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doobea · 4 months

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YOU'RE A MEAN ONE, MISTER GOJO ─ SATORU G.

synopsis: satoru gojo is spoiled and arrogant. he's also the next in line to inherit his family's fortune. his father sends him far away in a small town for a week in hopes that he'll 'change' for the better. instead of the usual five-starred hilton hotels, he stays at a local inn and starts to befriend the owner's daughter.

tropes: small town romance, christmas au, golden retriever x black cat

MILESTONE EVENT || MILESTONE MASTERLIST

contents: fem!reader, spoiled rich boy!gojo, acts like an ass to everyone but hopelessly falls in love with you at first sight, feels like a really bad hallmark movie, mentions of wealth class differences, reader isn't a tsundere - she's just indifferent for the most part and introverted word count: 7.5K (idk i will uh make the fics shorter in the future) a/n: thank you anon for requesting this!! idk if this is what you wanted but hopefully you like it!! :3 everyone also give a round of applause to @popponn for beta reading this big mess LMAO

Satoru Gojo has a lot of expectations, but this certainly isn’t one of them.

He isn’t particularly excited about spending a week away from his big city penthouse to be rotting in a small town motel in the middle of nowhere but, his father, CEO of Gojo Corporations, heavily insisted that he ‘needs this’ and that ‘it’ll be good for the company’ — whatever that means. Satoru is confident that his father thinks he’s incapable of running the family business after last month’s run with the paparazzi and his third fling of the month. It wasn’t his fault that they got caught doing drugs at one of Zenin's parties, everyone else was doing the same thing, it just so happened that the cameras were only focusing on him.

Well, that’s what he gets for signing up to be the son of one of the richest men on Earth.

“You need to start taking this seriously,” he recalls his father slamming his fist down at the desk before throwing a bottle of Henessy at the wall. “I don’t want this company to go bankrupt just because I have a son who only thinks with his dick.”

Ouch… but he’s not wrong about that.

So now Satoru finds himself driving up a winding road somewhere very deep in the mountains. Exactly five hours away from the city. And, for the past three hours, all he’s been seeing are miles and miles of pine trees, sheets of snow, and — he had recently learned this from Suguru — sugar shacks. Apparently when you’re out over a hundred miles into wilderness territory these sap houses are littered everywhere. The fact that Satoru is beginning to count more shacks than designer cars on the road is really starting to get to him.

“This whole thing is so fucking stupid,” Satoru has also been talking to himself throughout the journey in order to not lose his mind. “He could’ve just sent me door to door caroling instead of whatever this is.” Satoru doesn’t know how to sing well, but he does know all the lyrics to ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’ and that usually gets him all the tips. He wonders if he can manage to make a small side hustle when he starts wasting his week here.

He takes a sharp turn up around the hill before finally recognizing a big red sign with the name ‘Mistle Town’ as seen on the postcard his dad left him before leaving. It takes him another five minutes of driving through said small town, which is quite literally something out of one of those really bad holiday movies that his mom would force him to watch when he was little, before arriving at the inn. Upon arriving, Satoru is noticeably disappointed at the lack of valet assistance and, the size and design of the inn, is rather lackluster.

First, it just looks like a regular white farmhouse. Maybe having a max of ten rooms, none of them being penthouse sized, Satoru assumes. There are a couple of flowerbeds out front, all covered in a couple of inches of snow, and there’s subtle signs of holiday decor slowly bleeding its way outside. He sees someone dressed in an oversized puffer by the entrance, arms occupied with red tinsel and large white ornaments, and figures that the first nice thing he’ll do is to help out a random stranger — just to prove something to his dad.

Satoru parks his Rolls Royce in a spot furthest away from everyone else in the parking lot and sends a ‘im alive and well’ text to Suguru, because he’s very much so going to be in frequent contact with him for the remainder of the trip, before heading up.

“Need a hand?” He points out the obvious but still manages to throw a smile as if he’s already fixed the situation unfolding in front of him.

Satoru’s presence seems to pull you from your busy trance. You wiped your body around, nearly smacking the damn tinsel in his face, and made a small surprised noise.

“I’ve got it,” you muffle out and he looks entirely unconvinced but, whatever, he tried anyway.

Satoru gives you a few encouraging pats on the back before heading inside, failing to realize his strength and causing you to lose your balance, making a few ornaments tumble to the ground. Thank god they’re all plastic though.

He pretends to not hear you yelling after him as he enters the double doors, immediately greeted by the scent of roasted coffee beans and leather. It’s the precious hour in the morning where nobody comes by, right after the cleaning staff had just finished vacuuming, when he struts in. He immediately spots someone vaguely familiar by the front desk. Long black hair, a red poofy bow tie in the back, and a distinctive scar across her face. The woman isn’t working alone, a man with another facial marking is next to her, brewing two cups of coffee by the espresso machine.

Satoru looks at the woman again and outwardly smiles. “What are you doing here?”

“Ugh,” Utahime’s composure immediately falters at the sound of his voice, not that it’s a big shock. “Helping the family business, what else?” she throws back with a certain sharpness to her tone, and waves off the casual talk. “Have you even mentally prepared yourself for what you’re getting into?”

Satoru simply shrugs and saunters over to a nearby seat by the counter. “Nah, honestly just planning to fuck around till I get back.”

Utahime flushes a little, though it’s mainly from frustration. “Satoru Gojo, you really are—”

“Utahime,” the man next to her speaks, handing her a cup of coffee, and slides Satoru a freshly brewed one, too. “I can explain the details to him, if you would like?”

The older female rubs the bridge of her nose and exhales a long, overdue sigh. “Please do, Choso.”

“Yeah,” Satoru leans into the counter, lips pointed down at this new face. “Please, do tell.”

“You’re basically our little Santa helper.” A new voice rings out from behind him. It spooks Satoru from his seat and he whips his head around to be met with your narrow eyes.

“Huh?”

“Also think of this as an unpaid internship.” You start laughing when he gags on his own saliva at your statement. “Okay, you don’t have to be so dramatic about it.”

Satoru swallows. “U-Unpaid…?”

Now it’s Utahime’s turn to speak, she huffs and tosses a couple of stockings into his arms. “Your father sent us a lengthy email a few days prior regarding your bratty behavior. So, of course, we came prepared.”

“Prepared…?” He feels the fabric in his hands and whines at the grainy texture. This is so not 100% real wool.

If Satoru thought he had any chance of actually taking over his father’s company, because he knows the difference between supply and demand, he’s wrong.

Customer service is not his forte. He’s always thrown emails and sponsorship paperwork at his many assistants, and Satoru doesn’t even know his own email log-in password. So, when you walked up to him first thing the next morning with a brown apron, the inn’s logo large and embroidered in the center, telling him how to function all these coffee machines that he’s seen behind hundreds of counters, it invoked some fear into his already wrecked nerves. Plus, no one dared to warn him about the clientele during a holiday rush.

“I want a venti peppermint frappe with two pumps of chocolate, three pumps of hazelnut, replace it with almond milk, one shot of espresso, and top it off with a drizzle of caramel on top.”

He slumps against the counter. “You sure you want all of that?”

“Can I please get a half dozen sfogliatella and a cannoli?

He starts picking at his cuticles and sneers. “Sorry, I don’t speak Italian.”

“My change is supposed to be five dollars, you only gave me three back?”

Satoru groans. “You’re trying to scam me, aren’t you?”

By the end of his four hour shift, Satoru feels like he’s just done more charity work than he’s ever done in his life — actually, maybe this could also be comparable to the time where he did the ribbon cutting ceremony at Chanel; gotta support small businesses, right?

“Gojo.” You’re seated across from him behind the counter, arms crossed and pursed lips.

He barely spares you a glance as he idly plays whatever shitty mobile game that’s number one on the app store. “Mhm? What is it?” He clearly knows you’re upset, your voice practically screams ‘I will end you’ in the most monotonous way possible. But can you blame him? Of all places, Satoru does not want to spend his winter break here.

You jerk your head to the side, fingers rhythmically tapping away on the counter, clearly unimpressed. “It hasn’t even been a full day and you’ve managed to piss off every single customer.”

Satoru expression shifts, brow creasing, and sighs, grabbing a handful of mint chocolate from the freebie candy jar by the register. “Don’t be dramatic,” he rolls his eyes and shoves three pieces in his mouth before jabbing a finger at a young man. “I didn’t piss him off!”

You glower, cheeks slightly puffed out. “That’s Yuuji and he’s practically a family friend and Choso’s little brother, so he doesn’t count,” you explain before adding, “Plus, he’s literally nice to everyone. You’re not special.”

And for a second, Satoru considered arguing that fact. Having been born into wealth, granted whatever wish he wanted, his butlers and maids are always on speed dial, that’s the lifestyle he’s used to. Placed on this tiny rock called Earth just to take over it one day, is what his father used to always say to him. But how can he, Satoru Gojo, take over when he’s stuck working a minimum — scratch that, unpaid — wage job as punishment?

Instead of fighting, Satoru slumps against the counter and pouts, like a little kid who just got their toy taken away. You and your sister Utahime have a clear advantage over him, by somehow being close, yet distant, friends to his family. Maybe karma is real.

“I’m putting you on ski lessons later.”

Satoru’s ears perk at this. “Oh, so I get some employee benefits, right?”

You roll your eyes, digging deep in your pockets to pull out a sheet with his name next to a list of others. “Wrong. You’re in charge of teaching five year olds how to ski.”

“Huh?”

Somehow that sounds even worse than being a barista. Kinda.

By the end of his first day of unemployment, Satoru tries to convince himself that a full change of scenery is nice. Well, he has to convince himself, otherwise he’s stuck dreading each coming day for the rest of the week.

“Tired yet, Gojo?”

You flop down on a spare armchair in his room, squishing his Canada Goose jacket underneath. He’s too tired to yell at you to get off and tumbles onto his bed, feet dangling off the edge, letting out a loud groan when his face immediately makes contact with the rough wooly blanket. Surprisingly to him, everything just feels so comfortable that the quality of the products doesn’t even cross his mind.

Sure, the air in the room is a bit musty, and he can feel his cheeks flaring up from the sudden change in temperature and the dull aching nag in his legs from demonstrating ski tricks to toddlers, but there’s an odd sense of fulfillment swelling in his chest just about now. He almost suggests taking over Choso’s lesson but, according to the hotel pamphlet, there’s going to be an ice fishing tournament tomorrow and he kinda wants to check that out, too.

“Exhausted,” he mumbles into the sheets, eyes squeezed shut. Satoru wiggles his body around for a few moments before slipping out of his snow boots and stares out the window, noticing flickering green and purple lights in the night sky. “Woah, are those…?”

He hears you laugh beside him. “Yeah, northern lights. We see them all the time during the winter.”

“Only seen them bitches in ‘Polar Express’.” Satoru finds himself saying whatever’s on his mind right now, his brain too whipped out to control his mouth. “You guys are lucky to see this every night.”

“I know you’re all pooped out from today but,” he feels the mattress dip by the edge and your fingers poking at his thighs. “Did you wanna head up to the balcony and watch them for a bit?” you say this experimentally, waiting for his reaction.

Satoru might be a stranger to most natural phenomenons, having to zone out all the time whenever he did go on family vacations to a fancy national park when he was younger. Though, during the short time of spending his time here, it makes him think about packing up and leaving behind the fast paced city life for a bit of natural beauty and brightness.

“Carry me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’re like a giant.”

He manages to gather some energy to sit up on his elbows. “You should at least have some form of hospitality to a family friend, you know?”

You eye him for a long moment, and then finally huff, breaking the contact to kick your feet into the festive carpeted floor. “Alright, just don’t lean your whole body weight on me.”

“Wouldn’t count on that.”

Both of you end up tumbling onto the balcony rails around one in the morning. As expected, Satoru couldn’t keep to his promise, throwing his ridiculously long arms around your shoulders, and whining the whole way up the stairs. It’s not his fault that the inn didn’t have an elevator installed. In all, it’s not a bad day — a bad night, even.

You straighten him against the railing before throwing a blanket over him. The fabric is thick and heavy, and Satoru forgets the ache in his limbs as he watches the way your eyes focus, eyebrows knitted, when you’re making sure he stays bundled up against the winter air. Once upon a time, Satoru never would’ve thought he would actually enjoy being in the company of someone who’s actively trying to teach him a lesson.

“Okay,” you say suddenly, almost like a reminder that you need to breathe, and pull away from him once he’s wrapped tightly like a swaddled baby.

You both sit in silence for a moment, and Satoru feels the urge to fill all that silence. He supposes maybe that’s why most people find him so annoying. He never really shuts up, always wants to add the last comment to everything. Though, with the help of Suguru by his side, it’s gotten slightly easier and bearable for others but, when his head is big and full of loud thoughts, it’s so hard trying to calm the buzzing noise in his head and —

“Gojo, look,” your pointer finger darts at the illuminated skyline in the distance and he snaps his head, following the trail, before gasping.

He feels your other hand tugging at the blanket when he finally makes out two faint bright lights in the distance. You squirm slightly next to him, to the point where your shoulders touch, and Satoru finally breathes, because suddenly, there’s heat rushing in. The loud, rough winds around him seem to die down and he’s aware of the slightly gazed expression on your face as you look into the far distance.

“Did you make a wish?” he finds himself whispering.

You grin. “Yeah, gonna make you work here for eternity,” you reply back in good natured spirit.

Something stirs inside Satoru. Something important. Well, Satoru-level important, so in the grand scheme of things, not very — but still. He unravels parts of his blanket and throws it over your head, making sure that it messes up your hair, and laughs when you throw him another pout.

“Did you make a wish?” you adjust the blanket so it covers your shoulders, moving a little closer to him, avoiding the cool breeze.

Satoru nods but presses a finger to his lips. “Not telling, though. Might not come true if I do.”

“Oh, shoot. Maybe I should’ve kept mine a secret then.”

He rolls his eyes and nudges your waist with an elbow. “You will definitely not see me here again.”

Satoru realizes, very fast, that his life has become very different, very quickly. And it might not be the bad kind of different.

Over the course of the next few days, he’s practically glued to your side as you’re showing him all things related to hospitality that his father tried to drill into him when he was a pre-teen. Obviously, it didn’t work at the time. Satoru’s known for being defiant just because he wanted to, and eventually his father stopped with the after school etiquette lessons. You, on the other hand, unfortunately have him tied around your fingers.

“You need to tidy up the edges more, Gojo.”

“There’s barely a wrinkle in these sheets!” He points at the bed sheet on the mattress, the one that he’d been working on for the last ten minutes in vain while you stood next to him with slightly concerned eyes. It’s a room service type of lesson today and, even though Satoru has never made his own bed before, he’s positive that he didn’t leave behind any smudges that might catch anyone’s eye.

“Did you check tuck in the sides? Or are you trying to get off easy for today?” You say, there’s a mild accusation in your tone when you speak, smiling as you step aside.

And, despite the warm smile, Satoru frowns a little, because guess who forgot to tuck in the sides?

When Satoru ducks his head around the mattress and sees a good loose chunk of the sheets hanging off and groans when you’re right. “It’s not my fault that they’ve made them so big for no reason,” he replies, somewhat embarrassed, rubbing the back of his head and messing up his already ruffled hair.

You roll your eyes and stick a tongue out. “You’re getting the hang of it though, maybe even faster than Yuuji when he first offered to help.”

He flushes at the unexpected praise and quickly fixes the sheets, turning his whole entire body away from your sight. “Better than Yuuji, right?”

“Oh? So, you only work better with compliments, Gojo?” You sound amused, as if a lightbulb just popped on top of your head.

Satoru flattens out the bed once more, strangely now feeling satisfied with the final outcome before turning around, sticking out a tongue of his own. “Only if it’s from you,” he answers, honestly.

You laugh, and hopefully it’s not at him. “I thought you would be more annoying to deal with.”

“So, I’m just regular amounts of annoying?” He points out, with a fake frown, his fingers fiddling with the edges of the sheet.

You turn your gaze, seemingly in deep thought, before responding with a small shrug and grin. “Possibly a perfect amount of annoying.”

Satoru feels the blood rushing to his cheeks, again. “Well, of course, it’s the perfect amount because I’m perfect,” he replies, instantly, but suddenly he’s shy and feels the need to go to the next room to fix their stupid sheets before he combusts in front of you.

“Gojo,” you say, almost hesitantly.

He swallows and rubs the back of his neck, wiping off evidence of his sweaty palms. “Yeah?”

“You missed a spot,” and your pointer fingers direct at the far right corner of the bed frame. He must’ve pulled the sides too hard and it caused the other side to flip over. Ugh, he’s not cut out for this at all.

“I’m… uh, still better than Yuuji, right?”

“Mhm, getting there, Gojo.”

By day four, Satoru has surprisingly adjusted to the rules and responsibilities. He’s not entirely sure what’s gotten him mildly well behaved, Suguru is a bit surprised by the daily updates being less… aggressive and whiny. What started as long vent paragraphs about the lack of heated flooring and needy customers, soon turned into photo albums of kids face planting into the snow and unconsented selfies with you in the background. Satoru absolutely makes sure you end up looking the worst out of the two because he’s gotta let his best friend know who’s the prettiest and he’s definitely racking up a blackmail album of all of your worst moments in case anything happens in the future.

