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#but if people want to make that an official holiday that would be swell
noteriii · 2 years
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Helloo!! I'm in love with your shxtou × yn ficsss!! Can you do one where they spend their first holidays together, just a fluffy domesticated feel-good vibe wherein maybe they bake and sing cheesy Christmas songs all while incorporating that in a shared stream, perhaps? THANK YOUUUUU
here it is!! hope this is what you wanted, anon!
established relationship! shxtou x streamer! reader
title: flour + sugar
synopsis: you spend your first holiday with shou, with a little twist.
. ₊ ༝ ・ ˖ ₊ ˚ 。 . ⋆
you watched anxiously from the counter of the newly furnished kitchen, tugging at your sleeves out of habit. a few feet away from you, your boyfriend prepares his setup for both streams. though you had been on a streaming hiatus for a few months, after the announcement of yours and shoto’s relationship, your fans hounded you for new content. however, that was quickly pushed to the side when you and your lover decided to find a new place together as you two were reaching an almost two year anniversary. the jump was odd, in many ways. going from a solo, independent streamer in your childhood bedroom- to a notable virtual duo paired with shou- to then announcing your relationship more than a year after it became official- to then going on hiatus for months to just move in with him to a completely new place- to now, this returning stream on both your ends. 
from the corner of his eye, shoto noticed your anxiousness as he laid basic cookie ingredients on the table. “you’ll be fine, yn. it’s only a handcam stream anyways.” he tells you in hopes of reassurance. however, that was the least of your worries. what if your viewers thought of you two differently now that you were dating? what would they say about your break? what if- “if you don’t want to do this anymore, we don’t have to yknow” his gentle voice breaks your thoughts. “no, i want to start streaming again.. just a bit nervous,” you tell him, folding up the ends of your sleeves neatly. “what if they don’t like us together? with this stream being the first on my end for months.. what’re they gonna say? what if no one even joins?” you begin to ramble your thoughts, glancing at the set up in front of you. the table is covered in ingredients to make your favorite cookie recipes from scratch, along with the store bought cookie dough in case you two mess up too much. two cameras face the table to provide different angles for your viewers, a mic sits to the front of the table and two laptops sit not too far away displaying both yours and shoto’s twitch streams on a loading screen. your boyfriend makes his way to you, pulling you close and sliding his arms around your waist. “that’s why you’re so nervous? yn, come on, you can’t be serious.” he rests his head atop of yours and you feel yourself relaxing in his hold. “there’s thousands of people on either of our streams waiting for us to start. plus, what does it matter? it’s just you and me, our new apartment, cookies, and our very first christmas together.” he tells you, drawing small circles on your lower back. you take in a deep breath and nod. “yeah.. you, me, and our very first christmas.” you repeat, a smile crawling onto your features as your heart swells at the thought of this being the first of many holidays to come. he pulls back and kisses the tip of your nose, sending you a look. “and it isn’t christmas without some sappy christmas music,” he says, dragging you back to the table and pulling out his phone. from the small device, he plays a random christmas lofi music, muttering about how it better not be muted through twitch. you giggle softly as you glance at the chats, flooding with comments and words of waiting for the ‘new’ couple clips. maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as you thought. 
. ₊ ༝ ・ ˖ ₊ ˚ 。 . ⋆
hours into the stream, 2 to be exact, all of your worries from earlier were the least of your concern. the christmas music is louder now, as you laugh, completely off camera as you run around the kitchen in attempts to keep your nice sweater clean. shoto smiles widely, trying to hold back his own laughter as he chases you around, flour and sugar coated hands extended out. “get away, shou! i haven’t even done anything to you!!” you whine, trying to bargain with your boyfriend. the cookie dough sat on a bowl on the counter, ingredients strayed about as the viewers can do nothing but stare at it and listen to the light banter between you two. “i’m not even doing anything! ‘m just trying to give my lover a hug!” he argues back, taking a small step forward. you shake your head, carefully but quickly making your way to the stream set up and to the microphone, quietly talking into it. “chat, help me. he’s trying to get my favorite sweater dirty.” you eye the purple haired mischief who laughs at your words. “am not! why can’t i give you a hug?” he whines before moving quickly, pulling you close. you yelp in surprise, realizing your mistake of staying still for too long. it was too late. shoto pulled you into a deep kiss, cupping your face with both of his hands before going to grip your wrists gently to get them dirty as well. you laughed into the kiss and you can feel his stupid grin against yours. when he pulls away, you glare at him in annoyance (though it was so obviously faked, he knew). reaching up, you take his face in your palm and rub your cheek against his, coating his skin in the transferred flour and sugar mixture. he gasps in surprise and you stick your tongue out at him, content in your own revenge. “loser,” you tease, glancing into his dark eyes. he’s so close you can feel his breath against your face, noses so close to each other as he looks down to you. your heart speeds up, a blush gracing your face. he’s been even closer than this before, but your heart leaps out of your chest doing loops and figure eights. you were so in love with him. “santa doesn’t give gifts to people who say mean things, love.” your boyfriend says quietly, glancing down to your lips. “well, i don’t need anything from santa this year.” you tell him in the same tone. “why’s that?” he questions you, confusion glazing his eyes.
 “because.. all i want for christmas is you.” 
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wafflesinthe504 · 2 years
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New Year’s Eve Headcanons (The Rookie Edition)
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Wopez
With New Year’s Eve only being a few days after Christmas the house still has toys strewn everywhere no matter how much they and the nanny attempt to clean up toys seemed to continue to pop up out of nowhere. Wesley and Angela had thought about traveling to DisneyLand to celebrate but decided that they should wait until Jack was a little bit older and could handle the loud sounds of the fireworks. So they decided to do the next best thing that they could think of. They bought a light projector that projected stars and moons onto the ceiling for Jack and placed it in the living room where they watched New Year’s Rockin’ Eve enjoying the multiple performances. Over the course of the night they danced and sang along to the performances with Jack joining in sometimes, joined Jack in playing with his toys, and ate some quesadillas. When Jack passed out on the chair at around 9 pm Wesley and Angela put their to bed making sure he was tucked in. Once they were sure he was fast asleep they brought one of the baby monitors to the living room and continued their celebrations late into the night with plenty of wine.
Nyla/James
With the major holidays finally past them Nyla and James are happy to finally get some alone time with each other and baby Leah. Don’t get them wrong they loved seeing family and friends but travelling and hosting family especially with a newborn baby is exhausting. They were ready to salvage whatever sleep they could and go back to their normal routine. So, for New Year’s Eve they take as much of the day to themselves as possible and enjoy catching up on some tv shows before eventually putting on relaxing music and take a nap whenever Leah takes a nap. One of Leah’s longer naps end up around 11pm. They all end up sleeping through midnight and the start of the new year but they really wouldn’t have it any other way.
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Chenford
Lucy and Tim end up getting pulled to work the night shift and help to monitor the fireworks show at Marina Del Rey. It’s not exactly how they thought they would end up spending their first New Year’s Eve together but its not the worst assignment they could get. Most of their time is spent at Burton Chance Park helping  to guide the food trucks to their designated spots and helping to setup before the park officially started with the New Year’s Eve festivities. Once the festivities began they helped visitors find their way to the park and making sure no one snuck in anything illegal or dangerous. As the night went on they ended up bringing a few extreme cases of drunken disorderly people into custody and putting them in the drunk take to sober up. Thankfully, other than the drunken disorderly people and breaking a verbal sparring match the night went on without any issues.
The first time the fireworks went off at 9 pm Tim and Lucy were focused on helping with crowd management meaning they couldn’t really enjoy the fireworks or each other’s company since they ended up getting separated so they could prevent the crowd from swelling too much as the people gathered to watch the first set of fireworks. The second time they went off, right at 11:59 pm, they had managed to find their way back together and didn’t have to worry as much about the crowd since many families had left after the first firework show. Since they were still on duty, they couldn’t kiss like they wanted to, but they held hands and held each other close for a few moments before returning to duty. Once the firework show was over and the park was closing, they helped to make sure everyone safely left. By the time they were done at the park it was already 3am meaning they had three more hours left on shift. For the last three hours they went to the station and finished up any leftover paperwork before clocking out. Tim and Lucy decided to go to Lucy’s apartment for the night so they could check in on Tamara and relax for the rest of the day. As soon as they entered Lucy’s apartment Tim kissed her gently and passionately up against the door both melting into the kiss.
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Second to last day of Pride Month, and gearing up for Wrath Month (unofficial, for now), we are talking about white supremacy, colonialism, and how to keep that nonsense out of ace and aro spaces! These are just some points and some ideas on the topics - we really encourage everyone to reflect and support your local aspecs of color. And call that shit out when you see it. 
[ID: 5 images with white backgrounds, black borders, black text, and the TAAAP logo in the upper right corners. 
Image one reads “White Supremacy and Ace or Aro Identity. White supremacy and imperialism have strongly impacted most discourse around sexuality, orientation, and relationships. Here are some common sayings that have roots in racism, imperialism, and/or colonialism: "Aces and aros of color are hard to find." - While some ace and aro spaces are definitely white dominated, this should NOT be treated as a natural thing. It should be questioned why a space has such little racial diversity and what barriers exist that keep POC out. Also, with online spaces, many people presume white and American as the default even when it is not necessarily reflective of the space.”
The second image reads “White Supremacy and Ace or Aro Identity. "Oh this person doesn't look [ace or aro]." - Asexuality and aromanticism do not have a "look". This is in general queerphobic, as it imagines that LGBTQIA+ people are easily identifiable by their looks, but is often specifically weaponized against POC. As an example. black people and women of color in particular are generally stereotyped as more sexual and "promiscuous" than their European counterparts. What someone "looks" like is heavily impacted by the bias behind the eyes seeing them. “
The third image reads “White Supremacy and Ace or Aro Identity. "We're just like you/We're not sick/We're normal." - Normalization discourses throw everyone that cannot be "normal" under the bus. As we live in a society shaped by imperialism, colonialism, misogyny, and capitalism, "normal" is decided by those ideas and the structures born from them. POC are never going to have a "normal" sexuality because their bodies are considered inherently "abnormal". "Normal" is a weapon of the state, and queer activists would do better to not wield it.”
Image four reads “White Supremacy and Ace or Aro Identity, and how to keep that Sh!t out of our community. Question the standards and norms of the spaces you engage in, and consider what kind of community they have created for that space. Prioritize changing structures and norms rather than trying to fit into them or make them more "inclusive" - inclusion can only go so far, as structures and norms seek to privilege a certain way of living.”
Image 5 reads “White Supremacy and Ace or Aro Identity, and how to keep that Sh!t out of our community. Don't leave people behind. Identity is intersectional and people should not be asked to prioritize one identity over another. We are stronger when we form coalitions.  Deplatform racists. Don't deplatform POC when they ask racists to stop being racist. Don't deplatform POC when they don't ask nicely.” There is a black megaphone at the bottom of this image. End ID.]
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rocorambles · 4 years
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Dream Come True
Pairing: Kuroo x Reader
Genre/Warnings: Yandere, Non-Con Drugging, Non-Con Somnophilia, Non-Con/Rape, Dub-Con, Manipulation, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Corruption Kink, Breeding Kink, Overstimulation, Sex Toys, Bondage, DDLG Kink, Non-Con Pain Play and Spanking (use of flogger and paddle), Mind Break 
Summary: Kuroo wonders if you still would have eagerly accepted the position as his assistant if you knew what your future entailed. 
Author’s Note: Gifting this to @royal-after-dark as part of the NSFW Haikyuu HQ Gifting Event! Happy holidays and hope you enjoy~
You could hardly believe your eyes when you had received the acceptance email and job offer with the Japanese Volleyball Association logo emblazoned on top of all the documents. It was a dream come true and suddenly all the late nights, all the cups of coffee, all the exhausting networking in college finally felt like they paid off as you eagerly accepted your dream job as an assistant in the JVA's sports marketing department.
And although you had been warned and had been nervous that you had been looking at it from rose tinted glasses, that it wouldn't live up to your expectations, you can safely say three months in that it's everything you wanted and more as you travel around Japan, meeting and watching the best of the best in the country play their hearts out from front row seats, promoting and sharing the joy of the sport you yourself had grown up loving. 
It certainly doesn't hurt that you have an amazing boss. 
Kuroo Tetsurou. 
You had been unsure of him at first, eyes lingering a tad too long on his messy hair, the intimidating smirk on his face, the calculating gaze in his eyes, feeling scrutinized and picked apart with every word and look he sent your way. 
But when he strolled in yawning and plopped a piping hot cup of coffee on your desk without you asking, when you watched him command an entire room with his presence, when you listened to him patiently and kindly teach you your tasks, it's easy to see why he had risen up the ranks so quickly, why he was so well regarded by his peers and managers. 
You strive to follow in his footsteps, carefully taking note of all his feedback, always trying to perform above and beyond. And you beam with pride with every compliment and praise he gifts you with, letting your guard and professionalism slip in front of him the more the two of you get to know each other. 
Maybe that's why you don't notice the predatory glint in hazel eyes as they stare at you.
Maybe that's why you don't notice the way his hands touch you more than necessary as he wraps an arm around the dip of your hip when he laughs, as he brushes a hand almost on the swell of your ass as he coaxes you to walk with him. 
Time flies by and before you know it, you’re staring around wide eyed at the luxurious club the JVA has rented out for their holiday party, taking note of the plush leather seating, the perfectly tailored designer suits adorning professional athletes, the handles of expensive hard liquor gleaming behind the bar and you feel insignificant as you nervously play with the sleeves of your off-shoulder dress. But just as you’re about to get another drink and hide in one of the corners of the club to watch the festivities from afar, a glass is shoved in your face and you instantly feel a surge of confidence as Kuroo winks down at you, playfully whistling as he tells you how beautiful you look. 
Hook. Line. Sinker.
He smirks as you practically glow while you bask in his attention, instinctively leaning into his touch when he brushes a stray eyelash off your face, letting him hook his arm through yours as he waltzes you around, introducing you to your favorite players, mindlessly accepting drink after drink that he subtly places in your hand. And when you begin to sloppily stumble and he tires of plastering on his fake smile, you’re none the wiser when he slips a little pill into your drink, carefully watching you as you quickly toss back the drink, brandishing your empty cup at him in glee. 
It’s amazing how far science has come and he watches in amusement as his gift begins to take effect, watches as you lose control of your body, your speech, watches as you beautifully fall into his arms, drowsily murmuring incoherent ramblings into his neck as you fall into a forced slumber in his arms. 
But even among the joyous chaos of the night, he can’t help but notice just how perfectly you fit against him and he’s quick to brush off the concerns of those around him, internally laughing at how easily people trust as he carries your limp form away without any opposition, sneaking glances at you and feeling his cock begin to twitch from just the sight of your vulnerable form. 
He can’t get home fast enough, grateful to his past self for choosing a modest home in a secluded quiet neighborhood with no prying eyes as he unceremoniously drags you inside and dumps you on his bed. And despite how he’s at full mast, despite how his body yearns and burns for you, despite how he’s scrambling to rid himself of his clothes, he pauses to just admire how gorgeous you are splayed out before him, in his home, on his bed. 
But looking isn't enough and he hovers over your body, inhaling deeply as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, groaning and grinding against your clothed sex as he takes in your scent. You're intoxicating and he worships your body, taking his time to examine and inspect every inch of you with his lips, fingers, tongue, so careful not to leave a mark despite the temptation to completely mark you as his. 
It wouldn't do for you to ask too many questions tomorrow. 
But that doesn't mean he completely restrains himself, shoving the front of your dress down under your breasts, flicking and tweaking your nipples with his tongue and fingers, chuckling at how they harden despite the condition you're in. Even unconscious, your body can't get enough of him and he sucks on the perky buds while his large hand travels down your body, long fingers hooking underneath your underwear and moaning when he feels how wet you already are as he teases your entrance. 
He knows you're a virgin, knows you've never even had a boyfriend and that just makes him even more aroused, the thought of being the first and only cock to stuff you full, the only man to ever have you so intimately, fueling him as he slips your panties to the side and aligns himself with your entrance. 
It's almost obscene how big his cock looks as just his tip teases your hole, sliding up and down your glistening folds, and he hungrily watches as he slowly enters your tight walls bit by bit, watching his entire length disappear inside of you, throwing his head back in pleasure as your walls flutter around the intrusion. 
He tries to pace himself, tries to let your body adjust to him, but you're so warm, so inviting, so much better than any dream he's had of you and his hips begin to rapidly thrust in and out of you, the obscene sounds of skin against skin and his grunts filling the room. It's amazing he even has enough awareness to pull out before he finishes, not wanting any of his sticky white evidence inside of you, but he smirks at the sight of his seed splattered against your inner thighs, tantalizingly close to your now gaping hole. 
Soon. He'd be buried inside of you and breeding you with his seed soon enough. 
But for now, he disappointedly sighs as he wipes the thick spurts from your body, readjusting your outfit and tucking you into his bed before opting to sleep on the couch. 
He'd just have to play the gentleman a little while longer. 
It’s adorable how embarrassed you are the next morning and he hides the smirk that creeps on his face when he hears you frantically scurrying around, racing past him to escape the seemingly strange home you’re in, but he pretends to sleepily yawn and sit up when you reach the front door, drowsily calling your name and halting you in your tracks. 
“Kuroo-san?!”
You can’t even meet his eyes as you shuffle back towards him at his request, gingerly sitting beside him on the couch, profusely apologizing and bowing for your unprofessional behavior at the party last night. But he waves off your concerns with a warm smile perfected after years of practice, nudging a pile of his clothes in your hands and urging you towards the shower, telling you to freshen up and make yourself at home while he makes breakfast. He’s setting the table and placing the hot food on the dining table when he hears your footsteps and he turns to greet you, only to freeze as he takes in your appearance.
Red is most certainly your color and it takes every ounce of self control in him not to devour you right then and there as hazel eyes sweep over you, appreciating the way his old Nekoma jersey hangs off your frame, the way his old Nekoma sweatpants are far too long for you, only serving to make you even more endearing in his eyes as you’re enveloped in his clothing and his scent. But he busies himself with piling food onto your plate and beckoning you to sit, subtly gritting his teeth as he wills his body to calm down. 
Not yet. There’s far too many steps of his plan he needs to get through first before he can fully claim his prize. He’d gotten a taste of you, a helpful reminder and incentive to push him to the finish line, and that will have to do for now. 
And it’s not like he has much longer to wait, not when you so easily fall for his mischievous smile, not when you don’t question why your work trips feel more like a couples retreat as time goes on, not when you’re flinging your arms around him in overwhelming joy when he officially asks you to be his girlfriend. 
Kuroo pats himself on the back for his patience and feigned kindness when you nervously tell him you want to take the physical aspect of your relationship slowly, shyly reminding him that you’re a virgin and that he’s your first significant other. 
Oh sweetheart, you don’t know how much self-control it takes not to burst out laughing at how wrong you are about half of that statement and he just nods along as his mind drifts away remembering that night, remembering the feeling of your body underneath his. 
But he keeps his promise. It’s not his fault that you’re such a needy little thing. And he laughs when you pout and whine about him not holding your hand enough, not cuddling as close to you as you want, not kissing you the way you like. Smug satisfaction races through him when you’re the one who crawls into his lap, when you’re the one chasing his lips after he presses a chaste sweet kiss to your forehead, when you’re the one lightly tugging at his sleeve before he can leave your apartment, meekly asking him to stay the night with you.
You swear there’s something strangely familiar about the way Kuroo’s cock splits you in half the first time you fully give yourself up to him, a faint echo of remembrance in your mind as he drags against your walls, setting a smooth and slow pace that has you deliriously feeling every little movement. But you don’t have time to dwell on it, not when you’re writhing and moaning underneath his toned body, screaming for more, more, more, sounding more like a desperate slut than a shy virgin, not even denying Kuroo’s degrading comments as his demeanor shifts. 
“My, my, you’re quite the whore even though this is your ‘first time’, kitten. Maybe you were born to take my cock, be my little cock slave.” 
You wail as his pace quickens, the new angle as he throws one leg over his shoulder making your mind go blank. 
“Fuck, you’re tightening up so much. Only a slut would feel this good her first time. Come on, cum all over this cock, show me how much you love it.”
And as if his words are direct triggers for your body, something inside of you snaps at the growled command and you scream as your back arches, pussy shuddering and clenching around the length inside of it, eyes rolling back in your head and jaw going slack as he continues fucking you through the waves of pleasure. 
But you whimper when Kuroo abruptly pulls out of you, drool pooling in your mouth when he moves until his cock is positioned over your face, lewd moans escaping you as he mockingly slaps his length against your face, smearing pre-cum and your own fluids all over you. 
“Stick your tongue out. I’m going to paint this pretty face and you’re going to thank me, okay? Maybe if you’re lucky you’ll get to taste some.” 
It’s embarrassing how quick you are to obey, tongue sloppily lolling out as thick strands of drool begin to trail down your face. But you don’t care, too entranced by the sight, smell, and feeling of Kuroo’s cock so close to you, mesmerized by the motion of his hand rapidly pumping the hard length. And you moan as sticky hot fluid splatters across your face, tongue wagging in the air in a desperate attempt to catch as much of the liquid as you can, a litany of thank you, thank you, thank you streaming from your mouth. 
Kuroo’s always found you irresistible, but now that you’re completely his, putty in his hands to shape and mold to his liking? You’re absolutely addicting. It’s endearing how obedient and eager to please him you are, never even questioning any of the obscene training and sessions he puts you through as he corrupts every part of your body.
The slightest things turn you on now and he cruelly laughs as you cum from just your nipples, just your ass, just from sucking his cock, teasing you as you come undone from just his voice, his humiliating words, the sight of his cock. 
It doesn’t take long for him to turn you into his little cum dumpster and he wonders if you had any pride as a human being, as a female, as you let him bring you to the clinic and just nervously hold his hand as the doctor inserts an IUD into you. And he smirks down at you as you practically jump him as soon as the two of you are back in your shared apartment, lewdly shaking your ass at him and presenting like an animal in heat, a desperate whine in your voice as you beg him to finally cum inside of you. 
But he refrains, reprimanding you for being such a desperate, demanding slut and reminding you that you need to wait at least 24 hours before he could do that, before the little contraption inside of you fully takes effect. You pout, but he snorts at how quick you are to brighten up again as he untucks his cock out as he leans back in his armchair as you crawl between his legs. 
“If you want my cum that badly, use your other holes for now.” 
Needless to say, you are a cum covered and filled mess by the time 24 hours is up and Kuroo whistles as he examines the debauched sight you are, swiping a finger through the hardening white clumps on your face, your breasts, and your stomach, pulling apart your ass cheeks and watching in amusement as globs of sticky fluids leak from your puckered hole. 
“You really do look like a cum dumpster now. I think you need to be demoted from kitten. Still want me to fill up your pussy?” 
His trademark grin spreads across his face as you eagerly hook your arms behind your knees and pull your bent legs up to your shoulders, putting your messy lower region on full display for him, a pleading look on your face.
“Of course you do. You really are just a cum slut now, aren’t you?”
And who is Kuroo to deny his love what she wants? What he wants? 
He swears he’ll never get tired of the way your walls squeeze and tighten around him, the way you scream his name, and as he splatters thick white stripes inside of your tight heat and pulls out, he swears he’ll never get tired of the way your fluttering hole looks as his seed begins to trickle out of you, already feeling his cock twitch in interest again at the mesmerizing sight. 
And as he bends you in half, slamming his erect cock inside of you yet again, he wonders if he could breed you enough, stuff you full of so much semen that even your IUD fails to prevent an unplanned pregnancy. His grip on you tightens and his pace only increases at the thought of your stomach bloating from the amount of cum he wants to fill you with, the thought of you waddling around with a stomach round with his seed and children, tits expanding and leaking with milk, the thought of you always being filled to the brim and smelling like sex, like cum, like sin. 
But all of that can wait for now. He’ll have a volleyball team worth of kids with you one day soon, already looking forward to a future where you’re nothing but his good slutty housewife whose only purpose is to pleasure him and bear his children, whose only place is in his bed. But for now, for the next few years, he wants to push your body and mind to its absolute limits, completely break you in ways he can’t do if you’re pregnant. 
After all, he won’t be an irresponsible husband or father. He knows he can’t be too rough with a pregnant woman, even if you’re more like a fuck doll than a human now. 
So he takes out his darkest desires on you now. But maybe he had spoiled you too much, turned you into a pleasure slut. And he scowls as you cry and whine about how mean he’s being, how you don’t like him hitting you as he tests out a new paddle and a new flogger he had bought in pretty pink just for you.
Ungrateful brat. 
He tries to calm you down and persuade you with gentle words, asking where his sweet little girl who always listens and trusts him is. Doesn’t he always make you feel good? But you wear away at his patience as you throw a temper tantrum, physically shoving him away from you as you shout and scream. 
“Tetsurou, it hurts! Stop it!”
How dare you defy him? How dare you lay a hand on him? How dare you think you have any right to tell him what to do? 
Clearly you need a reminder of who’s in charge, who owns you. 
You squeal in surprise when you’re suddenly being manhandled into an embarrassing position, unable to put up much of a fight against Kuroo’s much stronger and larger body as he shoves your face into the mattress and forces your ass even higher into the air, pulling back both of your arms and swiftly cuffing your wrists to your ankles. You struggle, pulling at your restraints and moving as much as you can, but your face heats up at the mocking laugh you hear from behind you. 
“Keep on resisting, kitten. The view is great from back here.” 
You immediately still when you realize that all you can do is wiggle your ass in the position he’s locked you in and tears bubble in your eyes as you plead with him to release you, to just fuck you and make you feel good like he usually does. 
“Tetsurou, please fuck me? Make me feel good? I don’t like any of this! I don’t want to be tied up or hurt-”
Your words get lost in the scream forced out of you as Kuroo roughly swats your thighs and ass with the paddle, repeating the motion over and over again until you’re unable to form words, until your entire bottom aches, until the sheets under your face are soaked through with tears and drool. And even then he doesn’t stop, not until your pained sobs turn into quiet hiccuped cries and you stop trying to wiggle away from him, only flinching a bit instinctively with every smack. 
You slump in relief when there’s finally a pause, a lull in the rhythmic torture. 
“Tetsu-”
You whimper when that earns you another swift hit to your sore and abused ass. 
