his coat, feeling the softness of his sweater and the warmth of his body envelop you.

“Thank you for this,” you murmured. “I really, really needed it.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his arms tight around your body. “So did I. Can we do it again tomorrow? Breakfast? Sunrise picnic?”

You chuckled, tilting your chin up to rest on his sternum. “Breakfast sounds great.”

George beamed, dropping a warm kiss to the frozen tip of your nose. “I’ll pick you up at nine?”

“It’s a date.” You stole one last kiss before slipping away, practically skipping.

You and George saw each other every day for the next week, whether it was to wander around Diagon Alley, looking at the lights and festivities, or grabbing a quick cup of tea between busy shifts. Neither of you could stand being apart for more than a few hours at a time.

Tonight, George invited you to his flat for dinner and muggle Christmas films, and you were dressed in the ugliest Christmas sweater you could find. With a timid hand, you knocked on his door.

It opened under you fist, revealing George on the other side, wearing a maroon sweater with a giant ‘G’ on the front of it and a sauce splattered apron.

“Hey, love.” He tugged you inside, pressing an eager kiss to your lips before ushering you down the hall, his deft fingers unraveling your scarf from your neck and peeling the coat from your shoulders. You laughed at his haste, spinning and hopping as he removed your boots. He stopped only when he finally saw your sweater. “Oh, darling. You look ravishing.” His hands fell to your waist and he pulled you into his chest, a mischievous grin on his face. “Very fashion forward.”

“Thank you, baby,” you giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck. You hadn’t called him that before, but it just rolled right off your tongue, natural as breathing.

He loosed a pleased hum, leaning forward to capture your lips in another, slower kiss. “Like hearin’ you call me baby,” he mumbled against your mouth.

The oven beeped loudly, startling you both.

“Hungry?” He asked with a shy smile.

“Starved.”

He showed you to the dining room, a round table with a vase of flowers at the center, candles strewn on every surface. He pulled a chair out for you and you sat, accepting a kiss on the cheek before he dashed back into the kitchen.

You looked around, having been too caught up in his frantic greeting to take in the space. The rest of the flat was sparsely decorated, purely functional, besides a sagging bookshelf in the living room, and a few photos along the hallway. Not a Christmas decoration was in sight.

George returned with two glasses of wine, the bottle tucked under his arm. “Here we go, a little Pinot Noir for my gorgeous girl.” He set the glasses down then finally sat down in his chair.

“Thank you, baby,” you teased, and he smirked, withdrawing his wand from his apron and waving it towards the kitchen. A moment later, a giant bowl full of pasta, a basket of bread, a salad bowl, and two plates came hovering out of the kitchen, arranging themselves neatly on the table.

“Bon appetite.” He raised his wine glass, a shy little smile on his face, and you raised yours to cheers, so charmed you could cry.

Two hours later, you were curled up on George’s couch, half enjoying Home Alone, half enjoying the feel of each other’s skin under your sweaters, the rich taste of wine on each other’s tongues.

“How come you haven't decorated for Christmas?” You mumbled between languid pecks, his soft lips moving to trail over your jaw.

“Didn't much feel like celebrating this year,” he replied, kissing down your neck, his tongue tracing your pulse.

“And yet here we are, watching corny holiday films,” you chuckled and felt him smile against your neck.

“Things changed.” He lifted his head, capturing your lips in a heavy, open-mouthed kiss that made your blood warm, your heart beat a little quicker in your chest.

Suddenly, something slammed against the window, a frantic scrabbling against glass that had George springing up like something electrocuted him.

“Errol?” George moved toward the window. “No, what the fuck—”

“Oh my god, what are you doing here?!” You cried, jumping up and throwing open the window. Your family owl flew in, landing on the back of the couch. Fear pumped through you and you snatched the letter from his beak, rougher than the poor bird deserved in your panic.

“What is it?” George rested his hands on your hips as you tore it open.