It’s closing time and he just got back from the reindeer shed out in the back, covered head to toe in all things hay and snow. First things first, and no one bothered to tell him, but reindeers smell bad. Like, really bad. Especially at the end of the day, where their pens are covered in shit and countless carrots and apple bits from the little kids overfeeding them. Satoru is vaguely aware of the fact that he smells, just like he’s vaguely aware that the hotel lobby is oddly quiet from the usual banter between you and the usual workers.

Utahime and Choso are sitting by the cafe bar, seemingly deep in conversation about ordering more supplies for next week. Satoru thinks about interrupting their session with probably an unrelated dumb question, but the idea dies when Utahime notices his presence and motions him to come over.

“You stink,” Satoru casts a half-glare at Utahime and begins picking out some of the scattered hay pieces stuck to his sweater.

“For the record, I became good friends with Rudolph and Vixen today,” he grumbles back and Choso throws him a pat on the back.

“Hey, I don’t mind your stink, by the way. Smells kinda nice,” Choso offers up, but Satoru only shoots him a very unhappy look.

“If you think I smell nice then I’m really worried about what you think smells bad,” then he turns over to Utahime again, who’s engrossed in whatever is on her clipboard right now. “So, what did you need from me?”

“My sister,” she starts and taps away at the clipboard before handing it over to him. It’s pages upon pages of invoices from the past month. “Could you hand this to her? She should be in the back.”

“You treating me like an errand boy?”

Utahime scoffs. “What? Don’t wanna see her?”

“No, I do,” he responds, a bit too fast for his own liking, and straightens out. “Uh, is that all?” Satoru hopes his face doesn’t betray how much he’s a bit excited to interact with you, given that today was a full day out in the trenches, and he absolutely needs to hear you say his name at least twice a day in order to have a good night’s sleep.

Choso is trying really hard not to laugh, and Satoru takes it as a sign that he currently has a cheesy smile on his face — go figure. “One of the corner rooms upstairs requested a weighted blanket, mind also doing that too?”

There’s a certain relief that floods through Satoru and he thinks maybe he can take on a few more tasks for the night if that means spending a little more time with you, even if his body is screaming that he needs to take a two hour long shower.

“Hey,” he starts to say when he rounds the corner, “Where’d you put those weighted blankets again?”

Satoru expected to walk in on you neck-deep in paperwork. You’ve mentioned earlier in the week that this year would be the busiest and there’s a bunch of stuff due. Something about end of the year tax returns and inventory counts, it all goes out his ear but he remembers something similar that his father told him in a prior conversation. He thinks he could probably help you figure out some of it, but that might be a bit much.

What he walks in on, thought, is you sitting in your little makeshift office. You’re on your laptop, the screen’s tilted just right enough that he gets a glimpse of what you’re looking at. You’re looking at flights and hotels, even got a whole spreadsheet on the second monitor. From what he’s seen of you so far, you didn’t come off as the type to talk about your future that much.

His voice catches you by surprise and your expression flickers from something vaguely focused to embarrassment real quick. You hastily close out the tabs and go back to the hotel’s homepage.

“What is it, Gojo?” And there’s this awkward, oddly frantic moment of you fumbling around with the keyboard and mouse, like a teenage boy who’s just got caught looking at porn.

“Ah,” Satoru thinks seeing your flustered side is rather adorable, to say the least. “You tryin’ to plan a vacation or something?” He struts over to your desk, placing a firm hand onto the back of the chair, and there’s this smile on his face that just screams ‘gotcha’.

Your face scrunches up but it’s not out of annoyance. “Kinda?”

Even with a grumpy look, it’s a good look on you. Makes you kinda dark, brooding, and beautiful, and it turns your eyes into dark storm clouds, or some other weird, waxy poetic shit that Satoru can’t figure out the words to. Either way, Satoru thinks you look cute and can’t stop noticing your little facial movements. You’re more expressive than you would probably imagine.

“Ooh, where to?”

You sigh and start playing with your thumbs. “Malaysia. My friend told me great things about it and I’ve been meaning to go for a while now but time and money are always iffy.”

“Makes sense, I can imagine that being an inn assistant doesn’t pay all the bills.”

That was probably the wrong thing to say. You huff and glare, an icy-death glare, at him. If looks could kill, Satoru is sure that he’ll be six feet underground by now.

“Weighted blankets are on the second floor closet by the laundry room,” you answer his initial question curtly before shutting the laptop. “Don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“It was just a question,” he mumbles slowly, and maybe even a little dangerously. “If money’s an issue—”

“Gojo.” Your voice is fixed and rigid, one that leaves absolutely no room for debate. “Your dad was right about you; you always just fall back to your fame and wealth.”

As you’re busy staring, Satoru realizes that you’re kinda being a total ass to him right now.

“That’s not fair,” his voice is rising and can’t seem to put a stop to the words spilling out. “Don’t bring my dad into this conversation.”

“Or what? You can go back to your privileged life anytime you want. This is just a field trip for you while others actually have to try hard and make a living.” You spit out.

“No one forced you to become an inn worker, you know? If you’re so worried about money then you could’ve just found another high paying job.” Satoru wrinkles his nose and his volume continues to rise.

You immediately offer him a dark glare and it comes off in a cut-throat way that shuts Satoru up mid thought. The rest of his counters die in his throat when you start making hand gestures at the office exit and he gets the hint: ‘leave before I lose my shit’ is the calling he sees.

And it works, because he finds his tone shifting a little, awkwardly kicking the floor and backing off. “Whatever…”

That was last night and, by now, Satoru is realizing that he’s kind of a giant asshole and the guilt is slowly eating away at him. Was he always like this? It couldn’t have been — he’s only met you a few days ago, and this is only meant to be a quick, ‘vacational’, getaway. Sure he might be a bit selfish and a dick, but he had been able to function perfectly fine before all of this, hadn’t he?

Satoru’s not really sure.

It’s noon, and he’s lying in bed. Choso had asked him to cover his shift at the cafe, and he’d agreed, readily, even though it’s supposed to be his day off, because you’re working. Choso had texted him, though, saying that you had simply said you’d work the entire shift by yourself.

Of course. It’s absolutely not funny anymore.

Satoru sighs. He’s going to apologize, that’s for sure. It wounds some of his pride, yeah, but whatever, this tension between you guys, though, isn’t worth it. He finds himself wasting his entire morning away rotting in bed. There are things that he could be doing, that he looks forward to, like feeding the reindeers or demonstrating basic ski moves to little kids. Choso and Yuuji totally got him addicted to yelling out ‘pizza’ and ‘french fry’ at every chance he gets. They also got him addicted to a shitty relationship forum they both browse, but somehow the idea of reading other people’s relationship drama, when he’s facing drama of his own, is kinda mentally exhausting.

On second thought, maybe he should post on that forum, actually.

It might not be such a bad idea.

Or maybe he could reach out to Suguru and ask how to apologize?

His best friend is a bit more grounded and attuned with other people’s feelings compared to him, afterall. Satoru’s not good at this stuff and he’s always just cut others off whenever they do argue, but this feels different. And, well, for the first time in forever, Satoru is desperate.

“I fucked up big time and I need to apologize, help me out here?”

Suguru scoffs over the line. “Wow, what happened to saying ‘hello’ or ‘how are you’?”

Satoru rolls his eyes. “Hi, hello. How are you? How do I make a sincere apology?”

“I’m good, thank you. Now, for your request, depends on how big the fuck up is.”

He bites his tongue, finding the right words to essentially not sound like a huge dick but, no matter how he wants to rephrase it, the outcome is the same. “I might’ve implied that she’s poor and needs someone to take care of her?” It sounds so stupid, so mean, and so degrading now that he’s saying it out loud.

He hears Suguru sucking in his teeth and sighs. After a couple of pauses, his best friend finally speaks. “That’s pretty fucked up.”

Satoru frowns. “Okay, yeah, it is,” and he sits up in his bed when a snowball makes an impact against the window. It’s Utahime. And, currently, she’s throwing him the nastiest glare that a woman has ever given him in his life. “Um, I’ll call you back, buddy…”

“What? I haven’t given you—”

“Don’t have time for unwarranted advice right now.”

“You called me!”

“Bye!” Satoru ends the call before shuffling towards the window, swallowing a hard lump, and inches the glass panel just small enough for him to hear coherently and not big enough for her to punt him across the face. “Lovely morning, isn’t it?”

But Utahime is in an obvious shitty mood and Satoru’s lack of charming antics aren’t going to work this time. “I’m going to apologize, I promise,” he tries to insist.

“This is all your fault,” she immediately gets to the point and it makes him shrink back just a tiny bit. He’s starting to see that the bluntness runs in the family. “Just get your ass to work.”

“But my shift doesn’t start till—”

“Doesn’t matter,” Utahime starts to form an even bigger snowball and raises it to the window panel. “Ass out of bed, now.”

Okay, so as much as Satoru had tried to tell himself that this week wouldn’t be bad, it’s really starting to get fucking awful.

Everyone’s in a shit mood. Yuuji tries to crack some jokes but the usual crowd isn’t having it. You’ve been throwing Satoru dirty looks while working behind the cafe counter together and he’s been put on drink duty — which is his worst nightmare — while you’re attending to the customers because you’re young and cute enough for them to be nice to you. Satoru has spilled hot coffee and chocolate on himself like four times so far, and the shift just started. He’s terrified that the rest of this week is going to be like this.

“Can we talk?” Satoru whisper shouts over the espresso machine.

He sees your shoulders tensing up but immediately relaxes them afterwards. “Did you hear something, Yuuji?”

The boy looks up from the bar counter, it’s his day off and he’s catching up on some homework, but the seemingly growing tension that’s unfolding in front of him is making it painfully hard for him to focus on anything engineering related. Yuuji scratches the back of his neck before darting his eyes back and forth between the two of you. Normally, he would be the voice of reason, but Satoru doesn’t blame him when he shakes his head.

“N-Nah, must’ve been the wind or something...”

Great, he’s been reduced to an air draft.

“Mhm, that’s what I thought,” you agree without missing a beat. As the next customer in line spends an eternity holding everyone up, debating whether to get the seasonal muffin or french toast to go with their drink, you continue, “Thought I heard a rotten brat for a second.”

He absolutely doesn’t expect the harsh insult. Satoru widens his eyes at the outburst and there’s a small pause, the silence ticking in between everyone, and he’s sure that you’re glaring him down somewhere in a small reflection on the counter.

Satoru debates whether to call out your name and shake some sense into you, but Yuuji quickly swallows and makes a motion with his hands to his throat, a universal signal saying — ‘I wouldn’t test the waters, if I were you’.

And, after the customer finally decides that they didn’t want any pastries with their coffee order, you finish the transaction before announcing that you’re going on a small fifteen minute break to “stretch”. Though, anyone could see that you’re planning to cool off before you manage to actually blow up in Satoru’s face.

“How the hell am I going to talk to her?” he groans to Yuuji once you’re finally away. He’s managing the cash register and, surprisingly, finishes taking the remaining orders quite smoothly compared to his first day. At least he can pat himself on the back for this.

“You’ve really pissed her off, dude,” Yuuji replies and Satoru just rolls his eyes because that’s all he’s been hearing from everyone else all day today. “You should talk to her when she’s not… charged up.”

“Way to point out the obvious.” Sometimes he forgets that Yuuji is a bit oblivious. How is he doing so well as a mechanical engineering major?

Yuuji makes an audible ‘pop’ and whistles. “What did you even say to her?”

Satoru groans into his hands. “Did she not tell you?”

“Well, she wasn’t exactly in a chippy mood to talk about anything this morning — outside of work, that is.”

“Here’s a little TLDR version: might’ve said something classist.”

“Might’ve?”

“Okay, definitely said something classist.”

“Then…” Yuuji drums his fingers against the counter, deep in thought. “Y’know, whenever me and Megumi fight, I always invite him out to the movies to try and cheer him up. Might not be applicable to you but…”

Satoru blinks. “Are you suggesting a date would help?”

“Maybe not a date—”

“No, I’m sorry for calling you dumb, you’re so right—a nice date might work!”

“You never called me dumb, though?”

“Yeah, okay, whatever you say, kiddo.”

Satoru unravels the ribbon on his apron and throws it in Yuuji’s general direction, not caring if he tossed the stained uniform directly in his face. He hops the counter and pats the younger male on the shoulder, flashing him a genuine smile because, hey, maybe Yuuji actually is smarter than he looks.

“Gonna totally invite you to the wedding.”

It’s no secret that Satoru Gojo hasn’t been on a proper date in a pathetically long time.

He has swiped right on a number of highly influential celebrities and figures on dating apps before. Matched with nearly all of them. Gone on…maybe a lot of first dates with not a lot of second dates coming right after. Who cares though, everyone’s just there for the photos and followers anyway. Satoru knows that he’s attractive and that he personally loves big, lavish dates but, at this point, he knows you enough to understand you absolutely hate big gestures.

After a short winded conversation with Suguru and Utahime, separately, Satoru has concluded on not buying you first class tickets to Malaysia.

“Are you trying to get her to hate your guts?” Was the general consensus of the conversation with said people.

So, what’s the next best option if he can’t fly you out to Malaysia? The answer is pretty simple — bring Malaysia to Mistle Town. And no, he’s not going to be relying on his black card for anything, even though the back of his mind is telling him otherwise.

Choso blinks several times at Satoru’s printed out proposal. The colorful letters and Google image photos of beaches and coconuts slapped poorly onto the document screams back at Choso and Yuuji, bright and early on Christmas Eve.

It’s unusual for Satoru to be bouncing excitedly in place for someone other than himself. So this catches everyone off guard.

Yuuji whispers something intangible to Choso, but Satoru is able to make it out as, “Do we even have coconuts here?”

To which Choso replies, “It’s winter, so I don’t think so.”

And Yuuji moves onto the next question in queue, “What should we do about the lack of palm trees?”

A patient sigh from Choso, “We could always trim the pine trees outside?” He lamely suggests.

“It’s a good idea, no?” Satoru jumps right back in, completely missing the flat vibe from the brothers. He frowns. “Why are you guys giving me that look?”

And, like his best friend and your sister, the brothers throw him a confused head tilt.

“Well,” Yuuji weakly starts, “Your plan ‘Project: Bring Malaysia here in hopes of Y/N falling in love with me’ doesn’t really sound that great… even on paper.”

Satoru grins, fully expecting that to be the response. “I’ll order the things, don’t worry about it. I just need to borrow your lungs for this project.”

Yuuji scratches his cheek in confusion, laughing nervously again. “Our lungs…?” he echos.

“How long do I have to keep this dumb blindfold on, Choso?”

“U-Um,” Choso shoots Satoru a brow as he carefully guides you through the hotel lobby.

It’s currently decked out from head to toe in all things yellow, green, and pink beach themed inflatables. Choso and Yuuji reminded Satoru last night that maybe two flamingos would’ve been enough to get the message across, but seeing that he ordered a whole colony? Yeah, he’s sending the rich boy prayers as he reels you in further, avoiding collision with the colorful balloons and seven-foot tall palm trees, too.

“Choso?”

He squeezes your shoulders when Satoru shoots him a thumbs up. “Ten seconds.”

Satoru quietly walks over to both of you, tip toeing so the sounds of his loafers are minimized against the flooring. Once he’s inches away, Choso retreats off into a different room, mouthing to him words of final encouragement, which Satoru gladly took.

You appear restless under the blindfold. “I swear to god, if I take it off and there’s a giant pile of reindeer shit in the middle of the lobby I will actually kill somebody—”

And Satoru quietly debates whether or not he wants to keep you like this for a little while before revealing the big surprise. Seeing you flustered and confused is a very cute look on you, after all. But, he’s gotten you this far and it would absolutely kill him to leave you on such a bad notice. It’s now early evening, and the sun’s just starting to set enough that the golden rays illuminate your features from this angle. It takes Satoru back to his first private meeting with you on the balcony and he remembers why he’s even doing this in the first place.

Carefully and slowly, he slips down the blindfold and softly calls out your name. “Hey, take a look around you.”

Your eyes are blown wide when you see his face. Anger and frustration dissipate from your face when you soon realize that Satoru carries a soft expression. He watches as the emotions wash off as quickly as they came. Then, you finally take a look around your surroundings and gasp. “You—You did all of this for me?”

Satoru tenses a little, a bit on the edge. “You want the short or long answer?”

You don’t notice because you’re too preoccupied with the numerous fake flamingos around you. “On second thought, maybe no answer would also work.”

He laughs at this, slightly, before turning shy again. He feels silly, ashamed, and it makes his cheeks flush. “I wanted to say sorry again for what I said earlier.”

“You finally want to talk about it?”

He looks at your idle hands and then back to your face. When he sees that you don't move them away as he inches closer, he takes both of them into his palms, giving them a tight squeeze. “Yeah, I was a big idiot and I thought I was trying to help in the beginning but I just sounded—no, I am—a giant ass.” Satoru concludes.

The atmosphere grows quiet and heavy again. The air humid and thick despite the opened windows and you’re looking at him. Then, there are tiny little smiles that break out on your face, like freckles and stars in the sky.

“You’re such a pillow princess,” and he outright blushes ten shades darker at the nickname, “you’re lucky you’re cute.” Coming from you, that’s as good as a love confession.