“Bad girls don’t deserve to say my name. Little girls like you need to learn their place. Now tell daddy how sorry you are for being a disobedient brat.” 
You hesitate, unsure how you feel about being belittled and treated like a misbehaved child, testing your lover’s new title in your head, but any doubt flies out the window when the flogger is being slapped against your vulnerable pussy and clit.
“Daddy, I’m sorry! I’m sorry for being a bad girl. Daddy can do whatever he wants to me.” 
Kuroo watches in satisfaction as your resistance crumbles to pieces in front of him as you alternate between brokenly crying out “daddy” and “sorry” over and over again, unconsciously shaking your hips in both an attempt to escape the stinging pain of the flogger and an attempt to gain more stimulation on your erect clit. 
“For all your earlier complaining, babygirl, you sure are soaking wet. Does it feel good? Answer me!”
You wail as the flogger sharply hits your clit. 
“Yes, daddy!! Feels so good!” 
“See? Daddy knows best. Now be a good girl and cum from having your pussy and clit smacked around like a naughty little pain slut.”
Kuroo is relentless as he continuously flicks his wrist, expertly hitting your throbbing clit with every motion. And wound up, overwhelmed, and desperate for release, you don’t take long to fall apart under his encouraging words and stimulation, panting for breath as relieved tears and drool smear your face as pleasure washes over you. 
But your dismayed sobs begin anew when you realize your lover doesn’t intend to stop, shoving a vibrator inside of your still quivering hole as he alternates between slapping your clit and your ass, pain and pleasure mixing together into an entangled mess you can’t separate. 
“I’m nowhere done with you yet, sweetheart. We’re not stopping until you can’t tell the difference between pain and pleasure, until your pussy becomes sopping wet from anything I do to you. Would you like that? To be my slutty little girl who cums no matter what horrible things I do to her? Of course you do. Now be good for me and be grateful that I’m even letting you cum as much as you want. Next time you decide to act out, I’ll take away that privilege.”
All you can do is weakly nod your head as your eyes roll back into your head and your mouth hangs loose, unable to do anything else except take everything Kuroo gives you. And maybe Kuroo is right. Maybe he always does know what’s best. Because despite your earlier hesitation and rejection of his cruel actions, it’s like something inside of you has snapped and you can’t stop cumming, breaking apart over and over again despite the lancing pain that constantly tinges the surface of your delirious pleasure. It feels so good, almost too good, and now you’re crying for a different reason as you drown in the unending pleasure, but not daring to lift a hand or open your mouth because you’re not sure you ever want it to end, terrified of Kuroo following through with his threat and denying you of the enslaving pleasure. 
But just when your body threatens to collapse, trembling in exhaustion, your heavy eyelids fluttering open and shut as black spots enter your peripheral, it all stops and you take long shaky breaths as warm hands unbind you, melting into the reassuring touch as calloused fingers massage your aching limbs and gently lay you fully down on the bed. 
It’s so hard to remember why you had been so scared, so hurt, so angry at Kuroo earlier when he smiles at you like that, when all you see is love in his eyes as he cradles your body. And you curl up into his chest, jolting in pain and murmuring “daddy, it hurts” as he tenderly massages a healing ointment into the smarting welts and marks he’s left all over your body, meekly nodding your head when he coos down at you. 
“Daddy knows it hurts, but this will make it feel better soon. Keep on being a good girl for me, okay?” 
And you fall asleep like that, lulled to slumber by the soothing patterns he draws on your skin as he continues applying the medicine onto you, unaware of the way he admires how beautiful and broken you look, something dark gleaming in his eyes as he takes a mental note of how you’re still calling him by his new title instead of his given name as you instinctively tuck yourself closer to his body for comfort despite him being the reason you need comfort in the first place. 
You really are his sweet and stupid little girl, aren’t you? But that’s okay. He wouldn’t have it any other way.
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potter-imagines · 4 years
Text
Not Like The Movies (Fred Weasley)
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader 
Request: Fred Weasley imagine where him and Angelina are kind of “talking” but the reader and Angelina are really good friends and she doesn’t know that there “talking” so when Angelina tells her, she seems okay with it, “it’s not like I’ve liked him since first year.” And since she’s on the quidditch team, she kind of drops out. And starts to hung out more with Cedric and that’s when Fred gets jealous and realizes it was never Angelina but the reader. the whole reason he liked Angelina was because of some letters she gave him but she never wrote them, the reader did...Happy ending with Fred and reader.
Warning: None, just swearing and lil angst
Word Count: 11.7k (got carried away, soooo sorry)
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Falling in love with your best friend was nothing short of a curse for you. Sadly, life was not like the movies and sometimes, the person you’re in love with just simply does not feel the same. Movies promised you magic. Laughing and crying, music swelling, camera panning, and always a happy, or satisfying ending. Late at night when you would fall asleep, the image of your best friend would flash across your mind, encapsulating your subconscious. You pictured him lying beside you, telling you jokes and holding you in his arms. You dreamed about what it was like to be his, to call him yours. You thought about how it would feel as  he gently strokes your cheek with his palm and his lips find yours. The camera sweeps and falls. We fade to black and everytime, your eyes open from your sleep and the movie comes to an end.
Having grown up with the boy and his twin, falling in love was the easy part; admitting your feelings became the obstacle. It put a slight wedge between your friendship with Fred. You hated how easy it was to fall for him. His stupid laugh, stupid smile, stupid heart, stupid kindess, everything about him was so stupidly loveable.
Although Fred didn’t exactly give you reasons to not feel this way. In actuality, Fred Weasley made it nearly impossible not to fall in love with him. It started with meeting you in the common room each morning and escorting you around the castle, sometimes with George but mostly alone. He’d ‘jokingly’ hold your hand, swinging it widely back and forth as you skipped down the halls. During Qudditch, his attention always trailed off the tracks to you, even when he was miles up in the sky flying around. His eyes would dart to you, just to confirm that you were okay. He was your go to study buddy- although it would typically consist of whispering jokes and talking about your day, rather than studying. Fred was always the one to invite you to his home for break, not that his other siblings didn’t want you, Fred just wanted to be the one who got to ask you. During parties in the common room, you were glued to his side. Fred would toss his arm around your shoulder casually as you sat with your friends. He’d cuddle you on the couch while you chatted away with your friends. You two were never safe from the teasing of your friends, especially George. George Weasley had been pawning for you and his brother to get together since his second year.
Now, there was never an official title given to your uh, predicament. This didn’t mean that people weren’t aware of what was occurring. Hell, even Ron was in on the loop. So, it wasn’t hard for everyone else in the Gryffindor common room to comprehend your shock and anger when you walked in only to find Fred Weasley practically snogging Angelina Johnson on the main couch. Your mouth dropped instantly and your eyes were bugging. And everyone was looking between the pair, and your sudden entrance.
You felt like the ringleader at a circus and all the audience had their eyes on you, the crowd consisting of your few friends who knew your feelings. The voice in your head screamed at you to take action- to go rip Angelina off Fred’s lap and toss her to the ground. It was a vile urge, one that never popped in your thoughts before now. Burning holes into their heads you narrowed your gaze as Angelina snaked her arm around Fred’s broad shoulder, leaning her body into the touch. As if it was second nature, Fred’s arm slipped around her wait, snatching her body forward with a cheeky wink. Your mouth went dry, sahara desert dry. The inside of your stomach coiled into tight knots, a sickening sensation budding. An echoing scream filled your mind, yelling at you to look away, just look away Y/n. Something building, maybe curiosity or maybe disbelief, simply wouldn’t allow this.
Hermione pulled at your hand, silently begging you to walk away with her. You hear the sound of her demanding voice whispering to you, although you neglected to process them. Neither Fred nor Angelina seemed to notice all the attention- if they did, they did a good job hiding it. An indescribable mix of emotion brewed; Angelina Johnson was your close friend next to Hermione. Since first year, she has been your roommate, your potions partner, a chaser just like you, and an amazing friend. She even spent a month of the summer holiday at your home, for crying out loud! You wanted to be angry, you wanted so bad to just scold Angelina and tell her how bad the sight was before you hurt to watch, but you couldn’t. Despite your solid friendship, Angelina was never informed on the feelings you had developed for Fred. In second year you had confessed to her that you had a small crush on the twin, but nothing else ever came. Of course you didn’t know Angelina had liked Fred either. Angelina, Fred, George, and yourself were all in the same school year and house so naturally a friendship arose. As years dwindled on, Angelina drifted away a bit and started spending more time with Alicia Spinott and Katie Bell. You still made time for each other- not to mention living together and spending at least a few hours each day together.
But when Angelina shifted groups, it left you room to grow closer with Fred and George. By your third year, Lee had filled in Angelina’s spot and the four of you raked havoc among Hogwarts. Lee Jordan was a great friend, he always let you sit up in the announcing booth during Quidditch matches when Gryffindor wasn’t playing. In those cases, he was vocally cheering you on through the microphone as you raced around the pitch. When it came to Fred and George, there was a different type of bond you created. You had spent nights on end sprawled around the dorm room of the Weasley twins, chatting about everything and nothing for hours. They invited you in on their pranks, showed you their prized Marauders Map, brought you to The Burrow for holidays, bought you presents for Christmas/birthdays, visited you during the summer, and more. The three of you always sat together in class, sometimes making Lee move a table over. It was always the three of you. Somewhere along the way, you started looking at one twin in particular in a different light. Both were handsome, but something about Fred made your heart race. Everytime his hand brushed against your during class, an electric tingle shot through your spine. He was protective over you, in a brotherly way you assumed, but it was sweet nonetheless. Even during matches Fred always kept an eye out for you on the Quidditch pitch. Never did he miss the chance to gloat about how he basically saved your life three different times. After a long day of class, the two of you would sometimes cuddle on the couch in the common room or in his dorm while talking with George. It was a running joke among your friends about the two of you dating. George loved to tease you two, making kissy faces and telling the two of you to ‘get together already’. George was certainly not the first, nor only, person to make such comments to Fred and yourself. Hermione asked weekly when you would start dating, Harry would question every so often, Ginny asked every hour when you’d get married, and Ron hardly paid enough attention to notice anything occurring.
Pestering and prodding, their questions remained unanswered. You never quite knew what to say, but George, Hermione, Ginny, and even Harry, knew. They kept silent in your presence. Behind closed doors, they seemed to have figured it out. Ron was present for all this but once again, he really didn’t care much to give an overload of input. He wasn’t too interested though and only came to feel a part of the discussion.
The person they couldn’t figure out was Fred Weasley. For the first time in his life, George couldn’t give a solid answer on how his twin was feeling. Typically, George always knew. He was certain Fred had fancied you when they were younger but now in your sixth year, it was hard for him to tell. The two of you had been flirting for years and even though it increased with every year, no actual moves ever came. George wondered if it truly was just flirting in Fred’s mind. Everytime he tiptoed near the topic of Fred’s feelings for you and if he had any, Fred shut it down in an instant. He’d tell George to ‘sod off’ and refused to speak on it. It gave George jumbled ideas.
So when Hermione came up with the idea of you spilling your feeling for Fred in an anonymous letter, it was an appealing thought. George toyed with the plan, a strange pang pulling in his guts told him this was a bad idea. He didn’t know why, but George was scared something would go wrong. He still hadn’t gotten a proper grasp on Fred’s feelings yet. If there was even a chance Fred would decline your confession of heart, George would feel terribly guilty for setting you up to fall. Harry sat this conversation out with Ron, not feeling like it was his place to be this involved. Ginny was in agreement with Hermione, of course, but George kept pushing for them to rethink. Although it was too late, you were already mentally planning a letter.
A week later you nervously handed George a small envelope. Inside was a folded up piece of parchment and in black ink was the words of your emptying out your heart to Fred. You dedicated a small poem to him, then on another page, you dropped small hints about your identity. You included memories, such as meeting on the Hogwarts Express, playing Quidditch together, trips to Hogsmeade, late nights talk, and more. Part of you hoped he solved the mystery right away. The larger part of you crossed your fingers that he felt the same way.
Taking your letter, George was sweating in fear. He had never been so unsure of his brother’s reaction in his life. There were many different ways this could go; the main two being either really really well, or really really bad. For some reason, George was leaning towards the latter.
Hermione on the other hand insisted Fred felt the same. She could sense it, whatever that means. You knew your friend was the most brilliant witch of your time, but she seemed wrong about this one. And now, as you stood staring at your roommate and best friend snuggled up on the couch you were just cuddling with him on last week, Hermione most definitely seemed to be wrong about this one.
Before you got the chance to see Fred and Angelina take their exchanges any further, a tall frame stepped in front of you, blocking your path of sight. Tilting your head up you were met with the soft, pitiful eyes of George Weasley. The other half of your trio reached out and held your shoulders in his hands, gripping your focus.
“We need to talk.”
Hermione followed George up to her door without creating any commotion. They didn’t want to catch anyone’s attention who would question their exit, especially Fred or Angelina. Speaking of which, Hermione led you and George to her dorm as it seemed to be the only chance of you not having to face either of the pair. Slamming the door with a huff, Hermione spun around and pointed to the tall Weasley shifting awkwardly.
“So what the bloody hell was that, George?” Hermione cut through the tension with her sharp words. You refused to meet either of their eyes. The lazer like study of George  melting into the side of your head. Your friend slugged over to the bed across from Hermione’s and plopped down. A heavy, tiresome, sigh fell from his lips.
“I just found out last night- I had no clue until Fred told me last night. She was leaving and… I’m just as lost as you guys.”
“What about the letter?” Hermione crossed her arms, starting over at George in anticipation.
“Lee told Fred ‘bout how he saw Angelina by our dorm earlier last week so Fred thinks she’s the one who wrote the letter. Guess it made him interested in her- I don’t know if he asked her about them or not but I guess they went out last week and now they’re… a thing? I don’t know, I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t know what to say, he just told me about it right before you came in. I wouldn’t have let you walk in that otherwise- Y/n I swear on that.” Shaking your head, you could feel the emotions bottling up to a spillage. Running a hand over your reddening face you expressed,n
“I know, George. It’s not your fault, I’m not mad at you, I could never. Just mad at the situation. I was stupid to think it would work between us.”
Hermione sat on the end of her bed, her eyes glaring out the window. Her head snapped in your direction. Mouth crack open ajar, her angry expression turned to disbelief and guilt. Shaking her head back and forth she exclaimed,
“It was my idea for you to write the letter, Y/n. I’m the one who should be apologizing for getting you into this mess-”
“No really, it’s not your guys fault. It’s no ones. If Fred likes Angelina then, he likes Angelina. I can’t change that and telling him I was the one who wrote the letter certainly won’t change that either. Love fucking sucks!” You shouted. George’s hands fumbled in his lap as he desperately tried to avoid your frame. He wasn’t sure he could handle the image. To George, the responsibility lay upon his shoulders but his heart suddenly broke into  million tiny pieces when he registered the small sobe choking out. The tears uncontrollably began to roll. You covered your mouth as you fell back into the bed sheets. Salty tears streamed down your cheeks, skipping down the skin. They poured from the side of her skin, splashing against the blanket underneath her.
The familiar grip of George wrapped around your body in an instant. Hermione attached herself as well, the two of them comforting you together. It was soothing to feel his hands rubbing against your back, and Hermione’s head resting on your shoulder.
“Y/n, no, no, please don’t cry, love. Please- shit Y/n, I’m so sorry.” You slumped into their arms, allowing their hugs.
George decided to stay for a few hours. The three of you just laid in Hermione’s bed chatting quietly about everything and anything except Fred Weasley. They made an effort to weave every conversation away from that danger zone. George placed a pillow in his lap, allowing you a seat for your head. Hermione’s bed wasn’t big enough for the three of you to sit spaciously so, he made do. Besides, George was your best friend so it was far more natural for him to cuddle with you than Hermione. He was sure Ron would have an earful for him if that was the case. Hermione sat with her back against the bed frame similar to George. His hands petted your hair delicately, lulling you into a deep sleep. Exhaustion from tears and disappointment, your slumber arrived quickly. As your light snores bounced off the stone walls of Hermione’s dorm room, she nudged George. He looked over in a second with a curious gaze.
“Does he really like her? Angelina?” She whispered the words so faint, they almost went unnoticed to George.
“I don’t know, Hermione. I mean… he’s my bloody twin and never has he ever even mentioned finding her attractive let alone wanting to date her. It’s all just… shocking. I should get going soon, though. Catch him before he goes to bed and maybe then I can get some answers.” George slowly lifted from the bed. He set his hand behind your head for support as he moved the pillow. As light as a feather, he placed your head down on the pillow and backed away as quiet as a mouse. The clock was approaching two in the morning and his heavy lids were starting to collapse. It wasn’t a terrible walk to his room, but it also wasn’t lightning speed. His sleepiness was taking over and if he fell asleep in Hermione’s bed with both her and you, he’d be expelled before sunrise, no matter the circumstance.
Hermione nodded and slipped down so she was laying in her bed. She
“Alright, George. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Taking a step out the door, the tall boy stuck his head back
“You want me to carry her up to her room?” He asked kindly. Hermione looked up at him, clearly doubtful on his offer. “For some reason, I don’t think Y/n will be too pleased to wake up in the same room as Angelina.” They both laughed, careful not to wake you. George mentally face palmed.
“Right. Can’t say that doesn’t make sense. Uh, goodnight, Hermione. Thanks for staying with her.” George mumbled awkwardly. The young witch just smiled and waved to him.
“Of course. Goodnight, George.”
By the time George had trudged back to his room, Fred was passed out, sleeping on top of his blankets instead of under, so George decided to hold off on setting his twin right. As he fell asleep, his thoughts worried about you. He was scared you would hide yourself away, detach from him in order to keep distance from his twin. George considered you to be his best friend, and having you hurt by the actions of his brother made him feel like shit. He found himself praying to whatever god might be listening that when the sun peaked up behind the darkness, you would be okay. Although when morning came, no one could find you. Hermione informed George that you had sneaked out early when the sun rose and she had yet to see you since.
Fred stumbled down the steps and into the common room around noon, rubbing his eyes in a groggy state. His feet dragged across the floor resembling more of a zombie than a human. Just as he entered, George, Harry, Ron and Hermione were standing from the leather sofa heading for the portrait. Ron was the one who noticed Fred and happily invited him along for their lunchtime run.  This earned an overdramatic roll of the eyes from Hermione and an awkward wince from Harry. The not so subtle gesture made Fred tilt his head. Nonetheless, he agreed, placing himself at George’s side and giving him a side hug.
The five took off for the dinning hall, making small talk as they went.
George’s jaw hit the floor as he waltzed into the Great Hall only to find you sitting at the end of the Hufflepuff table with Cedric Diggory. He stood, the wind knocked out of him in utter astonishment. Based on the events of the night before, he was expecting you to be still cuddled into Hermione’s bed, or eyes brimming with tears, but you were the exact opposite. A bright, million dollar smile shined from your face. George could hear your laughter from the adjacent direction of the dinning hall. Cedric was sitting beside you, his arms resting on the table as his eyes gazed at you. Everyone knew you guys were friends but it was more, acquaintances or classmates rather than best friends. He pondered if this was your act of retaliation against Fred getting with Angelina- or maybe you truly were trying to move on. No matter the reality, George knew this wasn’t just two friends catching up, and if that was the case, you two had a weird way of showing it.
The sight made a large grin creep to Hermione’s lips. Harry and Ron were completely lost in translation as to why you were sitting with him and Fred, well Fred was livid. So livid the shade of his cheeks was an exact match to the shade of his hair, and everyone saw it. He stopped walking and, quite loudly, choked on the thick air of the room. Some looked over at the sound, intrigued George kicked at the back of his shoe, signaling Fred to keep walking. He obliged, but his focus stayed trained on you and Cedric. At their movement, he slowly lifted his head and was greeted with the fiery eyes of Fred. A teasing smirk hit his lips which only made the fire burning inside Fred blaze harder. Cedric leaned down softly to whisper in your ear, his words making your turn to glance at your friends. You sent them a wave, then turned back to Cedric. You’d be lying to yourself if you said it didn’t bring you a slight joy to see the visible reaction of Fred.
George dragged his brother to the Gryffindor table, practically shoving him into a seat. He sat down next to him as the rest of the group took the seats around them. All their friends were staring at Fred, waiting for his next move.
Smacking his fist on the tabletop in vexation, Fred fumed,
“Is… is that Y/n and Diggory? That’s Y/n and fucking Diggory!”
George met his brother with a deadpan expression.
“Thanks, Fred, couldn’t tell. I mean, they have been friends since our second year.” He muttered. Although this was true, you only recently started talking again. Cedric was popular among students at Hogwarts so as the years trialed on, it became harder and harder to keep a close bond with him. You never had a nasty falling out- you still waved and smiled at each other during class and in the halls, you just stopped spending your free time together as often. Cedric was constantly with his little group of friends and you were rarely disconnected from Fred and George’s hips.
But when he saw you wandering the halls, tear strokes staining your cheeks, he rekindled the friendship with his natural kindness. Wordlessly, Cedric halted his journey to the Great Hall and kneeled down in front of you, asking you what was the matter. Blame it on the lack of sleep or the heightened emotions, you spilled your emotions and confessed everything to him. His presence felt nostalgic and comfortable, it felt like the old days. After crying to him for sometime, Cedric offered to keep you company for the day.
He showed you around the greenhouse, pointing out which ones he planted and all his favorites. You then took him to the Great Lake where you walked around for an hour and shared what you had missed from each other’s lives. It was exactly what you needed to feel a little better for a while. You guys ended your trip down memory lane, and survey of the grounds, in the Great Hall, Cedric’s original destination. He invited you to sit with him and, not wanting to sit alone, you kindly tagged along. Since then, the two of you hadn’t left your spot at the Hufflepuff table. When Cedric saw your friends walking in, he decided to do you a favor and scoot a little closer, purposely making Fred twitch from the opposite side of the room.
Scoffing heavily, Fred lifted his eyebrow and motioned to Cedric and yourself.
“When the bloody hell have they ever sat together- I mean look at how fucking close they are! He’s basically on top of her… I should go see if she’s okay-” Pushing himself up from the table, a quick hand grasped at his side, snagging him back down with a thump. “No, Fred. Just let her be, she had a rough night.” The snarky cut sounded from Hermione. The curly haired girl gave a sneer to Fred, irritated soaking through her words.
“What happened? I never even saw her come in last night.”
“And why’s that?” Hermione asked, head cocked to the side, daring Fred to reply. But when he didn’t say anything, she huffed and continued, “She went to bed right after she got in- uh, I think she said something about an essay or exam. Can’t remember.”
An awkward silence took over, no one else wanting to speak up. George was scrapping around his lunch, taking small bites as he waited for someone to change the topic. Fred glared once more over to you then begrudgingly stated,
“Guess I’ll just have to ask her about it at practice tomorrow. She seems occupied.” The green-eyed monster had fully awakened in Fred. He contemplated strutting right over and yanking you away from Cedric. His blood boiled, envy tainting his circulation. A small part of Fred was beginning to believe you had feelings for him as well- well that was until now. Now, he knew you didn’t and it ripped his heart in two.
Sucking in his cheeks, Fred’s teeth toyed and bit at the skin. His knuckles remained clenched and his eyes cold.
A new group of students made their way into the Great hall, with them, Angelina Johnson.
“Hey Fred.” Angelina was smiling, a sickeningly sweet smile that made the skin under her eyes crinkle. Hermione noticed the unfamiliar tint of peach kissing her lips. She rolled her eyes, annoyance growing at Angelina putting in the extra effort to look nice for Fred. She never wore makeup, and Hermione had to resist the urge to throw her glass of water on the girl’s face. Although younger than you, Hermione was extremely protective of you as you were with her. She was your closest girlfriend and Hermione was not about to let Angelina stomp all over you.
Fred Weasley broke his gaze from you to turn to Angelina. A fake smirk hit his face as he greeted her.
“Angelina, hi.” Ron and Harry listened in, trying to act like they weren’t paying attention. They weren’t huge on drama like this- it was a lose lose for Ron to get involved seeing as Fred was his older brother. Harry preferred to remain in his own conflict- Merlin knows he had a laundry list of those.
The older Gryffindor girl had her hand in her hair, fingers twisting a strand absentmindedly. Instead of dressing down for the sluggish Sunday, Angelina had on a tight red and black plaid skirt, and a tight, slightly unbuttoned white long sleeve.
“I was wondering, you wanna go back to the common room with me? Thought we could hangout for a while.” Leaning to her hip, a seductive gleam twinkled in her eyes. Ron could feel the gag creeping up his throat. Everyone, even Fred, had to hold back from scoffing at the girl. Right as Fred went to decline her proposal, his eyes drew over to you. The resentment and fury hit his bloodstream again when he saw Cedric leaning in so close that his lips were almost brushing your cheeks. He narrowed in on you moving towards his touch, the laughter that cascaded from your lips at his whispers. Out of spite, Fred grinned up at Angelina and nodded his head.
“Sure,” Fred propped his hands on either side of the table, lifting himself up, “I’ll see you guys later.” He commented before taking off with Angelina out of the Great Hall. George pushed the food around on his plate, trying to think of a way to make things right. He hated having his two best friends in a standoff, one that his dim twin seemed to not even understand. Looking up, George saw your eyes watching Fred and Angelina leaving the hall, hand-in-hand.
Cedric reached out for your hand, giving it a tight squeeze in an attempt to distract you. His hands were warm in your cold grip and the comfort was slim. If it were Fred’s hands in your own, maybe it would feel different. Resting your head on the wooden table, Cedric could barely make out your sorrowful mumble.
“See, I told you. He’s not interested.”
The kind Hufflepuff shook his head, the sandy brown locks in his hair swinging as he did. To him, it was obvious. Maybe it was a guy thing, but Cedric could feel the heat fuming off Fred from the other side of his room. It was obvious to him that seeing you and Cedric so close together, got under his skin.
Setting his fork down, Cedric wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side.
“Y/n, darling, that is the exact opposite as not interested- he’s only leaving with her because he got jealous that you’re with me! You can’t tell me all that glaring and pouting and red face was because he’s ‘not interested’ in you.” You sat stunned at his words, not having a comeback ready at all. He made a valid point- one that infected your thoughts. Was Fred actually upset that you were with Cedric? No, you declared, he had Angelina, why would he care about who you were with. An answer for Cedric still hadn’t come so you shrugged to him, and started digging into the food on your plate.