The words on the card made your heart stop.

Mungo’s now, Mum

“George,” you whimpered, sagging against him as terror rocked through you.

He took the letter from your hand and skimmed it. “Go get your coat on, I’ll take you.”

“I—” You were frozen, darkness pulsing at the edges of your vision.

His hands came up to hold your face, shaking you gently. “Honey, we have to go. I’m going to be right here with you, okay? We’re going together. But we have to move now.”

You nodded, clawing through the sludge of fear and clinging to the thread of stability he offered. He helped you into your coat and shooed the owl out, not even bothering to lock up before he was ushering you into his chest.

“Hold onto me,” he ordered, and you did, and suddenly the world was sucked away, a dizzying, horrible tornado of space, and then it spit you back out on the front steps of St. Mungo’s.

“Holy shit,” you gagged, clutching onto George and he held you upright.

“Sorry, love. Never apparated before?” He asked, rubbing your back.

You shook your head.

“Y/n!”

George stiffened, his hands tightening on you, and you looked up.

“Mum!” You cried, rushing to her.

“Oh, hun. I’m sorry to frighten you, he’s okay. Just a scare. I’m so sorry, darling,” she cried, clinging to you.

“Sh, no, it’s alright. I should be here,” you soothed, squeezing your eyes shut to stop the tears from falling. “What happened?”

“He couldn’t breathe, his lungs—pneumonia again,” your mom hiccuped, wiping at her cheeks. “Who’s that?” She asked, looking over your shoulder.

George was were you had left him, hands stuffed in his pockets, his eyes bouncing from you and your mom to the strangers mingling on the sidewalk. You could tell his hackles were raised, some protective instinct roused when he’d been startled by the owl.

You waved him over. “Mum, this is George Weasley. George, this is my mum.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” George said, offering her a hand and a shy smile.

She clutched his hand hard and you both winced. “I-you-Weasley—The George Weasley?” She gasped.

“Just George is fine,” he said with a nervous chuckle.

“Oh my, I just can't believe—”

“Mum, can we go see him now?” You interrupted, anxious to see that he was well yourself. “I promise you'll have a proper introduction later.”

“Yes, of course. This way.” She released George and grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the hospital.

George hesitated, until you reached your hand out to him. He immediately threaded your fingers together, falling into step with your frantic mother.

A few moments later, you rushed into your brother's room, finding him upright and smiling, some new tubes in his little nose, but all together looking well.

“Mum, I said to leave her alone!” He argued, crossing his arms over his reindeer pj's.

“Hush you,” you scolded lightly, wrapping him up in a hug and kissing his forehead, noting his lingering fever. “How are you feeling, darling?” You asked, pulling back to hold his face.

“M'okay. They let me have some ice lollies earlier!” He chirped, sticking out his neon blue tongue.

You grinned. “I see, that's excellent.”

He opened his mouth to say something else, but then you saw his eyes widen, mouth falling open in shock. You turned to see what he was looking at and realized it was George, who was loitering in the doorway.

“Is that—” your brother started, and George looked up. “Wizard—Wizard Wheezes!”

George’s solemn expression shattered into a wide smile as he stepped into the room, his energy shifting instantly. “Hello, mate! I’m George. Heard your not feeling so good?” George reached out to shake his little hand, and he took it, his fingers dwarfed by George's palm.

“No, no. I'm fine!” Your brother replied, shock melting into excitement. “What are you doing here?”

George glanced down at you. “Your sister has been telling me all about you, and how strong you've been lately,” he said, crouching down beside the bed. “She loves you a lot, y’know?”

You stepped out of the way, tears starting to burn behind your eyes. Your mother slipped her hand into yours, watching the interaction with a hand pressed to her mouth.

“I know, but she worries too much,” your brother answered, and George burst out laughing.

“That's what happens when you love someone,” George replied, smiling. “You want to protect them from anything that might hurt them, even if you know you can't.”