I like you, he thinks, but doesn’t say it. He really likes you and doesn’t want to fuck this up.

But, everyone knows that Satoru Gojo is a child at heart.

Satoru doesn’t know who gives in first; realistically, it might’ve been one of those stupid, rare, impossible moments where it’s completely shared. Suddenly the gaudy blow up palm trees and inflatable pool blur from his vision and he feels the world roaring around him when your palms rest on his cheeks. He ducks his head down but you’re the one who closes the distance between.

You taste like strawberries and lavender, smell like warm cocoa, and feel softer than any sherpa blanket he’s had. Satoru closes his eyes and his vision goes white, his hands shakily snake around your waist, pressing you hard against his chest as if you might disappear at any moment. Satoru sighs into the kiss, it feels pleasantly warm, that throb in his chest, it’s a slow, steady thrum of simmering desire and comfort. He’s pretty sure he’s adding way too much tongue, the drool and saliva that comes dripping between you two will be uncomfortable soon, but for now, it adds to the blissed out, satisfaction you’re both basking in.

Finally, you pull away, shortening yourself a good several inches from planting the rest of your feet on the ground. Your eyes are glossed over, watery and looking at him without vexation. “You’re something else.” You say, but there’s no bite.

Satoru doesn’t speak for a moment. He’s too focused on the feeling of your warm fingers sprawled all over his heating face. Too focused on the dull pulse of both nervousness and infatuation slowly spreading through his body because you’re giving him that look. This all feels romantic and stupid, he thinks.

“I’m sorry, again.” The words are quiet, hesitant, and Satoru almost regrets them the moment he speaks.

You shift around a little, now dancing on the balls of your feet, but the grasp you have on his cheeks is still relatively firm, even applying a bit of more pressure as if it’s your way of showing reassurance. You tip your head; your eyes are so vivid and bright, it sends a shiver down Satoru’s spine. In this moment, he remembers every single thing between them in shocking detail — the awkwardness, the tension, the frustration, the dumb banters, and suddenly he’s overwhelmed.

“I’ll forgive you if you give me a private city tour,” you laugh. “And come back to work with us again next year.”

Satoru offers a small smile. “Unpaid?”

“Will you say no if it is?”

He hugs you tighter, a chuckle bubbles in his throat. “I don’t think I can say no because it’s you.”

Though, while some might think that Satoru is the real loser here for being whipped so hard over a small town girl, you know that deep down the real loser is you. Because you managed to have the son of a CEO wrapped around your fingers and now you will never know peace again. But you’re not really complaining; instead, you’re working even harder to save just enough to eventually see your dream destination while Satoru whines and sends an ungodly amount of selfies everyday when he’s back home. And you won’t allow yourself to get snappy because, well, you’re very much head over heels for him, too.

#event: i got my eyes on youೄྀ࿐ˊˎ #doobea writing #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #gojo fluff #satoru gojo fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk x fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen x female reader

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stickymolasses · 4 months

Note

omgg if you’re comfortable, can you write about reader calling harry “theo” after his middle name? i feel like he would blush so bad, his face would be all red 😊

MY THEO

an: hello anon! this is such a sweet ask, i'm giggling and kicking my feet omg. it’s christmas day for me, happy holidays to all! i hope we’re all eating good food and spending time with family and friends. <3

summary: You and Harry are resting in your bed and you call him a nickname he hasn't heard in a while. pairing: harry osborn x reader warnings: making out, cringe <:

The evening ushered in a tranquility that had eluded both you and Harry for quite some time.

A slight crack in the small window above your bed allowed a gentle breeze to permeate the room. While many might argue that the air in New York City carried a sharp and unpleasant scent, it smelled of new beginnings to you. Describing your life in the city proved to be an indescribable experience.

You gaze up at Harry, lying on your bed. He looks like a dream, his eyes half-closed and glazed with the allure of sleep. Your right hand rests on his bare chest, while the other is delicately woven through his.

His ginger hair is slightly overgrown, falling over his forehead haphazardly. He hadn’t been able to get a haircut lately; the holidays were approaching, and his barber was packed with appointments. You’ve been trimming his hair for him, but you're afraid to go too short—God forbid you ruin his beautiful hair. He couldn’t care less about his hair's appearance, though, as long as you're running your hands through it gently.

You swipe your hand over his forehead to smooth out his unruly hair, allowing you to see his eyes more clearly. His green ones flutter towards your own and rest there.

The two of you pause for a moment. The city is surprisingly quiet, with no traffic or drunk college students, just the two of you breathing in time with the wind outside your window. Your chests rise and fall together.

“What do you think you would be doing right now if we hadn’t met each other?” You speak, breaking through the silence you had accumulated. Harry moves a piece of hair behind your ear and lets his hand linger on your face for a while.

“I’d probably be in my own bed at home, dreaming of being here instead,” he smirks.

You scoff and let out a small chuckle, “But you wouldn’t know I exist! How could you possibly dream of me?”

“I’m sure I’d find a way,” he says, matter-of-factly.

“Well, I think I would be at the movies.” Harry laughs at your answer, a real laugh, from the bottom of his chest. The sound of his happiness always makes you feel warmth in your chest.

“What’s so funny?” You sit up on your knees, looking down at him, still laughing. His laughter is contagious, and you join him in his fit.

“Just you, always so sure of yourself. If you told me you were born with vampire fangs and blue skin, I would have no choice but to believe you.”

“Well, it’s just one of my many charms.” Harry laughs again, swiftly pulling you back down to lie with him. You wonder how he’s gotten so strong over the past couple of months.

He pulls you into a warm kiss, slowly trailing down to your neck and lingering there for a moment. You feel his breathing below your ear, and it elicits a shiver to run down your spine.

“Can I stay here tonight?” He says your name, dripping with want. It causes you to let out a gentle moan.

You suck in a sharp breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“Of course you can.”

He smiles wide and kisses you again, this time harder and needier. He bites your bottom lip, and you gasp, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You part to allow yourselves a moment to breathe. There is barely any space between the two of you, the gap between your lips just enough to speak in a whisper.

“Anything for my Theo…”

Harry blushes a red you have never seen before; it may not even exist on the color wheel. He swiftly buries his head into your neck and groans, embarrassed.

“Nobody has called me that since the third grade.” It comes out muffled, barely audible, but you heard it.

“But it’s so cute!”

“Who names anyone Theopolis anyway? What was my dad thinking…” He separates himself from you and flops on your bed, placing a pillow over his face.

“I think it’s a beautiful name. Very regal, like a knight.” You lean down and remove his pillow-shield, kissing his nose.

“A knight… Your knight in shining armor.” His blush fades, and his smile returns.

You fake a sigh and shake your head, “What am I going to do with you, Theo?”

Harry groans again, much louder this time, and swiftly launches a pillow at you.

“I am never going to stop calling you that.”

an: i wrote this pretty quickly so pls forgive me if it's shit lol. i had fun writing this, though. let me know if i have any errors or anything inconsistent that you notice. i fear i may be the only one still writing harry osborn ps5 x readers LMFAO. let me know if your interested in me writing for any other characters. i can write any spiderman character (age appropriate, of course) and pretty much any marvel character. i am not a huge mcu fan, but i will write for loki if anyone is interested in that. anyways, long author's note sorryyyyyyy! happy reading!

#fanfiction #x reader #harry osborn #harry osborn fanfiction #harry osborn ps5 #harry osborn x reader #harry osborn x y/n #marvels spiderman 2 #spiderman ps4 #fanfic

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anincompletelist · 4 months

Text

rwrb christmas recs! ❤️

hi all! :D i wanted to rec some festive fics for the holidays for fic rec friday this week!

I'm sure that I've missed some and that some are still to be posted, which will be included in the january rec if so! but here are a few that I've particularly enjoyed reading this month -- the holidays can be a difficult time for many of us and fic - both reading and writing it - can be such a wonderful distraction!

I hope all of you are doing well and being kind to yourselves and to one another this season. happy reading, and as always be sure to spread the love with a kudos, comment, or reblog if possible. enjoy, and happy christmas! <3

fell apart (in the usual way) by @hypnostheory (E, 12k)

Henry is a mess around the holidays, and he's expecting to have a tremendously horrid time without Shaan. Fortunately, Alex has plans to make his Christmas both merry and bright. (Bodyguard!Alex Part 2)

When I Think About You by @clottedcreamfudge (E, 36k, wip)

Dream sharing is absolutely not a thing, even though Alex would very much like it to be. The magic of soulmates, however, means that someone you’ve never met – someone whose soul is tied to yours, in whatever way that manifests – can appear in your dreams, like an extra character who keeps popping up over and over again. They won’t be having the same dream as you, and you won’t actually meet, but whatever you remember from the dream can start to take shape in your waking hours; you can figure things out, bit by bit, dream by dream.

Gonna Give You Something (So You Know What's On My Mind) by @affectionatelyrs (E, 4k+)

With the help of a white elephant gift, Henry learns that maybe the whole being-in-love-with-his-roommate thing isn’t as one-sided as he thought.

Every Day's a Holiday (When I'm Near To You) by bleedingballroomfloor (E, 30k)

I know this is a long shot, but if anyone’s going to Texas/anywhere south for the holidays and is crazy enough to drive there instead of fly, I’m looking for a road trip buddy. We can split gas money and snacks if you pick good ones. DM me if you’re interested. And Henry knows he's about the make the most idiotic decision he's ever made in his life. [Or, Henry impulsively tags along with Alex on a road trip to Texas with absolutely no plan. Surely this won't backfire.]

The Christmas Guest by @omgcmere (E, 17k)

Alex is looking forward to a relaxing winter break catching up with his sister after her semester abroad, but June's gone and ruined everything by inviting her insufferable international student friend to stay with their family for a real American Christmas experience. Henry is irritatingly gorgeous with a completely obnoxious superiority complex, and Alex is prepared to hate every single second he's forced to spend in his presence. As Alex starts to get into the Christmas spirit, however, he finds that maybe there's more to Henry than meets the eye - and maybe, just maybe, this will actually be the best Christmas ever

❤️ and if you finish all of these or don't see something you like, be sure to check out this wonderful collection!

New Traditions: A Red, White & Royal Blue Advent Calendar Event

featuring so many beautiful and lovely works by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @adreamareads @lizzie-bennetdarcy @whimsymanaged @raysletters @sparklepocalypse @thinkof-england @littlemisskittentoes and more!

❤️ as well as a few rwrb holiday fic roundup posts I've seen floating around:

cricketnationrise's holiday fics / @cricketnationrise chamel's holiday fics / @cha-melodius railmedaddy's holiday fics / @rmd-writes allmylovesatonce's holiday fics / @three-drink-amy clottedcreamfudge's holiday fics / @clottedcreamfudge

❤️ and, last but most definitely not least, a wonderful and thorough rec from @roseharpermaxwell (thank you for all you do!)

RWRB FirstPrince Holiday Recs

happy reading friends! :D

#fic recs #my fic recs #rwrb holiday fics #rwrb Christmas fics #rwrb #red white and royal blue #firstprince #rwrb fic recs #red white and royal blue fanfic recs

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crystlizabeth · 5 months

Note

WE NEED A PART 2 AMD 3 OF WHAT HAPPENS IN MEXICO

Kyle and Soap fight it out ft the gang

Soap actually shows up to thanksgiving and the Garrick's love him and ask him to stay for the night the whole hospitality thing (she and soap fuck in her childhood bedroom)

AHHHHHHH so cute

Happy Family ‧₊˚.

Johnny ‘Soap’ McTavish x Garrick!blkfem!reader

Summary: After the events in Mexico, Johnny finds himself going against is friends wishes to talk to his little sister and finds himself attending thanksgiving with the Garrick’s..

Warnings: cursing, smut, little age gap 6ish years apart, chaotic family stuff, Kyle hating on Johnny and his sister(sibling love!!)

A/n: So I figured out Thanksgiving is not celebrated in the UK makes sense, so I'm making the Garrick family British American(Kyle and the reader's dad is American) the accent just lingers. Didn’t really think about it but reader also studies abroad.

“Are you fucking kidding me!” Kyle yelled pushing Johnny back him hitting the wall.

“What are you on? I didn’t know she was your sister yeah?” Johnny scoffed.

Kyle had been at Johnny’s throat since he had gotten back from dropping his sister off at the hotel she was staying at, price had made an attempt to pull Kyle off of him but he was only pushed away.

“You're a piece of Shit John don't fucking touch my sister, alright. She's not just of of your hookups don't even think about going near her.” Kyle spoke his finger pressed on Johnny’s chest.

“Watch yer fuckin’ mouth,” Johnny warned glaring at Gaz.

“What because I'm saying the truth? You're a bastard that ruins things he touches, you are a piece of shit, John. Stay the fuck away-”

Before Kyle could finish Johnny had punched Kyle falling back, instead of sitting there Kyle came right back at him. Ghost went to step in but Price held his hand up.

“Wait. Let them get at it for a minute.” price said.

They let them beat on each other then blood started to spill ghost grabbed Johnny and Price pulling Kyle off of him.

“Listen ya son of a bitch,” Kyle started.

“Alright Kyle keep it down.” price said pulling him away from Johnny.

That was the last time Kyle and Johnny had an actual conversation.

Johnny even talked to her out of spite at first but eventually actually started to like her, started to love her. Maybe too soon to tell but he was head over heels for her. Now for the past months, Johnny had been spending his time with her.

God, he felt as if he knew everything about her, how to touch her those soft sweet gasps that escaped from her lips as he touched her. This didn't make him a good friend that's for sure dating Kyles's little sister and he knew it.

Now he sat on the couch of his apartment watching as she was talking on the phone he didn't know who but he listened to her chat. Her back faced him, and not having any pants on the shirt she wore was his ‘Mctavish’ in dark lettering, he tilted his head to get a look at her ass that hung out at the bottom of the shirt. Green looked good on her dark complexion, but she would look even better bent over that countertop.

Soap pushed himself of the couch just as she was hanging up the phone. Johnny let his arms wrap around her waist his face pushing her curls aside his check touching hers. He felt her back in to him a bit “who was that bonnie?” he asked.

“My mum..” she hummed her hands coming up grabbing his biceps he nails lightly digging into them.

“Yeah, what she callin’ fo’..”

“School, checking on me.. She wants me to bring you to thanksgiving..” she spoke.

“American Holiday?” Johnny questioned.

“My dad’s American though me and Kyle grew up here my parents moved back to America after we both graduated being closer with family ya know.” She answered turning her body leaning back on the counter.

Johnny nodded “That means I have to meet your family and see.”

“Kyle, yeah he’ll just have to deal with it.” She smiled her hands coming ups to Johnny’s face her fingers running across his stubble.

“I reckon he will..” Johnny chuckled his lips meeting her two tones ones the taste of her Shea butter chapstick lingered on his lips.

Yeah needless to say when Kyle watched you and Johnny walk through the door his smile faded being replaced with a glare. The silence between her and her brother went unnoticed by their family. For a short while anyway.

Johnny got to meet everyone mostly everyone, pretty much all of her fathers side and few of her mother's. Kyle practically ignored Johnny’s existence, until asked about him.

“He was alright before he got in my sisters pants.” The comment earning a smack from your mother.

He got along well with her father as they talked to her dad he for sure scared the hell out of him. He was a big guy reminded him of Simon a bit taller, tattoos covered his dark-toned arms. He was scary that’s for sure but all around a sweet guy once you got to know him, her father made sure to let Johnny know if her broke his daughter’s heart he’d be dealt with. And her mother was a sweetheart tall herself maybe 5’8 her curls pulled back in a claw clip grays could be seen from her roots. They continued the conversation her uncles and mother joining in only to be interrupted by Kyle bickering with his sister.

“I will beat the shit out of you Kyle- leave him alone,” she spoke glaring at your brother.

“Please he needed to be beat in yeah?” Kyle spoke.

“You bullying my boyfriend is not breaking him in to the family.” She scoffed.

Johnny looked over his eyes coming back to her mothers only for her to shake her head saying let them at it for a second it gets interesting. And it did the two siblings going at it, her comments destroying each other until he went silent and started to walk away.

“Yeah walk away, nothin to say huh- bitch.” She scoffed Kyle turning around flipping her off before going down the hall.

“Gagged” Her aunt said moving her Bob behind her ear laughing.

She groaned “someone had to—he need to get laid so he can HOP OF MY BOYFRIEND.” She yelled the last part down the hall making sure her brother heard.

The Garricks were something else but it was enjoyable similar to Johnny’s family but a bit more chaotic. They love Johnny your aunties making his plate befor you could making sure he was fed and fed well. Table conversation went around school and other drama, your family had a colorful use of language that’s for sure.

“Ya know, Johnny baby. Have you seen her room yet?” Her mother asked.

She shook her head “no he has not. And he won’t.”

“Aren’t you staying with us?” Her father asked.

“Didn’t plan on it we have a hotel we can check into after we leave.” She spoke.

“Yeah no, I’ll show you where to take bags Johnny.” Her father spoke smiling at Johnny his melanin cheeks puffing up as he smiled.

He nodded looking over at her, his hand gripping her thigh teasingly. “What Bonnie? What’s yer room look like lass?” He asked his tone cheeky.

“It’s embarrassing because I went in it earlier I know my mother went in it and pulled some things out.”

“Yeah all of her stuff animals.” Kyle laughed.