A hearty, childlike, chuckle eliminated from Cedric as he gave you one last side hug,
“See, I told you.” He mocked teasingly. You glared at him playfully then glanced over at the Gryffindor table. George Weasley had already turned towards you, silently pleading for you to come over. You mentioned to the east entrance of the dinning hall, signaling for him to meet you there. Excusing yourself politely from Cedric, you promised to return later in the evening, telling him you needed to take care of some business. He of course sweetly obliged, waving to you as you left his table, then joined up with his friends.
George jogged off after you, quickly meeting you outside of the hall. Before you could say hello, he was already diving in.
“You’re mad, woman. Absolutely mad! Do you see how angry Fred was? Cause I was sitting at him and he was incensed! I swear- he was about to leap over there and fight Cedric!” George’s hollar rang to the tippy top of the Astronomy tower. Passerbys leered nosily, wanting a taste of the gossip. Shoving George lightly, you started walking towards the Gryffindor side of the castle with him on your tail.
“Doesn’t matter- he’s with Angelina.” You stated. As much as you wanted the conversation to vanish, George wasn’t about to let you go that easy. Following by your side, an ear shattering laugh came from George.
“Y/n, he only went to hangout with her because he was livid about you and Cedric!”
The traffic in the hall was overwhelming. For a Sunday, there sure were a lot of students roaming the halls. The younger students basically ogled over the two of you as you passed by. First and second year Gryffindors always thought of the Weasley twins and gods for their notorious pranks, and by association, you as well. A group of first year Gryffindor students were crowded around the Cobblestone Courtyard, trying to sneak points and stares at you two. George and you waved over to the boys, their eyes widening at your gestures, but returning a shaky wave back nonetheless. You both continued walking, trying to keep the conversation as light as possible. “Whatever, George.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you sent him a pointed look, stopping dead in your tracks. Turning to a softer tone you asked, “Would you do me a small favor?”
His eyes squinting, George flattened his lips into a thin line.
“What kind of a favor?”
“Just come to McGonagall’s office with me and I’ll explain on the way.” You insisted. Having nothing better to do and wanting to probe your brain for a bit longer, George agreed. However when you made it to the tower of the teacher's offices, he started to regret coming along. The two of you climbed your way up to the fourth floor, and George’s mouth went dry to the bone when you started knocking on the door of Professor McGonagall. Dots started to connect and before George had the chance to stop you, McGonagall’s door creaked open and the beloved Professor
“Miss. Y/l/n, Mr. Weasley, what can I do for the two of you? You didn’t explode a laboratory again, did you?” The tiredness in her voice was noticeably as she prepared herself to deal with the consequences of your reckless pranks. Instead, you reassured her by shaking your head.
“No, Professor, not this time. I was wondering if I could speak to you about leaving the Quidditch team?”
“What?” Both McGonagall and George asked in unison. The seriousness in your gaze answered their questions. McGonagall gave you a bewildered look, not expecting your request in the slightest. George couldn’t move. His feet were cemented to the floor- not giving a single budge. Ever since you were age qualified for tryouts, Fred, George, and you had been on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Your third year you were all starters and it hasn't changed since. Everyone could agree, even your opponents, that you were the top chaser in the school, next to a seventh year Ravenclaw boy. You were faster than most, strategic, quick on your feet, and were an excellent flyer.
George went to pull for your hand, destined to make you rethink. But you moved your hand away before your skin touched. He couldn’t think of the words to yell at you to stop, for once in his life. McGonagall flicked her eyes between you two, then stepped to the side, opening her office door.
“Come in, dear- both of you, come in.”
On Monday evening, the Gryffindor Quidditch team was pooled together on the pitch making conversation before practice started. Angelina Johnson stood a few feet from, giggling and whispering with Alicia and Katie. The girls would glance over to the twins every few seconds, then giggle turning back to each other. As time passed on, Fred found it quite annoying. He wasn’t dating Angelina although he wondered if that was clear to her. For the last week and a half, the pair had been sneaking around the castle, snogging in dark corridors, flirting during practice, getting handsy during class and sitting awfully close to one another in the common room. To Fred, he was just having fun and if he was being honest, it was getting a bit boring but he felt that Angelina deserved a chance.
When he found the heartfelt letter on his bed, he felt he owed it to Angelina to at least give it a try. The way she poured her heart to him on paper- it made him feel special, cared about. Fred couldn’t say with one hundred present confidence that the writer was Angelina, but Lee Jordan was certain it was her.  
Although he had been devoting most of his time to hanging out with Angelina and trying to sort out if he had any feelings, Fred noticed a change in you. After that night in the common room, seeing you became a rare occurrence. No longer did Fred walk you to and from class, Cedric did now, and sometimes George. Fred almost had a heart attack the first time he spotted you walking through the corridors with Cedric Diggory close to your hip. That was four days ago and since then, the two of you still hadn’t really spoken.
Fred kicked at the grass and sand surrounding his feet. He didn’t have the motivation nor the energy to flirt with Angelina when his mind was stuck on you. He hated the jealousy that took over when he saw you with Cedric, but he couldn’t shake the image. The sound of his younger brother shouting brought Fred back to reality. George had been standing by his side, but he had been far too quite as well. It made Fred feel like he was going crazy- like he was left out on whatever had been consuming George and yourself. He was distressed over the situation, but Ron’s screeching was too distracting to come up with any solutions. Fred peeked over to his brother as Ron demanded,
“Where’s Y/n? She’s our top Chaser- where the bloody hell is she?” Ron was frantically scanning the pitch for you. Walking up from behind the group, Oliver Wood announced his arrival with an annoyed, and irritated voice.
“McGonagall let me know this morning that y/l/n will not be joining us for the rest of the year. Guess she was falling behind in classes and McGonagall and she felt it was best to quit the team… I don’t agree, but I can’t do anything.” He clutched his broom in his left hand, nearly snapping the wood in half. Everyone crowded around could feel the anger radiating off Oliver. His lips were pressed in a stern line, and his body was stiff as a board. The rest of the team shifted under his heated glare. Oliver had a way of killing with his eyes and the baffled Gryffindor players could sense it was going to be one long practice.
Giving the team one last overlook, Oliver pivoted on his back foot and stomped off. The rest of the group exchanged quizential gleams, separate groups of chatter running amuck.
Fred could hear Alicia and Angelina talking about you. You were the third party to their line of Chasers- they had no idea what to do without you on the team anymore.
“What? She never told me that.” Angelina Johnson crossed her arms in thought, puzzled by the entire announcement. If you were behind in classes, why hadn’t you told her? Leaning her weight on her hip, Angelina looked over the twins. She knew the three of you were best friends, so she assumed they’d have answers. Fred was already looking over to her, only for some sort of answers as to why you quit. Burrowing her eyebrows, she sent him a question leer. She was just as left in the dark as he. Suddenly, a light bulb flicked in a flare. Fred turned to his twin, who was far too quiet, meaning he already knew.
“Y/n tell you she was quitting?” It was more a demand than a question, but Fred still wanted to hear George admit it. Awkwardly, George scratched at the skin of his neck. It was such an uncomfortable situation for him to be stuck in the middle of, but he loved both of you and it hurt him to see you hurt. George shrugged, switching his broom between his hands.
“Yeah, I went with her to go talk to McGonagall, I told her not to but y’know how stubborn she is. Had her mind set.” He confessed. George kept checking for their captain, for the first time he was eager for practice to begin. He didn’t care if Oliver was going to take his frustrations of you leaving the team out on them- he just wanted the conversation between himself and Fred to be over. Flying 100 laps around the pitch in one cycle was much more appealing than standing there any longer. Although his twin wasn’t about to let him slide that easy. Taking a step forward Fred seethed,
“Wait, she asked you to come with her? She didn’t even tell me anything about leaving the team. Also didn’t say anything about Diggory...” His tone was a mix of shock and jealousy. The envy dripping from his words was harsh. The white bones of his knuckles peaked out from beneath his skin as his fists clenched at his sides. This caught George’s attention but not in a positive light.
It made him tick in an unfamiliar way. To George, even though Fred was his twin, he didn’t have the right to be upset with him for being your shoulder. Yes, Fred didn’t know what exactly was going on, but he knew something was up. He had to have some sort of inkling and it irritated George that Fred was mad at him.
Scoffing deeply, George threw it right back at him,
“Not like you’ve even been around that much lately. Seems like you’ve been a bit,” His eyes shot over to one particular Chaser, then again to his twin. “Busy. Didn’t tell her about that one either, I assume.” Cold were his words and his face twisted in a scowl. Eyes wide as the moon, Fred gestured to the girl standing next to her friends.
“Angelina?” He asked in surprise. As dumbfounded as his brother seemed, George’s annoyance only extended at an alarming rate. Oliver rented the pitch and was trudging over to the group. Shaking his orange locks George scrunched his nose.
“I mean, did you tell Y/n about whatever the hell this is going on between Angelina and you. Don’t be surprised if she doesn’t tell you shit when you don’t tell her either.” He spat jarringly. The tension was boiling between the two of them and Fred was lost as to why. Stepping away, he lifted his hands in defense. “Woah, where did the attitude come from? I don’t even know what I did, George. It’s not like Y/n will even glance in my direction lately. Help me out.”
Fred was completely disconcerted, pleading to his brother with his eyes to give him some guidance. It was unlike George to keep things from his twin, and Fred needed to get to the bottom of it. Why would you confide in George? To Fred, the two of you were always a bit closer than George and yourself. There were different boundaries, different normalities between you and each twin. A weird conjunction of irk and bitterness brewed inside him. “For some reason, I don’t believe that. You know, Fred, Angelina didn’t write that letter.” His words struck Fred like a bus. Nearly giving himself whiplash, Fred snapped his sharp eyes to George as his mouth parted open. George’s focus remained on their captain who was nearing. The matter-of-fact tone to his voice had Fred even more confused. Grabbing his brother by the shoulder to force his attention, Fred gasped.
“What-” An abrupt hollar from the Gryffindor captain rang out causing the team to quiet down and look over to Oliver. With a gruff expression, Wood wasted no time diving into instructions.
“Okay everyone, gather ‘round. First piece of business, Katie, you’ll be taking over for Y/n, second piece of business…”
Fred drowned out the sound of Oliver moaning on as his mind raced to the letter. His brain repeated the sweet words over and over again. There was an extremely slim pool of people who could know all those things about him, and some of it, Fred was almost positive Angelina didn’t know. Yes, he met her his first year, but Angelina didn’t know Fred was afraid of the dark. She had no idea he hated socks. That was something he shared with you over winter break when the harsh winter forced him to wear the constricting material on his feet. Didn’t know about the scar on his knee he got last summer when Fred, George and yourself went exploring in the woods and he fell into a hunting trap. You knew all these things- but if you were the true author, Fred was almost certain you would’ve said something by now… right? That’s what made the whole situation so frustrating to him. He thought about asking Angelina, getting a straight forward response but if she did say no, what was he supposed to do. If Angelina didn’t write the letter, then who did? Did the prank king himself fall for a prank? Fred’s judgement remained clouded for the rest of the practice, despite how hard Oliver pushed them. He needed to find you and at least figure out why you had been avoiding him.
While your former teammates were hard at work on the pitch, you were sat in the courtyard with Cedric. The two of you were propped up on the brick wall, sitting half inside the corridor and half outside. Students walked past as dinner was nearing, mummering about the two of you while walking by. Those who were unaware of your history gossiped about a possible relationship. A relationship was the last thing either of you wanted for each other.
Cedric was busy telling you a story about a holiday him and his father took to Greece the year before, a country you had been dying to visit. You were invested in his story about traveling to see authentic Greek God statues when the figure of a familiar boy came into view from the corner of your eye. Behind Cedric was Fred Weasley running up to every student in his perimeter, saying something to them, then running off to the next one. He reached a Slytherin girl, asked her something, then much to your surprise, she turned around and pointed at you. Fred followed her finger until his eyes found yours. Rushing over, Fred thought you were alone until he was a foot away and the shoulder of Cedric could be seen poking out behind the pillar.
Fred stopped next to Cedric, trying his best to appear intimidating, which would’ve caused you to giggle recklessly if the situation were different.
“Y/n… Cedric. Fancy running into the two of you.”
“Hey Fred.” The confidence in Cedric’s voice almost made you laugh. He was toying with Fred because he knew he could. You didn’t have an attraction towards Cedric, and he saw you as a great friend. Fred didn’t need to know this all yet.
Now that Fred was face-to-face with Cedric, you could see that your friend was correct about noticing the jealousy. Fred snarled at the Hufflepuff, a scowl painting his face. Once he looked over to you, his features softened. Biting your lip you echoed,
“Hi.” Fred was pleased with your response, even if it was minimal, at least you were willing to acknowledge him now. That was a step.
Reaching for your hand, Fred laced his rough fingers around your own. It was a familiar feeling you had been missing for over a week. Having his attention on you was something you missed- just having him around was something you missed.
Cedric coughed awkwardly, awaiting Fred’s move. The Gryffindor glared over again then took a deep breath, resisting the ticking urge to shove the boy away from your vicinity.
“Y/n, uh, can we talk?” He paused for a moment, “Without dear Cedric around.”
“Sure. I’ll see you around, Ced.” You leaned up to hug your friend, then watched as he walked away, smirking to himself.
“Ced?” Fred muttered under his breath, earning a small frown from you. “Sorry…”
Scratching at his arm, Fred tried to figure out where to begin. There were so many questions- so many. It was impossible to declare the perfect place to start. Realizing he wasn’t going to speak first, you broke the ice.
“You just want to talk here?” The corridor was empty, expect a Ravenclaw couple stealing a nap before curfew. A pair of students would walk by every so often, but they never strayed from their path.
“Uh, I suppose. I mean you haven’t really been talking to me at all for a week, so I’ll have a conversation wherever I can get one.” Fred chuckled uncomfortably, the lack of humor on your face building tension. You were staring out at the bare courtyard, viewing the scenery of flowers and greenery. Tall trees whooshed in the wind, leaves tumbling to the green grass gracefully. Branches swung against each other, the noise helping to create a distraction.
Slipping his thumb under your chin, Fred lifted your head locking his eyes on yours. You finally peered back at him, and the look in his eyes almost made your heart crumble. A slight glossy, sadness glazed his typically wild, gleaming, happy orbs. His hand tightened on your face, although not enough to hurt.
“Y/n why won’t you even look at me, love? You’re obsessed with Quidditch almost as much as Oliver and you just upped and quit. Don’t even try the excuse of ‘falling behind in school’, we both know that’s a bold lie. You’re the brightest witch in the castle. Look at me please, love.” He pleaded. A sudden rush of irritation surged through you, irked at his words. Pushing him back, you tried to rid yourself of the boy. Stubborn as he was, Fred didn’t move a muscle.
“Stop. Stop it. You can’t say that.” Sternly you scolded him. Fred ran his free hand across his face, his frustration getting the best of him.
“I can’t say what, darling?”
Finding the strength to push him away, you glowered intensely, “You can’t call me love, and you certainly can’t call me darling. You have Angelina for that.” The last part was thrown in more to jab at Fred, wanting to make him feel even an ounce of the pain you were experiencing. It was exactly the most adult choice, but who could blame you. It’s like they say; hurt people, hurt people.
Despite the coldness of your presence, Fred wasn’t backing off. Tugging at your wrist, he pulled your attention in again. His hands were gentle yet his features were sharp.
“So, what? Can only Cedric call you that? Cause just a week ago you were fine with it- loving it actually. This has nothing to do with Angelina-” The vein in his forehead was popping out from all the emotions Fred was draining at once. The last time you saw that sort of a reaction was when Fred nearly murdered his brother Percy for delivering him personally to Snape for exploring the castle after hours. It was quite an interesting Christmas break after that stunt. Fred attempted manslaughter roughly five times during that month off.
You heard his words but all you could see was red. You couldn’t stand to hear him say her name, it made the hairs on the back of your neck rise at the thought of Fred with Angelina. A week’s worth of heartbreak, anger, and hurt exploded without warning as you leaned close to Fred and shouted feverishly,
“This has everything to do with Angelina, Fred!” The anger boiled into a scream as you shoved your finger into his chest, poking him harshly, “You were supposed to be my best friend- her too- and you never told me. You led me on, you made me think you actually had feelings for me, that I had a chance, then you went and got with my roommate, and didn’t say a word to me! You just want me to pretend everything is fine and dandy but it isn’t! You hurt me- her too, but you more than anyone. I’ve been friends with both of you since first year- I’ve been in love with you since first year- and you never even said a thing, you coward! I fucking left clues in neon signs in that letter and you still ignored them. You could’ve just told me, Fred. I can’t even look at either of you the same now. Why didn’t you tell me?” The tears were pouring like a broken faucet at this point. Salt kissed the corner of your mouth then splashed onto the stone floor. Your head fell, allowing the cries to smack right to the ground. A black shoe came into view as it stepped towards you. Refusing to look up, you silently begged for Fred to do something- anything. Soon enough, his large hand clasped around your shoulder, yanking you tightly into his chest. His arms encapsulated you into a hold, hugging you like he never had before. Instead of fighting him off, you felt your body sinking into his arms as the sobs continued. Fred’s hand reached to your head, petting at your hair in a soothing manner.
Pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, Fred lingered his lips against your skin. This was something he had down a million times but with the circumstances, it felt different this time, more genuine.
“You wrote those letters?” Fred uttered faintly. All the stars were aligning in his mind as the confession coated the air. He wanted to kick himself endlessly for putting a blindside up to all the flags. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine you, his best friend, would share the love he felt for you. He started to think back on all your little antics in a different light. How you’d hug him first after every Quidditch match- win or lose. How you’d hold only his hand when you walked to class and never George’s. How you’d braid his hair in the common room on the weekends and spend all night spilling your secrets to him. How whenever there was a party, you stayed close to his side clutching his hand, not that Fred ever let you wander far. It caused his heart to skip a beat as he fixed all the pieces together into a neat puzzle.
“Of course I fucking wrote the letters, Fred! Who else could’ve known all that, hm? I’m sure you ruled George out right away so that only leaves one of us. You didn’t want it to be me- you wanted it to be her.” Your voice cracked at the admission, turning away from Fred while the tears took control. You wanted to run off so bad, to go cry in a corner and never face anyone again. Wiping your eyes, Fred snatched your mascara smudged hand and frantically exclaimed,
“No, that’s not true! I wanted it to be you, I wanted it to be you so bad Y/n, but it was just too good to be true. When I found them on my bed, Lee said Angelina was standing outside our room right before he came up so I… I guess it was just… I don’t know. I didn’t want to risk it, I was just scared if it really was you.” Your eyes rolled in disbelief, was he really driving the dagger in even more? Was it really necessary? The message was received loud and clear as you sneered up at him.
“I get it, Fred, okay? I fucking get it so you don’t have to spell it out for me. You’re with Angelina and I’m just your friend-” For the first time in the long years of your friendship, Fred Weasley snapped at you. Never had you heard his scary, angry voice directed at you, but this time, you were the only one around to be on the receiving end.
“Will you just shut up! I’m not with Angelina- I had a thing with her but I could never be with her, Y/n. She’s just… just-ugh! She’s just not you and it’s infuriating. And if I see you in Diggory’s arms one more time, I think I’m gonna explode.” He finished, out of breath and huffing. His hand around yours had gripped harder, your fingers nearly numb. This was the least of your concerns. All you could comprehend was the rapid words of the boy in front of you.
A triumphant sensation hit your stomach. It made you a little happy to know Fred was envious of Cedric. He had no reason to be, but it still made you smirk a tiny bit. Shrugging half heartedly you mumbled,
“Now you know how I feel…”
Fred’s head shot up at this. Confusion written all over his face he questioned,
“Wait, you’re not with Cedric?”
“No, Fred! He’s my friend- unlike you and Angelina, I don’t snog Cedric.” Dragging your words out, you sent a knowing flare at Fred. He didn’t deny it though, which was what you wanted. If anything was going to happen between the two of you, you needed to be entirely honest and Fred was ready for that. Lifting your hand to his face, you opened your grasp fully, allowing it to rest against the warmth of his cheek.
“It was only once, darling. Just to see if something was there and… well, don’t tell Angelina, but it was bloody terrible. I was expecting it to be like that time we uh, ‘accidently’ kissed last year. Don’t know if you remember it but I certainly do. But um, yeah it was nothing like that. I remember when I kissed you, it felt like that feeling of comfort that I get whenever I step inside The Burrow. And with Angelina, it was more so empty. With you, I had fucking butterflies for weeks! After I kissed Angelina- I vowed I wouldn’t do it again. I never want to kiss any girl who isn’t you, I mean that, Y/n. I’ve had a crush on you since George and I sat next to you on the train to Hogwarts. I’ve been in love with you since we got off that train our first year, and I haven’t stopped since.”
“I remember everything about that day, you were my first kiss after all.” A smile graced your lips at the memory. You had joined the Weasley’s for the last month of summer break, only months ago. Fred, George, and yourself were up late one night in their room gossiping about the new drama you had missed while apart. You laid on your stomach on Fred’s bed, and George on his. Fred sat cross legged beside you, his arm lying on your back. After a few hours, Ginny knocked to inform you she was heading to bed. Taking a risky gamble, Fred begged Molly to let you sleep in their room on a makeshift cot. It took him a little over three weeks to get a yes from her- but with the limitation that the door stay open no matter the hour.
Ginny would stop in every night to wish you a good sleep. Although small in retrospect, this was a big reason Fred fell even more in love with you, the way his little sister looked up at you as if you were the most beautiful creature to ever lay foot on this earth- not that Fred would deny this. He agreed fully, but it made him happier than ever to know that his family loved you and consider you an honorary Weasley. He hoped one day he’d be able to make you an official Weasley, but that would come further down the road.
George crashed around three and Fred and yourself decided to lay in his bed for a few more hours before hitting the hay. You knew you’d have to sneak back to your cot before sunrise or Molly would execute Fred- not you of course, just Fred. She never found you guilty for any of their disastrous plans.
After an hour or so, you were laying next to Fred, staring up at the ceiling as he explained to you all the reasons on how he was superior to George in Quidditch, a conversation that he would only win when George was passed out. For some reason, this led to Fred rambling on about the first time he saw you flying, how he knew you would be an exquisite flyer. Maybe it was because of the kind compliments and the admiration it created inside of you but you placed a soft kiss to the corner of Fred’s lip mid sentence as he gushed about your Quidditch skills. 
As you pulled away, Fred pulled you forward again, this time initiating the kiss himself and smacking his lips entirely on yours. Although it was your first kiss, you caught on quick. Fred moved to hover over you which caused your kiss to break and reality to set in. You both went as white as a ghost, frozen in place. Fred just stayed on top of you, unsure of what to do next. His heart urged him to kiss you again but the look of shock on your face made him doubt this idea. After an awkward minute of this, you slowly slid out from under him and sprinted to the makeshift bed, hiding under the covers until morning. It was embarrassing to say the least but neither of you mentioned it since. You went back to normal the next day, pretending the kiss was a figment of your imaginations. But it was as real as your feelings and it happened. You pondered now if you had kissed him again back on that night, maybe you would’ve been together sooner.
Pulling you back into the moment, Fred peeled your hand from his face and scattered a line of kisses to your knuckles,
“If you’d let me, I’d like to be your last.”
“What exactly are you asking me, Freddie?” You smiled, a sugary confection grin, like the world was finally turning in your favor. A gleeful grin took over Fred at the nickname your gifted him. Leaving a chaste peck to the back of your hand, Fred leaned into your touch. “I’ve missed that so much, love. You’re the only one besides mum and George that can call me Freddie. But,” Eyes meeting your, you could feel your heart melting under his gaze. “I want to ask you if you’d be my girlfriend?” If you weren’t standing so close, his whispered words would’ve gone unheard. Luckily for the both of you, they fully registered in your head and heart. Pinching at the skin of your arm, you reassured yourself this was in fact real and not a dream. Fred really was standing in front of you confessing everything you had been dying to hear since your first year. You figured you must have been staring for far too long as a look of fear flashed across Fred’s face.
“Freddie, of course I’ll be your girlfriend!”
“Merlin’s beard- you had me scared, darling.” He hugged you close to his chest, the rhythmic beat of his heart pounding against your ears. You could hear the nerves in his voice causing you to giggle against him.
“Did you really think I was going to say no?”
“I mean I have been a down right git these last few days so, can you blame me for being worried?” He pulled away to glance down at you with a funny expression. Scrunching your nose as if deep in thought, you shook your head.
“Nope.”
Skimming his thumb across your cheek again, Fred took a different approach this time. His body leaned in slowly to yours, stopping just before connecting to brush his lips against yours. The tips of your noses touched, making you laugh at the tickle. He took his time admiring every detail of your face so up close and personal. His eyes surveyed the miniscule dark spots kissing your s/c skin, the paint strokes of e/c in your eyes, the indented dimples in your cheeks and all the beautiful little details that crafted you.
Drawing in, Fred closed the inch of a gap by pressing his pursed lips against your own. Your knees gave out almost immediately at the intense passion and spark soaring through you. As if expecting you to stumble, Fred’s free arm was wrapped securely around your waist, supporting your body to a stand. Snaking your hands around his face, you mimicked his movements by enticing him in with your lips and kissing him deeply. You moved your hand down to his tie, gripping the satin material in your hand then whipped it towards yourself. Fred crashed further into your lips, a groan of pleasure emmitnating. His hand trailed from your waist to your hair, returning the action by tugging at your hair.
You gasped at the sensation, giving Fred the perfect window of opportunity to take the lead. The warmth, and wetness of his tongue slipped around your lip, then entered your mouth. You fought with him wanting to dominate the kiss but Fred was far too skilled.
His tongue danced with yours before flicking across your lips in a teasing manner. You giggled into his lips, a smile rising to Fred’s lips. Detaching himself from your embrace, Fred pulled back, then kissed your cheek. His hands found their previous position around your face. As he held your face in his hands, he leaned down to rest your foreheads against one another. Like a child whose mother just purchased him a puppy, Fred abruptly gushed,
“I can finally call you mine now, isn’t that wicked! Like… you’re my girlfriend now! Bloody hell, this is amazing. I should’ve asked you out years ago!” He chuckled giddly, squeezing your cheeks lightly in his hands. You pulled away, smacking his hands playfully.
“Tell me about it. Would’ve made this a whole lot easier.”