“I’m big like you, I don't need protecting!” He argued.

George nodded, pressing a hand to his chest apologetically. “I can tell. But that doesn't mean they don't want to try anyways. And big guys like us have to protect them in return, yeah?”

Your brother nodded, puffing up his chest. “I'll never let anything happen to my sister. I promise!”

You blew him a kiss, and George gave him a high five.

“That's my buddy. Now, let's see if I've got anything special for heroes like you.” George fished around in his pocket, making dramatic faces while he rummaged in what you thought was an empty pocket.

But then he withdrew what appeared to be a toy airplane that would in no way, shape, or form fit in that pocket without magic. Your brothers face lit up when George threw it in the air and it started to fly, ducking and whizzing around the room.

“Hm, that wasn't what I was looking for,” George said with a dramatic frown, and you giggled. He glanced over his shoulder at you, breaking his frown to smirk at your reaction, and started fishing around in his pockets again.

He pulled out a bouncing ball, then a rubber chicken, a set of chattering teeth, a stuffed teddy bear. Item after item came out of his pockets until your brothers bed was covered in toys and gag items, and a dozen nurses were watching in amazement from the hallway. You and your mom were fighting through silent tears, your heart so big you felt it might explode out of your chest.

Most importantly, your brother was ecstatic, playing with this and that and chattering away at George about the different products and teaching him how to do magic tricks George himself had invented.

But half an hour later, your brother’s nurse came in to administer some of his medication and get him ready for bed. He tried to protest, but his new best friend, George, managed to talk him into not only compliance, but eager acceptance of his medicine.

You stole George away into the now quiet hall, Christmas lights illuminating the dark corridor, and threw your arms around his shoulders, burying your face into his neck, needing to feel him close, to ground you through the onslaught of emotions.

He wrapped his arms around you, his head turning to kiss your temple. “Need some air?” He murmured, and you shook your head no.

“Just need you,” you whispered, holding him tighter.

He let you cry into his shoulder, rubbing soothing circles onto your back and murmuring reassurances into your hair. When you'd exhausted yourself, you pulled back and he reached up to hold your face, wiping your tears with his thumbs.

“Thank you for doing that,” you sniffled, sliding your hands down his chest, his sweater soft beneath your palms.

“It was my pleasure, love,” he replied, looking you in the eye. “You—him—this, I needed this. Needed you,” he breathed, voice tightening. “I forgot why we did it all, what all the sacrifices were for, and you reminded me. He reminded me.”

You rose on your toes to press a kiss to his lips, not knowing how else to express how you were feeling that wasn't, well, insanely soon.

He kissed you back, passionate enough to steal your breath, but released you when the door to your brother's room opened.

“Darling—oh, I'm sorry. Darling, would you like to come get a cup of coffee with me?” Your mother asked, clearly fighting a grin at discovering you.

“Sure, mum,” you exhaled, reluctantly stepping away from George. “You okay for a minute?”

“Absolutely, I'll keep an eye on him.” He pressed a kiss to your knuckles before releasing you to your mother, a soft smile on his face.

When you returned twenty minutes later, you found George stretched out in the arm chair pulled up right next to your brother’s bed, Rudolph on the television.

“—Fred managed to get the deer into the kitchen with some carrots and loaf of banana bread, and kept him distracted while I tied bells and ornaments—mom’s favorite’s, of course—to it’s antlers.”

Your brother was giggling, curled up with the stuffed bear George conjured earlier, his eyes heavy as he fought to stay awake to hear the story.

“But then we ran out of banana bread and Fred tried to give it some cookies, but by then the deer had discovered the Christmas tree in the corner, with the popcorn strings and cranberries and salt dough ornaments, y’know? So the deer started eating the bloody Christmas tree and we cannot get it out of the house now. It’s found the best sodding snack on earth. So by the time my mom get’s home, half the tree is gone, there’s shi—dirt all over the house, dishes are broken, holes in the walls—”

“What did she do?” Your mom asked, laughing. “I would have sent you out to live with the deer and it’s family.”