She let out a groan, “How many we talkin?”

“To many it’s a problem.” She admitted.

Johnny only laughed light-heartedly patting his girlfriend's thigh before letting it come back up to the table to eat.

As conversation went on Johnny felt her hand go down to his thigh, her nails dragging on the inside of his thigh. He gave he a grin displayed on her glossy lips as he felt her hand go up higher her finger gliding against his clothed cock.

He shutters lightly his left hand grabbing her wrist. “What's wrong?” She asked innocently her brows frowned.

“Nothing…” he spoke his tone warning her.

She tilted her head her tight curls moving down to the side. Her long lashes batting at him as her dark eyes met his light ones. She leaned in her breath hitting his ear as she whispered “Let’s take it to the bathroom yeah?”

He moved away from her glaring at her but a smile on his lips. She was filthy.

“Are you planning on staying with her I would expect so.” Her mom spoke catching Johnny's attention.

“Yeah-”

“No.”

Kyle spoke over Johnny.

Their mother shot a glare at Kyle, him saying sorry quietly but his gaze stabbed Johnny in the side of the head.

Soon dinner ended everyone starting to pick up, Johnny helping his girlfriend with the dishes the two talking. Kyle watched and he hated it, he didn’t hate that his sister was dating someone it was the fact to who she was dating. He hated that fact the he took such good care of her too, “you keep staring at them your sister will give ya shit love.” His mother said her head resting on the arm as she watched them as well.

Johnny flicked water into her face earning a heartfelt laugh as well as a smack to his arm. “You realized he's 26 right mum?” Kyle said.

“Could be worse,” she laughed lightly squeezing his arm. Kyle only shook his head groaning.

It had finally gotten late everyone leaving leaving the five of them, Johnny hand brought their bags in.

“Okay you can't judge me alright,” she spoke standing in front of her door not letting johnny in yet.

“ ‘mon lass ain't gonna judge you.” he chuckled lightly at the girl.

She pressed her dark lips together nodding before opening the door. The room was dimly lit with Christmas lights, her walls covered in posters big and small, and her bed covered with stuffed animals. One thing he could tell it was very pink. His lips curved into a smile seeing the childish room, his head turned to hers, her hands covered the bottom half of her face.

“When did ya move out?” he spoke putting the bags down.

“A year ago..” she muttered.

Johnny moved to stand in front of her his calloused hand touching her face and lifting her chin up “What's wrong Lassie? It's very you n I love it.” he smiled his lips meeting hers.

“But I do have to say, that stunt you pulled at dinner,” he spoke his one hand grabbing her face.

Her lips pulled up into a grin “I don't know whatcha mean Johnny.” she hummed her hands trailing up his chest.

He pushed the door closed as he pushed her against it her hand moving to lock it. “You know exactly what I mean..”

She shook her head “You might have to remind me, baby..”

He hummed his hand reaching to the back of her head and grabbing a hand of hair pulling her head back a soft moan escaping her lips. His hand grazed over his belt before letting her fingers slide down his clothed cock.

He bent down kissing her neck right in the area that made her squirm, his free hand sliding up the bottom of her shirt pulling her tit out of her bra. Johnny let his thumb run over her hard nip meeting the warm metal of her piercing. Something about him playing with her nubs got her worked up so quickly, his knee lifting up and pressing against her core the dress she wore bunching up. Coming up to kiss her lips it became messy quickly her pawing at his shirt and pulling him closer as she ground herself on his thigh.

“Please Johnny..” she whimpered.

“Yeah bonnie? How bad ya want me eh?” he spoke hitting her bottom lip.

So she did, the begging leaving her pretty lips as he kissed her pressing his thigh harder to her core as she rubbed herself against him. Her whiney tone made him harder as he held himself back just wanting to know how desperate she was.

“Fuck- please Johnny, stuff me. Stuff me full,” she pleaded.

That was his tipping point grabbing her and lifting her up the feeling of her legs wrapping around him as they both fell onto the bed. Johnny lifted himself up unbuttoning his dress shirt, throwing it to the side the pulling of his undershirt quickly. He went back to her his hands grabbed the hem of her dress sliding it up and pulling it off her in one motion. Her bra was discarded earlier the both were topless.

Johnny leaned down his skin touching hers, the skin-to-skin practically making him moan. Her hands placed on his shoulders her nails digging into them as the made out his groin grinding against her.

“Yer so fouking wet f’er me love.” he groaned his fingers touching the outside of her soaked panties.

“It's all for you,” she whispered the feeling of him pushing her panties to the side feeling her wet folds.

He discarded his boxers, soon letting his finger lop around the sides of her panties pulling them of and watching her stick arousal make a string.

He laughed loudly “Yeah~ love ya want me that bad.” he spoke looking down at her seeing her nod.

“Open up f’er me.” he said tapping her thighs soon placing himself in between her.

He slid his cock against her folds his meaty tip soon sinking into her, he hand quickly slapping over her mouth keeping her quiet.

She pulsed around him as he sat there slowly working himself into her. “F’ckin made for me.” he whimper.

Sitting up he picked her hips up putting her in an arch his thrust becoming faster. She looked good like this his cock going in and out of her needy cunt, it drooling all over him. “Yes— oh fuck..” she cried out johnnys harsh thrust not changing pace.

Changing position his arms cuffed under hers cradling her head her legs thrown over his broad shoulders. “Common— atta girl fockin’ take it.” he groaned his head falling into her shoulder as he pumped in and out of her at a brutal pace.

“Johnny—” she cried out her nails dragging down his back as if she's trying to hold on.

She could feel every inch of him his balls slapping against her. Continuing to keep herself quiet as he fucked her relentlessly, she began to babble to Johnny telling him how good he made her feel. Soon Her walls squeeze around him “Ya good cum f’me, lass, common baby cum for me.” he encourage, feeling his balls get tight.

“I want you to cum in me..” she begged her words slurred.

Leaning up a bit enough to see her face he saw tears in the corner of her dark eyes, “want me to fill your cunt up, Lassie? You want my thick nut huh?” his words filthy his hand grabbing her throat applying pressure.

“Yes- God yes please fill me up with your nun!” she cried.

She was asking so nicely and with that pretty face how could he say no?

With a few more thrusts his balls drained into her, her body becoming slightly stiff as a shaky moan escaped her mouth as she came on his cock him pushing on her stomach as she did. Johnny lifted himself now slowly pumping in her his cum spilling out he watched with a pleased grin.

Pulling out he watched the cum leak out of her puffy cunt. “Steemin’ Jesus Bonnie, you look so good with my cum dripping out that beautiful cunt.” he spoke leaning down kissing her his hand slaponv her cunt.

“Hey!-”

He let out a cheeky laugh. “Johnny that hurt” she whined.

After cleaning himself up and making sure she peed he came back into the room with a warm wet rag letting in drag down her cunt cleaning it up, them her legs his lips leaving soft kisses on her back as he took care of her fragile body.

“You take such good care of me baby,” she mumbled.

“Oh love this is my job, especially after making a mess of you,” he spoke gently his hands needing at her thighs and kissing them as he did so.

He loved this part maybe not as much as bullying the shot out of her pussy. But he loved taking care of her after whipping her down and massaging her sore body.

“Tierd lass?” he asked.

“Mmhm..”

He hummed going over to her bag and grabbing a pair of panties and one of his shirts “sit of f’r me.” he whispered.

He sat behind her moving her legs up and putting her underwear on then pulling the t-shirt over her head. “Wanna wrap your hair?” he spoke lifting up her bonnet.

She nodded handing him a scrunchie, he gathered her hair up looping the scrunchie around her hair once then placed the bonnet on her head “There we go love..” he kissed the side of her face.

“Thank you, baby,” she said moving the side so she could lay next to him her head falling onto his chest once he did lay down.

The two soon one fell asleep maybe not as aware of how loud the were Kyle who was across the hall heard more than he would have liked his headphones saving him.

Heres this! As promised! I hope you like it and happy almost Thanksgiving!!

#x black reader #black fem reader #johnny mctavish x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #john mctavish #johnny soap mctavish x black reader #soap x black reader #soap x reader #soap call of duty #soap cod #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap mctavish

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dolliedarlin · 2 years

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I'm sure you did great Dollie, and yeah chocolate milk solves everything lol

My finals are coming up and I need to study for those but today is a national holiday so I chose to sleep in and play genshin impact all day instead

also gonna meet up w my friend tomorrow after like 3 months and im really excited for that as well

i also cant wait for summer (5 weeks in total left and 2 of those will be spent with my finals while one will be just boring as hell cause its the last week and noone will be there) that said i dont think i will go abroad tho i wish i could but i hope you enjoy your stay there!

i need new friends at school because my current ones are toxic and i dont like it ╰（‵□′）╯

i also somehow got myself into a mess called ao3 and now i cant get out. someone send help over here or im gonna spend the rest of eternity reading quirkless!izuku fics

Thank you, darling and yes! Yes it does, at least for me XD

That sounds like an amazing way to spend your day, happy national holiday to you, beautiful! I’m happy you got to relax before your finals, it’s what we all hope for x

That sounds exciting! I hope you and your friend have a fun time and catch up well over some yummy food, maybe? hehe~ for me outings need to have food involved and if not food then bubble tea <3 I highly recommend it if you haven’t tried it yet ;3

Oh god! A boring week of nothing sounds like absolute bliss right now!

About those friends of yours…hmmm, I hope you distance yourself and find better company, if not in person then online? Hey! I’m your friend! Come and talk to me any time, my love, I wouldn’t want you going on a rampage flipping tables over toxic friends XDDD

Ooof…darling there’s no helping you there, I’m stuck in AO3 too and…there’s no getting out I’m afraid - we’re stuck there together now but it gets better, I promise XD

#love; dollie #🌸 anon

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letters-between-friends · 4 months

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choking on grapes

Hi Ana,

Happy new year!

We should really write to each other more often as so many things keep happening that they add up so quickly. Now I can't even figure out how to properly update you.

I got sick over the holidays but was okay exactly on New Year's Eve, so I went to watch Novak Djokovic's match here in Perth. Can you believe it? I've been watching the guy play on tv for over a decade, and I remember my countless embarrassing tweets about him especially around 2013-2016 (not that I ever stopped). I thought the match would last a few hours, but there were actually 3 matches for Serbia vs China so I ended up spending until a bit over midnight in the RAC arena. We did the countdown there and everything.

The best part is I was alone. I was sick all week so I didn't make plans - but when I got cleared that afternoon, I didn't even hesitate. I got tickets and planned my day regardless of whether I would have company or not. It was a dream come true and I was so happy.

At midnight I called B (my engineer bestie) to show him the arena fireworks, N (my lover) to greet him a very happy new year and see what he's up to, and Alecks (one of my best friends in Canada).

The next day, N picked me up so we can spend the first day of the year together. I got us grapes so we can eat 12 each - to have good luck for each month. I knew this boy was special because when I said, "Well, I figured if it was indeed lucky then we get good luck all year, but if it doesn't work, then it can't really do any harm."

He so quick-wittedly said, "It can if you choke on a grape."

So instead of going with our plan of just having the grapes slowly and talking about the things we want to do this year, we challenged each other to scarf down the grapes and eat all 12 at once. He had zero problems with this. I on the other hand, almost choked on my 10th grape. I think it's a sign that I'll have a pretty good year.

I know we also caught up on the 1st of January over the phone so it's not like you missed a lot of my updates - but it's been 10 days since and I have recently also just turned 29.

I also spent it with N, who very thoughtfully organised a dinner with me at this beautiful beach restaurant. Then in the morning made me homemade crepes with blueberries and agave syrup. I spent half of the day embracing him and the other half just giving him kisses. He even said, "You've had at least a hundred kisses today. Minimum."

He was not wrong. And these were very innocent, affectionate and really adorable kisses. I just like being with him. It's always so peaceful and relaxing. We also played Lego Fortnite and watched Scrubs while I rested my head on his chest.

For months, my friends have been calling me out about not being open or likely being too cool or too scared to take it to the next level with N, but if I'm being honest, I like where things are with us currently. Like I have zero complaints. He is the loveliest boy, and if this ends up being the most we can do with each other, then I still have zero regrets. And I mean that - cross my heart & hope to die - I love N but if this is it, I know for certain that we both will be okay.

I actually think it's one of the more beautiful things about our relationship. Neither of us are necessary for each other. We both have plenty of choices, and our pool only continues to grow as we do. And yet - we choose to stay with each other in whatever capacity we can.

I've had a lovely start to the year and one of the online things I've been doing lately, is actually being quite active on Instagram. Every few days, I would post a story or photo collage of things I have been up to, and little elements from this life I have here and I keep getting replies and messages of people saying they love my aesthetic, and how my life looks like it was lifted from pinterest.

It's not. And it's messy and rough around the edges and I have so many problems I don't even want to think about, but you know what?

I think I like this little life.

So no big plans this year. I just want to do better... drink more water, love more, generally be kinder - to myself and to others. and hopefully, not choke on any grapes.

Tabitha

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christmasassistancehelp · 2 years

Text

Tree of Happiness: How to get the most out of your holiday season without breaking the bank

December is the month of love and light, but it can be expensive to get all the things you want for your loved ones. You may be thinking, “I don’t have time for this! I need to hit the mall and buy everything!” But if you follow these tips, you can turn your holiday season into a beautiful tree of happiness without breaking the bank.

How to Enjoy the Season without Spending a fortune.

One of the benefits of spending no money on your holiday season is that you can enjoy the season without breaking the bank. Here are three ways to achieve this:

1. Go with a group and buy tickets in advance. This will save you money on transportation, as well asuddle up in a warm bed at night together.

2. Use a travel agent to get pre-booked flights and hotels ahead of time. This will save you money on both the flight and hotel costs, as well as any added extras like meals or luggage fees.

3. Enjoy the season without spending any money at all! There are many great ways to enjoy the holidays without spending a dime, so find what works best for you and go for it!

How to Get the Most out of Your Holiday Season.

There are a number of places to enjoy the holiday season, but it’s important to find the right one for you. Factors to consider include what kind of holiday you’d like to experience (Christmas, Thanksgiving, etc.), where you would like to stay during the season, and your budget.

Know What to Expect When You're in the Season

When you're in the holiday season, it's important to be prepared for everything from traffic congestion and long lines at busy tourist destinations to extreme cold and heavy snow. Be aware of what to expect and plan accordingly.

Make the Most of Your Holiday Season

By taking advantage of all the opportunities that holidays provide, you can make the most of your vacation by enjoying all that New England has to offer. From exploringurdenoads National Historic Site—a must-do if you're in Boston—to dining out at top restaurants like The Ritz-Carlton or The Benares, there are plenty of choices available without breaking the bank.

Find the Right Holiday Gifts

If you want to give your loved ones a gift that will make them happy this year, think about gifting something special like tickets or lodging vouchers for an event or tour they'll love. Alternatively, some people prefer purchasing items directly rather than giving them away as a gift; this can be done through online stores or even phone app platforms like Airbnb or TripAdvisor."

Tips for Enjoying the Season without Spending a fortune.

One of the best ways to enjoy the holiday season without breaking the bank is by using the right tools. If you have a budget, consider using common sense and using gifts that are specific to your interests or needs. For example, if you’re looking for a new book to read during the holidays, buy one specifically for the season. Or if you want to decorate your home withholiday-themed items, purchase them before the holiday season even begins!

Live in the Now and Enjoy the Season

Another great way to spend less while enjoying the holidays is by living in the now. Don’t plan too much in advance and instead focus on enjoying each moment as it comes. By living in the present, you won’t be pulled away from your vacation plan or distracted by thoughts of money worries. Instead, let go of all worries and enjoy each day as it comes.

Have Fun and Enjoy the Season

Last but not least, try to have fun while on vacation! This means don’t overdo it on activities or work yourself into exhaustion – just relax and enjoy yourself!By staying active and having some fun during your vacation days, you can help reduce stress and make sure you have a great time – without breakingthe bank!

Conclusion

Enjoying the holidays without spending a fortune is possible. By knowing what to expect and making the most of your holiday season, you can have a great time without breaking the bank. Stay safe during the holiday season and enjoy yourself!

#best ways to enjoy the holiday season

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randomstudentblog · 2 years

Text

8/27/2022

A lot happened since my last post here. I'm just gonna summarized it up lol

*I passed our hospital internship qualifying exam.

*We had our orientation, there were a lot of students from different universities. I am group 5 and they made me the team leader haha, I cant even focus on my research group, oh well, I guess this is another way for me to manage my time at the same time to practice my communication skill. hahha wish me luck.

*Tested reactive for HBSAg, this one is a real bummer since idk what will happen to me with regards to our internship, idk when I'm going to start or if I'm gonna start at all. I am yet to confirm the result on tuesday since I'll have my hepa profile as suggested by the medtechs as well as by our chairperson. So I hope, I'll be nonreactive, considering that my Anti-HBS is still reactive having 289.1 IU/L titer, still good value I guess haha

*Yvone tested positive for COVID and I am part of her close contact so I'm currently under isolation for about 5 days. UUh whyy are we getting the positive results, was it because we have been negative people for the past few weeks? hahaha

*I'm heading to Manila next month 'cause I'm one of the 3 students that will represent our university for the upcoming PASMETH quizbee. I don't really join any competition but I'm not going to skip this one simple because I dont wanna missed any more opportunity plus who doesn't wanna go to Manila haha. Although I'm not really confident with my knowledge at all but I'll do my best nonetheless. This will be the last time I'm going to participate in a competition in our university since I'm already in my 4th year soo yea.