“Ah c’mon, love. Nothing worth it ever comes easy, right?” Fred smiled down at you, intertwining his large hand in yours. You peeked at the interlock, a grin rising to your face. Despite the annoyance of how long it took him, you couldn’t be happier now that he was truly yours. He was right, the wait was finally worth it. For once, your life was aligning with the script of a Hollywood film and it had never felt better.
Gripping Fred’s hand loving you tilted your head up at him,
“Is that your excuse for taking, what… six years?” His cheeks went red at this and he attempted to cover his face in embarrassment.
“I’m sorry, darling! Oh wait- am I allowed to call you that, or is it still reserved for Diggory?” Wiggling his eyebrows at you Fred broke into a fit of chuckles. You hit his side, causing him to step back, though the laughter roared louder. Narrowing your eyes, you feigned anger as you spun on your heel and started to walk in the opposite direction, away from Fred.
“Shut up, Freddie! You want me to break-up with you already?” Fred knew you were joking, but he was a sucker for games. It didn’t take him long to catch up to you- his long strides were no match to your average ones. Wrapping his arms around your body from the back, Fred pressed his lips to the shell of your ear, blowing a rush of air in causing you to leap in surprise. 
“Oh, stop it, love! Don’t start with that, let’s at least make it a full day before any talks of breaking up.” Fred placed a ‘boop’ to your nose, then rejoined you at your side as you walked together to the dorm room. The other students had emptied from the halls. Passing by the large clock, you realized you were minutes from curfew. Pointing at the time, you motioned over to Fred. He swiveled his head to read the clock, a wild smirk marking his face. Speeding up the pace, the two of you were jogging to the common room, neither of you wanting to end up in detention. Just as you reached the fourth floor, a silvery and translucent figure swept across the opening of the corridor. You yelp in freight at the unexpected jump scare of a Hogwarts ghost. The Bloody Baron snapped his head at you with a nasty scowl. A silver, heavy chain hung around his neck, a punishment for his crime of murder. Although ghosts of Hogwarts weren’t ghoulish or frightening, The Bloody Baron had never been your favorite. Despite deceased, the throw of his glare felt real and caused your skin to crawl in fear.
Fred interjected, greeting The Bloody Baron kindly and apologizing for your reaction. The ghosts at Hogwarts were rather sensitive to their state. Besides, he always had a softer side for the twins. The Bloody Baron and Peeves were connected in a way so the Weasley twins always got a pass.
The ghost gravitated to the side of the entrance, allowing an opening for you to pass. You thanked him, apologizing for your previous reaction as you stepped past. As you made it out of his earshot, a stream of laughter poured from Fred. Tears pricked his eyes as he chuckled endlessly. You glared at him, warning him with just one look to keep quiet. Fred threw his arm around you, pulling you into his side. He leaned down to place a lingering kiss to your lips before chuckling again,
“C’mon, darling. I’ll protect you from all the ghosts.”
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babbushka · 3 years
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How about a Memorial Day picnic or bbq with the zimmermans and possibly some public cockwarming? You’ve teased Flip until he can’t stand it and he pulls you down onto his cock under your sundress. It could even be at a cop party! Please and thank you! 💕💕
A/N: when I read this I out loud went 'oh hell yeah.' I hope that you enjoy and also possibly go 'oh hell yeah' ;)
1.7K, pure NSFW (exhibitionism, public sex, cockwarming, teasing)
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Memorial Day weekend usually saw the detective units off of work. Crime didn’t stop, but it was a tough job to try and wrangle anyone to give a shit about it during the holiday weekend, aside from the bare bones staff that got the short end of the stick.
Flip, for once in his fuckin’ life, was not hangin’ on to a short end, and found himself actually enjoying the holiday weekend at the big park that sits right at the heart of the city. He’s not alone, he’s brought you to join the CSPD narcotics unit, complete with Bridges, Harry, and the secretaries, for a B-B-Q picnic.
And you’re driving him up the fuckin’ wall.
You’re doing it on purpose too, he knows. He knows you, he’s loved you a real fuckin’ long time, he knows when you’re doing this shit on purpose. The way you wriggle your ass against his crotch at every opportunity, the way you let out these little happy sighs and laughs that sound entirely too suggestive, fuck, even the way that you eat your banana has him getting hot in his jeans.
He’s starting to reach a tipping point, so the next time that you settle yourself atop his lap from where he sits on one of the big lounge chairs you brought, he grabs a hold of your nose and shakes your face with a stern, “Knock it off.”
“Hmm, no.” You mull it over with mock-thought for a moment or two, before splitting into a beautiful grin that has Flip’s scowl deepening.
“I mean it ketsl, or else I’m going to do something drastic.” He threatens, and you know exactly what that means.
“You wouldn’t dare.” You throw a glance to the entire unit lounging just a few feet away from you, the lot of you taking up a nice sized chunk of the park. You’re all far enough away from the playgrounds that it’s just adults, which is nice, considering the beer is flowing, and Flip’s about two seconds from fucking you.
“Oh yeah?” He licks across his teeth, that countdown coming to an end, “Try me.”
Calling what you think is his bluff, you throw a secretive glance over your shoulder, and lean in, pretending to whisper something in his ear, only to suck the sensitive shell of his ear into your mouth, teasing it with your teeth and tongue. Flip’s reaction is immediate -- he’s got a hand gripping your thigh before he even knows what he’s doing.
“That’s it -- ” He starts, before he feels something slick trickling down your thigh from the safety of the skirt of your dress, and his heart begins to pound in his throat when he realizes, “Wait, are you not wearing panties?”
“Nope.” You pop your ‘P’, and that’s officially the straw that breaks Flip’s back.
“Christ you’re such a brat, you know that?” Manhandling you, he grabs your body and maneuvers you so that you’re sitting facing away from him. His legs are spread and yours are spread even wider around them, putting you on display. If anyone were to be paying attention, they’d almost almost almost get a view of your cunt -- if the breeze were any stronger, then they definitely would.
“What are you gonna do about it, detective?” You continue to tease him, even when you’re in a compromising position like this, and the name makes Flip’s dick throb.
It presses against the seam of his zipper, strains in his jeans, and he knows exactly what he’s gonna do. He cants his hips up ever so slightly, makes sure the swell of your ass rub against his jeans, makes you squirm and let little whines out of your throat. Not too loud, but loud enough that Flip can hear them.
“You feel how fuckin’ hard you make me honey-bunny? Feel how stiff you got my cock?” He murmurs against your throat, hands already twitching to undo his belt.
“If it’s gonna be hard either way, why not let it be hard inside my hot, wet, cunt?” You look at him over your shoulder, a heated gaze that has Flip’s mouth flooding with want, with desire, lust for you.
“You don’t fuckin’ mean that.” Flip gives you a chance to call it all off, to quit your teasing before it goes somewhere far more public, but you only grin.
“Try me.”
Looking around, Flip tries to figure out the logistics of it all. As much as he loves fucking you, and the idea of fucking you in public, he would rather kill a man than let them watch the beautiful faces you make -- or god fuckin’ forbid, get a glimpse of something they shouldn’t be seeing.
“We gotta wait until no one’s around.” He grunts, starting to grow desperate, looking around for the nearest bathroom facility or something, anything that he can push you up against.
“Hey Jimmy!” You do the exact opposite thing, and draw attention to yourselves instead of away, and Flip is about to panic but then you continue, “I heard Ron was sayin’ that he doesn’t believe that you can catch a frisbee as good as you say you can.”
“Bullshit, I so can! Did one of you bring one? Let’s go, two teams, right now.” Jimmy claps his hands, and the drunken detectives are too buzz-happy to deny him. “Zimmermans, you’ll be the judge?”
“We’ll judge.” Flip calls with a thumbs up, and it’s all too soon before the entire group of them is running off down the open field, someone procuring a frisbee out of a backpack somewhere. Flip immediately reaches for his belt, fumbles with the zipper, and tugs his rock-hard cock out, positioning it right at your folds, “You’re so smart, my smart girl. Fuck you’re wet it’s soakin’ into my jeans.”
“We’ll say you spilled your beer, hurry -- ” You shift yourself as discreetly as possible, until you’re sinking down down down on his cock, feeling it push through your walls, your cunt squelching and clenching around it, hot like a brand as it splits through you, making you sigh out a little too loud, “Oh my god.”
“Fuck, fuck you just -- can’t -- fucking -- move.” It’s like heaven for Flip, the grip that your pussy has on him, and he has to gulp down deep lungfuls of air to make sure he doesn’t push you onto the grass and fuck you hard rough fast like he knows you deserve.
No, this can’t be that, there’s people all around. You’ll just have to sit here, right on his cock, keep him hard and hot and wet, your cunt’s soaked, fuck, just sit there until they start to leave. You seem to have other plans, your thighs already shaking, knees pinching in together as you grind yourself down onto his lap.
“You’re so big, you know that? Who let you walk around with a cock like this? I’m so full.” Biting at your lip, Flip can from the spot where he’s resting his chin on your shoulder, that your nipples are so stiff. You must not be wearing a bra either, from the way they’re pressing, straining against the fabric of your sundress.
“Why dont you moan about it some more.” Flip casually brushes his hand against one of them, a quick motion disguised as a means to comb his fingers through his hair, and you immediately start to wriggle and move on his lap, making him tsk against the roof of his mouth, “No, no bouncing, not here. Then everyone’ll know what a slut you are.”
“But I am a slut for your cock honey.” You moan, breathy, feeling the way his cock twitches and pulses pre-come into your wanting pussy. You’re so wet that at the wrong move, his cock could slip right out, and you have a fierce urge, a desire, to keep it safe inside your cunt as long as possible.
Flip peppers kisses along your throat, shouts out a couple referee calls to the group down the field so they think he’s paying attention, before he returns his attention to you. He’s got his feet planted firmly on the ground now, and he uses that leverage to buck up against you, making you smack a hand over your mouth to prevent the yelp that he elicits from traveling too far.
“I know, beautiful girl, I know. But you gotta be good. You’re gonna sit right here all fucking afternoon.” He would be smirking up a fuckin’ storm, if he weren’t so concentrated on keepin’ himself from coming so hard in you that you both won’t be able to walk.
“Flip, Philly honey -- I -- ” Leaning back against his chest, you huff and puff and start biting at your lips, making them all swollen the same way Flip knows your clit must be, aching, desperate.
“Do you want to come?” Flip asks, a little patronizingly, teasing you to make up for all the damn teasing you put him through all morning, but you don’t even care -- he’s your husband after all. You’ll bitch at him later about it, you don’t like not getting what you want right away.
“Yeah, please, just touch me a little?” You reach for his hand, guiding it slowly, tantalizingly slowly, towards your pussy that’s waiting for him right underneath that scrap of fabric that’s barely covering you, “Just a little bit? Just let me come once and I’ll be good and I’ll stay on your cock all day, please?”
“The trouble you get me in, I swear...” Flip would chuckle, but instead all that comes out is a groan as he drops his hand finally to your clit, his calloused big fingers smearing your wetness and his pre-come around and around until your body is tensing up up up, before shuddering back against his chest, orgasm washing over you.
“Thank you.” You sigh out happily, the muscles in your cunt relaxing around his cock -- still hard and wanting -- settling against him for the long haul.
He doesn’t actually know how long he’ll make it like this, but he figures if he can last an hour, he’ll find some excuse to go plow you down by the huge shady trees or the pavilions, and really make you thankful then.
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Taggin' some Flip lovin' friends! @mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @steeevienicks @materialisthicc @hswritingrecs @miabelay11 @han68000 @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @loverofallthings @groovetoob @bxnnywriting @glassbxttless @angel-bxby3 @smallgirlbigpersonality @lovelyyy-luna @2000andwhat @raddo1975 @cornmousequeen @metsienmenninkainen @caillea @painttheskylineforme @holding-on-to-starwars @caitlin-was-here @canikeepitonplease @icarusinthesea @princessflip
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mysoftboybensolo · 3 years
Text
The Alienist and the Soprano
Chapter 13: The Holidays
A/N: This was inspired by Laszlo’s love of opera and my thought on what if he fell for an opera singer. Multi chapter. Canon divergence, there is no Mary Palmer here (I loved Mary and Laszlo, so I don’t feel like I could have her here and have him be with another woman). A mix of show and book canons. No Y/N, OC named Evelina Lind.
A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32029150
Pairing: Laszlo Kreizler x Fem OC!
Summary: The last thing Laszlo Kreizler ever expected while investigating the death of children was to fall in love, and with an opera singer no less!
Warnings: Age gap, Victorian Christmas, mentions of past abuse, but much fluff! I had done my research on what Christmas was like back then, as well as the Hanukah dates and it seems 1897 was a big year; “Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus” was published in September of 1897, electric Christmas lights were growing in popularity and the unification of the boroughs in New York was official on New Years. And there is your history lesson of the day.
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The air grew colder as Laszlo and Evelina’s relationship grew warmer. Evelina was spending more time with the team, just as Laszlo was becoming more and more acquainted with Evelina’s opera friends. Compared, they were a more rambunctious group, and she knew that Laszlo had his limits, but admired him for trying so hard. Maria often helped Laszlo along when Evelina was not by his side and he felt immensely grateful to her for guiding him through the corral. At first, her opera friends hadn’t been sure of Laszlo, unsure of this man who makes a living in psychoanalyzing people, who didn’t seem to fit in anywhere, but they always caught the spark of joy in his eyes when Evelina came beside him, the way he tried so hard for her. Even if he couldn’t keep up with them, they still saw the utter devotion between the pair and that was enough for them to approve the relationship.
It was a time for the singers to rest themselves for The Nutcracker to be performed, and a real treat for them all. It had done so well last Christmas that the opera house had decided to do it again, and who knows, perhaps it will become a Christmas tradition.
As November closed in, Evelina had been helping Sara scout out locations for her new agency, hoping that she’ll find it before the weather turned too cold to be out scouting. As they looked around a space, Evelina asked Sara a few questions. “What will you require of your workers to do?”
“Just as any other detective agency will have, secretaries, detectives. Roosevelt has agreed to let the officers help us whenever we need it, which must mean he bears no ill will towards my leaving. Hmm, no, too small. I need at least four rooms; this will not do.” They stepped out into the cool air, leaving them both to shiver. “Winter certainly is coming, there is no doubt.”
“Yes, that shall mean Christmas!” Evelina replied excitedly. “It’s my favorite time of year. Everything looks so magical with the snow and the good cheer, and of course the music.”
“Well, then you might convince Laszlo to have a party this year. He doesn’t celebrate it, at least, from what I have known of him. I wonder if it comes from an unhappy memory,” Sara mused.
“Then I shall make it my duty to give him a Christmas full of happiness. The opera will be performing The Nutcracker, perhaps I will invite him to a performance then have a party. It’ll only be a small affair, you, John, and the Isaacson Brothers.”
Sara looked at her strangely then asked, “You are aware that they are Jewish, don’t you?”
“I am more than aware, in fact, I know that it starts on the nineteenth of December and ends on the twenty-seventh. And it doesn’t have to necessarily be a Christmas party, but a holiday party. A celebration of simply being together and friends. Surely, Laszlo couldn’t object to that.”
Wrapping her arm around Evelina’s, Sara couldn’t help but to smile. “Not when you put it that way, he wouldn’t.”
Laszlo visited just shortly after the ladies returned home, feeling too frozen to go any further. “And how has the property hunting been going for you?”
Sara groaned, “Don’t mention it. It feels as if I am never going to find the perfect place. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am going to get myself a good stiff drink,” she huffed as she went off to the kitchen, leaving Evelina and Laszlo alone in the den.”
Now was the perfect time for her to ask the question. “Laszlo, Christmas is coming soon, and I was wondering what it is that you do for the holidays?”
“Well, Christmas Eve, I spend it with the children who are left behind at the institute, watch them open their gifts in the morning then return home for a quiet day in.”
“Oh, Laszlo,” she said, “I love that you take care of your children, but what about yourself? Doesn’t it get to be a bit lonely?”
He pursed his lips in thought then said, “Well, yes, I suppose, but it was better than what I used to have when I was younger. Those were the better days. We hosted a fine Christmas party, my father was at his best and my mother wore her finest, and the house looked like a picture book. But” he said, with matter-of-fact tone, “When the party was over, it wasn’t so picturesque.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” she softly affirmed.
“No, I want to, and we promised, no secrets.” It was true, after the absolute confusion that came from not sharing their feelings and the disaster that followed, they had agreed that nothing would be held back. “Santa was not something told in my household, but rather the fear of God. He’d make me read the bible which involved the birth of Christ, but any little flaw, hesitation or stutter and he’d beat me while calling me a blasphemer for ruining the scripture.”
She wanted to ask how that was better than the usual days, but she wasn’t sure if she was ready for that. “My mum died just a week before Christmas, and to celebrate it without her was awful. Winston was not manageable during those times,” she paused after the mention of her brother, and Laszlo saw a flash of pain in her eyes. “When he was locked up, that first Christmas, my father broke down, he felt he had broken his promise to my mother in keeping the family together. Even though I told him that he was not to blame for Winston’s actions, every year after, I could see the echo of pain in his eyes. This will be my first Christmas without any of them.”
Laszlo lifted his hand, unsure if he ought to reach out and comfort her, and knowing that she’d not only appreciate it, but that he’d have to get used being open with another, he placed a hand on top of hers, which rested on her lap. It was the right move to do, as it had made her smile and lean in to rest her head against his shoulder. Laszlo felt a small surge of pride in himself, he was doing better in showing intimacy and he liked it.
Having a party to plan helped to fill Evelina’s free time from the opera, but most importantly, it allowed her the chance to make a surprise for Laszlo. Thanks to her covert cleverness, she found out which children will be spending Christmas at the institute and with the permission of the staff, she managed to pull them together to work on a surprise for him. They nearly got caught once, Laszlo came back from a meeting a bit sooner than Evelina expected, but she managed to play it off well, saying that she had been bored and wanted to play the piano for the children.
Stevie proved to be rather helpful in preparing Christmas at Laszlo’s home and was more than happy to be commissioned by Evelina to help with the planning. He scoured out the best decorations and the best tree to have standing in Laszlo’s den, and when he was finished with it, even he could admit he did a rather fine job. There was one thing that Laszlo had a hand in the decorations, and it was the purchase of these new electric string lights, meant to replace candles, and it was a smart choice, and in Evelina’s words, magical. As Stevie was busy with the decorations, Evelina was off to work with the invites and the Isaacson Brothers were surprised to say the least but were still very pleased to be invited to such a party, knowing how much it meant to her. Sara had been the first unofficial guest invited and John most certainly was not one to pass up a party.
Christmas Eve arrived and Evelina dressed herself in her green and red velvet walking gown, truly getting into the spirit and went to the institute to see Laszlo. Many of the parents came to take their children home for the holidays and as much as it was a wonderful sight to see parents not forsake their little ones, it was doubly heartbreaking to see those few whose parents never came. It was Laszlo and Evelina’s special mission to make sure that they still received the experience that they would have had if they were home, even carrying on the duty of decorating the tree and great hall for the children to enjoy. Most of the staff could go home to spend it with their family, but there were a few who did not have a family of their own who stayed and happily joined in the festivities with the children.
Daylight had gone when was a surprise waiting at the front door, and who would have guessed that Santa would come and see the children of the Kreizler Institute? Watching John all dressed up as Santa was a delight, especially when the younger children climbed on his lap and gave “Santa” a hug and wished him a Merry Christmas. It didn’t take much convincing, for John thought it a wonderful idea and he could not say no to Evelina’s sweet intentions, even if it made him look a bit silly. Sara was the unofficial Mrs. Claus, dressed in her lovely green evening gown and many of the children loved going up to her and asking questions of the North Pole, truly convinced that she was indeed the wife of Santa. She watched John take in the children’s excitement with great stride and enjoyment and thought it the finest thing she had ever seen, and her heart swelled at the thought of him doing this for the children.
When John and Sara left, it was time to show off Evelina’s surprise. Gathering the children up, she sat at the piano and began to play. Laszlo watched with wonder and love as Evelina led the children in a most heavenly rendition of Ding Dong Merrily On High, the children looked so happy to be a part of something. He wasn’t even bothered by the religious overtones of the song; he just enjoyed the sweet voices that sang in perfect harmony and was touched to see that his love put so much effort into surprising him.
Soon, it got to be bedtime and the children were escorted back their rooms, eagerly awaiting Santa’s arrival and the staff to their rooms. Usually, Laszlo was the only one to take up the duty of stuffing the stockings and providing the children with gift, making sure each one got an equal amount from Santa. Evelina stayed with him and happily helped to stuff the stockings, despite her own sleepiness. It was an endearing sight, the pair of them on the floor, helping to stuff stockings and wrap presents.
“How long have you done this?”
“Ever since the institute was opened. It was quite sad to see those children left behind to have nothing, so I made sure to carry on the tradition of Santa. You may think that I do not agree with the idea of telling fantastical stories to children, but I think it is important in the development of a child. It stimulates their creativity as well as teaches them lessons.”
Evelina smiled and started with, “Don’t laugh, but I still believe in Santa. Oh, I don’t mean that there is an actual person who goes about in a flying sleigh and gives presents to all children around the world, but the idea of him. Do you remember back in September there was that article answering a little girl’s question of if there was a Santa? That article was a wonderful summation of how I feel about Santa. How there is someone who can be full of good cheer and selflessness and the possibility that we could be just like him. Like this, right now. The fact that you go out of your way to make sure these children have a merry Christmas, to never make them feel left out, it is very Kris Kringle of you. And I am sure you’d look dashing in red.” His deep blush only proved her right.
It was nearing midnight when they had finished and left the institute and despite the chill, they walked through the snowy streets, enjoying the calm and winter beauty. “I am sorry if this wasn’t what you had imagined you’d spend your Christmas Eve.”
“Indeed, it was far better than I could hope. To help give children a good time, to create magic and now walking home with you, it is wonderful.” The church bells tolled, and they stopped to listen to the lovely knells as it chimed Christmas day. “Merry Christmas, my darling.”
Laszlo smiled, knowing that she gave him at last an endearment. “Frohe Weihnachten, meine liebe.”
Laszlo came to pick up Evelina early on Christmas day so she could be at the institute before the children woke and watch with Laszlo as they opened their gifts from Santa as well as from Laszlo himself. She loved the glimmer in his eyes when looking at the children enjoying themselves, forgetting their woes and problems, glad to see that they would have a normal childhood that he never had. Once he was sure that the children were taken care of, the pair went off to enjoy Christmas themselves. It had been purely coincidental, but Laszlo wore his dashing green vest and tie while Evelina wore her lovely red satin dress, looking as if they had coordinated with the holiday and each other, anyone who didn’t know them would have been certain they were husband and wife.
The party was beginning at noon, giving time to everyone that was coming to enjoy their morning and get ready to spend it together. Sara had been the first to arrive, no surprise, the Isaacson Brothers came, Marcus brought along his dear Esther and her daughter, and then John. Laszlo had almost thought that all the guest had arrived, when Stevie entered and said, “We’ve got two more guests!”
Laszlo looked perplexed, for who else could come, and Evelina watched in amusement as his mouth fell agape as Cyrus walked in with his niece, Joanna, looking rather fine in their Sunday best. Laszlo jumped up from his seat and went to his old employee and friend. “Cyrus! How are you? I didn’t know you were coming.”
“No, but Miss Lind did. Stevie brought Miss Lind to my work and she had personally invited me to the party, as well as Joanna. It was wonderful of her to come to me personally.”
Evelina stood and warmly greeted Cyrus and Joanna. “I am so glad you came. Laszlo told me so much of you and I just had to properly get to know his dear friend.”
“And I am honored to know the woman who could convince him to throw such a party,” Cyrus laughed heartily.
Evelina had been a wonderful hostess, making sure everyone had been attended to, even making sure Stevie felt welcomed in the celebrations and had helped Lucius feel a bit more at ease with the help of Joanna, of which the pair seemed quite intrigued by each other. Laszlo watched in wonder of how she could manage to move around with grace, kindness and energy when he still had difficulty to be as open to those of whom he feels are his friends. He admired her and was honored to be the man of whom she loved above others.
The afternoon was spent playing games, Blind Man’s Bluff, Yes and No, and Charades. Laszlo had sat out of Blind Man’s Bluff, but allowed himself to be dragged into Charades and Yes and No. He was afraid of appearing to look ridiculous, but Evelina argued that everyone was doing the same, so they all looked the same amount of ridiculousness. The luncheon was informal, people made their own plates and sat around Laszlo’s den, like they all were old friends, and it was a kind of homey feeling that Laszlo had never felt before, it was warm, safe, good.
It would not be a good party without a mistletoe, at least according to John, who hung it over his friend’s head and teased that someone ought to kiss him or else he will. Evelina more than happily rose to the challenge, making it the second kiss that the pair had shared. She challenged John to hang it over his head and get a kiss, or else he’ll have to kiss the lizard at the institute, and just as she hoped, Sara decided to help him out by placing a chaste kiss to his cheek, but he turned on accident and the pair had kissed on the lips. The blush on their faces told so much and Evelina buried her face in Laszlo’s chest to try and stop her smile from being noticed, but she spotted something beyond him. Moving towards it, she couldn’t help but to admire the beautiful piano. Laszlo came up beside her and said, “You may play on it whenever you wish. It’ll be nice to see that old thing getting some use. I haven’t played in so long.”
“You played?” She had never known that Laszlo used to play, at least before the incident.
“Yes. I was quite good.”
“Better than good,” Sara interjected, coming in the conversation, hoping to escape her situation. “His name was in all the papers; he could have been a great pianist.”
“Why don’t we do gifts?” Evelina suggested, hoping to prevent Laszlo from falling into his darker thoughts, and she excitedly handed out her gifts. They weren’t expensive gifts, but they were heartfelt and personal to each, and that meant more than anything in the world, even Stevie, who hadn’t expected to get a gift and didn’t usually like to be sentimental, but even he couldn’t refuse the copy of An Anarchic Adventure by Jules Verne, his favorite author. Laszlo had received a copy of The Psychology of Emotions by Théodule-Armand Ribot, of whom Laszlo had been fascinated with.