George grinned. “We ate nothing but carrots and banana bread for a week. Even for Christmas dinner. It was torture,” he chuckled, turning back to your brother, only to find him sound asleep. “That boring, huh?” He joked, rising from the chair so your mom could take it. But instead, she pulled him in for a hug, surprising him.

“Thank you for doing this, and I’m so sorry about your brother. But I know he’d be so proud of you today,” she murmured, and you saw George’s eyes well, his jaw flexing as he tried to fight it. Your mom pulled back, pressing a kiss to his cheek, then smoothing away her lipstick with her thumb. “You’re a wonderful, wonderful man, George Weasley. And I’m so glad you’re here.”

He nodded, a tear streaking down his face. “Thank you, ma’am. That’s very k-kind.”

Your mother passed him to you, his hand gripping your tightly as he fought to keep his composure. “Goodnight, mum. I’ll see you in the morning?”

Your mother nodded, waving you away while she kissed your brothers cheek.

You led George out of the room and down the hall, finding an empty room to slip into. As soon as the door closed behind you, he sank to his knees, great, heaving sobs wracking his body. You lowered yourself to the ground with him, pulling his head into your shoulder and rocking him back and forth, his tears soaking through your sweater and shaking your whole body.

“I miss him,” George gasped like he was in pain, his grip almost bruising around your body.

“I know, baby. I know you do,” you said into his hair, holding his head against your chest. Your own tears began to spill then, for him, for you, for your family, and his, and you clung to one another as the overwhelming grief took it’s pound of flesh.

Slowly, he began to settle, breathing labored, but his tears subsiding. He lifted his head, looking at you through tear-brightened eyes, his lashes dark and spiked with moisture. You leaned forward, kissing away the droplets on his cheeks and jaw, until you felt him start to smile.

“I-it’s been so long since I—” he cleared his throat, reaching up to cup your face, wiping away your tears with his thumb. “I was numb for awhile, so long I sort of forgot what anything else felt like. I meant what I said earlier, you reminded me of what I’d lost, but in the best way.” Tears welled up again, but he smiled through them. “He would have been so fucking jealous that I got you. But Merlin, he would have loved you so much.”

You huffed a laugh, lower lip trembling as your heart soared. “George,” was all you could manage, and he leaned forward to kiss you, rising onto his knees and pulling into into his chest.

Then, that wild spinning sensation enveloped you again, and in a blink you were back on his couch, exactly as you were before, the credits to the movie rolling on the screen, your glasses of wine exactly where you left them.

“Stay with me tonight,” he asked, trailing kisses down your neck as you reoriented yourself. “Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve, we could spend it together.” He lifted his head to look you in the eyes, and you nodded eagerly.

“Yeah,” you said, laughing as he rained kisses over your face. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Thank you so much for reading!

I hope you have the most wonderful holiday season and start of the new year <3

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iamconstantlyinpain · 22 days ago

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iamconstantlyinpain · 22 days ago

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Good soup Mc…. Good sooouuuup! 🗣️🙂‍↕️

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iamconstantlyinpain · 22 days ago

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Reached level 100 affinity with Rafayel today! Time to celebrate with bridal boudoir shots of miss bodygua-- er, miss wife

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iamconstantlyinpain · 23 days ago

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𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐢 “𝐊𝐞𝐧” 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 || Headcanons ||

A/n: Can't believe it took me so long to watch this movie.

Instant Girl Dad: The moment he holds her for the first time, all the bravado and sarcasm melts away. His hands tremble, voice cracking as he whispers, “Hey, kiddo… I’m your dad,” like he’s just realized he’s got the whole world in his arms.