*I haven't touch our research paper. This has been bothering me for weeks already yet I'm not doing anything to improve it. I'm basically stuck and my groupmates, I guess they are just waiting for my next step to make lol. Idk actually. I felt a bit pressure awhile ago since I have learned that Jawe's group is about to have their final defense by 3rd week of September lol. I hope we'll have ours by October. *cross finger*

*I finally bought and have with me my new laptop, Asus Zenbook duo UX482. I never thought initially that I'll end up with this cool laptop cause I just yknow, expect that I'll get the zenbook 14x OLED since it's the one that I saw in the store that really amazes me. LOL but I end up purchasing this Duo instead which is the laptop I'm currently using to make this post. I must say it's very cool however, the pen isn't responsive as my tablet's pen plus its palm rejection is kinda crappy lol, made me a bit disappointed cause taking note using pen in the second screen is the main reason why I decided to purchase this laptop. But overall this laptop's fine, great if I discover more of its useful feature.

*Internship is on Sept. 1. I have already move to my dorm but I went home yesterday cause I have like a free time for about 3 days, I wanna spend it here in our house cause i really think when my internship start i wont be able to go home as often as I can since my schedule is a bit hectic plus it kinda risky to go home since I'll be working in a hospital. And Myco's no longer going to stay with me since her RLE sched is also a hectic one, so I'll be living in my dorm alone. Haven't finish complying all my requirement plus the needed things for my first section which is CM (AUBF+Para). PLus our schedule will be 2 days duty and 2 days off. Our 12 hr- duty hour is either 7am-7pm or 7pm-7am. We no longer have holidays, except if our day-off sched is on the same day as the holiday hahaha

*Our 2 dogs are pregnant haha Kikay and Coffee. I feel a bit sad since Kay is still too young to be pregnant.

*I got bit by by own dog. My dogs were fighting. It was Luna against the rest of my small dogs. Luna was bitten hard, she already has a lot of scar on her hands, similar to mine lol. As I was tryna stop them from fighting I got bit by Pickles i guess. Idk who bit me but it was either Cashew or pickles. The wound was kinda deep haha but as of this writing, I can somehow already use my bitten finger haha. I have also received shots against rabies and tetanus. I'll have my last shot on Aug. 31.

hmm what else, I guess that pretty much about it. I'll just make another post if i am able to recall important happenings in my life. sorry self if I have been inconsistent for the past few weeks but I am currently doing my best to stay on track.

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chericarlisle · 3 years

Note

You asked for Carlisle Cullen requests and I am here to deliver❤️ can I ask for a fic where the reader finally confesses to Carlisle they are in love with him? Preferably fluffy with some kisses 😌, I would also prefer the reader not be a doctor or nurse if possible! Thank you so much!

𝐌𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐞 || 𝐜.𝐜

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: carlisle cullen x human reader

(𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2k

𝐚/𝐧: i hope you enjoy this! i tried to think of a way to get the two to meet, but have it still correlate! so the reader will be Alice’s friend :) thank you for requesting <3 please know that the reader is NOT a minor!!!

For the years that you had attended Forks High, you had grown close to a certain Cullen daughter, Alice. Her personality was that of a pink rose and its symbolism. She was more than one could want in a best friend, and between her amazing advice or sense of fashion, there was never a dull moment.

Unlike a majority of the students, Alice was genuine and welcoming, causing the two of you to grow close as friends. It made you feel like high school wasn’t so bad after all.

As you talked more and more with Alice, you often wondered why the rest of her family was so reserved. They rarely interacted with any one else who didn’t share the last name ‘Cullen’. Alice, though, was the exception, having branched out to you.

It seemed that being friends with Alice was something that was a package deal because on occasion, she’d bring along her boyfriend Jasper. You didn’t question their family dynamic as Alice had already explained in simplest terms who they were. It was a much better definition than what Jessica had told you and the rest at that table on the first day. Looking back, it was more petty gossip than it was useful information.

For the first summer, you didn’t see much of Alice and rather texted her much more. You’d invite her over, but it appeared that they were on a long family vacation that summer. It was then that you truly realized that you knew nothing about Alice, let alone the Cullens, aside from what you had been told at school.

There was something that constantly affected Alice’s decision making, along with her siblings, but you didn’t yet know that factor, and you wouldn’t for a while. Instead, you let your mind consume the harsh option that Alice wasn’t exactly the person you thought she was. Maybe she really was just like the rest of the Forks High students.

Fortunately, your fears were consoled that next school year.

After much consideration, Alice eventually invited you over to her house where you officially met the rest of the Cullens. Edward, Emmett, Rosalie, and Jasper acted so much differently than they did at school in the way that they even acted at all. Normally, they would just go through the school day rarely interacting with any one or anything else but themselves. It made you curious as to why they weren’t like this at school. They seemed to be such lovely people so why would they be so monotonous for eight grueling hours of the day.

You were able to see where they got those characterful values from. Well, more so who.

Dr. Carlisle Cullen, their adoptive father who looked too young to be a father at all and was so perfect that he must’ve been a hallucination.

Since that moment three years ago, you’d gone over almost every other weekend to do whatever extravagant thing Alice had planned for you. She hadn’t had a real friend in so long that she wanted to make up for all the missed time.

Over the course of time, the man, who you knew only as Dr. Cullen, had caught your eye. His compassionate mannerism and old fashioned style was something that just seemed to make you fall head over heels. At the mere sight of Dr. Cullen, the heat of your cheeks would make itself known and you wanted nothing more than to slap some sense into yourself. Whenever he spoke, you shamefully latched onto every word, his voice ever so comforting. The small smile resting on his lips whenever he spoke to you added even more charm and there was no hope left for you. This man made you swoon and you were so embarrassed over the fact that he was the adoptive father of your best friend.

High school graduation arrived in no time and along with it a huge family secret. A family secret that wasn’t yours, but once again, relating to the Cullens.

The family revealed it at a dinner, which was a rare occasion, considering that you hadn’t ever really seen them eat. You came over to their house like any other visit, except this time, the inviting smell of a freshly cooked dinner greeted you at the door.

The lovely dinner and charming smiles were all just the calm before the storm. Playful conversation ceased and suddenly Carlisle was speaking on behalf of everyone at the table. In a matter of seconds, it went from ‘casual family dinner' to ‘game show questionnaire' that was borderline an interrogation with the lack of feedback you were receiving. None of the Cullens, not even Alice, would confirm or deny any inquiries that left your mouth, leaving you to your own judgment. It was almost like your speculation was crucial to ending the slew of questions.

Eventually, you drew up the conclusion that they were vampires. You said this with such lighthearted intent that you were waiting for the big joke until you scanned the tables and saw their emotionless expressions.

All that you could really remember was falling from your dinner chair with Carlisle, who was sitting right beside you, catching your fall before you became close friends with the hardwood floor.

Needless to say, it took a moment to process this information, but you still continued on with Alice and her family. They were still the same Cullens you had known since the beginning and a small sliver of their real life wasn’t going to change who they were to you.

A couple of months later, you were spending the night with Alice for the weekend. She wanted to go visit Seattle for the day and do some holiday shopping. You readily agreed, remembering that you had to get some gifts for your own family. Shopping with Alice was always an experience, but an entertaining time nonetheless.

You had gotten there Friday night as both you and Alice planned to leave the next morning. There was no point in leaving now as the stores had been closed for at least a couple of hours.

Walking in the living room, you saw Emmett and Rosalie thoroughly invested in a comedy on tv. You had invited Rosalie to go shopping, but long hours with Alice in a store was not an activity for the less patient and she knew this. Edward was apparently missing from the scene, but Jasper, who was standing afar, greeted you and said that he was out with Bella. Jasper had finally loosened up around you, and after the family’s confession, you understood why he looked so uncomfortable all the time. The willpower these people had astonished you.

Alice had disappeared after letting you in and it wasn’t until she returned with Dr. Cullen in tow, that you truly noticed she was gone. You bashfully greeted the doctor to which he returned with his signature smile that could make you melt.

“I know this is bad timing, (y/n),” Alice walked to stand beside you, “But I have to go hunt, as do my siblings. You’ll stay here with Carlisle. He doesn’t need to go with us right now and we can't leave you alone.” By the end, the petite vampire was smirking and you jokingly scowled at her little plan. She knew of your silly crush on Carlisle and would relentlessly tease you about it, as a best friend would.

Before you could even answer, Emmett, Rosalie, Jasper, and Alice were out of the room without so much as a peep. You shook your head at Alice’s sneakiness, forgetting for a second that a certain someone was left with you.

“How about I make you some dinner, (y/n)?”

The way he said your name was something you could never handle. It just rolled off his tongue like any other word would, but with the hint of his accent, it sounded so lovely.

“I don’t mean to be a nuisance. Dr. Cullen.”

Already flustered with the whole situation, the last thing you wanted was to bother Dr. Cullen any more than you thought you’d already done.

As if he could read minds, the blonde stopped in his tracks to face you. “Please, call me Carlisle and you are never an inconvenience, (y/n). Besides, I’ve already hunted so I’m more than happy to be here with you.”

Carlisle, being kind as usual, shouldn’t have said such words because your brain was currently going into a frenzy as his thoughtfulness. If it was possible, your heart must’ve been beating faster than what would be considered healthy for someone actively working out.

You weren’t able to find the words, but instead able to offer what you hoped was an endearing grin.

In the kitchen, Carlisle searched the desolate fridge in hopes of finding some food. The kitchen and its appliances were more of decor than they ever were useful.

After a minute or two, Carlisle closed the freezer door of the fridge, a pack of steak in his hand.

“It seems steak will have to do tonight.”

You shot him a pleased look. “You can’t go wrong with steak.” Famous last words.

While you insisted on cooking your own food, Carlisle returned the same persistence and eventually you gave in.

The two of you carried on a conversation while he cooked. Talking with him seemed so natural that for a moment, you weren’t nervous about talking to this man.

Carlisle plated the steak and brought it before you, an excited look painted on your face. He sat down beside you and eagerly waited to see how the steak turned out. At first, you felt a bit bad that he wasn’t going to eat anything, especially after all the trouble he had gone through.

“Carlisle, are you sure you’re fine? It just feels so wrong eating in front of you like this!”

He chuckled, quickly placing his hand on your own to reassure you. “I’m fine, truly. I just hope it’s edible.”

You grabbed the steak knife, jokingly rolling your eyes at his statement. Upon cutting into the steak, an unpleasant rush of cow blood came out revealing that the steak was far from even being rare.

Immediately your plate was being scooped up and brought to the kitchen counter where you joined Carlisle.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, it’s been some time since I’ve cooked anything and it seems that I haven’t caught up with modern cooking principles.” Carlisle looked a bit sheepish at the moment and you couldn’t help the giggle that slipped from your lips. You weren't sure if it was the unintentional term of endearment or his adorable attempt at cooking. Either way, Carlisle was relieved to see that you weren’t upset, but rather enjoying this moment.

You stepped up beside Carlisle at the stovetop, shoulders touching as you reached across for the seasonings. “Here, we should probably season the steak a bit and clean off the pan.”

As you continued to do your own thing and guide Carlisle in cooking, he carefully took each word of your advice.

“See, you did everything right, Carlisle. It was just the heat and time that threw off the doneness of the steak, a bit.” Your words ended with a small twinkle as you turned to face the man who’d been so intently watching. He seemed to be so entranced at the moment… and by you.

It was like time was frozen and everything moved in slow motion, something you’d only see in a cheesy movie scene, except you were living it. Suddenly, life sped up and Carlisle’s cold hand was cupping your face and bringing you in for a kiss. You were happy that this was how you’d “confess” your love to Carlisle because words weren’t exactly your strong spot given the circumstances.

You two stayed lip locked for the longest moment in time, just pure bliss. It seemed like the kiss would never end until the smell of burnt oil hit your nose. Carlisle could feel you smiling against his lips and you began to peep out a small laugh.

“I think we overcooked this one a little too much.”

a/n: i’m sorry if this is cringe-worthy, i wrote this at 12:30 am. i swear it will get better lol i just need to stop writing at ungodly hours of the night--

#carlisle cullen #carlisle x reader #carlisle cullen x reader #twilight carlisle #carlisle cullen fanfiction #twilight #twilight fanfiction

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bucky-bucket-barnes · 3 years

Text

moving on

Summary: After Bucky had been missing for a year, you had presumed him dead. Time passed, yet you seemed unable to move on from his death. That was until a familiar face came to your doorstep one winter night.

Pairing: bucky barnes x civilian!reader

Warnings: angst, arguing, crying, fluff, swearing, mentions of death

Word Count: 2.6k words

Italicized sections indicate flashbacks.

365 days since you had last seen him. It was December 20th and you and Bucky had been invited to a holiday party Tony had thrown at the tower. Parties were never really your things, but in an effort to get your stubborn fiance out of the house more, you went. The night was filled with warmth and promise of brighter days to come. Bucky hadn’t been called out to fight in exactly 3 months (you knew because you had it marked on your kitchen calendar in big red letters). Bucky had promised he’d never go on another mission again. It would be just you and him until the end of the line. It was supposed to be just you and him until the end of the line.

As everyone sat around opening their festively wrapped presents, Tony left the room to take a phone call. At the time, no one thought much of this brief interaction and continued with their celebration. How naive. As Nat was opening the poorly made hat you knitted for her, Tony came back into the room, his face pale and eyebrows knotted in a worried expression.

“Y/N, you have to go,” he urged, grabbing your coat from the rack to hand to you.

“Tony, whatever you gotta say, you can say it in front of-,” Wanda reasoned with a smile in a fruitless attempt to keep everyone’s spirits high.

“I’m afraid not,” he answered coldly.

You looked over to Bucky, searching for some sort of answer, but all in return he could offer was a look of similar confusion.

“It was lovely having you over, but now you have to go home. I’ll have Happy drive you home.”

You and Bucky both awkwardly stood up from your cozied position on the couch and went to retrieve your possessions before leaving.

“Buck, I think you should stay for this one,” Steve said.

In response, Bucky shook his head and took your hand and responded, “I told Y/N that last time was my final mission. I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.”

“Bucky, I think it’s great, truly, that you and your girlfriend have time to play pretend and act like our jobs aren’t to protect this little thing known as the Earth, but now’s not the time. I’m sorry, but it looks like your promise wasn’t for shit,” Tony replied sharply. He and Bucky never had the greatest relationship, but even for him, that was a bit rude.

“Hey, now let’s not lose our heads here. Bucky said no,” Steve retorted, walking over to Tony, asserting his dominance with an intense glare.

You had no idea what was happening, but you knew it wasn’t good. The last few missions the Avengers have more than respected Bucky’s decision to retire, to live as normal a life as the circumstances allowed. Though, deep down you knew it was only a matter of time before the world needed him.

---

“But I need you more Buck,” you pleaded. Bucky always came home a little more bruised than he had left, but this was too much. He could hardly move without groaning in pain this time.

“Bucky, when you gave me this ring, you made a promise that you’d come home to me. That we were committed to each other. How many more late nights am I going to spend wondering if you’re okay? How many more times am I going to have to sleep alone for days on end without a clue as to where the hell you are? How many, Bucky?” Tears were pooling in your eyes. You were so angry at him, but you refused to let him see you cry. No, not this time. You were putting your foot down once and for all.

“Y/N you’re being selfish! You think I’d much rather be with you instead of some dark hotel room being hunted? You think I don’t want to be holding you every night? I can’t give you normal because what we have isn’t normal. I’m not normal and you knew that the day we met,” his voice began to expand, slowly evolving into a roar.

“Do you know how many people I’ve killed,” his voice broke and his eyes began to water. “I now have a chance to do better, to be better. I can help save lives, Y/N. What I’ve done weighs on me every night,” he spoke, his voice becoming a humbled whisper. “Every time I go out with that group of idiots, I-I feel like I’m one step closer to-to- fuck I don’t know. But it makes me feel good, doll”

All traces of anger had left his face, all that remained was a melancholy expression. He moved towards you and pulled you into an embrace, nuzzling his face into your neck. You wrapped your arms tightly around his waist. You hated arguing with Bucky. He never stayed mad at you, he couldn’t.

Tears now slowly leaked from your eyes, following the curve of your face all the way to your chin where they fell. He rubbed your back slowly in circles, taking you all in.

“Bucky,” you begged, “I love you more than anything.” Your voice remained in a shaky whisper. “But I can’t keep doing this. We can’t keep doing this. It’s tearing us apart and-”

He pulled back and quickly interjected, “I’m done then. No more Avengers. No more missions, no more stakeouts, no more bad guys, just you and me, doll. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for calling you selfish and I’m sorry for all the shit you’ve had to put up with.” He gingerly placed his right hand on your face, cupping it lovingly. With his metal arm, he took one of your hands and gently kissed your knuckles. “I promise you,” he said, placing your hand on his stubbled cheek, then moving his flesh hand to rest on top of it. He meant it too.

---

You held Bucky’s hand and looked into his bright blue eyes. You could see that he didn’t want to leave you again. Whatever was happening was serious and you both knew he should go along.