Laszlo made himself go last, giving everyone incredible gifts; Stevie getting his very first shaving kit as he was now a young man, Esther and her daughter fine new dresses, to name a few, and lastly went to Evelina, giving her a box. When she opened it, it was a beautiful toiletry box, made of a dark wood and lined with pink velvet. Opening one of the drawers, she noticed two large and full bottles of her perfume, ‘Fantasia de Fleurs’. “Oh, Laszlo! This is too much! And on top of that, two bottles of my perfume?”
“It is not too much,” he countered, “And besides, it is for selfish reasons too, for I love your scent, perhaps a bit too much,” he admits with a blush across his cheeks. “No one else should buy this for you but myself.”
It was true; when she did first receive this, it was meant to be a bribe gift from one of the patrons at the opera, but she loved the scent too much to toss it away. To have Laszlo buy it for her not only was sweet, but intimate, and she liked that he felt way, wanting no other to buy her perfumes. Sara had been the one to inform which perfume it was and told Laszlo that she had mentioned about getting a box of her own, and he made sure to get the finest box with the two largest bottles so she wouldn’t have to.
The Isaacson Brothers had left with their guests and just before everyone was to go off on their own, Evelina made sure to have a few carols played and sung. John and Sara had quite nice voices which blended very well together, Cyrus deep and warm, and Joanna and Stevie wholeheartedly sang. Laszlo’s voice was not deep or powerful, but it was soft and comforting, and it sounded wonderful to hear him sing Silent Night in German, a request that Evelina had asked, and he did only for her. When he sang, all stopped and listened, and all Laszlo could see or know was Evelina, playing the piano, with a grace and power that reminded him of his youth. Instead of painful memories, it made him smile and happy.
Cyrus and his niece left to have dinner with their family, John to his grandmother’s, leaving Sara and Stevie to join Evelina and Laszlo to the opera for The Nutcracker. This had been Stevie’s first time to the opera and the wonder in his eyes was so enduring and how he watched as the story enfolded before his eyes. In the dark of the auditorium, Evelina had reached her hand over to Laszlo’s, and held it. He looked over at her and wordlessly, he thanked her for a wonderful Christmas.
The good cheer from Christmas continued to carry on for the next few days as New Year’s was approaching and for good reason. The New York government had made the decision to unite the five boroughs of the city to create what would be nicknamed “Greater New York” and it was a wonderful reason to celebrate.
It was a momentous occasion, one that Evelina wished to see and thanks to Laszlo’s influence, they managed to watch it all happen close by and safe away from the mad crowd and the pouring rain. As the New Year rang, everyone watched in wonder as fireworks blasted in the sky, cannons fired, steamboats blowing their horns and brass bands played their hearts out, for when the new year rang, the new flag had unfurled over city proclaiming it’s celebration, the birth of the City of New York.
“Oh, darling,” Evelina gasped, “Just think, we are lucky to have seen this happen. To see a city come together as one, it’s beautiful!”
Laszlo wrapped his arms around Evelina’s waist and placed his head in the crook of her neck as they watched the city celebrate outside, “1898 shall be a happy year. I am sure of it.” She turned her head and shared their third kiss but first kiss of their new year and turned back to watch the merriment.
It then struck him right then and there, something that he thought would never be possible, something he’d never have, and yet it was here in his arms, and he would not let it go so easily. Now, it was just the matter of asking the question.
Tagging: @monsieurbruhl​ @cazzyimagines​, @scuttle-buttle​, @violetmuses​ @flutterskies​ @sokoviandelights​ @rumblelibrary​ @fictionlandslanddreams​ @somethingthatsaysbubbles​ @alindeluce​  and @barnesxnobles
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moon-light-jukebox · 4 years
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I wish you would write a fic where Spencer comes out to the reader (his gf) as bi and she also comes out as bi!! from a very bi anon :)
Summary: Spencer Reid has fallen in love with Reader…but he needs to tell her something about himself that he’s never told anyone before.
Word Count: 1.1k
Pairing: Spencer Reid / Female Reader
Genre: Pure Fluff
A/n: Thank you for this cute request, my bisexual anon. As a very bisexual writer, I was only too happy to write this little fic out. I hope you like it!
-- Nervous --
For as long as I can remember, I’ve always had the habit of getting nervous at the strangest of times.
I was never nervous when I was on a case with my team, I was never nervous before I had to take any sort of test when I was younger, and I was never really very nervous to speak in front of large crowds.
I shouldn’t be nervous now; it didn’t make any logical sense. I had been with y/n for several months now…103 days, to be precise. She hadn’t said it yet…but I felt like she loved me. I hadn’t said it to her either, another thing I was way too nervous about.
Before I had officially met y/n, I had already noticed her. She seemed to radiate this energy that had captivated me from the very first moment. She was a magical creature that shouldn’t exist in my world, but I was so very glad she did.
I was terrified to ask her out that very first time. I stumbled over my words and rambled on endlessly about topics that were not even related to the Edgar Allan Poe theater production I was trying to invite her to. She’d just smiled the entire time, color flushing brightly in her cheeks.
“I’d love to go with you, Spencer. If you’re asking…” she had said, twisting her fingers while she spoke. It was odd to me that such a beautiful woman would even want to spend time with me. While y/n was beautiful, my favorite thing about her was how unfailingly kind she was. She always spoke to everyone she came in contact with, and she really listened to them when they talked. She had this way of making people feel special without even trying.
Because I knew her to be such a kind and gentle person, I knew she would be understanding of the secret I had to tell her. It’s just that I had never told anyone before. Not even Maeve in our letters. It was a part of myself I had always kept so private…I wasn’t ashamed, really. I was just…nervous.
“What’s wrong, Spence?” y/n asked, pulling me from my thoughts.
I cleared my throat. “Oh, um, nothing. I was just thinking.”
The smile she directed at me warmed me like the sun. “You’re always thinking, Dr. Reid. But you looked like you were thinking mighty hard just then.”
On this rare evening I had off, I had invited y/n over to my house for dinner. We ordered takeout and were watching Halloween movies, even though my favorite holiday was months away.
My girl always said, “Halloween is a state of mind, Spence.”
I shifted in my seat, my hands fisting against my thighs. “Okay,” I muttered. “I have something I wanted to talk to you about.”
She was sitting on the couch beside me, but she turned her body to face me, bringing her legs up to crisscross in front of her. Her face was so open…her face was everything I ever wanted. “What’s up, bug?”
I worried my bottom lip between my teeth. “Well…we’ve been together for…”
“103 days,” she supplied.
“I love you.”
She blinked her gorgeous eyes at me, slightly bewildered, but a smile was spreading over her face. “What?”
“I love you. That wasn’t what I had to talk to you about,” I rambled out. “But you know the exact number of days and you make me so happy. Happier than anything else. I could write a book about how you light up my entire world and still never come close to how I feel about you.”
“Spence,” her voice was soft when she reached out to grasp both of my hands. “I love you too. So much. You’re…you’re everything, Spencer Reid.”
I wanted to kiss her then, more than I had ever wanted anything in the entire world. “I…I want to tell you something else. Something I’ve never told anyone. But…you mean-you mean so much to me. I don’t want to have any sort of secret with you.”
Her curious expression made sense. I had already told her about my past relationships, my family, and my problem with dilaudid. “I don’t want to have any secrets from you either, Spence.” She gave my hands a squeeze. “If it helps, there’s an 87% chance I’ll still love you no matter what you tell me.”
A laugh bubbled out of my throat. “87%? Where did you get that number?”
She scowled at me. “Out with it!”
I swallowed thickly. “Well…I love you. And you’re the only person I want to be with. But…I’m not…in the past…” I looked at her face, scanning every inch of it for any sort of micro expression that could give away how she was feeling. “I’ve…I’ve dated men in the past.” I let out a deep breath. “I’m attracted…to men. And women.”
Her brows creased in confusion. “This is what you were afraid to tell me?”
I nodded, my head dropping slightly.
“Spencer,” she said quietly, her hands releasing mine only to come up to cup my jaw. Her thumb caressed my cheek. “I’m so happy you felt comfortable enough to tell me. Especially if I’m the first person you’ve ever come out to.”
“You don’t care?”
“Well, of course I care, Spence. But I care about it because I care about you. It’s a part of your identity. Everything about you matters to me.”
My heart swelled inside of my chest. “I care about you too. And I…I don’t know what to say.” I huffed out a soft laugh. I had been so worried about this moment that I never really planned for what came after.
“Listen, Spencer,” she whispered, pulling my attention back to her. “I…well, I feel bad about this now. I don’t…my sexual identity is a huge part of who I am; but I never really come out anymore. I don’t believe that sexuality has to have labels, but I identify as bisexual. I’ve had relationships with both men and women.” She bit her lip, her hands dropping from my face. “I don’t know why I didn’t tell you…but-“
I reached for her before I even realized what I was doing. My hands found her soft face right before my mouth sealed against hers. She was sweetness, kindness, and so much better than I felt like I deserved. “I love you,” I murmured against her lips before pulling away. “I’ve never…thought about a label for my sexuality. But…I think I’m bisexual too.”
Y/n’s smile was so soft, so tender. She reached out and tapped her finger against the tip of my nose. “Then we can just be two bisexual people who are madly in love with each other. Does that sound good to you, Dr. Reid?”
Just like everything about her, that idea was perfect to me too.
386 notes · View notes
unwishablestars · 3 years
Text
amongst the waiting stars
Pairing: Levi Ackerman x f!reader
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 3.8k
Tags: Mutual Pining, SFW, Drunk Confessions, i tried my best
TWs: Mentions of alcohol intake
Summary: When Levi’s visits get more and more frequent how long until he’d have to admit he didn’t come for the coffee
A/N: this is the first fic I actually finished/properly wrote and I actually dont hate it, hopefully y’all don’t too :)
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Wiping off the spilled coffee, restocking the pastries and cakes, it was a calm day for you and your co-workers. You felt a cool autumn breeze enter the room as you hear the door open and were greeted with a rather short man with a bored expression.
"Hello! Welcome to xxx, how may I help you?"
Greeting back with a simple hello, he proceeds to scan the pastries inside the case before he walks up to the counter to order tea and brownies.
With that slight intimidating atmosphere you found around him you didn't expect him to have such a sweet and simple order, emphasis on sweet, he didn't seem the type to order something as sweet as a brownie. Though, that being said, he did order a tea that was rather bitter.
"Can I have your name?" Holding the cup with a pen in hand.
"Levi"
"Alright thank you, Levi. Would you like your brownie reheated?" Asking with a soft and friendly smile "Yes, please."
After asking him to sit down you start to prepare his tea and brownie, approaching him with a black tray in your hand and his food on top of it.
"Please enjoy, Levi!" Setting the tray down and flashing him a little smile before leaving him be.
And that was it, you thought this was as close as you strangers could get.
--------------------
A week to 4 days to 3, he started coming by regularly. Nothing special really, he wasn't the only regular, but you sure as hell didn't expect to be able to talk to him as if you've been friends for ages.
You've memorized the way he likes his tea, you know he has a sweet tooth that he wouldn't admit he has and you know that type of coffee he likes when he needs to get through a lecture.
Every 3 days became 2 then daily, he was back again. You didn't know why but it seemed to excite you to see a familiar face, his familiar face, what didn't make sense was why him? Why was he so special?
Was it the way he openly admired your focused and quick work attitude, the way he would pleasantly chat to you about his life outside this café or those sweet little banters you two have when he enters and leaves the store.
For a man that didn't smile much, he sure was a treasure to have around.
Often enough for you to notice though, he always seemed to sit alone. Asking about it, he's never really responded with anything other than a:
"I'm waiting for someone."
You've never seen this someone. A friend perhaps? A date? Whoever it may be, they seem pretty rude to never show up even once.
Leaning on your arms over the counter to ask him "Waiting again?" Levi started sitting closer and closer to the counter just to make your conversations easier.
A slight pause was present before his answer "Yeah." "Is it the same someone as last time?" Thinking for a moment, "No, it's a different friend."
"Not that is any of my business, but it seems pretty rude for your friends to just never show up like this. You could wait for an hour or so and still not be pissed, gotta say that's pretty admirable."
"It's not a big deal. I mean, I'm stuck here waiting with you aren't I? It's not so bad."
He's right, I guess it wouldn't be so bad if you waited with him too.
"How smooth, Prince Charming." Despite your snarky remark you can't deny, it was nice hear that you made his wait bearable for him.
To the untrained eye, someone could see him as a stoic and quiet man, maybe even intimidating. But with trust and patience, he was sweet and compassionate, it could make your heart melt.
Taking as sip from his tea, presumably ignoring your little banter, you could've sworn you saw the softest smile accompanied with a little blush.
I wouldn't mind waiting with you.
--------------------
Nearing the end of the year, a cool breeze can now be present everywhere. Malls, stores and homes turning on their heaters to help with the growing cold.
Leaving his building wearing a stylish grey coat, already on his way to his personal sanctuary, his thoughts were interrupted with a loud and high:
"LEEEEVIIII"
Turning around he was met with a very much energetic Hange Zoe, stopping in his tracks to see what they have to say. "On your way already? Excited to see your sweetheart?" They said, smirking with a deeper intent than to tease.
Levi's friends were more attentive than he had thought, it didn't take a while for them to realize that he'd been leaving the campus in a slight rush. It also didn't take them long to start guessing what else he could possibly have better to do other than sit in the library or go home immediately.
"She's not my sweetheart." He absolutely wishes though, liar. With Hange and his friends bombarding him with questions like "What's she like?" "Is she pretty?" "Are you going to make the 1st move?" It left butterflies in his stomach. The thought of a confession made his stomach twirl, even if it didn't show on his face.
He often thinks about when that perfect opportunity would arise or even if something like that exists, he'd love to win your heart over and have you in his arms. The thought of you spending your days together, official, made his heart swell, yours too. But how could he possibly ask you out? Who the hell was he to you?
"Right, of course she's not.." Hange responding quickly, stretching out the 'right' to emphasis her suspicion. "Then in that case, you should invite your 'friend' to our little gathering before we leave!" They said with a smug yet genuinely joyful expression on their face, nudging his arm to the suggestion.
"Why would I want to do that?" Levi said plainly. His friends had decided to eat out and drink together at a spot not too far from the campus.
This way they could somewhat spend their holidays together before they actually have to leave for the holidays to see their families. Including Levi, who had planned to spend it with his mother (and uncle).
"Aww c'mon, don't be like that! One of you have got to make a move sooner or later. Plus, wouldn't it be sweet for her to know that you'd been thinking about her?" They argue, thinking about it, he decides to comply.
Already walking off "Fine. Just don't follow me." "Aw but I wanna see her!" "Too bad." They follow him anyway "I'll just wait outside then! Then I'll leave once I know you've asked her!"
Clicking his tongue in agreement, they both head their way to the little café he was ever so familiar with.
-------------------
It was a busier day than usual. Though, it's to be expected due to the cold weather. It just makes people want to sit down and drink their coffee or hot cocoa, warming up their systems.
As you give the last customer in line their coffee, you hear the door open. Looking up to welcome them in, seeing who it was, a brighter smile was presented, almost as if it was an instinct.
Walking up to the counter Levi was understandably nervous, he even considered bailing on the idea now that he's here. But seeing your bright excited smile as he entered the door kept him in motion.
"Levi! Having a nice evening?" A tug at the corner of his lips made your heart pound, "Yeah." Cutting his answer short, his mind too busy to think on how he should pop the question.
"What is today?" "My usual coffee, take out, please." Nodding and grabbing a cup, you start making his usual. Looking back at Hange, they gesture him to stop stalling. You catch him looking out the door to see a tall individual with glasses.
"Is that the friend you've been waiting for all these days?" Your smile lightly calming down "O-oh no.. they're actually.." stopping himself in his tracks, air getting caught in his throat.
"I actually wanted to ask you something." "Oh? What is it?" Your attention shifting to him. "My friend.. And I wanted to ask you- if you'd like to join us for a gathering we're having. W-we'll be eating out together before we leave for the holidays." Not knowing where his eyes should look, he didn't look up until he finished his question.
Seeing your face, visibly shocked but not displeased, a bit flushed. Your eyes soften at that thought, he wanted you to come with? To spend time with you? You couldn't hold back your soft and sweet smile at his offer, what would be the point? Hiding your joy would be pointless.
Taking a look at your face, your initial reaction to the soft look you gave him. He was growing confident, maybe this wouldn't end up blowing up in his face and ruining his relationship with you.
Until your facial expression showed a bit of annoyance, a customer had fallen in line behind Levi with her kid. While the kid seemed rather patient, taking a look at the cakes in the display the mother look impatient and annoyed. "Uh- I'm sorry, Levi. Could you stand over there for a moment" gesturing to the end of the counter "I'll get your coffee ready in a minute."
With that, worry immediately washed over him. Did he say something wrong? Was he too straightforward? Did he mess up? He does as you ask and step aside, too occupied with his thoughts to realize that small flash of annoyance was in no way meant for him.
After dealing with the lady and her daughter, you walk over to Levi, his freshly made cup of coffee. "Sorry about that.. here, your coffee." Seeing his worried expression you give him a reassuring smile, your hand lingering on his as you hand him his coffee.
"Thank you so much for the invitation, Levi. That's very sweet of you." Your face showed a light flush. "It's a really busy day so- don't throw away the cardboard cup sleeve, I don't want to stop this here.." still a small bit stuck in his thoughts, he replies, "A-alright.. Thanks." Giving him another reassuring smile he heads his way to the door meeting up with the friend still outside.
"Looked like it went well!" Hange said joyfully as Levi left the café. "I don't know.. maybe it wasn't the best day to ask her, she seemed occupied." He doubtfully thought, "Huh? She seemed pleased! What are you talking about? Plus, she wrote something on your cup didn't she?" They noted in a curious tone, pointing at his cup.
Catching his attention, he takes a look at his cup and they were right, there was something written on the cup sleeve:
"I'd love to ♡ text me the details!"
was written in black marker followed by your number.
A visible yet faint blush was spread across Levi's face. He hadn't mess up, you don't hate him, you wanted to spend time with him. "Aha! See! Isn't this great?" Hange said enthusiastically, interrupting Levi's train of thought.
"..Yeah"
I'd love to♡
Yeah, this is great.
--------------------
Standing outside by the entrance of your building you stood there waiting for Levi. Having talked about it beforehand you both had decided he would just pick you up and walk with you to a small KBBQ place, just a few minutes away from the campus.
Levi wasn't the biggest fan of smelling smoke as he ate but compared to the rest of the 'cook-it-yourself' places around, this place had better ventilation, a cleaner surrounding and a decent price.
[6:03pm] Levi: Just stay by the entrance inside your building. I'm almost there.
Y/n: Alright! :)
[6:04pm] Levi: Be safe.
He's so sweet.
The weather was nice this evening. It was calm, and the wind wasn't unbearably cold, it was nice. Seeing a familiar figure across the street turning the corner, you face showed excitement as Levi lightly waved seeing you by the door.
Exiting your building you meet with Levi outside the doors, greeting him with a smile "Lead the way!" softly smiling back at you he starts to walk, making sure you're close to him. "It's not far, stay close.. okay?"
Matching his pace to stay close to him, you walk together in tranquility, engaging in peaceful conversations, asking about how they'll spend their break. It all felt natural, makes you wish that KBBQ place wasn't just 20 minutes away.
--------------------
Nearing the restaurant you see the silhouette of a tall, blonde man standing by the entrance. As both of you walk up to him, he greets you with a friendly smile and wave.
"Hello, you must be Y/n, right? I'm Erwin, It's nice to finally meet you." He greets to which to you reply "It's nice to meet you too!" he must be one of Levi's friends who would join us- stopping your thoughts you think back to what he said:
"..nice to finally meet you."
Finally? Has Levi been talking about you? You felt a light blush at the thought, thinking about me?  It was nice to think that he'd be thinking about you, after all, you'd been thinking of him too.
"Follow me, we already have a table." Walking inside gesturing for both of you to join, Erwin leads you to a reserved table. Seated at the table were 4 people, one of which you've seen outside the café, the day Levi invited you to eat out with his friends.
As you approach the table you were quickly greeted with hello's and nice to meet you's. Sitting down next to next to the familiar face, they introduced themselves.
"It's nice to see you again! I'm Hange!" "Oh yeah, you were standing outside the café that day, why didn't you come in?" you asked out of curiosity, "Oh I promised Levi I'd wait for him outside while he asked you out!" They gladly explained, lowering their volume to just about a whisper to continue "Y'know.. I was the one who suggested to invite you, Levi can be quite a shy one." They smirked which followed a chuckle.
Looking over at Levi to see some sort of confirmation. All you saw cute pink blush that ran across his face, him looking forward to either avoid eye contact or pretend like he didn't hear, either way, it was adorable.
"Anyway, it's nice to meet you! I'm Nanaba, this is Miche and that's Moblit." Nanaba had introduced going down the line.
"It's nice to meet you all." you simply said, "though.. I can't help but notice, it doesn't seem like you guys extended the invitation to anyone else. Why extend it to me?" as much as you enjoyed sitting here with Levi and his friends you couldn't help but wonder why, couldn't help but want to know it straight, said to your face.
"Because we want to get to know you." Levi admittedly explains, though he feels he wants to get to know you more than anyone else here. His friends nodding in agreement, some smirking at both yours and Levi's oblivious interactions.
Clinking your glasses filled with alcohol the night went on filled with laughter and nonsense. You kept your alcohol intake low knowing you'd obviously still need to go home and you'd rather go home walking than slumping on some poor person's shoulder.
As minutes to hours pass by, sharing stories that brought out laughter which rang around the room. Soon enough it was nearing midnight and some of you were a bit tipsy, some more than others, though you kept yourself your little promise of not going home a blackout drunk.
You weren't drunk but you were tipsy enough to be not be embarrassed if you were to spill some truth about your feelings. After the bill was paid, stuff gathered, and as they walk their way to the door Hange proposes an idea to Levi.
"Y'knowww.. Y/n would really appreciate it if you walked her home.. can't let anything happen to her ya'know.." Clicking his tongue at the smell of alcohol in their breath "What? Did you think I was just gonna let her walk home alone? It's almost 11."
Miche budges in abruptly "Is that why you barely drank?" clearly to tease the man. Overhearing the conversation without really thinking you cling onto his arm "I'm not that tipsy.. but I'd love the company.." a light pink was present across your cheeks, you couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or the blatant confession.
"Even if you were completely sober, I'd still walk you home." He'd love to.
--------------------
There were lots of stars out, nice view. The cool breeze, the bright moon, it was all so beautiful. "When are you gonna leave..?" Catching his attention, "Hm?" "to visit your mom?" you weren't exactly sure why you wanted to know, he did say he was coming back, maybe you just didn't want the night to end yet.
"Tomorrow. I'll be leaving in the morning, why?" he asked back, "Nothing.. just curious." Looking up you see the moon in that navy blue sky, it gave you an idea. Walking into your building you were still gripping his arm, not as tight as when you were out on the street but you didn't exactly plan on letting go just yet.
"Do you mind staying for a bit?" Embarrassed to ask but you did anyway. Taken aback "What? Why? Are you not feeling well?" he asks with a flustered and concerned tone. "No it's not.. you don't have to- I just.." you could feel the alcohol help you speak the truth "..wanna spend more time with you."
It felt like his brain stopped for a moment, did she just..?, but in reality it was racing with thoughts to the point where he didn't even notice. Scared of his silence you ditch the idea just as quick as you proposed it, practically interrupting yourself. "Sorry- sorry, I didn't mean to be- I didn't mean it like that-" apologies and explanations start to leave your mouth all at the same time.
"No, it's alright. I-I know what you meant.. I don't mind." holding back his stutters fairly well the blush spreading towards his ears were as evident as ever. "What? Really?" thank god he didn't take it the wrong way, "Tch," avoiding eye contact and walking toward the elevators "you want my company or not?" "Very much.."
On your way up to your room there was a sense of familiarity and comfort, even though the signs of success were there, you weren't exactly sure what you were so nervous about. Maybe you were sobering up quicker than you thought, it's not all bad though.. You didn't exactly want him to just deal with you drunk, you didn't want him to see you that way.
--------------------
Taking out your keys, opening the door and letting both of you in, you turn on the light and offer him a drink as you open your fridge "Sit down, do you want anything to drink?" "How the hell would I know what's in your fridge?" He says dryly
"Heh- that's fair, hot cocoa then?" Giving a simple nod at your offer you take out two mugs and start to warm up some milk. "Sorry it's just hot cocoa mix and milk." You apologize for no apparent reason other than to avoid the awkward silence.
"That's fine, how do you think I make my hot cocoa?" he asks sarcastically, "with fresh cocoa beans fresh from the tree" you retort jokingly, laughing a little. Surprisingly, he giggles along, making your heart flutter.
Looking at the clock as you pour the milk into the powder, 11:27pm, you interrupt the silence once again with an apology "Sorry.. I know you have you leave in the morning.." you remind yourself as you add a few marshmallows to your cups, walking up to him to give him his drink, "Why do you keep apologizing? I meant it when I said I wanted to be here." He reminds you as he takes the cup out of your hands, unable to hold back a smile the tension on your shoulders loosen, relaxing at his remark.
"If it doesn't bother you.." grabbing the blankets off the couch and opening the window "the nights beautiful.. and the view is better on the roof.." seeing the confusion on his face, you explain in a simple manner "don't worry, it'll be quick and the roof's actually pretty clean. Stargazing on the roof is actually pretty calming."
Trusting your rather odd offer you set your mugs on the counter next to the window to easily step out onto the fire escape. Once both of you had exited you grab both your mugs through the window and head up the steps leading to the roof
"Y'know I didn't expect having to climb out a window today." "Honestly I didn't expect to be stargazing with you, but it's not so bad is it?" "No, no it's not."
--------------------
Reaching the roof you set 1 of the blankets down to avoid sitting directly on the roof.
Sitting down you pat the spot next to you asking him to sit down, doing as you request, he settles beside you holding onto his hot cocoa for warmth "The second blanket is for us, no secret that it's gonna get chilly." You explained, casually wrapping it around both of you, what a bold move.
You smile at him, showing fulfillment and joy. The smiled you both see around each other always show honesty, such a simple gesture can convey so much. Now under the moonlight, snuggled together close, his heart couldn't handle how lovely it felt. You could've sworn you saw his eye water a little, that or the light of the moon glistened brighter than usual.
Looking up at the stars, admiring their light and formations, sipping on your warm drink, the air in your lungs start to lock up. Exhaling a breath you didn't know you were keeping in, the comfortable silence was broken with emotions put into words.