Protective but Not Controlling: He’s protective—especially since he knows firsthand how dangerous the world can be. But he doesn’t smother. He trusts his daughter to be strong… though he does get twitchy when she climbs things or shows signs of taking after him physically.

Nicknames Galore: Calls her everything from “Peanut” to “Mochi,” depending on the day. He has a soft spot for calling her “Buttercup” when she’s being stubborn (just like her mom).

Domestic Disasters: He tries to cook breakfast while you sleep in. The attempt ends with the fire alarm going off, your daughter laughing hysterically, and Ken claiming the smoke is part of the “presentation.” (He eventually gets good at pancakes… one flavor: chocolate chip. That’s it.)

Suit Time = Guilt Time: When he goes out as Ultraman, he always looks back at a picture she drew of him on the fridge—tiny Ultraman with hearts all over him. He keeps a copy folded in his boot.

Messy Hair Moments: You once caught him brushing her hair into tiny pigtails, tongue sticking out in concentration, murmuring “Okay, okay, we’ve got this, it’s not that hard, right?” only for one to be halfway down her neck and the other on top of her head. She wears it proudly.

Soft at Night: When she falls asleep on his chest, he won’t move. He’ll sit there in the dark, eyes closed, hand curled around her little back, thinking about how something so small makes him feel invincible.

Mini Me Moments: She imitates his stance, his smirks, his dramatic Ultraman poses. He pretends to be annoyed (“You’re gonna throw out your back like that, kid”) but secretly records every moment.

Tried to teach her how to swing a bat: It cracked him in the face, he never tried again.

“Not the Hair”

You walked into the living room to find Ken with your daughter seated on his shoulders, giggling like a maniac.

“Daddy’s hair is so sparkly!” she declared, sprinkling glitter on his head from a suspiciously open arts-and-crafts box.

Ken gave you a look of utter betrayal, a pout etched across his face.

"You’re being bedazzled by a three-year-old.”

“She said she was making me look like a galaxy.”

“…Honestly? She’s not wrong...you're very pretty."

He smirked at your praise, though he didn’t move from his spot. She was laughing too hard. And Ken? He was still holding onto her ankles to keep her steady like she was the most precious thing in the universe.

“Ultraman and the Tiny Sidekick”

“She wants to go with you,” you whispered as Ken stood in the doorway getting ready to dart out of the door.

Ken sighed, running a hand through his hair. “She’s two.”

“She said she’s gonna ‘punch the bad aliens in the toe’ while you get the big ones.”

He chuckled, the kind that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Remind me never to get on her bad side then."

You leaned against him, watching your daughter zip around the living room in a red cape and cardboard mask. “She gets that from you you know.”

Ken looked at her for a long moment before murmuring, “No… she gets her fearlessness from you. I just gave her the cape.”

“Morning Chaos”

You woke up to a loud thud followed by a suspiciously cheery “I got it!”

By the time you made it to the kitchen, Ken was on his knees, your daughter perched on the counter holding a spatula like a sword. There were scrambled eggs on the floor, flour on the cat who wouldn't stop hissing at him and somehow… toast stuck to the ceiling.

"Do I want to know?"

Ken looked up, sheepish. “We were making you breakfast in bed.”

“I can see that.”

“But the pan fought back."

You tried not to laugh. “Oh? And… who won this little battle?"

Your daughter grinned, triumphant. “I did!”

Ken saluted her. “That’s my girl.”

A sigh escaped your lips as you scooped up your daughter. "How about we go out to eat and save daddy the embarrassment of buying a new kitchen."

"Hey!"