“It’s okay, Bucky,” you cooed softly to him, “You could never really leave me. Not for good.”

He opened his mouth to detest and you interrupted him with a pleading Bucky, no. You knew if he objected, that’s all it would take for you to fold. For tonight, the world needed Bucky more than you needed him. Again. He responded with an understanding nod and gently pressed his lips to yours.

“I’ll be back before you can even miss me,” he smiled, dread resounding in his voice.

“I know, Bucky,” you replied, laughing in spite of yourself in a vain attempt to stop the tears from violently escaping.

Even in that moment, you both knew he was lying. Happy took you home that night. It wasn’t the first time you had crawled into bed without Bucky. You had spent many nights without his warmth, but that night felt more unforgiving than usual. For hours, you tossed and turned, occasionally reaching out for your fiance who was supposed to be on the other side. Alas, he was never there.

The days went by slowly. A week in, you were worried, but nothing out of the normal. When he could, Bucky still found ways to let you know he was alright, whether through friends or a personal call. Two weeks in and the calls came less frequently. Nat who was usually able to update you on his whereabouts had gone radio silent. Three weeks in and no one reached out. You searched for answers yourself, but they seemed content to hide themselves away. Three weeks and two days and you got a call from Nat finally. It was 4 A.M. in the morning, but that didn’t matter, you never slept well when Bucky was away anyways. A rush of relief engulfed you as you picked up the phone.

There were no small casualties exchanged this time, Nat didn’t even say hi. It was Bucky. He had been missing for a week. Nobody knew when they should call you. Nobody knew how to call you. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for one of the Avengers to be M.I.A. for a few days, but Bucky couldn’t be located. A wave of nausea immediately fell over you.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. Are. . . are you okay?” Of course, you weren’t. She was just trying to help, but at that moment no words could console you. You hung up the phone and sat in your bed just thinking. Replaying the last time you saw him. Less than a month ago he was in your arms, the heat of his body pressed against yours. Less than a month ago you two were eating cereal from the box for dinner because neither of you wanted to do the dishes. Less than a month ago you two had stayed up until sunrise talking about getting a cat. Less than a month ago you were his doll.

Two weeks later, everyone returned except Bucky. You planned the funeral within a week. There was no body to bury, so you just had a service. None of it felt real. You’d always worried about him going out on these dangerous missions, but you never thought there’d be a time where he wouldn’t come home. At first, everyone visited the gravestone every day. Weeks passed and it was only you Steve and Nat. Months passed and only you and Steve were there every day. After six months, it was just you and the piece of stone that was supposed to represent your future husband. By the time seven months came around, it was all too much to bear. You couldn’t keep going, it was driving you mad. Your visits stopped, but that didn’t mean you stopped dreaming about your soldier.

You stopped talking to the Avengers all but Steve and Nat. You’d trashed your phone after seven months, only keeping a few contacts. If they wanted to talk to you, they would have to make the trip to see you. In all honesty, you were at a point where sometimes you didn’t even answer the door. Tony couldn’t speak to you out of guilt. He’d never admit it, but he felt like this was all his fault. He should’ve let you two go home. They needed Bucky, but Tony knew what it was like to have someone waiting at home for you. Despite what everyone told you, you kept the ring on. You knew no one else was ever going to compare to Bucky. Whether you were together or not, he was yours and you were his until the bitter end.

It was now December 20th, exactly a year since you last saw Bucky. You sat at your kitchen counter, playing around with your food on your plate. Tonight, you had no appetite. You refused to turn on the TV because it felt almost disrespectful. The whole world had moved on, time kept pushing forward and you were stuck. All the holiday decorations were too joyful and the gently white snow that floated down outside was just outright offensive. How dare the rest of the world rejoice when Bucky is gone. You threw your plate in the sink, not bothering to scrape the food off. What’s the point?

Instead of celebrating, you played with your ring. The day Bucky proposed he looked like he was going to pass out. He later told you he thought you were going to say no. He thought you’d find someone more stable, more normal. Funnily enough, you could never say no to Bucky. You didn’t want anyone else, you wanted him, you reassured Bucky constantly. No matter what, you’d always come back to him. Maybe soulmates didn’t exist, but the force between you and Bucky was electric. It was once in a lifetime and nothing was going to come in the way of that.

You heard a gentle knock at the door. Groaning, you got up. Steve probably. He always seemed really worried about you. It was sweet, but sometimes you wished he’d leave you to wallow in your own self-pity and loathing.

As you opened the door you announced to the company outside, “Steve, I appreciate that you drove out here and all, but really I’m-”

The air in your lungs escaped, leaving you speechless. The snow fell around him in a veil of heavenly light. His hair now cascaded down to about his shoulders. His face looked worn and tired. His left arm was an unfamiliar silver and black color combination. Yet, that pair of baby blue eyes were still the same kind pair you had always known. You froze. This can’t be him, this can’t be him, he’s dead, we had a funeral, this can’t be him.

“Y/N?” he asked, looking just as shocked to see you in your own home.

“This- this- what?” you didn’t trust yourself, you hadn’t trusted anything in a long time.

“Who. . who are you?” your voice cracked. You couldn’t chance it not being the Bucky you knew. You wouldn’t let yourself mourn him again, it would be too much.

“I know this is a lot, but it’s me doll,” he said, taking your hand. “I came straight here. They found me in Siberia and had me in the hospital for a week. I know this is a lot, but I’m back. I’m here, Y/N. I wanted to tell you sooner, but no one could get in contact with you.”

You stood wide eyed in silence. This couldn’t be real. Could it?

“Y/N, it’s me. Y/N, I have loved you for the past 5 years. I know how you murmur in your sleep. I know the way your heart beats and I know that you play with your shirt when you're nervous. You can’t stand bad drivers and you love when it rains when the sun is still out. I know the way you laugh when you’re trying not to cry and I have missed everything about you,” he confessed, water streaming down his face as he smiled sadly.

“Bucky!” you said, throwing your arms around his neck.

You held each other in the frigid night for what felt like hours. He kissed you passionately, taking in every inch, every crevice, every curve he hadn’t seen in a year. You ran your hands through his soft brown hair and traced the curves of his back as you locked lips. It was moments like these that you wish you could frame forever. It was passion like this that poet’s dreamt about and artists desperately tried to remake into paintings. But nothing was like the real thing. Even after a year apart, you still both recognized every inch of the other. Sure, maybe there were a few more scars and cuts here and there, but what mattered remained all the same.

You two retreated inside from the cold and he explained everything. Hydra had formed a new base in Russia and had apparently taken a small school hostage in an attempt to make super-soldier children. The Avengers got all the kids to safety eventually, but they took Bucky. They stripped him of any form of communication, his metal arm, and moved him to another location in Siberia, deep in the mountains. For months they had tried to bring back the Winter Soldier. All their attempts were in vain, though. The Winter Soldier had died and all that was there was just Bucky. After months of experimenting, the Wakandas were able to track his location via the vibranium arm Hydra had so carelessly left in the same facility as Bucky.

“Doll, I’m never leaving you again. I’m with you until the end of the line,” he promised in between kisses.

“I know, Bucky, I know,” you smiled.

At that moment, you knew he was here to stay.

Thank y'all for all your support! I'm still a new writer and am open to all constructive criticism/ suggestions. Thank you for reading :)

My masterlist.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n

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gucciwins · 3 years

Text

off the record

a small mishap and puppies

Word count: 4797

A/N: hello friends! i hope you're enjoying bel and harry's story so far. i am enjoying writing it and this part might have one of my favorite scenes i've written for them. do not fret there is more to come <3

please remember to reblog and let me know what you thought!

warnings: slight angst

love on tour series // previous part

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

It's been a few cities since you woke up alone. Harry liked having you close and spending time with you. He especially liked knowing he'd wake up and you'd be the first thing he saw.

Well, not this time.

You needed a moment alone after finding out that Harry's tour would no longer be ending in Los Angeles and instead be going on for an extra week through the day before Thanksgiving.

You weren't upset he added a new show because he did have to reschedule; you just didn't like finding out online when he clearly knew about it for some time. New work for you is not starting until the new year, and he happily assumed you'd be okay with joining, which you would be if he talked out. You don't always spend Thanksgiving with Naomi, but the plan this year had been set already.

As you lay in bed knowing you have to get up for your interview, you think back to your conversation with Harry.

A day off to stay in and sleep. That's all you wanted to do. No amount of begging would get you out of bed from watching movies and napping the day away. The constant travel has thrown you off, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy it.

Harry had told you he had work to do with Jeff and that he'd be back later so that both of you could have a late lunch together. You told him you'd be here, gesturing to the queen-sized bed you've been sharing, the vacant room across from you unused.

You had just finished another episode of Derry Girls, a favorite show of yours that you liked rewatching. Your phone had started going off a few minutes ago, and honestly, you wanted to ignore it, but something told you to check.

Naomi

Thanksgiving in Arkansas?

Arkansas, what did she mean by that. You'd be going to her this year, unlike last year where you spent it in France alone with your crew who did not celebrate even less when in another country.

You go onto Instagram hoping that'd give you answers, and the answer is looking at you with a post from Harry's team stating the rescheduled Houston show and a new show in Little Rock, Arkansas. That is what Naomi meant with her text.

You sat there on the hotel bed, feeling confused. Harry clearly knew what he was announcing today but did not bring it up once. He did not ask if you would be okay with an extra week past Los Angeles as he had initially told you. You weren't mad he had more shows; no, of course not you were proud of him. His tour was so loved by all, and if he could give it to others, who were to say anything.

As somebody with family expecting you home for the first time in months, that was something you needed to wrap your head around that you would not be seeing them until after the holiday because you wouldn't dare try to get a flight during that week knowing the prices were spiked up three times their average prices. Thanksgiving week was the worst week to travel, and you've learned that the hard way a few years ago.

You decided to text Naomi back.

Y/N

would it be weird to say i just found out? xx

Naomi

Very.

He didn't bring it up?

Y/N

no. xx

Naomi

You're upset.

Y/N

yeah, but we'll talk it out. xx

Naomi

So I should let my mom know not to set your place this year.

Y/N

Yes, save me the heartbreak. xx

Naomi

You owe me.

It seems there was only one thing left to do which was wait for Harry to come back.

"Bel, I've put in our order for lunch already. I got you the sandwich you had wanted." His voice rang through the room as you sat on the edge of the bed, your bag packed hidden from his view.

"Harry."

He stops looking up at you, hearing a different tone in your voice.

"You alright?"

"Need to have a chat," as you pat the bed for him to join you.

He does so quickly, taking your hand in his and resting it on his lap. "Course, angel."

"Saw the news for Houston. Glad you could reschedule."

You see him relax as he sees what you want to discuss, "yeah, thanks to Jeff. Really had to work back and forth with them. Oh, and he was able to get a new show added."

"New show in Little Rock."

He has not picked up on the tone you're carrying, "yes, going to be another week on the road, isn't that great."

"It's the day before Thanksgiving."

"I know, but the crew was understanding and will be going home after at the end of the week."

The crew knew; it felt like you were the only one who didn't.

"Did everyone know?"

"Well yeah, most. We discussed it as a team and got their input."

You nod, "you didn't let me know."

He shrugs, "I didn't think it was necessary. You said you'd be around for the end of the tour."

"Doesn't mean I want to find out about new tour dates with everyone else in the world."

"Wait, are you mad?"

"I'm upset. You asked me to join you on tour and didn't let me know it was extended so close to a holiday I celebrate."

Harry's face falls a bit, letting his defensiveness fall. "I assumed you'd be there."

"Yeah, you did. I would if we talked about it. It's an awful week to travel, and there's no guarantee I'd make it home that night."

"We will get you a private plane."

"That's not the problem." Your voice is exhausted, not at all wanting to argue about this.

"Then what is it?"

"That you chose not to talk with me, you chose to leave me out. I'm not part of your team, but as your partner, I thought you'd trust me to talk about."

"I trust you."

"Your actions prove otherwise."

"Bel," his voice soft. "I'm sorry."

You grimace, knowing it might be too soon, "I'm going to stay in the other room."

"What?" He shouts, "no, don't."

"It's not up for debate."

"But we didn't clear this up."

"We did, we addressed the problem, and I'm asking for space." You state, removing your hand from his hold and going for the bag that has your items.

"Space okay. When will we talk?"

"After my interview."

"Okay,"

"Thank you."

He nods, no longer looking at you.

"Harry," your voice softly gets him to look up at you. He raises his head, and you see his sad green orbs, "we're fine. I promise."

"Okay, Bel."

Getting ready today had been lonely. Harry always joined you in brushing your teeth together, bumping your hip, letting you know he'd be going to spit first in a warning. At first, you found it odd, but now alone, you missed it. He'd pick out your clothes only to tell him you'd wanted to dress a bit warmer, and he'd happily choose something else. You'd have coffee sent up as that was how he liked starting his mornings while you stuck to tea. A warm cuppa to bring a slight feeling of home back.

It's the quietness in the room, it was either the television, Harry's music, or his voice that filled the room, and now you had none of that, but you didn't worry because you'd talk to Harry later today and all would be well.

Your makeup was done, minimal but enough to highlight your features, and a pretty blouse was on smiling at yourself in the mirror; you were ready for the interview.

The laptop you always carry was set up on the desk the room provided, and you sat in the stiff chair that seemed to never have been used.

Viola had told you the interview was with Glamour Magazine. Emerson had sent you a vague outline of what they would be asking. You took a deep breath pushing away all you were feeling, and centered yourself on the interview.

As soon as the interview connected, there was a brief introduction with the two interviewers. You introduced yourself, not recognizing either of the women, a bit surprised seeing as you've worked with Glamour before but decided not to question it.

"Y/N Belmonte, an honor to interview you." Grace, with fiery red hair, begins.

"Thank you for having me." You reply truthfully.

Celia, with black hair and olive skin that reminded you of your father, officially began the interview. "We know you're used to Flor interviewing you, but she is in Europe and couldn't make it work. She trusted only us, and we promise to treat you with respect. Why don't you tell us where you are? Looks quite fancy. "

You respected that, how honest they were being, and honestly, it relaxed you a bit.

The interview had been going smoothly, each girl following up on questions from your answers. It was easy to laugh and be honest with them as they asked about directors you've worked with, your favorite show to watch, and things you were looking forward to.

"Honesty hour," Celia begins, "I'm Mexican-American, and to be able to look up at the big screen and see one of us representing who we are is an honor. Even better that you're not cast in stereotypical roles." She clears her throat, offering you a smile.

"Celia, thank you. It's an honor to be able to do what I love. I've had my family's support from the start, and I wouldn't be where I am without them. My dad used to say, "aprende del pasado, vive en el presente y trabaja para el futuro." You feel your throat tighten up, but take a deep breath, "meaning learn from the past, live in the present, and work for the future. It's always stuck with me that I'm part of history, that others will look back at what we've all done, and I hope my impact isn't just in film, but to the younger generation that you can reach any goal you set your mind to."

Grace and Celia are both wiping tears as you finish, and it makes you grin because your words touch them, and you hope they touch others who read or see this as well.

"I can proudly say I've never cried in an interview until today," Grace pouts.

"I wish I could hug you both. It's been a while since I've had a heartfelt interview." You tell them honestly. "When in Los Angeles, lunch on me."

"Heard it here first everyone, Miss Belmonte wants to talk some more with us."

You laugh, "all off the record, of course." That causes them to join in the laughter as well.

The interview continues, and you know it's close to the end and hold your breath, waiting for the questions you were not looking forward to.

"I know, I know you must be asked constantly, but we got to know. How is it being able to call Harry a friend?" Grace asks.

You laughed because they surprised you. You expected them to ask if you were dating but no, not at all. "He's wonderful. Truly one of my closest friends, and I'd trust him with all my secrets."

"Secrets do tell." Celia leans in closer to her screen.

You shake your head, "secrets stay secrets."

"Fair enough," Grace replies.

"What's your favorite thing about him?"

"That…he cares about everyone. He has no bad intentions for anyone, and although I think he may not be the best communicator, he always works to be better."

Both women are looking at you with a soft look in their eyes, and you're not sure if you overshared or not, but it's too late.

"Off the record, are you dating?"

"Off the record," you repeat. "We are not."

"Bummer." Grace shrugs back in her chair. "I've been shipping you since you went to go see him in New York."

You chuckle, "I'll be sure to pass the message along when I see him at the end of the week."

"Oh, you're going?"

"I am, off the record."

They agree in unison, offering you one last goodbye before signing off. You shut your laptop and relax back into your seat. You check the time seeing it was twelve o'clock.

Jeff

Car downstairs, waiting for you. You can leave your bags in the car, and they'll take them over to the bus.

Y/N

thank you! heading over now x

Jeff

Meet us in the conference room

That's strange, but you choose not to question it. Instead, you pack up all of your items, then pop over to Harry's room and find that it's all cleaned out. Including the book and sweater, you had left.

Time to head over.

Arriving at the arena, you decided it was pretty but intimidating as you didn't know your way around the venue, not having a tour as you usually did when arriving with Harry.

The driver dropped you off, and there was a security at the back entrance where you flashed your lane yard, and he happily let you in. As the door closed behind you, the venue seemed to expand.