"Other than a ball of fire a huge distance away, do you think they can be anything else?"
"I don't know." he answered with simplicity and honesty.
"You ever wonder how long the stars have been here?"
"Not really, I don't look up at the sky that often. But I'm sure they've been here for a while."
Say it.
"I'd happily wait a billion years to see you."
Taken by surprise, he swings his head to take a look at you.
"..whether it be coming to the café, picking me up, coming home from a trip or seeing you in another life. I'll be here, waiting for you to come home. You wouldn't ever have to second guess it, because I'll be here, loving every second of it."
Looking up at him, to pour your heart out. "Because every second of it, I'll be loving you."
Letting out a shaky breath, holding you closer, softly yet firmly holding onto your hand, letting out the simple truth.
"That and so much more is the reason why I can say: I love you too."
22 notes · View notes
pukanavis · 2 years
Text
Exciting Blue Sea・Exa Peta Summer Vacation Pt 1 - New Denta Island
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Denta: ‘Summer’ ! The dazzling season that comes once a year!!
…However, it’s become a daily occurence for us now. Thanks to the swollen sun, the seasons don’t change and we have to deal with the scorching heat all day every day…
BUTTT!! That can’t be right!? The treasured ‘summers’ of the past weren't like this!!
Remember summer! Remember it, even if you never knew it!! Remember the sparkling 'summer holidays' full of blue oceans, white beaches and skies full of fluffy clouds!!
Mingle! Play! Enjoy the summer! At the New Denta Island Resort grand openingggg!!!
♡ ♡ ♡
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Cobalt: It’s the seaaaaaa!!!
Neon: Wow…
Kei: It’s huge! Is this whole place seriously a man-made island…!?
Chrom: It would appear so. According to the pamphlet, New Denta Island is a recreation of a ‘beach resort’.
I’ve heard that swimming at beaches such as this was a common ‘summer’ activity before the swelling sun phenomenon.
Alto: I must admit, I was rather shocked. I’d already seen on the news that the newest wave of large-scale sunlight barriers had been implemented but—
I can’t believe they’ve turned an entire man-made island into a resort…
Cobalt: That boat ride was super fun! I’ve never travelled this far away before!
Kei: Don’t get too excited. We didn’t come here to mess around.
They invited us here to put on a live show for their opening celebration event.
Cobalt: I already know all that! What to do first~♪ I wanna try ‘swimming’~♪
Kei: You’re just thinking about goofing off…!
Alto: It’s alright, Kei. There's still a while before you’re all scheduled to perform.
Right now they've just invited us to have a look around so we’re free to have a bit of fun.
Kei: Really? Well, I guess we can relax then…
Chrom: I kept a record just in case. “July XX. Day 1. Upon invitation, arrive at New Denta Island.”
“Spend 2 nights and 3 days at the facility in hopes of finding inspiration for the celebration live show.”
“Aside from us, there will be numerous other vacationers there as well,” —I wonder if they’re also here on invitation?
Alto: I heard that they wanted to do a test before the official opening and held a lottery for it so I assume the other people here must be winners of it.
Neon: Let’s go. I want to get a closer look at the ocean.
Cobalt: Let’s go, let’s go! I wonder what the beach’ll be like!?
Neon: I’m going…
Cobalt: Huh!? You’re so fast! Wait up, Neon!
Kei: Ah—hey, you guys! …They’re gone. Not only Cobalt but Neon too.
Chrom: This is their first time seeing a sight such as this, after all. From the looks of it, Neon is much more chipper than usual.
Alto: If they run like that, they’ll—!
Cobalt: AAAHH!?
Neon: Oh, you fell.
Alto: Ahh, I knew it…!
Chrom: I see. The composition of the sand makes it easy to lose your footing. If you're not familiar with it, it’s likely that you’ll trip and fall.
Kei: Dammit. He’s covered in sand now.
Cobalt: Hurry up guys—! It feels so smooth to stand on! This is so much fun!
Kei: Okay, okay. We’re coming so you can quit yelling like that.
Chrom: Is there enough time in our schedule for this, Doctor?
Alto: There’s still a while before we need to meet up with the manager so I think we should have enough time to go and have some fun.
Chrom: That’s wonderful to hear. Now then, shall we go join them?
Alto: Yeah!
(The sandy beach, the ocean…in the past, this was the kind of resort that people spent days full of fun at.)
(—This is a 'summer vacation'...!)
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opalsdarkreadings · 4 years
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✰𝙅𝙪𝙟𝙪𝙩𝙨𝙪 𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙣: 𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧✰
Pairings: Gojo, Yuji, Fushiguro, Nobara, x gender neutral reader
Warnings: light cursing
Notes: writers block is a bitch! Took like three weeks to write this ;-; I still hope you guys enjoy this little fluff. As you can probably tell I suck at it and I’m trying to get better 😭
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『𝕊𝕒𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕦 𝔾𝕠𝕛𝕠』
This was going to be one of the Christmas you never forget, he promised himself that. Each year you found some way to knock him off his feet, every gift being etched into his memory never to be forgotten.
He wanted the same for you. This need of acceptance and praise from you was bigger then any sweet tooth craving he’s ever had. He wanted this year to be the year that truly left you speechless. After all you were his lover and deserved nothing less.
But whatever he came up with just didn’t sit right. Trips and expensive gifts, just material things like cars or shoes couldn’t possibly bring the punch he was looking for. You needed something that’ll forever be engraved into your mind, something that the mere thought of would bring tears to you.
He didn’t care for his gifts but when it concerned you, only the best was presented and he’ll be damn if he lets it slip this year. But he was pulling at straws at this point, some things were just cliche and cheesy. Dresses, designer clothes, bags etc they all seemed to pale in comparison.
Well till he landed on this rare find.
Satoru was quit persistent in getting you into sharing one of his treats. The Christmas theme cake hadn’t even been cut yet, as he tried to get you into the kitchen. “Come on~ it’s really good I get it every year! So you have to try it.” He said smiling as he stood towering over you. A skeptical glance was thrown back to him as your place a hand over your hip, “And when did you ever share any of your rare sweet treats with me agian?” Not only was this unusual, it’s damn near unheard of. Your lover had a ginormoussweet tooth that’ll leave even large cake corporations at bankruptcy’s trying to cater to Satoru. His sweet tooth always aching for more, turning him into a beast of gluttony when concerning these treats. However he persisted, talking so highly about the cake you were beginning to become intrigued yourself about the delicious gem hidden in the white box on the table. “Alright fine..” you sighed in defeat and allow for your eager boyfriend to drag you out the living room and into your shared kitchen. Something was definitely off, he was eager, excited,...maybe even nervous? His usual demeanor of going with flow and laid back attitude had disappear. He seemed almost like a child getting ready to tell their parents of there recent troubles they’ve gotten into. However, he left no time for you to ponder on his odd behavior, and instead gently pushed the box to you and grins. The box beng small so you was puzzled as to why he was sharing it in the first place. Questioningly you glance to him, before untieing the little red bow on top, and pushing opening the box. A moment of pause, before a soft gasp left you. A bright sapphire as bright as Satoru own eyes stared back at you. The gem being as clear and bright as any beachs ocean gleamering as the kitchen lights shines above. The sliver ring holding the jewel was embedded with little small diamond along the curve of the metal. Giving it a simple yet still elegant finish. You gap to him like fish, gasping for word to form. “S-satoru?!”
You were left speechless and he knew he had outdone himself. Your eyes, so wide that they looked ready to fall out of your sockets as you gasp for sentence or word to fall from your lips.
This cocky little shit was eating up your reaction with the utmost confident air around him. Though it did dispel his nervousness he’s had since he spotted the ring. 
I know right? The strongest being scared? Unheard of, but god was it killing him. He had nothing, robbed of his childhood by the same people that criticize him to this day. His existence used for that to be a tool, looked too at the strongest but was he? Maybe that’s why he felt a need to hid behind his smile, a need to cover up the fucked up shit swelling Internally
He wanted to hide it, but you just couldn’t take no for an answer
You saw past the disguise of his, his cocky and laid back attitude only cushion the many times he’s nearly broken down on a day to day bases. His sweets and little trips only serving as an escape from the cruel world he was born into, from the hurt and betrayal he’s faced.
He loved you so much, and just wanted to make it official. He wants to make it known that you are his, that you are something that he cares deeply about. That the holidays were just days to him until you came around. You turned these days into something special and without you, he wouldn’t find pleasure in this.
“Satoru...are you-.”
“Well? I’m waiting cutie~.” He said back smirking as he rests his chin over your shoulder.
You smile, humming as you examine the ring. “well I’m still quite puzzled mind explaining what you’re trying to say?” You tease and he roll his eyes playfully
“Well sense my little cutie isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed~ I’m asking for you to marry me, now say yes and become mine.” Satoru explained and slide the ring over your ring finger. Glowing at how well it contrasted against you’re skin tone.
He pressed a kiss over the knuckle of the ring finger. “Well if I’m not the sharpest I best be the most well built.” You raise a brow and Satoru grins
“Maybe~.”
“Don’t make me put you outside.”
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『𝕐𝕦𝕛𝕚 𝕀𝕥𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕣𝕚』
You peeked over you boyfriends shoulder. His lips presssed together in a fine line as mumbles over the cook book. Little cookie cutters of gingerbread men and snowmen sitting idly by beside him. He was so deeply concentrated in his own work, he hadn’t notice you reaching out and scooping some of the mix onto your finger. “Yuji~.” You called out to him sweelty , your cookie batter, covered finger hidden behind you as you waited for his response . “Oh yeah? What’s-eh!” He turned to face you, smiling till your spread the batter over his nose and cackle in laughter. You jump back, snickering as you pink hair lover went crossed eyed to see the gunck over his nose. Grining you threw up a hand to him and shrugs, “Oops.” He pouts to you and wipes the batter from his nose, “Ah! Babe that not funny, you totally took me by surprise.” He said grabbing the bowel of soft cookie batter , a devilish grin spreading over his lips as he scoops a handful.“That’s the-.” You squeaked as batter came flying at you at rocket launch speed and splat against your shirt. You go wide eyed , and this time, it’s your boyfriend laughing his ass off at your surprises and hurt expressions. “Oh?! This means war pretty boy!” You sneered back to him, both of you eyeing the flower idly laying over the counter. A moment of silence took you both, before chaos was let loose.
Flour, eggs, and whatever condiments you could fine along with cookie batter flew across the kitchen of the apartment. Your laughter and shouts of glee carrying out in the room as you both bounce around like children in the snow
This cookie war ending with both of you near the kitchen doors. Soon enough, having you collapse over the floor in fits of giggles as flour and batter cling to your hair and clothes. Though it did nothing to dampen your sprits, as you both just smile like idiots in each other presence and huff out of breath.
As silly as it may sound, you both just found relief in being in each other presence. Moments like this being few in numbers already with both of your busy lifestyle. As these were the only times that you two weren’t fighting just to live, but to enjoy the life you fought so hard to keep. To be young adults and and enjoy the mundane things that many others would see no joy in. A time where you both could forget the responsibility laid out on you and shrink back to your child like selves again.
For Yuji, you were, In his eyes the greatest gift anyone to give him. He never had lot of people to count on, but for you...you meant the world to him and he wouldn’t know how he survived this long without you.
“Hey...look what we’re under.” Yuji whispered to you, grinning like a lovesick fools as your eyes trail over to the mistletoe hanging lazily from the door frame of the kitchen. A small chuckle left your lips and your glance back to to your eager boyfriend, who was practically ready to pounce on you.
“Oh? Now you want a kiss after ruining my favorite shirt. Clearly I must have become quit the softy.” You teased, but leaned in nonetheless to seal the space between your. Your lips pressed together gently before locking into a sweet kiss. One hand cupping along his cheek while he opt to pull you close to his chest.
Only breaking your contact to pressed another to your temple, “mhm Merry Christmas baby.” He smiles to you
“Yeah, yeah, you owe me a new shirt.”
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『𝔽𝕦𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕘𝕦𝕣𝕠 𝕄𝕖𝕘𝕦𝕞𝕚』
Megumi didn’t quit understand your obsession with Christmas. Yes it was quit a fun time of the year with giving and just great things that happen around this time but...it was like any other holiday.
People go out, celebrate, eat, give out some sort of gift with set theme of celebration and party till theirs drunk off their ass. It’s nothing new.
He just wished sometimes you weren’t his weak spot.
“Come on Megumi, I’m sure you’ll look great.” You encouraged as you stood outside your bedroom waiting for your lover. A grunt of distaste was heard from him and you roll your eyes back. “I look like an idiot.” He grumbles from behind the door. Refusing to come out as you huff. “The parties in like 30 minutes, plus we have to catch the train to get there so hurry up.” You told him. It’s silent on the other end before a brief click was heard the door slowly opens. You beam seeing Megumi as he steps out, a loud red sweater with actual ornaments hang off them jingle as he walks by. You stifle your laughter and grin to him, “See was that so hard?” You asked him, snickering under your breath. he grimaced each time he walks and sighs heavily, “you owe me big time for this..” he mumbles, face fix into a that of disgust as once over both of your outfits, “Why did you choose these of all the outfits we could have worn?” He asked you, “Well Nobara and Yuji are all wearing ugly sweaters so we decided to do it as a group things I just found the ugliest ones possible.” You grin to him , taking his hand and dragging your poor green eyed lover. “Y/n I love you, but you seriously trying to kill me from embarrassment.” He groans, earning a laugh from you as you glance back to him. A soft grin already spreading over his lips, though he tried to hid it by turining his face.
He didn’t care for the holidays, but here he was being dragged off to a party celebrating it just to see you smile more and beam in happiness to him. Holidays were once times he spent alone, locked away from the cheerful couples that mocked his loneliness everytime he went out around this year. A time he used to reflect over all the fucked up shit he endure over the year.
When you came into his life, that feeling is bitterness began to melt. He no longer looked to the holiday as bitter reflections on the year but a time that he was able to spend with the person he cared the most with.
Yes he still got caught up in his thought and things he could’ve done and what he should’ve done, but now he had your gently touch to lure him back to the present. To keep his focus on the time that’s in front of him, you were the rock he always needed and no gift could ever replace that.
“Megumi thank you, for coming with me. I know this is out your comfort zone and all but I’m really proud of you.” You told him grinning back to him as you pecks his cheek and grabbed hold of his hand. His large palm taking yours and squeezing it back as he nods, “it’s nothing.” He says back shaking his head. His soft green orbs finding their way back to your face as he sighs. “I’m only going so you want kill me later on so I better be getting something out of this.” He smirked
“I can always grab that collar? Oh you know what I think it’ll go great with the sweater!” You said excitedly
“N-never mind...wait y/n please I was just playing!”
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『ℕ𝕠𝕓𝕒𝕣𝕒 𝕂𝕦𝕘𝕚𝕤𝕒𝕜𝕚』
You love the holidays just like the next the person..but Nobara, took holiday shopping to an entire new level
You go into the mall at sunrise and won’t return until the streets light have gone out. Gifts were stack on top of gifts, with even more being carried by you and her(mostly you). Even though majority of them were clothes for herself and you, you still however came out with weeping wallet and empty bank account.
Which leads you into this predicament every year.
Mountain of gifts, wrapping paper, bows, and tape laid sprawled out over the floor. Your feet being buried under shiny red, green, and blue wrapping paper as you sigh heavily from exhaustion. Your been wrapping all night, and have only got to about half of the gift and stuffed under you’re already bloated tree. Your girlfriend, hunched over your couch as she searched for the tape she recently just drop as she mumbles to herself. “I told you you bought to much...again.” You sigh pulling some masking tape off you’re coffee table and handing it to her. she huffed and grabbing the tape and landing back on the floor as she goes back to wrapping. Her hair was slightly clipped back with reindeer clippings, allowing to see her cute little pout as she puffed out her cheek In deep concentration. Smiling you walk over to her and settle down beside her. Head leaning on her shoulder as she finished off the last of her load. “what?” She asked, glancing back to you. “Nothing...you just...look so cute all concentrated like that.” You teased reaching over and pinching at her cheek. “I’m always cute darling~.” She sneered back and swat your hand away playful as she grins slightly. You giggle and wrap you arms around her and rest your chin over her shoulder. She hands the box over to you and you turn and place it under the tree. “Hot coco break?” You suggest, “God yes.” Nobara answer back and you both retreat into the kitchen.
The Christmas spirit never really possessing her like others, she selfishly though of herself and only looked forward to the receiving of holiday. Though you came and shattered that little mindset of hers.
It’s been like that since you came into her life. Pushing her pass her limits and getting her to open up more and more. Her normal confident and brash attitude she gives others, melt away when you gaze to her. Her heart goes ramming into her chest and tightening her throat
You had no idea how much of affect you had on her, the holidays a time she looked forward too. Knowing you’ll be by her side singing those annoying Christmas carols or bouncing around like child to bake some Christmas treats
Her gifts now, being about 1/4 for you and the rest for her but I guess some things can’t entirely change others.
“Babe? Who are all those gifts for anyway?” You question
“Me, and about two or three for you.” Nobara answered while sipping over her hot coco. You sigh in defeat
“Y-you never change..”
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buckybarnesdollface · 4 years
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Traditions: Chapter 1
Summary:  Bucky has nowhere to go for the holidays, so reader invites him to come home to spend Christmas with her family. Christmas cuteness ensues.      
Warnings: None, just fluff in this chapter, female reader
           “So, what are everyone’s plans for Christmas?” Pepper asked everyone as soon as the debriefing meeting had ended. The team had just gotten back from a mission in South Africa, and were in desperate need of a distraction.
           As expected, Tony and Pepper were spending Christmas with Morgan at their cabin. Clint and Scott were also spending Christmas with their kids, and Peter was spending it with May and MJ. Sam was going back to Harlem to spend the holidays with his parents, and Thor would be in New Asgard with his people. Rhodey was also spending it with his parents, and Bruce was going to Germany to be a key speaker at a science seminar for nuclear physicists. Wanda and Vision were spending their Christmas in London, and Steve and Natasha – still in the honeymoon phase of their new relationship – were headed to Hawaii until the new year.
           “I’ll be heading to Maine to spend Christmas with my family,” I said when everyone looked to me. “My mom would kill me if I didn’t come home for the holidays.”
           “What about you, Buck?” Sam asked, drawing everyone’s attention to the supersoldier at Steve’s side who, up until now, had been very quiet and subdued. He shrugged, his face unreadable.
           “I dunno, I don’t really have plans,” he mumbled. “I’ll probably just hang out here, or maybe head into the city. I always loved Christmas in New York.”
           Tony stood and clapped his hands together. “Excellent, now that everyone’s had a chance to share, why don’t we all get some rest?” he said. “It’s been a long week and I’m sure we’re all exhausted.” He grinned. “Enjoy your holidays, everyone, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
           Pepper set a hand on my arm as I was gathering up the paperwork from the meeting. “You did good, kid,” she told me, and I beamed shyly. As Pepper’s assistant I was often in the loop of what was going on with the team, but this was the first mission that she’d given me the reins and I had been so nervous. Hearing her praise had my chest swelling.
           “Thank you, Pepper,” I breathed. “Really, it means so much.”
           She gave me a warm smile. “You’re officially part of the team, kiddo,” she murmured. “Have a good Christmas. I’ll see you in the new year.”
           “Merry Christmas, Pepper.”
           As Pepper caught up with Tony, I found my eyes scanning the conference room for a certain dark-haired supersoldier. He was just ducking out the door when I spotted him, and I quickly tucked the papers under my arm before following him.
           “Bucky!” I called, and he turned and stopped, waiting for me to catch up. He gave me a small smile when I did.
           “What’s up, doll?” he asked. He looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes and his face drawn. Though his lips were still curved in a friendly smile his eyes were sad, and I frowned, fighting the urge to pull him tight to me and hug him. Instead, I shook my head.
           “Are you really gonna stay here over Christmas?” I asked him, and he shrugged.
           “Why not?”
           I pursed my lips. “Because you’ll be alone,” I protested, and Bucky’s friendly expression faltered. Finally, he sighed and shook his head.
           “What choice do I have, (Y/N)?” he said. “I have no family to spend it with, and all my friends have plans with their own families and loved ones. That leaves just me.” Again, he shrugged. “I’m used to being alone, I’ll be fine.”
           Bucky was trying hard to seem carefree about it, and to most people it probably would have worked. But since becoming Pepper’s assistant eight months ago, I had developed friendships with everyone on the team, especially Steve and Bucky. So I could see the pain in the set of Bucky’s shoulders and in the depths of his eyes even if his expression and voice didn’t show it. Hesitantly, I reached out to set a hand on Bucky’s arm. He hadn’t yet changed out of his tactical gear and the fabric of his jacket was stiff under my palm.
           “No one should be alone on Christmas,” I said softly. “You have plenty of friends who wouldn’t mind you joining them for the holiday.”
           Bucky snorted. “Steve offered for me to go to Hawaii with him and Nat,” he said, “but I declined. I didn’t think being a third wheel would be a great way to spend Christmas.”
           “I didn’t mean Steve.”
           “What?” I watched as realization dawned across Bucky’s features. “(Y/N), I couldn’t… This is your time with your family, I can’t intrude on that. Besides, I can’t imagine they’d be okay with having me there…”
           But I was shaking my head, having already made up my mind. “Don’t be ridiculous, they’ll be happy to have you. I’ll call my mom tonight to let her know to get one more bedroom ready.” I grinned. “Now go get some rest and pack your things, we leave tomorrow at noon.”
           Before Bucky had time to argue, I headed towards mine and Pepper’s offices to dispense of the paperwork under my arm. This was certainly going to be an interesting Christmas, to say the least.
                     As I had expected, my mom was happy to have Bucky there for Christmas once I explained the situation to her. So, that was how him and I found ourselves in first class seats on a flight to Bangor, courtesy of Tony and Pepper. Tony had offered to let us take a quinjet, but when we both declined, he insisted to at least pay for our tickets.
           Bucky was silent most of the flight, and I could tell he was nervous. Biting my lip, I nudged my knee with his.
           “You keep shaking your leg like that and you’re gonna have the whole plane shaking,” I teased. A flush crept up his neck to his face and his leg stopped abruptly.
           “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I just…People are staring.”
           I had been well-aware of the looks we’d gotten as soon as we boarded the plane. Bucky tended to draw attention wherever he went – Even if he weren’t Bucky Barnes, his towering six-foot-two frame of thick muscle and his strikingly handsome face were hard to ignore. He had hidden his vibranium arm underneath a black bomber jacket and leather gloves, and he had recently cut his long hair short, but it seemed everyone still knew who he was.
           “You’re an Avenger,” I said with a shrug. “Of course they’re staring.”
           “I’m the Winter Soldier,” he corrected sullenly. “They all know what I’ve done. They’re afraid of me.”
           Pursing my lips, I reached over to take his flesh hand into mine. “Don’t focus on everyone else,” I told him, ignoring the surprise in his eyes when my fingers laced through his. “Focus on the amazing Christmas vacation we’re going to have. Focus on Christmas lights and building snowmen and cheesy Christmas music on the radio.”
           Bucky let out a short huff of a laugh, but some of the tension had evaporated from his features. “Sounds like the plot for one of those silly Christmas movies that every channel on television plays all through December,” he said, and I flashed him a grin.
           “You haven’t met my family. When it comes to Christmas, we’re as cheesy as they get.”
           As I explained to Bucky what to expect when we got to my parents’ place, the stress visibly dissipated from his body, until he was laughing at the prospect of witnessing my father wearing a Santa hat and distributing presents from under the tree on Christmas morning.
           Bucky’s laugh drew the attention of a few people around us, and before he could realize that people were once again staring, I shot them a glare that could have frozen hell. They shrank back in their seats and Bucky and I continued our conversation, him none the wiser to what had just happened.
                     My parents were waiting for us when we got off the plane in Bangor. As soon as my mother caught sight of me, she threw her arms around me and pulled me into a tight hug.
           “(Y/N), I’m so glad you’re home,” she exclaimed. “Your brother and sister are already at the house; they’ll be so glad to see you.”
           “I missed you too, Mom,” I chuckled, and then I turned to embrace my dad.
           “Hey, kid,” he said. “How was your flight?”
           “Good.” I shrugged. “Tony upgraded us to first class, so that was nice.” I turned to find that Bucky had retrieved our luggage from the baggage claim and was now standing awkwardly off to one side. Shaking my head, I went over and grabbed him by the arm to pull him into the group. “Mom, Dad, this is Bucky Barnes,” I introduced. “Bucky, these are my parents.”
           Bucky shook each of their hands, making sure to use his flesh hand. “It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. (Y/L/N),” he murmured. “And thank you so much for having me. I know it was very last-minute, and I really appreciate it.”
           “It’s our pleasure, really. The more the merrier,” my mom said cheerfully. “And please, call us John and Karey.”
           Bucky nodded shyly, and then once again grabbed our luggage. I reached for my suitcase, but Bucky shook his head as he pulled it out of my reach. “I’ve got it,” he insisted, and I frowned.
           “But it’s heavy –”
           “Maybe for you.” Bucky winked and then lifted my suitcase above his waist as if it weighed no more than a purse. I rolled my eyes, but a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth as the Bucky I knew peeked through his anxious exterior.
           “Show-off,” I muttered.
           “Don’t be sour, doll,” Bucky said over his shoulder as he followed my parents out to the parking lot. “Jealousy isn’t becoming.”
           I wanted to respond to his comment with something sarcastic or witty, but was too happy seeing him at ease that I decided against it and instead followed him and my parents to their truck.
           The drive home was spent catching up with my parents; I hadn’t seen them since June, and my mom had so much to fill me in on. Bucky sat next to me in the backseat, and although he was politely listening to my mother ramble on about my uncle’s new puppy, I could tell he felt out of place. He spent a lot of time looking out the window in silence, and although I wanted to reach across the seat to take his hand, I knew that would likely only make him more uncomfortable and invite awkward questions from my parents.
           “So, Bucky,” my dad said suddenly, and Bucky’s head snapped up, shocked to have been addressed directly. “How do you usually spend the holidays?”
           Bucky’s face fell for only a split second before he composed himself again and his lips quirked up the tiniest bit at one corner. “Well, sir, if I’m being honest it’s been awhile since I’ve celebrated Christmas,” he admitted ruefully, and I could see my dad’s brow furrow in the rearview mirror. Before he could open his mouth and make this situation any more uncomfortable, I spoke.