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iamconstantlyinpain · 24 days ago

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college rival! kenji sato who’s trying to break the stereotype that student athletes can’t be smart. his dad is a genius for fucks sake. so he takes the hardest classes. computer science. applied physics. chemistry. its hard. super hard and most days he falls asleep after practice still sticky and sweaty, with a book on his face. but he does it. and slowly people begin to recognise the freshman who waltzes into the library’s bio-chem section with a baseball mitt and jersey. it’s how you begin to notice him anyways. and then you realise the new starter for the college baseball team might actually give you some trouble.

college rival! kenji sato who starts to put his hand up to answer questions. at first it was just one or two, but soon he’s sticking his hand up for every. single. one. questions you would usually answer. he’s almost never wrong but when he is you make sure to be the one to correct him. it quickly becomes a competition. in lectures. in classes. the other students start to notice, and word of the budding rivalry between the quiet scholarship student and freshman star of the baseball team spreads.

college rival! kenji sato who refuses to leave the library till you do. he’ll sit at a table, books spread out, laptop open, taking notes and making flash cards, until his vision blurs and his fingers cramp. but he won’t be the first to go. absolutely not. it won’t be till the last person has left that the librarian will scuttle round to tell you both to get lost. as you both leave you make a point to ignore each other, but he can feel you shooting daggers at his back.

college rival! kenji sato who nearly crushes his water bottle when he reads your article in the school newspaper. he’s surprised to see you write for the sports column and even more surprised to see you’ve named him. till he reads the flurry of insults and unflattering idioms. “more ego than man”, “bad team player”, “distracted”. of course he’s distracted ! you’ve been on his mind for weeks. constantly making jabs at him in class, sprinting to answer your professors questions first in lectures. he’s not been able to eat, to sleep, not without thinking about your stupid fucking smirk as you try to remind him that he, a college athlete, belongs at the bottom of the academia totem pole.

college rival! kenji sato who tries to ignore you when you turn up at one of his games. he doesn’t understand why you’re there, till he sees your friends join you. It’s weird he thinks, when you’re with them laughing and smiling you don’t actually look that bad. but then your eyes find his and that laughter, that warmth, is gone and kenji remembers that nope you are an insufferable bitch.

college rival! kenji sato who finds himself at the same stupid house party as you. he’s with a few of his teammates, it’s after the game. they won. they’re celebrating. most of them are red-faced, drooling drunk. he’s nursing a beer, can in hand, when he spots you from across the room. you’re leaning against the wall in what looks like a casual manner, till kenji takes a closer look. then he sees the guy, some dude from you shared AP physics class. Paul or Pete ?? Kenji doesn’t know. He doesn’t care. not when he sees the guy lean down to kiss you, just for you to try and push him away. He’s by your side before he has time to register what he’s doing.

college rival! kenji sato who not only knocks a guy out for his class rival, but bails on a night out. he offers to take you home and doesn’t say a word when he gives you his letterman jacket, after noticing you shivering. it’s warm and smells of polish and freshly cut grass. neither of you say a word, which is what makes it even more bizarre when you lean up to kiss him. you’re nowhere near your dorm, outside some random humanities building, but you can’t help it. for weeks you’ve been puzzling over why he bugs you so much, why his constant presence in classes and lectures, in your favourite study spots, sends your heart into a flurry. sometimes anger and attraction can feel very similar.

college rival! kenji sato who finds himself in your dorm room, your roommate nowhere to be found. He lets you push him back onto the bed, lets you be the one to tug his shirt off. it’s been weeks of constant battling for control and yet here he is giving up so easily. Kenji gives you the victory you’ve been looking for just to see the smile on your face.

college athlete kenji = late night brainrot. if you enjoyed lemme know if i should do a part 2. Next part of Not a hero, Just an Author will be up soon <333

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iamconstantlyinpain · 24 days ago

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I really wanted to ask if you could do like a GN! It can be fem too it doesn’t really matter—

The Reader where like Ultraman can transform bigger too but they're more inspired by Mothra (like a mothra suit). I think it would've been like so cute to see Emi go all awe and clingy to the reader because how bright and heavenly they look💕

Kenji gets all jealous seeing his kajju daughter prefer the reader over him a lil bit. tall parents raising baby monster

Emi’s Favorite

Kenji Sato x Reader

Word Count: 1,546

Genre/Warning: Established Relationship, Family Dynamics, Jealousy (very slight)

Author’s Note: Loved this idea so much, thank you for this first request! Emi with a moth mommy ⋆˚ʚɞ

MASTERLIST

Something about your boyfriend changed the night after Gigantron’s “attack” on Tokyo Dome. That night, you were supposed to help him fend the kaiju off but he insisted he’d do it on his own.