You walked a few steps hoping to find a worker or someone from the crew but nothing. Walking forward, you began to grow nervous and were about to call for Jeff when you saw a worker with a black shirt saying security.

"Excuse me," you shouted as they were walking away.

"Yes," the person turned around, and their smile dropped. "You're Y/N Belmonte."

You nodded, "I'm here with the tour, uh do you think you can direct me to the conference room."

"Oh, sure."

"Thank you, Carla." Reading the name tag on them.

"No problem." You walk, making polite conversation, but Carla seems a bit star-struck to say more than a few words. "We're here."

The door was closed, and you shot her one last smile, thanking her before walking in.

Opening the door, the last thing you expected was to see most of the crew surrounded by puppies. The smile on your face was instant. You wanted to sink to the floor as they all surrounded you.

Jeff met your eyes from across the room, a sleepy puppy in his hold as he cocked his head to the couch where Harry was sitting next to Mitch. You nodded, making your way over to a spot in front of Harry, and decided that would be good enough.

Harry's eyes were following you as you greeted everyone making your way across to him. You paused in front of him where he was now standing, gesturing you to sit, but you shook your head, sinking to the floor right by his feet.

"Don't want the seat, Bel?"

"Closer to the puppies here."

"Interview, okay?"

You hum, look up at him as he's leaning his elbows on his knees. "Yes, better than expected."

"Good."

You lean back against the couch, rest your head on Harry's knee. You miss the shock on his face but don't miss his hand caressing your hair for a second. There's a tiny puppy that got up and began trotting its way over to you, small little paws and floppy ears making you grin.

"Hi buddy," you reach your hand out for the brown pup to smell; it does so before reaching its paws into your lap. You lift the puppy up and cradle it as if it were a baby, and rub its belly. "Aren't you the sweetest thing?" You giggle, bringing it up to your face giving it a few kisses, then get a few in return on your chin. A few more come over drawn by your laugh. Soon there's one in your arm and two laying down on your stretched-out feet.

"Think Harry's got competition," Niji says with a laugh as he points his phone in your direction, capturing the moment, and you hope he sends that to you later.

"I've got lots of love to give." You look up at Harry, smiling at him, and he nods in understanding.

The puppy you're cradling has settled in your hold and has closed his eyes. You awe at the sight and turn to look at Harry carefully raise your hands, "H, look, he's sleeping."

Harry feels like his heart could burst, looking at you full of joy as you're surrounded by all the young pups. He lifts his phone up to you, asking silently if he could take your photo. You nod and offer him a big grin raising the pup higher to come out in the frame. He smiles down at the picture, making it his lock screen. Your body is now turned, facing him a bit more. "Likes you, Bel."

"I want one."

He chuckles, "we can't tour with a dog, lovie."

You frown, "that's sad."

"Yeah, it is. Bet it'd be fun."

You laugh, "maybe."

Everyone spends another hour with the dogs before you head to have lunch. You didn't realize how hungry you were until you smelled the food as soon as you were in. You spotted a veggie wrap and claimed that as your own. The chatter was loud, from everyone but you realized Harry was quieter than usual and knew you were overdue for a conversation.

"Bel," Harry approaches you as you throw away your trash, "can we talk?"

"Yeah, H. Let's go." You allow him to lead the way to his dressing room, making sure to pay attention to each turn you make so that you'd be able to find it later.

He lets you walk in first, locking the door behind him. You both take seats on the couch. The distance between you is more prominent than you'd like.

The silence fills the room, and it's stiff. Harry clears his throat, reaching his hand out for you before bringing it back to his lap.

"Bel," he begins. "I'm sorry." His gaze is intense, but you don't dare look away and nod for him to go on. "It was rude of me to assume. I—I know you have others that need you, and well, I don't celebrate, but it doesn't excuse how insensitive I was to not talk with you. I apologize."

You reach out your hand, placing it on top of his, "thank you."

"You can end in Los Angeles and know I won't be upset."

"H-"

"-it would be fair, seeing as that's what I asked from the start."

"I'm going to see this through with you." You assure him.

"You are?" He says, surprised.

"Of course. I was upset when I found out after everyone else did."

"I-"

You keep going, "I understand it's work but remember you asked me to join."

Harry nods, "I did, and I'm happy you're here. I promise not to do it again."

"Good, I forgive you. Now let's take this lesson and remember to communicate because that's how we'll get through everything by hearing each other out."

"Okay, darling." He leans in, planting a kiss on your cheek. "I got you an apology treat."

"Did you?"

"Yes," he stands up, practically buzzing. "Do you want to wait or follow me?"

"I'll follow."

Harry takes your hand, walking you out of the room and down back to the kitchen of Sarah's kitchen, and you feel like you're running at the pace of his walking. He ushers you both into the freezer pulling out a box and presenting it to you. It's a box of Helados.

Your mouth drops, not having seen this in quite some time. "Shut up, you didn't."

He looks sheepish, "my apology gift, I hope I'm officially forgiven."

You nod, holding the box close. "You got me, Helados. These are my favorite. You remembered."

"Course I did, remember all the stories you've told me."

You can't remember when you told him it could have been in passing or in the quiet nights traveling on the bus or after some late night fun. Helados are your favorite ice cream that you'd eat on the porch step with your grandfather. On good days it was a strawberry, and on bad ones, it was mango, and on random days he'd put his hand behind his back and make you choose one of two, always a new flavor. It's your favorite treat that brings you home, and the fact that Harry remembered brings you close to tears.

You rush into Harry's arm, causing him to stumble back; it's a small gesture but one that means everything. He's listening, and he's trying, and that's all you could ever ask for.

"Thank you."

"Course, love. I am sorry."

"All forgiven."

You rip the box open and grab a strawberry one offering the box to Harry. He grabs a mango one. You hand him back the box, so he can put it away.

Harry is quick to remove the wrapper and have a taste, and he enjoys it. "It's sweet."

You nod, "sweet enough."

"Let me try yours." He pouts, and who are you to say no. You can tell he enjoys the strawberry more but will not be trading with him. Nope, you're going to enjoy this treat.

You spend the next half hour standing there talking and eating your ice cream until both your phones ring, meaning it is time to head to soundcheck.

"Shall we go?"

"We shall." He beams as you walk down the hall hand in hand.

You're good, and that's all you could ever want.

"Guapo," you whistle for as he does a spin for you, showing off tonight's look. Harry is dressed in a champagne-colored metallist shirt, black wide-leg trousers, matching suspenders, and leather boots. He looks insanely good, but Jeff trusted you to keep him on time today. Meaning you'd have to celebrate after.

"Thank you,"

"Harry?"

"Yes, love."

"How much Spanish do you understand? I know I don't speak it often, but you don't ask me what something means when I do."

Harry laughs, coming into your space where you're leaning against the mirror, trapping you in. "Well, I do know Italian, a bit of Japanese," he throws in with a wink. "But Italian and Spanish are a bit similar, don't you think? Wasn't it easy for you to learn Italian?"

"Yeah, but I was a kid. It's easier as a child. I'm not that good, decent if we're honest."

"Well, I don't ask because I assume their compliments or kind words," he leans in closer, noses touching, "or am I wrong?"

Your breath hitches, "not wrong."

"Guapo means," pausing, waiting for you to finish.

"Handsome."

"Tell me something else," he pressed a kiss to your nose.

"Amor,"

"Too easy, love."

"Me gusta tu sonrisa."

He moves his face down to press a kiss to your cheeks now. "I like…"

"Your smile. I like your smile."

You feel him grin against you, not pulling away to see that smile you adore.

"Te ves radiante." You feel his teeth graze your jaw, a gasp escaping you.

"Explain it to me, baby."

"You look radiant," you breathe out.

"Thank you."

“Estoy orgullosa de ti, mi estrella.”

Harry freezes, his lips pressed against your jaw. He moves his face up slowly until his eyes find yours. "Baby."

You've stumped him, knowing the one word he does recognize is 'estrella.' You reach your hand up and hold his face, pressing his lips against yours. It's fast and all-consuming, allowing yourself to get lost in him, lost in the feeling that washes over you, the feeling of comfort and passion.

You pull back, leaving him chasing your lips for more. "I'm proud of you, my star." His eyes shine as he takes in what you've said. "That's what I said."

Well, Harry isn't sure how to express his emotions, so he shows you, he connects your lips, and it's nothing but passion as he takes control, needing you to feel every emotion you make him feel: happy, lucky, grateful, shocked but overall loved and cared for.

"Thank you, angel."

You press a final kiss and push him back. "Now, it's time for you to take the stage, rockstar."

"Oh, I'm going to shine." He teases.

But he will because Harry was made to be on stage.

Tonight feels a little calmer, the cheers are loud, the crew is a bit more laid back, no one rushing around, and you wonder what set the new pace. You don't have enough time to question anyone seeing as the lights dim and the band begins the opening notes to Golden.

Tallulah pulls you for most of the night, dancing and singing each song with you. It's nice, and you have as much fun as usual. The most memorable part of the night was when Tommy and Luis came over and began going crazy during what makes you beautiful, laughing as the crowd sang the song's original version and not Harry's version. You doubt there'd be a crowd that got his version correct. You let yourself go and begin dancing around with these people that have become friends, good friends.

You understand what Harry says each night about being whoever we want to be in this room. To embrace yourself and love ourselves and those around us. Letting your guards down to be happy is scary, but it's welcomed, and this is the safest environment to do so. Dancing and laughing with everyone makes you feel part of something bigger than yourself. You know that each person who came here tonight will go home and reflect on their favorite moments or interactions, but they will never be able to describe the feeling because it's something you have to experience for yourself.

As Harry begins his closing speech of the night, you all stand linked together, taking in the moment and appreciating the lyrics of these songs that you all relate to differently, but ultimately know that no matter what happens, you'll get through it and you'll be alright. You notice Luis and Jeff break off from the end and stand in front of you. You don't say anything, still having a good view of Harry as he sings the final notes before being taken under.

"There were cameras on us. You can't be spotted, not when you're supposed to be in New York."

You nod, thankful Jeff was looking out for you. "Thank you."

"Course, we take care of each other, plus Viola would have my head." Jeff shudders, imagining facing her wrath.

The encore goes off smoothly, and soon the stage is empty. Luis and Tommy have long run backstage to meet Harry. You stroll backstage, hidden behind Jeff and Tallulah, until you're in the safety of backstage.

There's loud laughter coming from the dressing room, and it's not Harry's you stop by to see. Everyone is hugging and complimenting on how well they did tonight. Harry is holding Mitch close, talking enthusiastically, and if you didn't know Mitch, you'd think he was uninterested, but there's a grin on his face.

Harry rushes over to you as soon as he sees you walk in, "Love, what'd you think?" He presses a kiss to your temple.

You embrace him in a hug, holding him tight despite how wet and sweaty he is, "fuiste fenomenal."

He giggles, squeezing your hips, "I know that one, phenomenal."

“Smart, you are, mi estrella. You always put on a beautiful show."

Harry goes quiet, but his eyes tell you a different story; he's trying to tell you he does it for you, that each night he looks into the audience to find you and make you proud.

You met him halfway and pressed your lips against his. You wanted him to have no doubt you felt the same, that you'd continue to feel the same. Kissing Harry always made you lose sense of where you were, and it was one of the best feelings to get lost in. Harry pulled away, pecking your lips a final time with one look promising of more later. For now, you'd surround yourself with your favorite people. He moved over to where everyone was standing and quickly joined in on the conversation, swiftly making everyone laugh.

Tucked under Harry's arm, you look around you and take in all the conversation and the laughter. This is family, they've welcomed you, and you'll take it for as long as they have you, and if you're lucky, which you hope you will be, you'd never have to lose their friendship and love.

thank you for reading <3 i adore you

taglist: @alienorknight @harry-is-my-sunflower @myfavfanficsever @4hazza @springholland @michelleficrecs @harryismyfwend @evanjh @onlyamylee @golden-hoax @itsmycorneroftheinternet

part ten new york

#harry styles #harry styles writing #love on tour #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles stories #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles love on tour #harry styles x famous reader #love on tour: pittsburgh #lot: pittsburgh #smut #fluff #my writing #love on tour series

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starlightsearches · 2 years

Text

Mistletoe and Holly

Part 1 │Part 2│Part 3

Modern! Armitage Hux x Femme! Reader

Notes: Hello all! I gotta be honest, these last few months have not been awesome for me. The school year has been super tough, and I have not had nearly as much time or energy for writing as I wanted. I wasn't planning on doing anything for Christmas, since I didn't think I'd be able to finish it, but after seeing @cyantomatos incredible winter prompt list, and reading @girl-next-door-writes lovely 10 days of Huxmas, I couldn't not be in a Christmasy mood. This is what I came up with, and I'm super excited to share it with you. All three parts are written, and I'll be posting them every other day this week.

This is heavily inspired by girl-next-door-writes 10 days series, so if you like this even a little bit, PLEASE go and check out her stuff.

5. Chocolate / Jewelry / Cold from cyantomatos winter prompt list

Warnings: just language, fluff and some angst

“Is this really your house?”

Your eyes are wide, and bright with reflections of the white-yellow lights adorning every eave and branch of Brendol’s estate. Thick flecks of snow catch in your hair in a kind of makeshift crown, too cold to melt just yet.

“It’s my father’s,” Armitage answers without really answering. He’d never spent longer than a few weeks here after his father moved to America. They were miserable breaks away from various boarding schools, until he was old enough to elect to stay in the empty dormitories for the duration of Christmas. Curled up alone in the frozen picture windows with some monotonous morality tale from the library was still an improvement to the seemingly never-ending days locked in his father’s hallways, always awaiting some new torture disguised as celebration.

You put your hand out on his arm, urging him to stop, and the world goes quiet, absent his echoing footsteps and frosted breaths.

“You’re not royalty are you? If you’re in line for the throne you have to tell me.” There’s laughter in your voice—an inside joke after all the Hallmark movies you’d forced him to watch during long nights of dull casework.

Armitage decides to play along, albeit a bit more macabre. “Only if my father dies.”

It’s difficult to hide his smile as he treks on towards the door of the colossal estate, listening to the clack of your footfalls on the cleared cobblestone drive as you catch up, taking him by the arm.

He shouldn’t feel this way—overcome by such a luminous sensation every time you touch him, like he’s warming his hands by a fire. He reminds himself, over and over and over again, that you’re friends. Just friends. Work acquaintances, really.

Although, he knows that’s not really true either. Work acquaintances don’t agree to spend the holidays together. Work friends aren’t supposed to be your date to family Christmas parties.

Armitage sighs through his nose. It’s awfully cliche of him to be head over heels for his pretty paralegal, and it’s awfully depressing that you’ll never feel the same way for him.

You manage to reach the covered doorstep without incident, despite the thin sheen of ice and the treacherous height of your heels. He pauses for a moment, holding you back from knocking on the door just yet.

“I have something for you,” he says, reaching nervously into the inner pocket of his coat.

Armitage hadn’t been sure if he would give you the gift. He’d purchased it a month ago, but the receipt still sits folded crisply in his wallet. There were a few times he almost returned it, planning instead to buy something a little less insinuative—like a gift card, or fuzzy socks. He stopped himself each time, at the thought of you wearing it.

He places the dark jewelry box into your gloved hands, and you look up at him through your lashes with a smirk. “Isn’t it against the rules to open a gift on Christmas eve?”

“I thought you might want to put it on now.” He hopes you’ll attribute the rosiness in his cheeks to the wintry chill, and he watches intently as you pop the lid on the jewelry box. Your soft gasp turns to a cloud when it escapes your parted lips.

“Armitage,” you whisper, the tip of one finger brushing along the delicate chain, “it’s beautiful.”

His chest fills with pride, the tension finally releasing from his shoulders. It had been quite the gamble—buying you jewelry. He wanted something understated, classic. Something appropriate for the office, and not overtly romantic, but still personal. Something that would remind you of him.

You lift the necklace from the box, holding it up to the light, admiring the pearl pendant that hangs from it’s center.

“Will you help me put it on?”

He swallows hard, and takes it from your hands, along with the box, tucking the latter back into his pocket. You turn away from him, pulling the scarf from around your neck, faint goosebumps spreading across your skin now that it's been exposed to the frigid air.

His hands shake as he undoes the clasp, circling the chain around your neck, his gloved fingers brushing against the neckline of your coat. He can’t believe he manages to secure it on the first try.

“How does it look?”

You turn back to face him, patting your hair to make sure it’s still in place. It suits you perfectly—the chain sitting gracefully against your skin, the delicate pearl resting just below the hollow of your throat.

“Lovely,” he breathes. He’s not talking about the necklace.

The lack of light—or maybe it’s the cold—must be playing tricks on his mind, because he’s almost certain he can feel you leaning in towards him.

“Thank you.” Your voice is a whisper in the darkness.

“Don’t mention it.” He whispers back.

He can feel that he’s leaning in, now, too, and he catches himself, clearing the air with a cough. “It’s well deserved—for all the hard work you do.” Your eyes go wide, your gaze falling to your shoes.

Jesus. Had that been a moment between you? If it was, he'd managed to fuck it up spectacularly. Before he can let the weight of his failures register, he knocks loudly on the door, and it opens for him immediately.

You’re welcomed in by Brendol’s staff—two men who begin helping you both out of your coats and scarves and gloves before ushering them away as quickly as they can manage, and you’re left standing in the entryway in your party clothes.