           “We’ll make sure this is one to remember, then,” I said to Bucky with a warm smile, in which he returned with his own small smile.
           As we turned down the lane and drove up to the house, I couldn’t help but feel excited. As much as I loved New York and loved my job at the Avengers compound, I was a small-town girl at heart and I had missed the farm that I’d grown up on.
           It hadn’t changed at all in my twenty-six years of life; the same big white farmhouse with the green shutters and the oak tree out front, the large yard, and the old red barn that at one time held horses but was now just used to store tractor parts. It had just snowed the night before, and everything was covered in a thin blanket of sparkling white. My parents had already put up most of the outdoor lights, but I saw that they had saved the big red pine. A smile lit up my face.
           “Are we decorating the pine today?” I asked excitedly, and my mom grinned.
           “You didn’t think we’d do it without you, did you?” she asked as we got out of the truck. Bucky gave me a questioning look and I grinned.
           “We’ve decorated this tree as a family since we were little kids,” I explained. “Our ceilings were never high enough to have an enormous tree so we’d always decorate this one to be as stunning as the one inside.”
           “That’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard,” Bucky chuckled, and I couldn’t help the blush that warmed my cheeks. Ducking my head, I motioned towards the house.
           “C’mon, I’ll introduce you to my brother and sister and give you a tour.”
           I could tell as soon as my brother saw Bucky walk through the door that he was about to burst with excitement and a million questions – He had been obsessed with the Avengers long before I had become Pepper’s assistant. Remembering how uncomfortable Bucky had been at my dad’s unintentionally invasive questions, I shot Jeremy a look that told him to keep his mouth shut and give Bucky space.
           To my relief, both Jeremy and Katie were polite and friendly when I introduced Bucky to them. I could see some of the tension ease out of his shoulders now that he had met my family and they’d accepted him, and I set a hand briefly on his arm.
           “I’ll give you a tour of the house and then show you the room you’ll be staying in,” I told him, and he nodded before following me out of the foyer.
           “This is my room,” I told him after we’d gone through the first floor and climbed the stairs. I pushed open the door and gestured for him to come in after he hesitated. The room hadn’t changed since I moved out at eighteen to go to college; originally my parents had planned to turn it into an office but they’d never gotten around to it, and so the Zac Efron posters and constellation-patterned bedsheets still remained.
           Bucky picked up a stuffed Garfield off my desk and his lips tugged up into a smirk. “Cute,” he said, and I stuck my tongue out at him.
           “Alright, out of here before you start picking apart everything in here,” I said, ushering Bucky to the door. He laughed, turning to grin at me.
           “I wasn’t making fun of you, doll,” he chuckled. “I really did think it was cute. I think I would have liked to know the (Y/N) that liked stuffed animals and had posters of half-naked men on her walls.”
           I snorted and shoved him playfully away from my room. “Yeah, well, you stick around here long enough and you’ll probably get to see her,” I told him wryly. “I tend to revert back to her when I’m home for any amount of time.”
           Bucky’s answering smile was warm, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I’m looking forward to it,” he murmured, no hint of teasing left in his voice, and for some reason it had my cheeks hot and my stomach fluttering. After an awkward silence, I opened the door to the bedroom next to mine.
           “This is where you’ll be sleeping,” I said, clearing my throat. “That way if you need anything during the night…” I trailed off, but the look on Bucky’s face told me that he knew I was referring to his nightmares. He offered me a small smile.
           “It’s great, (Y/N), really.” He gave me a shy look. “Thank you for all of this. I would have been at the compound by myself watching Christmas movies on TV if it weren’t for you.”
           “Well we couldn’t have that, now, could we?” I teased half-heartedly, but the atmosphere in the room had changed. The air between us was heavy with a feeling I couldn’t quite place my finger on; it was certainly not something I had felt around him before. I had always felt comfortable around Bucky, from the moment we met – I could be myself around him, and he himself around me. But now I felt myself struggling to find words to say and my stomach was in a constant flutter.
           Luckily, the awkwardness was shattered by Katie calling up the stairs that they were going to decorate the pine tree whether Bucky and I were ready or not. Shooting each other sheepish grins, we both made to head to the staircase at the same time and bumped into each other in the door frame. Bucky stepped back.
           “Ladies first,” he said graciously, and I blushed as I ducked past him.
                     “A little higher,” my mom said as my dad and Jeremy were on ladders stringing lights around the top of the pine tree. Katie and I were at the bottom, each trying to keep one of the ladders steady, as my mom directed the guys on where to hang the lights. Bucky was off to one side, watching us with a slightly amused expression.
           “(Y/N), hold the ladder still, would ya?” my dad grumbled and I rolled my eyes dramatically. I could hear Katie snickering from the other side of the tree.
           “It looks good enough, Mom,” Jeremy groaned, after my mom had told him to hang the lights from a different branch. “You won’t be able to tell in the dark which branch they’re hanging from anyway.”
           Another argument about light placement ensued, and I couldn’t help but smile; it wasn’t tradition if at least four arguments didn’t take place while we were putting up the lights. After a bit more arguing and my dad and Jeremy doing some rearranging among heavy sighs, the lights were finally strung to my mother’s satisfaction.
           “What about the star?” my mom asked as the men climbed down the ladders. I pulled the big silver star out of the tote we stored the lights in and turned to Bucky with a grin.
           “I think we should let Bucky do it,” I said, and a smile brightened my mom’s face.
           “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”
           I carried the star over and handed it to Bucky. He looked uncertain, like he wanted to argue against it, but I was already nudging him towards the tree. His cheeks pink, he climbed the ladder after a nod of encouragement from me, and gracefully set the star atop the highest bough of the tree.
           After Bucky had climbed down the ladder and taken position at my side, my dad pulled the remote for the timer from his pocket, pressing a button and turning the lights on. I had seen it over a dozen times now, but it still filled me with warmth and happiness every time and I couldn’t help but smile like a little kid.
           “Alright, it’s done and I’m cold,” Jeremy said. “Let’s go inside and get some food.”
           “Can’t you just enjoy it for a minute?” my mom replied.
           “It’s snowing!” Katie suddenly exclaimed, and we all looked up to the sky. It was indeed snowing, snowflakes falling from the sky softly and catching in the light from the tree. I turned to look at Bucky, who had his own childlike grin on his face.
           “It’s beautiful,” he breathed, stretching out his left arm to catch a few snowflakes on his leather-gloved hand. The vibranium underneath the leather was cool, preserving the snowflakes long enough to inspect their intricate designs.
           “We might get a white Christmas for the first time in years,” I said in excitement, and Bucky grinned.
           “Y’know, there was a time when we always had a white Christmas,” he chuckled, and I scrunched my nose at him.
           “Yeah, yeah; c’mon, old man,” I teased, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the house where the others were already headed. “It’s getting cold and dark; let’s go in where it’s warm and make some hot cocoa.”
           My mom had already turned the kettle on by the time we’d gotten inside and stripped off our jackets and boots, and it wasn’t long before we’d all settled down in the living room with steaming mugs of hot cocoa with marshmallows. Bucky and I had settled onto the loveseat as my dad turned on a hockey game.
           “You a hockey fan, Bucky?” my dad asked, and Bucky shrugged.
           “I like it,” he replied. “Haven’t really had much time to follow sports for years now, but baseball was always more my sport; that and boxing.” He grinned. “Steve and I did go see the Rangers play the Maple Leafs at Madison Square Garden for one of the Stanley Cup Final games, though.”
           My dad’s eyebrows shot up. “The Rangers haven’t played the Leafs in the finals since…”
           “Since 1940,” Bucky finished, a rueful smile on his face. “I definitely dated myself with that one, didn’t I? Sometimes I forget that people don’t realize I’m actually almost one hundred and four years old.”
           “(Y/N) told us how old you and Steve were,” my dad explained. “It’s just hard to remember, considering you look barely over thirty.”
           Bucky’s lips twitched. “Spending most of your life in a cryo chamber does wonders for your complexion,” he said wryly, and although his tone was teasing his eyes told a different story. I sat up straighter, tucking my legs under myself, and cleared my throat.
           “Has anyone heard if Uncle Joe is coming up for Christmas this year?” I asked, changing the subject and successfully diverting everyone’s focus away from Bucky. He shot me a grateful look to which I returned with a warm smile, hoping that I wouldn’t have to keep jumping in to stop my family from making Bucky uncomfortable all through Christmas.
                     “(Y/N), you’re twenty-six years old; I shouldn’t have to tell you not to eat raw cookie dough!” my mom scolded as I dipped my finger into the bowl of dough she had whipped up for molasses cookies and licked it clean, savouring the spicy-sweet flavour of it. I grinned sheepishly at my glaring mother.
           “If I get salmonella then it’s totally worth it; this tastes amazing, Mom,” I told her, and she rolled her eyes as she mixed together the pumpkin pie filling.
           “Flattery won’t get you anywhere.”
           I shrugged. “Well, I tried.” Digging a spoon out of the drawer, I dipped it into the bowl and then held the spoonful of dough out to Bucky. “You have to try this, Buck, it’s so good.”
           “(Y/N)!” my mom hissed. “It’s bad enough if you make yourself sick, but I’m not going to let you make our guest sick as well.”
           “Don’t worry, ma’am,” Bucky said, eyes sparkling as he took the spoon from me. “One good thing about being superhuman is that I don’t get sick.” He stuck the spoon in his mouth and his lips curved into a grin. “That’s gotta be the best damn cookie dough I’ve ever tasted.”
           “See?” I exclaimed. “I told you so.”
           My mom muttered something about the two of us being “peas in a pod,” and Bucky and I laughed as we began to spoon the dough onto a cookie sheet. In the past twelve hours Bucky had relaxed considerably, bonding over hockey with my dad and brother, helping my sister wrap the gifts she got me so I wouldn’t see what they were, and helping my mom with the Christmas baking. It warmed my heart to see him fitting in with my family, and reinforced my belief that inviting him to come home with me had been the right decision.
           After an afternoon baking and an evening of Christmas movies – specifically Elf, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, and Christmas Vacation – everyone agreed that we were going to retire early for the night. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and as I had already warned Bucky, the next two days were going to be very busy and there wouldn’t be much time for rest.
           Sometime in the middle of the night, though, I woke with my throat parched and cursed to myself when a glance at the nightstand told me I had forgotten to bring up a glass of water with me when I’d gone to bed. My body had grown used to the self-adjusting climatizer at the compound, and so the dry air caused by the wood furnace in the basement had my throat aching.
           With a sigh, I pushed off my blankets and slid out of bed, making my way down the creaky old staircase as quietly as possible so as to not wake up anyone else in the house.
           In the kitchen I poured myself a glass of water, and the cold liquid instantly soothed my parched throat as I swallowed. The clock on the stove said 2:19; I should have been in bed, but I was awake now and instead chose to sit in the living room in the comforting lights of the tree and the fireplace until I felt tired again.
           I was surprised to find that Bucky was already doing just that. He glanced up as I walked in, and although he looked sheepish at having been caught, he didn’t look surprised to see me; his supersoldier hearing would have alerted him I was awake as soon as I’d stepped out of bed.
           “Bucky,” I breathed. “I came down to get some water; I didn’t expect anyone else to be up right now.”
           “Couldn’t sleep,” he replied with a half-shrug, and I frowned. I came over to sit on the opposite end of the couch, tucking my legs underneath me and nursing my glass of water. I bit my lip.
           “Nightmares?” I asked hesitantly, and he gave me a sad smile and shook his head.
           “Not this time.” He paused before continuing, his gaze drifting to the fireplace. A cozy little fire was burning brightly, making me wonder how long he had been awake – The fire should have been dying embers by now. “I’ve just…got a lot on my mind,” he finally said, eyes still fixed on the flickering flames. I shifted, fingers twitching to reach out to him but deciding against it.
           “Anything you want to talk about?”
           I watched Bucky’s jaw tighten, and then he reached up his flesh hand to run it through his hair before meeting my eyes with what almost seemed like embarrassment.
           “Your family has been so kind,” he started, “and I am incredibly grateful that you asked me to come and spend Christmas here. But…” He trailed off, his eyes dropping to his lap. “Being around your family and seeing how happy you all are and how much you love each other…I can’t help but miss my own family.”
           I had never once in the time I’ve known Bucky hear him speak about his family. He would talk about his early days with Steve, but had never mentioned his parents or siblings, at least not around me. I knew his parents’ names were George and Winnifred, and that he had two sisters named Rebecca and Alice and two brothers named Thomas and David, but only because Steve had told me about them once.
           And seeing the look on Bucky’s face, and hearing the waver in his voice, I now knew why he hadn’t ever spoken of them before. It hurt him to speak of them, even all these decades later. His eyes were dry, but the pain and sadness they held was enough to have a lump forming in the back of my own throat.
           “Christmas was always a big deal to us,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “We didn’t have a lot of money – It was especially hard in the thirties, during the Depression. But Ma and Pa always made it special for us anyway. We’d get a tree and decorate it with homemade ornaments, and on Christmas Eve every year Pa would read us A Christmas Carol; it was tradition. Then we’d wake up Christmas morning and open presents – Ma made us each a new sweater every year – and we’d always get an orange and some chocolate in our stockings, every year.” Bucky grinned ruefully. “It seems silly now ‘cause we eat oranges and chocolate all year ‘round, but back when money was scarce finding those things in your stocking was like finding gold.”
           Bucky was wrapped up in his nostalgia, but his eyes were still sad. I gave him a small smile. “It sounds nice,” I murmured, and he nodded.
           “It was. We may not have had a lot of money, but we had each other.” His eyes fell back to his lap. “Our last real Christmas was in 1940. Christmas in ’41 was a write-off because the U.S. had just joined the war, and I know it broke my ma’s heart when I enlisted but she understood why I did it.”
           “So…1940 was the last time you celebrated Christmas?” My eyes were wide as I regarded Bucky.
           “Guess so,” he chuckled humourlessly. “No one really felt like celebrating in ’41, and it’s hard to celebrate when you’re deep in enemy territory during a world war. After that I spent the next seventy Christmases in cryo, one in Bucharest by myself when I was a war criminal, one in cryo in Wakanda, another in Wakanda that I didn’t bother celebrating, and then after the snap, well…” He trailed off and shrugged. “This is the first Christmas since 1940 that I really have the chance to properly celebrate.”
           It broke my heart that so many of Bucky’s Christmases were taken from him. He’d been through more in his lifetime than likely anyone else on this planet, and yet he managed to stay so strong. Even now, as sad as he was, his eyes remained dry. His jaw was still tight, though, and I bit my lip before setting my glass of water on the coffee table and reaching out a rest a hand on his arm.
           “If I could give you even one more Christmas with your family, Buck, I would,” I murmured softly. Hell, I would give him anything right now if it would take away his sadness. “What I can give you, though,” I continued, “is a Christmas with a family that will do their best to make you feel like you’re one of their own.” I gave him a small smile. “My family adores you, Buck; I know you miss your family and no one will ever replace them, but you can have more than one family. You of course have the team, but you also have my family, and…and me, if you need it.”
           The atmosphere in the room had changed; sadness no longer lingered in the air, replaced with something unfamiliar that felt charged with electricity. I was suddenly very aware of how hot Bucky’s skin was under my hand, and in the light of the fireplace and the Christmas lights his sharp cheekbones and strong jawline were even more prominent. I tried to divert my gaze, my cheeks hot, but Bucky had my eyes locked in his.
           “(Y/N)…” he murmured, and my heart started to race.
           “Yes?” I squeaked.
           “I…” He swallowed hard, and then shook his head, a small smile curving his lips. “Thank you. For all of this. You have no idea how much it means to me to be here.”
           The electric feeling in the air disappeared and I could focus again. I smiled and squeezed his arm before retracting my hand. “I’m glad you’re here,” I told him, and his face softened.
           “Sit with me for a bit?” he asked. “That is, if you aren’t too tired –”
           “I’d love to,” I assured him, and Bucky’s smile was dazzling. I may not be able to give him a Christmas with his family, but I would be damned sure to do everything I could to give him the best Christmas possible.
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awanderingdeal · 4 years
Text
In which Sirius takes back Halloween
My fic for the fabulous fic -o-ween! This is not even remotely scary and is basically a big fluff ball. I hope you enjoy your Halloween as much as Sirius and co!
A big shout out to @ais-for-alex for being my beta for this fic. I did make a couple of changes as I was re-reading this morning (who can resist) so any mistakes are most likely my fault.😂
And finally, a massive thank you to @lumosinlove for lending us these wonderful characters to play with. They really have been a massive part of my lockdown sanity.
Rating: G
CW: Food mentions
“Do you think I should sell this house?” Sirius mused, tapping his long fingers against the rim of his mug.
Remus looked up slowly from his tablet, from which he’d been reading the daily news. “Why would you want to do that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“It’s just so big, you know,” Sirius shrugged, taking a second to formulate his thoughts into a coherent reply. “I kind of just brought it as an act of rebellion when I got my first pay check. We’re never really here and even when we are, we use what, maybe five of the rooms.” He leaned back in his chair, pushing his hair back off his face. “It just feels so soulless,” he finished, glancing at Remus to gauge his reaction. His boyfriend was as impossible to read as ever, not giving an ounce away until he opened his mouth to speak.
“So, give it soul then.” Remus said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Like you said we’re never here. But we could be. We can make memories here if you want to,” he smiled gently at the thought. “Maybe, we could start with me officially moving my stuff in here?” he added, biting into a doughnut casually. If Sirius didn’t know Remus better he would have thought that the monumentality of the question had bypassed him.
Sirius wrapped his arms around Remus's waist pulling him close, smiling into his curls at the memory. It had taken place two years ago now and of course, Remus had been right. Sirius couldn’t imagine living anywhere else now. A crunching sound interrupted his thoughts. He shook his head, but didn’t comment on his boyfriend’s breakfast, a leftover toffee apple, knowing from previous experiences that it would only encourage him to make worse choices.
The conversation in his memory had been the reason that he’d first thrown his annual Halloween bonanza, a tradition (if something that had only been done twice could be called a tradition) that was quickly becoming infamous. It was a family affair with all the team bringing their loved ones to enjoy what was quite frankly, an outrageous display of wealth. Each year, Remus and he turned their back garden into a fete with, pumpkin carving, a hay maze, apple bobbing, spooky cupcake decorating and face painting to name but a few things. No expense was spared. But it wasn’t about the money really.
A soft kiss to his jawline pulled him out of his thoughts again. Remus sighed contentedly and leaned into his chest, body warmth radiating between them. Sirius glanced down at the shorter man, giving him a reassuring smile. Remus could always tell when he was in his own head.
“Just thinking about last night,” Sirius hummed, his eyes flickering to the giant corkboard on the wall. It was currently monopolized by the polaroids that had been taken the previous evening. The collection showcased exactly what the party was all about.
It was the photo of Logan, his teeth clenched around an apple, sticky liquid dripping down his chin and eyes glimmering with competition. Next to it, the photo of Katie Dumais hugging a huge, black stuffed dog, almost the same size as her.
“Logan won me a new stuffie!” she had beamed as the photo was taken. Logan, much to Katie’s distain, ruffled her hair and told her, “N’importe quoi pour vous.” Anything for you.
It was the image of a frantic James declaring, “I have lost my child!” Olli and Timmy laughing in the background because they could see a tiny Harry dressed as a pumpkin toddling around behind his father.
It was the one of Talker, for once sitting still, albeit in a chair designed for small children, his eyes closed but his mouth moving. Across from him, Noelle’s expression was fondly exasperated as she tried to finish painting his face. Another photo evidenced that she had been successful; there were two matching skeletons (Thomas and little Xavi) with faces warped by laughter.
It was the collection of photos towards the top of the corkboard. Reg and Leo. Reg and Celeste. Reg and Jules. And his personal favourite, Reg and Remus.
“I love this one,” Sirius said aloud, his fingers reaching out to brush the picture he was referring to. Even now it still baffled him to see his brother interacting with his boyfriend so casually. At this point the two men had their own relationship outside of Sirius, founded on nerdy things that he failed to understand. His heart swelled as he took in the image of the two most important people in his life.
“It’s a great photo,” Remus agreed. He and Regulus had their heads close together, hands waving as they enthusiastically discussed something. Remus had a smug expression on his face, Reg looked disgruntled. The photo captured their personalities fantastically. “I think this is my favourite,” Remus added, pointing out a different polaroid.
This one was taken inside. An entanglement of blankets and sleeping children. Smitty’s youngest, Noah, had started it. He’d crashed around 9pm after an almighty sugar rush, and his father had laid him down in the quiet of the lounge to sleep. Katya Ivanov and Katie Dumais followed soon after. Harry had put up a valiant effort not to join them. In fact, there was a photo a little to the left of Sirius rocking his godson who was fighting his drooping eyelids. Never the less, he ended up in the pile too.
“One day, we will have one of our own to add to that pile,” Remus smiled, giving Sirius a squeeze.
“One day,” Sirius agreed, wiping a thumb across Remus's lips to remove a trace of toffee. "We better go and wake those two up. Marcie will be here soon – she won’t want to clean around them,” Sirius declared, his head inclining towards the lounge. Remus chuckled in response, spinning in Sirius’s arms and taking his hand to lead him to the other room. Sirius allowed himself to be led, picking up the camera from the counter as he passed.
The camera flashed and pushed out a photo with a click. Sirius grinned, shaking the small square whilst it developed. Slowly it revealed two men curled into one another, the taller of the them had his arms wrapped around the smaller. They looked peaceful. Remus tried to wake them up gently, but apparently the small shake to Kuny’s shoulder was enough to startle the pair. A string of Russian – almost certainly profanities – left Kuny’s mouth as he pulled himself away from Nado. Sirius noted the blush that spread over Kuny’s cheeks as he realised how entwined they had been. 
“Right boys. I hate to kick you out but my housekeeper will be here soon and she does not need to be subjected to your hungover asses,” Sirius said, although he didn’t sound regretful at all.
Nado grumbled, showing Sirius his middle finger and sweeping his hair back of his face. “Come on Koon, I’ll drop you home.”
Leaving Remus to deal with their two unexpected guests, Sirius wandered back into his kitchen to pin the photo he had just taken with the rest. There wasn’t a lot of room left, but he managed to squeeze it between a photo of Natalie and Kasey holding their carved pumpkins, and a particularly sweet one of the cubs. Finn’s lips were pressed against Leo’s nose, red from the cold. Logan cocooned between them, resting his head on Finn’s chest. Sirius couldn’t help but smile as he realized that none of them were wearing the same sweaters they had arrived in, seemingly having swapped them over the course of the evening.
Remus came back soon enough, shaking his head and huffing out a laugh. Sirius didn't want to know. “They'll be gone soon. We should pick up. Marcie isn't paid enough to deal with…this" Remus said, gesturing towards the chaos of the kitchen. Sirius looked around, a grimace forming on his face before he nodded his agreement. The floor was littered with costume parts, either lost or removed as games were played and alcohol was drunk – devil horns here and iron man’s mask there. There was a stain on the rug where a bowl of perfectly spiced pumpkin soup had been spilt. Toilet paper had managed to make its way into the craziest of places, casualties of the mummy competition. Popcorn crunched under his feet – the impromptu viewing of ‘The Nightmare Before Christmas’ had happened two rooms over - how popcorn had ended up in the kitchen, Sirius did not know.
Despite it all, Sirius would do it all again tomorrow. Growing up, Halloween had been characterized by loneliness and jealousy. His overly religious parents had declared the holiday heinous and banned even mentions of the event. In the supermarket, they snatched offered candy out of his hand and Sirius had listened on wistfully as the other children spoke about their hauls. The memories made him a little sad, but it was okay now, Sirius had reclaimed it  – Halloween was his again.
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waywardodysseys · 4 years
Text
Eight Days of Christmas - Day 2
Winter Wonderland
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Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x female reader
Warnings: cussing, fluff
Summary: Your third Christmas with Ransom Drysdale.
Day 1
(divider by @firefly-graphics)
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Ransom taps the steering wheel. He hates driving during the holiday season. The roads are packed with crazy drivers who disobey traffic signs and flip one another off if they don’t get their way. Blaring horns drown out the Christmas music coming from the radio as Ransom slams on his breaks, “Oh fuckin’ come on! GODdamn it!” He’s about to lose his mind as he waits patiently, tries to at least. Ransom sighs as snow begins to fall from the overcast clouds above. It’s not going to help with the traffic, but it would definitely add to the wow factor for tonight.
He and Y/N have plans to drive over to Somerville and take in the Illuminations Tours the town holds annually. Another tradition they had started three Christmases ago when they spent the holidays together for the first time. Ransom recalls they had started a few traditions that year - picking out and decorating the tree then making love, shopping at Faneuil Hall, baking sweet treats, ice skating and sledding, spending Christmas Eve with her family, spending Christmas Day with his, and of course, seeing Christmas lights. 
Minutes later as night moves in and he’s finally out of the traffic, Ransom heads towards his, no, their house. He had gifted Y/N with a key last Christmas, making their living together arrangements official. He parks the Beamer and keeps the engine running as he jogs to the front door, which swings open, revealing you in a couple of layers of clothing. He smiles, knowing you’ve been waiting for him to arrive. “Ready to begin the evening?”
You smile, “Yes!”
Ransom checks to make sure the door is locked then escorts you to the running car. “Good.” He helps you in then walks over to the driver’s side and climbs in. “I’m ready too.”
“So, you have been eagerly awaiting tonight?” you question as he begins driving. You hear soft Christmas music playing. “And you're listening to Christmas music? Oh my!” You chuckle as Ransom glances at you.
“What can I say? I have someone in my life who’s shown me what Christmas means. And how to take it all in, instead of pushing it all aside and avoiding it.” Ransom grins, “And yes, I have been waiting for tonight.” He motions a hand towards the windshield, “And it is snowing. Bonus to make it beautiful this year.”
You can't believe your ears. When it came to Christmas, Ransom was still hesitant about a few things, yet he was slowly opening himself up to the magic of the season when it came around. You already knew you had opened the door marked Christmas and showed him plenty of things over the course of spending two Christmases together; this year would mark the third one. He was becoming less and less of a Grinch as the years passed on. “Soon enough I won't be able to call you Grinch.”