For some reason, you were glad you did not join in because (1) their fight became a pursuit in the sky, and (2) you could not zoom in the air the same way Ultraman does. The only reason you’re able to fly is because of your wings—moth wings on your suit, which would put you at a disadvantage in the case of an air chase.

You were supposed to come over to his place that night to check on him because you were sure that the skirmish had caused more damage to his already injured shoulder. However, your calls were left answered by Mina, telling you that Kenji had already fallen asleep.

Deciding not to disturb him, you simply let him be. But in the days that followed, something surely wasn’t right. He couldn’t focus on his games, he looked so fatigued and restless all the time, and oh good gracious, there were now dark circles under his eyes.

He just looks so stressed and you were so upset with the fact that he didn’t want to tell you what’s going on with him. The time he got into a fight with the other players was the end of the line for you.

You barged into his house, finding him by his bathtub, in front of a TV, watching the news about him. The usually peaceful atmosphere in his house was now charged with tension as you made your way towards him. At that moment, Kenji was praying so hard the kaiju in his basement would keep still.

He still wouldn’t tell you what’s wrong. “It’s not about us. It’s about…” he said, “…something bigger. Something I’m not ready to share yet.”

Your eyes softened at his response, though the ache in your chest remained. You made him promise to talk to you when he’s ready and he agreed. You can’t stand seeing the love of your life like that but at the same time, you didn’t want to force him to do anything against his will. Taking up Ultraman was already enough of that.

Almost two months, after the incident, he seemed back to his old shape. Better, even. And thank heavens, finally, he could now tell you about what happened.

“There’s a what below?!” You asked in disbelief. The two of you were standing in front of the elevator and for a moment, you think your ears are playing tricks on you.

“A baby kaiju,” he replied and went on to explain everything. Still in disbelief, you took in everything with a nod. He placed his hand on the small of your back as he guided you into the elevator.

The moment you saw the big pink baby, you gasped. Emi made happy noises as you approached. However, upon noticing you, she suddenly began to cry.

Kenji was tapping on the glass containment in an attempt to shush her. But to no avail, Emi just cried harder.

“I’m sorry, she doesn’t know you yet,” Kenji apologized. “But I assure you, she’s a sweet big baby.”

Remembering how, at first, Emi only recognized Kenji when he was Ultraman, you decided to try something.

“(Y/n), what are you—“ Before Kenji finished, a soft glow enveloped you, and moments later, you emerged in your giant form. Your wings spread wide, shimmering with black patterns and warm tones of yellow and orange.

Emi’s cries slowed, her curiosity piqued by the sudden change. She opened her eyes, sobs turning to soft hiccups as she stared up at you in wonder. Her claws tapped the glass as she reached out, trying to grasp your wings.

Kenji watched in awe as Emi’s distress melted away. “I think it’s working,” he whispered.

“May I?” You asked, gesturing to the lid of the containment unit. Kenji gave a nod of approval. Carefully, you turned it before lifting it off.

You lowered yourself closer to Emi, your wings fluttering softly as she climbed up her containment. The gentle breeze they created seemed to soothe her further.

Emi let out a delighted squeal, her earlier tears forgotten. She toddled closer to you, her claws gently touching the edge of your wing. She let out a happy chirp, eyes sparkling with joy.

Kenji stepped closer, a relieved smile spreading across his face. “Wow, she loves you in this form,” he said.

You smiled down at him. “She’s just like her dad,” you replied. “She knows a good thing when she sees it.”

Kenji chuckled before he himself transformed into Ultraman. He sat beside you with Emi in between the two of you.

Your wings gently enveloped Emi in a comforting embrace. She was now calm and happy as she traced the pattern of your wings with her claw.

“Gentle, baby,” Kenji said as he rubbed her head.

She continued walking around you and playing with your wings until she tired herself out. She walked in front of you and climbed on your lap, nestling her head on your stomach.

“Awww, baby,” you cooed. You gently picked her up into your arms and gently swayed.

Kenji moved close to you, wrapping an arm around you. You nestled into his arm, head resting on the junction of his neck and shoulders. The three of you slept like that for the night.

The next morning when Emi awoke, she immediately looked for you. Realizing that the moth lady was missing, she cried. Mina was quick to assist her, playing videos of cartoons and Kenji to calm her. To Mina’s surprise, none of them worked.

“Who’s making my baby cry?” Kenji asked as he approached. He expected her crying to cease once she saw him. However, that is not the case.

“Huh?” He questioned. Emi always calms when she sees him. “Mina, try showing her pictures of (y/n).”

Mina did as told and as miraculously as yesterday, Emi stopped crying. “It seems like she got herself a new mother,” Mina commented.

With Emi’s growing fondness of you, you found yourself frequenting at Kenji’s house more than ever. She was just so cute; like a live plushie when you’re in your giant form.

“Hi babyyyy,” you cooed as you transformed into your giant form. You scooped her up, her head nuzzling against you. Her earlier play was abandoned in favor of your presence.

You walked in on Kenji and Emi playing baseball together. And you didn’t mean to interrupt but when you saw her walking towards you, you knew you had to transform.

Kenji smiled at the scene. “She really loves you, you know,” he said.

You smiled back, feeling a warm glow inside. “I love her too,” you replied. “She’s such a sweetheart.”

Emi chirped happily as she climbed up your torso and onto your shoulder where she could watch and touch your wings.

Kenji watched the interaction, his smile fading slightly as a twinge of jealousy crept in. His baby kaiju shows a different kind of joy when you’re around.

He loved Emi dearly, but lately, it seemed like she preferred your company over his. He couldn’t help but feel a bit sidelined.

“She really lights up when you’re here,” Kenji said, trying to keep his tone light.

You glanced at him, noticing the slight edge in his voice. “She lights up when you’re here too, Kenji,” you replied. “She loves you.”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know, but… it feels like she’s more excited to see you than me sometimes.”

You tapped the space on the floor beside you, gesturing for him to switch to Ultraman. Thankfully, he did not resist.

You moved close to him as he sat beside you, his hand finding its way to your thigh. Your head automatically rested on his shoulder.

“You’re her dad, Kenji,” you said. “She loves you so much. Maybe she’s just fascinated by my wings right now.”

You felt Kenji nod, although the jealousy still lingered within him. “Yeah, maybe,” he replied. “I just want to be enough for her.”

You leaned back to look at him. Your other hand which was not holding Emi on your shoulder, moved up to hold his face. “You are enough. You’re everything to her,” you said. “And to me.”

Emi squirmed out of your hand, gently jumping off your shoulder and landing on your lap. She toddled over to Kenji. He looked down at her, his heart melting as she reached up, wanting to be held. He picked her up, and she nuzzled against his chest, purring softly.

“See?” You asked with a smile. “She adores you.”

Kenji hugged Emi close, his jealousy fading into thin air. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess you’re right.”

You spent the rest of the day playing with Emi, taking turns holding her and making her laugh. By the time evening rolled around, she was content and sleepy in Kenji’s arms.

Before reverting to your original form, you kissed Emi’s head and then leaned in to kiss Kenji. “I’ll be back soon,” you said. “Take care of our little one.”

Kenji smiled, his earlier worries forgotten. “We’ll be here, waiting.”

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