Ransom chuckles, “I’ll always be your Grinch.” He takes your hand and kisses the back of it. “And your Saint Nick because I always give you what you want.” 
His deep, lust-filled voice heats your already warm body. Imagining him in a Santa suit and sitting in his lap is sending pleasure waves through you. “One day I’ll get you to wear a Santa suit, and you won't be able to tell me no.”
“As long as you know you’ll be the only one seeing me in it,” Ransom states as he parks the Beamer. “Then...maybe I’ll wear one.” He grins when he hears your soft laugh as the two of you climb out of the car. He’s by your side instantly and grabs your hand as the two of you begin walking towards the town square and Main Street.
You burrow into him and rest your head against his shoulder. “Finished with your Christmas shopping?”
When the two of you walk into the square, children are running about, some of them throwing snowballs, others building snowmen and making snow angels. The snow had been falling steadily for an hour, enough to coat the earth with a few inches. Carolers singing traditional and modern Christmas songs fill the air, along with the smell of fresh-baked cookies and hot chocolate. Main Street isn’t quite packed yet for a Friday evening, but it soon will be.
Ransom’s eyes take in the scene before him. He then squeezes your hand. “I already know what I’m getting you for Christmas,” he finally responds. “And everyone else.”
“What? Ransom Drysdale is finished Christmas shopping?” You give a laugh then continue, “We’ve already been to Quincy Market this year. Which come to think of it, you didn’t seem panicked, unlike the last two years when we went.”
Ransom shrugs, “What can I say? I was actually prepared this time.”
You stop and pull him towards you. You run your fingers over the bold patterned silk scarf with an array of colors you gave him last Christmas, which he wears nonstop. You loop your arms around his neck as you feel his arms snake around your body. You soak in this moment, never wanting to let go, never wanting to let him go. 
“Have I rendered you speechless, sweetheart?”
You nod in response before Ransom places his mouth against yours. He kisses you gently then deepens the kiss as he moves one hand down and pulls you further up against him. A few slow seconds tick by before he pulls faintly back and looks at you. His blue eyes are smiling along with his lips. “I love you, Y/N.”
Your heart swells with emotion. “I love you, Ransom.” You sweep your mouth against his once more, not paying attention to a few of the onlookers who are seeing the public display of affection. 
“So romantic,” an elderly woman remarks as she walks by with her husband.
Your cheeks feel hot as you faintly pull away from Ransom. He chuckles lightly as you burrow into the front of him, “Let’s enjoy this winter wonderland so I can get you home.”
You contently sigh, signaling you agree with him. He grabs your hand so the both of you can begin to walk along Main Street, taking in the businesses decked out with Christmas window displays. Soon you turn down a residential street, officially deemed “Candy Cane Lane”. No cars are allowed down the street, allowing people to wander from one side of the street to the other freely. 
The residential street is lined with houses decorated to the brim with Christmas decorations and lights. Some people are taking pictures to remember the night, while you and Ransom soak everything in as you stop and pause to look at each one. Plenty of people are oohing and awing at the countless Christmas decorations adorning every single house. The luminous, twinkling lights are intoxicating and inviting. Every color imaginable is on display for all to see.
A few houses did scenes from movies like Christmas Vacation, Polar Express, and A Charlie Brown Christmas. A couple of houses had inflatables along with their decorations. One house showed the Nativity Scene in all its glory. Another house had its lights in sync with a couple of Christmas songs, which filled the street with not only crunching snow but laughter as people watched it in delight. 
Every house is glorious like the last. Somerville Illuminations Tour never disappointed, especially when nearly the entire town partook in the event. The town was probably a beacon of light to aircraft flying nearby, or even the International Space Station flying high above the Earth. 
You and Ransom enjoy hot cocoa and warm gingerbread cookies when you return to the town square, taking in the carolers as they sing their melodies of Christmas tunes. More people are making their way through the Christmas light display along with some listening to the carolers sing too. Everyone is having a jolly time enjoying themselves with their loved ones. 
Once you two are finished with your sweet treats, you burrow into one another for warmth and head back to his Beamer then onward to home. Thoughts swirl through your mind, glad you are spending another holiday season with Ransom Drysdale and knowing soon enough Christmas might just turn out to be his favorite holiday.
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misiwrites · 3 years
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Beyblade Week Day 1
joining @beybladeweek2021 late but i’ll probably be doing these belatedly all may so, whatever! it is what it is.
i’ve never participated in a fandom challenge with writing before, but i was feeling adventurous this time and the seasonal themes were just perfect for the 4kingdoms AU-verse (which is this), i haven’t been writing much anything in so long that i’m mega rusty and thought i could use the bey week to do some warm-up oneshots. these aren’t going to be particularly interesting because i’m really bad at doing oneshots actually, but i like the idea myself and. that’s the only thing that really matters. right. (i’m not even sure if AUs are allowed for the beyblade week?? but the rules didn’t say anything about it so /shrug)
the day 1 oneshot is a little story from takao’s childhood about how he first met kyouju. this was inspired by my own childhood memories as the youngest sibling when i just wanted to hang out around my big sisters because i thought everything they were doing was Cool Big Sister Stuff.
~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~
Firsts / Childhood / Spring
”Takao! I’m trying to read this! Leave me alone already, will you?”
A groan of disappointment. Reluctantly, Takao backs away from his older brother by the desk, shooting him a frown of judgment and betrayal. Now, a quick change of tactics: he figures that, just maybe, Hitoshi allows him to stay in the room if he zips his lips to his best ability.
Wrong. Two silent minutes pass in the small study room until Hitoshi bellows at his brother again, swinging an arm in the door’s direction.
“I’m serious, you can’t keep doing this when I’m trying to do my homework!”
“I’ll just watch and keep quiet, I promise,” Takao insists, giving his brother his best puppy eyes.
“I can’t focus if you’re standing there! Now get out!”
Takao’s frown deepens; with heavy feet and a heavy heart, he trudges toward the sliding door. He doesn’t like this recent change in his brother, all this emphasis on what Hitoshi refers to as “important stuff”. Just because he’s now seventeen. Acting all high and mighty, pretending to be so adult and so important, too adult and too important to play with his younger sibling.
“It’s a very important time for your brother,” their grandfather responded to Takao’s fraternal laments once. “In one year, he will officially inherit the crown of the Seiryuu-ou. There’s much for him to do to grow into the role of the king before his coronation.”
Important this, important that. What about having fun, wasn’t fun important at all? And fencing – surely instructing Takao with the basics of fencing has to be important? Hitoshi’s fencing skills are second to only their grandfather’s, and Takao cannot imagine – doesn’t want to imagine – anyone else teaching him the art of the bamboo sword. And now Hitoshi is “too busy” to teach him, all of a sudden.
“But I’m boooored,” Takao whines from the doors, balancing his weight on his heels back and forth.
“How about you go study something too for once? You really should be reading a lot more than you do, you know. I don’t want my little brother to end up being a dumb prince who doesn’t know anything about the way the world works.”
Takao’s nose wrinkles in disapproval. The word “study” smells like old paper and dust and boredom.
“It’s the Sowmoon holiday now! And what the hell would I study?” he barks.
“Don’t cuss. Anything – whatever interests you. How about the history of the city?”
“Bahhhh.”
“The history of fencing, then. I don’t know – go to the library, take a look at the books or whatever, just leave me alone. I don’t have time for this.” Hitoshi lifts the yellowish document in front of his face and disappears behind it. A wall has risen between the two brothers.
* * * * * *
In the country of spring and year-round greenery, it’s difficult to stay sullen under the tranquil blue of the Eastern sky. Moments later Takao is skipping down the road that leads to the town of Tsuno below, his child’s heart already ignited with new-found hope and aspiration, his feelings of frustration shed by the sturdy wooden gates of the Cherrywood Castle and he's moving on, literally.
At first, the idea was dull at best; reading sounds like just about the flattest thing he could be doing on this beautiful Sowmoon day, a warm breeze blowing through his indigo hair as he carefully hops from one cobblestone to the other… but, in the end, it’s the wish to please his brother that has won him over. Now a plan is taking shape in his mind, the idea swelling like a balloon by each step he takes down the road, and soon his head is racing with the ambition of studying as many topics as he can think of; he’s dreaming up scenarios of impressing his brother with all his newly acquired knowledge, his brain buzzing and his proud heart thumping with all the imaginary praise from Hitoshi… and, just maybe, he’ll then agree to do something fun with his cool and smart little brother again.
So caught up in his daydreams, Takao hardly pays attention to all the familiar townspeople greeting him as he passes by their wooden dwellings and shops and stalls, and he prances past several flocks of tourists lingering on the streets of Tsuno, too busy taking pictures of the cherry blossom trees in their rare blue Sowmoon bloom to notice the royal prince walking right past them. Even if they did see him, not many would pay attention to him; people from outside the city would never imagine a member of the royal Seiryuu-ou family strolling around in a simple hakama without making a scene; but in the royal capital of the Country of East, this was a mundane everyday sight, and Takao was a regular guest of the pastry stalls on the main street of Tsuno. The townspeople loved to pamper this bold and friendly little prince, who hadn’t yet been spoiled by the privileges of the royalty.
Takao reaches the tall glass doors of the main library, only to face the reality of the numbers painted on the glass panel. Five minutes to closing time. So caught up in the rollercoaster of his imagination as he left the Cherrywood Castle, checking the opening hours of the library didn’t even pass his mind.
“Oh, hello, Your Highness,” he’s greeted by one of the kimono-clad library workers who spots him. (The surprise is evident; Takao is not a usual guest in the library.) “How wonderful to see you here. Are you looking for something?”
“Well, yeah, for something to read… but it looks like you’re about to close.”
But coincidence is on Takao’s side today, for the clerk tells him that the library is staying open for one extra hour every day this week.
“The reading hall has been reserved by Professor, a local researcher – but I’m positive he won’t be disturbed by Your Highness’s presence.”
“Really? Okay.” Relieved and triumphant, Takao enters the old-fashioned yet admittedly curiosity-inducing depths of the city library.
He quickly comes to the conclusion that he has underestimated the number of books in the world. Expecting there to be one of each subject of his admittedly limited academic imagination, he is instead hit by an entire universe of paper and ink and covers and words. The map of the library layout alone is full of complex characters that Takao hasn’t yet come across in his schooling.
Dammit.
In the end, Takao finds himself pacing back and forth a narrow aisle of local history books, looking for one with a cover that sparks interest. Perhaps he cannot read all the text, but at least he can look at the pictures.
That’s when he notices another person sharing the space with him, at the far end of the hall, where the shelves have been moved to hug the walls to make room for a reading area in the middle and the ceiling seems to climb up impossibly high under the arch of a dome roof. This person is another kid, hardly older than Takao, and he’s not paying the prince any attention in return; the boy is glued to the screen of a laptop computer that sits on a table in front of him along with several books, one of which has been spread open. Every now and then, his fingers dance across the keyboard at a speed that Takao didn’t even know a computer keyboard could be used with; then the boy crouches over to take a quick glance at the open book before turning back to the laptop again.
A curious sight. For a moment, Takao is tempted by the allure of calling out to this strange boy, to ask him why he’s still there after closing hours. He decides against it and swallows his curiosity. If there’s one thing that his older brother has recently taught him, it is to mind his own business and not bother other people hard at work.
* * * * * *
The next day Takao returns to the library, a pile of books in his lap that he leafed through all night last night. Hundreds of pages of buildings so old they probably stayed up in the pictures with willpower alone – so old that Takao half-expected them to crumble and disappear by the turn of a page, leaving empty picture frame squares behind.
He came to the conclusion that Tsuno’s history was perhaps not the subject to start from.
Takao returns the books, decides to try and find something about fencing, a subject he’s already in some way familiar with. (Between the important-looking books, he secretly slips in a story about Southern pirates; this one he’s not going to tell Hitoshi about.)
In the hall with the dome ceiling, the kid with the laptop is by the exact same table again. Only the array of books next to him is a little different… maybe. Takao is nearly seized by his curiosity again, but something about the air around this boy holds the lingering scent of “do not disturb”, so he bites his tongue once more.
* * * * * *
How could even books about fencing slap him in the face with all this wall of text?! The following day Takao once again turns up at the library, to return his previous findings that had only briefly managed to capture his interest with images of old fencing gear that were not only ancient but, as he ultimately decided, very ugly and stupid-looking.
What about archery, the other national sport of the East? Takao finds it boring and repetitive compared to fencing, but since books about fencing turned out to be boring, did it mean that books about the boring sport were, in turn, more interesting? It makes perfect sense, in Takao’s eight-year-old mind.
However, as he makes his way to the library at the cusp of closing hours again, he no longer pays much heed to the books. Instead, his feet take him to the reading hall under the dome right away.
Sure enough, the kid with the big round glasses and a laptop in front of him is there in his usual spot, all alone. And again the boy’s fingers are hammering at the keyboard faster than Takao can form a coherent thought about computers, the strange machinery that originates from the technically advanced Country of West for all he knows.
It’s been three days now, and Takao can no longer hold back his burning curiosity. Eyes on the strange boy, he takes small sideway steps between the bookshelves, inching his way closer and closer, until he reaches the open reading area under the arched skylights above.
“Hey,” Takao says as he enters the boy’s proximity by the table.
The boy doesn’t do as much as raise his eyes from the computer screen.
“Is there something I can do for you?” he asks, still typing away. The tone of his high-pitched voice is just slightly aggravated but his choice of words oozes formality, a strange speech pattern for someone his age. It throws Takao off a little.
“Umm, I’ve seen you here every day this week and was wondering what you’re doing, that’s all. You know the library was already closed, right?”
After saying this, the thought then passes Takao’s mind that perhaps this kid never leaves the library. Perhaps he’s not even aware that he’s in a closed library. What if Takao is talking to a ghost, haunting this remote corner of the library all day and night? Or, maybe, he’s nothing but a product of Takao’s imagination?
The boy’s voice is now so blunt in response that these phantasmagoric thoughts immediately vanish from Takao’s mind.
“Yes, of course I know. The library personnel was very kind to allow me this one working hour without other people disturbing me. So really, I should be asking – what are you doing here?” Now the stranger’s hands finally leave the keyboard and he lifts his eyes to Takao.
A moment of confused silence. Then the boy’s face begins to resemble the colour of a strawberry.
“Oh!” he squeaks and jumps up to his feet, only to bow his head toward the floor. “Oh, Your, uh, Your Highness! I am terribly sorry for being so rude! Oh, goodness me, how could I…!”
“Wow, calm down,” Takao interrupts, startled himself by the suddenness of the boy’s reaction. “And raise your head – I don’t like people bowing at me, it makes me feel weird. More importantly, what you said just now – are you saying you booked this extra hour from the library?”
Hesitantly, the boy straightens his back, which doesn’t increase his height significantly; now that they’re standing next to each other, Takao notices how small the person he’s talking to is, his head barely on level with Takao’s shoulders.
“Yes, Your Highness,” he says. “I wasn’t aware I was sharing it with the royal family, though. How thoughtless of me.”
“No, well, I kinda just walked in on my own, to be fair. So… you’re a researcher?”
“You could say so, I am indeed carrying out some research here. My name is Saien Manabu, but everyone calls me Professor.”
“Oh, wow. What exactly are you researching?”
“Right now I am writing a paper on the goddess cult of the Country of North. I know, it’s not exactly a topic that interests most children, but I find it so terribly fascinating…”
The mention of children – a nod to the fact that this boy, too, is a child just like him – makes Takao immediately feel more at ease. This person, albeit strange and overly formal and clearly too smart for his age, really is just a child after all. This notion alone is enough to make the kind-hearted and fairly simple-minded Takao like this boy more.
“Sure, that sounds cool,” he says with a grin. “Hey – you said you’re Saien, right? Like that ramen shop on the main street?”
“Yes, it is owned by my parents.”
“Well, it’d be real interesting to hear more about your research and all, but I’m kinda hungry, to be honest – the Saien noodles sound awesome just about now. How about we go there and then you tell me more?”
“Hmm. Well, I wasn’t making as much progress today as I wanted, in any case.” The boy, visibly at least a little relieved to get a break from staring at the screen, slams his laptop shut and tucks it under his arm. Then he flashes a friendly smile at Takao. “Very well, Your Highness. But my mother may pass out if I bring a member of the royal family to their shop all of a sudden, so please prepare for that.”
“Bah, just call me Takao, I’m not so into that formal stuff.”
“Alright, and you can call me Professor.”
* * * * * *
Once back in the Cherrywood Castle, Takao told both his brother and grandfather how much he’d learned about the Northern goddess Hiromi of time and space already; and from that day onward, Hitoshi never needed to refer to his younger brother as the dumb prince again, as Takao, who became a frequent visitor of the Saien family ramen shop both inside and outside business hours, never ran out of curious stories to share about all the things he learned from his new friend.
And while the royal Seiryuu-ou family wasn’t to stay together for much longer from the moment of this story, Takao and Professor remained best friends for many years to come.
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qawsslate · 3 years
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newbies
another nct drabble, short story, one shot, scenario? 
genre: fluff probs
tw: none
pairing: Renjun & reader
a/n: idk bro read at ur own risk, i used google translate for a thing but im hoping it makes sense in the context, feel free to interact :)) 
____
"Renjun-ah it’s fine. You, of all people, know how forgiving she is.”
“Ya! Haechan, don’t say it like that. Renjun-ah it looks really nice she’ll love it.”
Haechan and Jeno were gathered in Renjun and Jisung’s shared bedroom attempting to calm the nerves of the older Dream member. He had just finished a painting he had been working on for the last month in prepation for Valentine’s Day. He knew you weren’t expecting anything as in Korea, the traditional practice was for the girl in the relationship to give the guy chocolates, but neither of you were big on the specifics of things like that. You both shared the sentiment of holidays but were also practical in the ways you gave gifts to each other. Last Christmas, Renjun had given you a new winter coat since the one you’ve been using since your teenager years had begun to literally tear at the seam. You often brushed off his nagging of buying a new coat with protests of the coat still doing its job. 
“Renjun, the coat is fine. I’m still perfectly warm” 
“Y/n, I can see the thread that’s keeping the arm sleeve attached to the rest of it hanging off. I bet if I pull it the whole thing would fall apart. Here let me show you.” 
He reached down and pretended to yank the thread which prompted you to gasp in amused disbelief.
“Ya! Don’t you dare! Did you really pull it off?”
You looked down at your arm trying to assess if in fact the fabric on your body was still a piece of wearable clothing.  
He laughed and just embraced you in a hug.
He had followed up the new winter coat with a flower plushie you had commented that was cute a week ago in a shop, his favorite scented candle so you could be reminded of him when he was away on a schedule, a neck massager because he thought you spent too much time at your desk, an insulated bottle so you would drink more water and not coffee, a polaroid camera for the memories and random Chinese snacks you really liked. He was very practical yet considerate, and it made your heart swell. You almost cried thinking all of it was too much and he had to hold your face in is hands and make you look at him so he could tell you that you were worth it. 
What you didn’t know that he also wanted to gift you with a necklace but second guessed himself too much to the point where he took the small box out of the pile of gifts only minutes before he gave you the heap of presents. Mark was the only member he told about the necklace beforehand but Renjun unfortunately had forgotten to inform his loveable hyung of his inaction, a problem that presented itself the morning after Christmas.
“Y/n! Merry-day-after-Christmas! How was Christmas with Renjunnie? Did you like the necklace?”
You, Mark, and Renjun had been sitting at the Dream dorm kitchen table eating leftovers from the small dinner Jaemin had made at 3am. Thankfully the rest of the boys were still asleep so the damage could still be contained. Renjun choked on the green tea he had been drinking but quickly recoverd.
“Neck massager hyung. The Korean word for neck massager is 목 마사지기. Ahhh, it’s because he’s a foreigner.”
Renjun laughed a little too forcibly and tried to signal to Mark as much as humanly possible without bursting a vein that the necklace gift was aborted. By some Christmas miracle, Mark had somehow picked up on the hint and quickly corrected himself. He even added a white lie to support the neck massager fib, quickly sputtering that he had helped Renjun pick out a neck massager with the recommnedations from his mom, his aunt, his grandmother, and his cousin who was some sort of professional massager. You answered honestly that you had yet to put it to use as you forgot to charge it last night. You weren’t sure if it was the happiness hangover or lack of sleep after Christmas Day that made you think Mark and Renjun were acting strange, but you became distracted from dwelling on their behavior as Haechan and Jisung came into the kitchen. The mood quickly shifted and Renjun felt like he could breathe for the first time in what felt like an hour. You had become preoccupied in helping Jisung follow a recipe on how to make American style pancakes and scolding Haechan for handing the gullible maknae wrong ingredients. After a few minutes Renjun had excused himself to check on Jaemin and Jeno, and Mark announced he had to use the bathroom. Once out of earshot from the mess in the kitchen Mark turned to Renjun,
“You didn’t give it to her?”
“No, hyung, honestly I got too scared. What if she didn’t want it? What if she thinks I’m going too far? What if it’s too serious all of a sudden?”
“Well, don’t you want to be serious with y/n?”
“Of course. More than anything. I just don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Renjunnie,” Mark placed his hands on his shoulders, “you are doing great. Do whatever feels right to you. But if you’re only doubting yourself I think it’s still a good idea to give her the necklace.” 
Renjun still looked conflicted and mindlessly opened the door to Jaemin room then Jeno’s. 
The four proceeded back to the suspiciously quiet kitchen to find Jisung sat at the table and Haechan and you making the rest of the pancakes. When Jaemin asked what happened, Haechan responded,
“We wanted to make sure you guys still had a place to live.”
The necklace matter had been dropped and about a month later all those repressed emotions Renjun had came back. It was two nights before Valentine’s Day and both just wanted a quiet evening. Renjun planned to cook a dinner at your apartment and the whole thing felt innocent until he thought about how you guys hadn’t even been officially together for more than a year. He suddenly felt the pressure, the implications, the underlying tone of something like giving you a piece of jewelry. His plan was to just give you a painting. He had carefully recreated the scene of the park where he first saw you. You had been pushing children on the swings. He had thought you were a babysitter of some sort until you waved to the kids goodbye and saw the nearby adults scoop them in their arms and walk away. Then he saw you swinging by yourself. He never revealed this to you during your first official encounter as he didn’t think it would be smooth to open up with, “I’ve been watching you swing by yourself at the children’s park.” He also hadn’t been initially sure if you were the same girl he had wistfully observed, but you had once planned a park date at your favorite spot.
“It’s actually quite near your dorm, we could walk there if you’re up to it? Sometimes I play with the kids. It’s gotten to the point where some of the mothers have recognized me.”
Renjun immediately knew you had been that girl he had observed in what felt like a lifetime ago. He knew that one day he would really have to treat Chenle to a meal for introducing you both. Renjun also knew if he had admitted this to Chenle now he would never let it go and it would somehow inflate the size of that kid’s head even more, but he added it to the list of things he loved about his younger member. 
Renjun had carefully recreated the details from his memories of those days, paying particular attention to that coat you refused to give up on and he had just finished the painting when Haechan decided to burst into his room.
“Renjunnie! Have you ate? Let’s eat.” 
Renjun had been so absorbed with his doubts that the sudden interruption almost made him fall off his chair. Renjun almost gets as easily startled as Jisung, but the magnitude of his reaction made Haechan take a step back and immediately set off his signature mischief.
“Ya, is the innocent and pure boy doing something naughty? You know you should really lock your doors Renjun-ah”
Renjun scrammbled to find something to cover the painting. His tidy desk space provided no aid and his next move was to flip the whole thing over deciding to deal with the consquences of the still wet paint later, but Haechan moved quickly and pulled Renjun’s arms up away from the canvas.
“Ya, what’s this?”
“Nothing. Heachan, please.”
Renjun sighed. He had no problem in any other situation to fight the boy who always tested his limits, but with the awkward sitting position he was in, Renjun knew that there was no logistically sound way to physically fight Haechan at the moment. 
“Oh, it’s just another painting. Why were you so freaked out- YA! Is that y/n?!”
Haechan dropped Renjun’s arms, his first mistake, as Renjun took the opportunity to lunge towards the painting. Haechan proceeded to yank the back of the wooden chair -- his second mistake -- and he called out for reinforcements.
“JENO-AH!”
Jeno was not surprised that the bickering quickly took place, but was also concerned with the intensity of Haechan’s scream. Jeno regretfully entered the space of what would ultimately disrupt the otherwise peaceful morning and listened to the chorus of Renjun’s mild curses and death threats and Haechan’s shameless happy teasing although he was the one in the headlock.
“Ya, you two. Can we just go eat?”
“Jeno-ah, grab that. QUICKLY.”
Curiosity took over and Jeno obeyed. Renjun knew that although Jeno lacked in the desire of fighting members, he made up for with his physcial strengh. Renjun was quite aware that Jeno could quite literally pick him and Haechan up to stop the sqaubble. Renjun gave a frustrated sigh of defeat and sat back down at his desk while Jeno and Haechan sat on the nearby bed to fully observe the art piece.
“Is this y/n? It’s really good.”
“Our Renjunnie is growing up so fast. It’s cute to see you in love.”
The casualness of Haechan’s sentiment in dropping the L word set off alarms in Renjun’s brain but curiously not his heart. He quickly pushed off whatever deer in headlights reaction he showed and calmy took the painting back from Jeno. He decided to just tell the two that it was for Valentine’s Day and mumbled that he wasn’t sure if you were gonna like it. 
"Renjun-ah it’s fine. You, of all people, know how forgiving she is.”
“Ya! Haechan, don’t say it like that. Renjun-ah it looks really nice she’ll love it.”
Haechan sensed it was the right time to get serious. 
“Renjun-ah. Honestly. It’s a really good painting. She’ll love it. That girl loves everything you do.”
Jeno hummed in agreement.
“Injunnie, it will be okayyy.”
Jeno’s speciality in dorm-only aegyo gave Renjun comfort. It almost brought back a sense of normalcy in Renjun’s emotions. He was also grateful to Haechan although no matter how much the boy made it a sport to annoy him, he could still be mature when it counted. He thanked God that the necklace had been safely hidden in a drawer and considered the many ways the situation could have escalated if the two boys saw that the painting gift was not the main source of his anxiety.
Renjun thought it would be best to change the subject from his insecurities about his love life. Love, he thought, there was that word again. 
---------------
hi i have a tendency to not end my fics well, lemme know what yall think
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