It looks just as he remembers it. The tree takes up most of the enormous room, reaching practically to the ceiling, the star perched at the top so high that Armitage has to crane his neck to take it in. The entire thing is dripping with lights and ornaments, each bow weighed down with gold and silver bobbles the circumference of his hand. The rest of the space is equally festive—decked in garlands and ribbons, although they’re a little more tasteful. That must have been Maratelle’s doing—Brendol wouldn’t bother with those; no one would see them as a status symbol, unlike the tree.

Armitage restrains himself from rolling his eyes.

He’s about to say something to you, maybe make a wry comment about the overwhelming smell of pine, but he stops. You’re staring at the decor, lips parted, with an expression that could only be described as wonder.

Armitage softens. Without the thought of past misery, without all the ire he holds for his father, it’s like The Nutcracker come to life. A winter fairytale—the kind that children dream about, and probably adults as well, although a little more privately. It must be, in your eyes, the makings of a perfect Christmas.

He wishes he could feel that way, too.

Any possibility of that is immediately dashed into pieces—Brendol and Maratelle have walked into the room.

Unlike the house, his father looks much worse than he remembers. Gaunt, with bloodshot eyes and dark creases beneath them, Brendol hides his sneer behind a sip from his whiskey glass, and it’s clearly not his first of the night, given the way his hand shakes. Something must have happened to put him in such a sour mood on his favorite event of the year. Maybe one of the staff addressed him and forgot to add “sir” at the end. Or maybe he’s just now realized he can’t spend the next two days humiliating Armitage for coming to Christmas alone, again.

“Father,” Armitage offers him the barest form of greeting he thinks he can get away with, ushering you forward. With both Brendol’s eyes and yours on him, it’s become difficult to think, despite all his planning. He’s not sure whose expectations he wants most to meet.

He settles on an awkward grab at your shoulder, pulling you a little closer and then hesitating when you stiffen, like an estranged relative has forced you into an unwanted hug.

You move past his embarrassing stumble after your initial hesitation, stepping close against his side with a self-conscious laugh, your torso nestled against his, and the smell of your perfume in the air. He tries to continue without incident, despite the sudden lightheadedness he feels.

“This is—”

You practically lunge at his father, shaking Brendol’s hand with a jittery vigor just as he stutters out your name. Brendol manages a not-overtly offensive grunt in response—either too drunk or too stunned to admonish you for the perceived offense. When his gaze flits back to Armitage, though, his jaw is tense with rage.

Oh god—he should have prepared you for this. He had plenty of opportunities—in the office, on the couch at his apartment, eating your first meals of the day together late into the night. It just . . . it had never felt right. They were holy places when he was with you, and inviting the thought of Brendol felt like sacrilege.

And he didn’t necessarily see it as a problem if his family thought you were a couple, even if he hadn't said the words out loud.

Maratelle is slightly more polite during her own introduction, shaking your hand and offering Armitage a small nod. There’s never been any love between himself and Maratelle, but they can at least commiserate in the fact that they’re both forced to put up with Brendol.

She attempts to make pleasant conversation, asking about the drive and the weather, but every word said is overshadowed by Brendol’s stern glare. Armitage ushers you away soon after that, not wanting to spend a single second in the same room as his father if he’s not being forced to do so.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” you’re muttering the words under your breath, holding your face in both hands as he steers you towards the nearest waiter. Grabbing two glasses of champagne, he hands one to you, which you drink from immediately, staring at the ceiling like you’re hoping to be raptured, “I am so sorry.”

He almost chokes on his champagne, before righting himself, watching you incredulously. What could you be apologizing for?

“What?”

“I completely embarrassed you back there,” you respond, shifting your weight from foot to foot, looking anywhere but his eyes, “I was so nervous, and I wasn’t even thinking, and I just . . . I wanted them to like me.”

Your voice grows smaller with each word, and the sounds rattle around in Armitage’s brain, becoming more jumbled by the second, like someone has vigorously shaken a box of puzzle pieces.

“My father doesn’t like anyone.”

It’s not the best response he could come up with, considering what you just told him, but it is the truth. You do at least laugh, somewhat pulled from your worries, nudging him in the side with your arm.

“Come on, be serious! He must like you, at least a little.”

He’d never understand it—how sure you are that he’s worth something, just because you manage to tolerate his presence. You’ve come to his defense before, in the breakroom while the interns bitched about his behavior and none of them assumed he’d be walking by. It’s different, hearing this kind of praise outside the office, and to his face. It’s not just that you think he’s intelligent, or hard-working, or good at what he does. You think that he is good.

He’d take that over approval from Brendol any day.

Armitages offers you his arm; he should be introducing you to the rest of the guests, but he whispers one last assurance, hoping you’ll feel at ease.

“I’d be more worried if he did like you.”

There’s people in almost every room on the first floor, chatting cooly and filling up on hors d'oeuvres before the meal has even started. A few of the guests are family—distant cousins and such who strain to remember Armitage’s name—and old colleagues of Brendol’s. The overwhelming majority are Armitage’s former coworkers, still employed by his father at First Order Industries. The Christmas Eve dinner has been a tradition since Armitage’s childhood, and while most of the guests would probably prefer to spend this time in their own homes and with their families, they’re forced to be here—either too desperate for Brendol’s approval or too afraid of his displeasure.

No one is excited to see him. He’s not bothered by it—he hadn’t wanted to see any of them either. The mutual displeasure is almost as satisfying as the way their eyes go wide when they see you on his arm.

Dinner starts soon after that, just as he'd planned; he had hoped to arrive in time to avoid the majority of the socializing. You keep at his side, following his lead on the way to the expansive dinner table, overflowing with glittering china plates and delicate glassware.

It would be nice, under different circumstances, to be here with you. He’d be able to appreciate the way your lips curl up when he pulls your chair, or the soft weight of your hand on his arm when he sits down beside you. If this were some other party, he’d give you all of his attention, whispering in your ear and sharing smiles over dim candlelight, alone together in a sea of people.

While it’s not what he wants, the dinner isn’t overtly painful. Brendol is just out of range for polite conversation. Instead, you’re entertained through the courses, talking animatedly with the wives of Brendol’s business partners.

He’s certain they’re searching for gossip, excited to debrief over tea in the following weeks and dissect each and every minute gesture you’re making. You play the part beautifully, to your credit—recounting your stories animatedly, moments he had forgotten or passed by without much thought. They carry more weight told from your point of view; he almost believes it, too.

Praise falls generously from your lips as you describe the pro bono cases Armitage has taken on this year, and when his father scoffs; you don’t even stumble.

He wants to stare openly, but he restrains himself. How easily you’ve taken away Brendol’s power. You’ve reduced him to a petty, complaining drunk without a word, and it strikes Armitage in the chest: that’s all that he is.

Could it be possible that you’re right about him, as well?

The night grows long, and yawns are interspersed by bites of rich chocolate tart and sips of warm brandy. Your hand rests comfortably on his wrist, your fingers drawing calming shapes as you explore the landscape of his skin, and he decides finally that bringing you here might be the best idea he’s ever had.

“A room has already been made up for you,” Maratelle says to you, sitting stiffly in her chair, “It's in the guest wing of the house, I'm sure Armitage can show you after dinner—”

“Jesus Christ, Mara,” Brendol interrupts, finally drunk enough that not even the watching eyes of his guests can keep him quiet. “He’s a grown man, not a child. They can stay in his room. Save the maids the trouble of two sets of soiled sheets.”

Fucking hell. Armitage’s face bursts into flame, and Maratelle fumes silently, staring at her husband with wide eyes.

“That would be indecent, dear,” she seethes through clenched teeth, just barely managing to maintain her decorum. It’s the only thing that sustains her, in this god awful relationship. She’d rather be dead than divorced.

Brendol rolls his eyes, slamming his glass down on the table, ensuring that anyone on the other side of the room who may have missed the spectacle are now fully aware.

“My god, Mara, he has a place of his own now. It’s hardly uncommon for a man his age to share a bed with someone he’s seeing.”

It’s imperceptible to anyone but him—the glance Brendol sends him across the table, so quick he could almost pretend he’d imagined it, if he didn’t know better.

Damn him. There’s know way to tell how long Brendol had known that your whole relationship is a farce, but it doesn’t matter. He knows, and he’s determined to ruin his son over this little charade.

“I think,” Armitage speaks up, just barely keeping his anger at bay, “we might all be more comfortable with keeping the arrangements as they are. I wouldn’t want to overstep any boundaries.”

Maratelle sends him an appreciative nod, turning back to see what Brendol will say now that Armitage has sided with her. She doesn’t know any better; Armitage’s side is always the losing side when it comes to Brendol.

His father is about to speak again, smiling wickedly, living for the chance to toy with his son.

“Actually—” all three of their heads turn to you, hearing your interruption, and Armitage can scarcely breathe, “I think it would be a wonderful idea if we stayed together.”

Your eyes are only on him, fingers sliding between his own, and he’s sure he won’t live long enough to see how this all ends.

“Of course, if it’s alright with you.” You turn back to Brendol, waiting for his permission—his surrender. You’ve beaten him at the game he designed in his favor.

Brendol grits his teeth, fuming silently, but he nods, and the other guests slacken, grateful that the conflict is over.

Your fingers are still entwined and you give his hand a gentle squeeze of reassurance. He barely notices. All his thoughts are taken up by the knowledge that in no time at all, he’ll be laying in the darkness beside you. Alone.

He offers you a pathetic attempt at a smile and takes a long drink from his brandy glass, kept sane only by the thought that there will be an entire year’s worth of days before he has to spend Christmas with his father again.

That is, if he survives this one.

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imagines4thepeeps · 3 years

Text

It's a dream, the kind the makes you question reality (Elizabeth Olsen x reader)

For @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

Request: Heya, could I request an Elizabeth Olsen imagine where they haven't seen each other in months due to lockdown but with restrictions slowly being lifted, yn visits where she is staying for ds2 and their emotional at seeing each other again. And because they sadly couldn't spend christmas together they open their presents then instead lol (I did this with my dad the other week, hadn't seen him since november, but did it at a park not at his house lol) please and thank you :3

——————————————————————-

Your chest heaved with anticipation as the wheels of the plane touched down in London. Hands started to shake, and tears were forcing their way out of your eyes. Quickly you swiped them away, ensuring no one saw. Your knuckles turned white as they gripped the armrest to help you regain composure.

You and your girlfriend were only supposed to be apart for a week. It had now been five months since you had seen your girl. That short peck on the lips and tired early morning hug ended up being your last for a long while.

Sure there had been FaceTime and Skype and all the other things to make sure she didn’t forget your face. But that wasn’t your full, “Bright as the sun.” Lizzie.

When the attendant indicated it was safe to exit, your breath hitched. This moment seemed like it was occurring in an alternate reality. You stood up, using the seat in front of you to keep your shaky legs from buckling. Your mind was a blur of anxiety as you neared the large waiting group of people. It was full of families, long-lost loves, and business ventures never to be known. As your eyes scanned the wide-open space, you felt that everyone here was in the same boat as you. The feeling was that of overwhelming relief like you had weathered a seemingly endless storm. Now you were all here able to breathe in that post-storm mist.

“(Y/n)! “ your head snapped to see a woman full sprinting to you. A genuine smile, the first in a while, widened on your mouth. Your arms opened for the woman as she flung herself into your arms. You stumbled back a bit at the force but made a quick recovery.

Emerald eyes met your own as she leaned back to study your features. You did the same, printing every segment of the life in front of you into concrete memory. From the way her hands felt as they ran all over you, making sure your being was solid and assessed in full. To the soft satin of her hair, now cut into bangs. Your hands reached her ribs, finding serenity in the steady rise and fall of her lungs. Your gazes both settled on one another’s lips. She pulled your mouth against her own then, in a kiss like none the world has ever seen. That, like the signature of an artist, sealed the perfect mental Van Gogh you had sculpted into life in your mind.

The ride to the rental home was a silent one. Words were all you had in those lost months. They weren’t necessary now, the two of you basking in the comfortable domestic silence. The driver, seeming to notice, sighed in the beauty of the radiating feeling.

Once inside, you sank into the arms of the woman you loved. You rested your foreheads together, breathing the same air, thinking the same thoughts.

“Presents?” You asked after a long while of just being together. You heard her giggle and felt her nod against you. Your heart swelled, looking away for a moment to contain yourself from the cuteness overload. After saving your heart from exploding, you grabbed the suitcase you had stuffed full of gifts. She moved as well to gather the various packages she had left under the makeshift tree. She joked that this whole fiasco had given her the perfect excuse to leave the decorations up. Though, they weren’t very much due to the lockdown.

—

Now comfortably in your new Wandavision pajamas, which Lizzie had snagged for you way back when they were filming. You stood in the kitchen with Lizzie, listening intently to her gentle instruction. She was ever the teacher and a perfectly splendid cook if you did say so yourself. The smell of fresh-baked sugar cookies filled the home with faux holiday cheer. You laughed and attempted to get away as Lizzie took a bit of excess red icing and booped it on your nose, noticing your spaced-out look. You couldn't help but lose yourself in the moment; you were a family again.

You both smiled as you connected the emerald-eyed beauty's lips to your own. Finally, the tension in your shoulders fully relaxed, and true peace overtook you.

#elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff #mcu imagine #wanda maximoff x reader

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opalesense · 3 years

Text

more than friends

kaeya & gn!reader

2k words • ~15 min. read

summary: feeling down in the dumps on a lonely valentine’s day evening, you are met with a pleasant surprise from your close friend, kaeya.

warnings: just pure lovesick fluff!! shy kaeya my beloved... <3

notes: i defrosted this draft from valentine’s day aahhh hope you like it!! ;^; p.s. shoutout if you can spot his canon voice lines in this hehehe

SITTING WITH MY BACK ON THE FOUNTAIN WALL and watching the rotating blades of the windmills in Mondstadt was not how I expected to spend my evening on Valentine's Day.

To be honest, Valentine's Day was never that big of a deal to me. For the past few years, I always considered Valentine's Day to be a day where vendors could get a boost of profit by exploiting the gift-giving aspect of the holiday and selling their wares to cheesy couples who wouldn't know any better. Why was there a dedicated day to be sweet to your significant other? Couldn't special gifts be given at any other time of the year?

Despite my indifference to Valentine's Day, I couldn't help but feel a little lonely this year. My back purposely faced the couples of Mondstadt who would walk by now and then on their way to their dates and instead I had windmills to accompany me along with a book to pass the time. I figured my evening stroll outside wouldn't make me feel so disappointed in myself, but I was proven sorely wrong. I couldn't even look at other people today without feeling sorry for myself.

"[Y/N]?" a familiar voice drew closer behind me, interrupting my lament and startling me. "What are you doing here all alone?"

I turned my head to see my close friend and neighbor Kaeya approaching me, carrying a small leather pack along with his sheathed sword on his waist. I realized he probably finished his shift at the Knights of Favonius headquarters and was just about to head home. The sight of him eased some of my worries knowing that despite my usual solitude, at least I would talk to one person today. "Just reading a book," I held up the cover of my book for him to see. He gave a small nod to the title as I put it back down into my lap. "How did you even spot me here?"

"I can see you from my office," he pointed at a window on the wall of the headquarters, "You chose quite an odd spot for reading, dear friend. You must be uncomfortable on the ground like that.”

I nervously laughed, not wanting to admit that I sat behind this fountain to avoid looking at how much fun everyone else was having. My gaze turned to the sky, a vibrant orange that now began fading into a shadow of dark blue sprinkled with stars. Dusk was approaching. “I suppose it is getting a little late for reading, now that I think about it. I think I might head home now."

"Allow me to accompany you on your walk home. I’m headed that way, after all," he quickly offered as I began to prop myself up to my feet. He held out his hand to help me on my way up, the sudden physical contact sending a shiver down my spine. As clearly touch deprived as I was, my hand quickly pulled away once I was standing and dusted off my clothes, which were wrinkled from sitting for so long today.

"You are too kind, Kaeya," I grinned, earning a grin back from him. Maybe this is my loneliness speaking for me, but I swear that smile might have made my heart skip a beat. Although I may have had a crush on Kaeya for the past few months, there was no way I’d ever let those thoughts resurface now. I've done a good job of repressing the feelings for so long, whether I was around him or not. At least, I thought I did.

As we walked, it suddenly dawned on me that the feelings never truly went away. They were persistent for months, despite being suppressed. He was my closest friend for quite some time now. So maybe it was a sign that it was meant to be...

Chills ran down my spine at this realization. And once the truth had settled in, the feelings I thought I had managed to stow away suddenly flooded my mind in a storm of emotion. The more we talked during the walk home, the more eager my heart was to open up and let the thought of him fill the cavernous, lonely void inside. My eyes nervously turned to our feet, which stepped together in perfect sync. My attention darted to the hand at his side, which I ached to touch once more. The more I tried to fight this longing, to forget about it and keep it isolated, the more it fought back in an effort to stay alive.

"[Y/N]?" his sultry voice snapped me out of my delusion. Do NOT let your emotions take control of you, I scolded myself.

"Sorry," I shuffled my feet towards his figure, which had stopped a few meters away. The world seemed to stop when I was lost in thought, and with each step I took towards him, the world slowly resumed from where I mentally left it.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, now concerned. "You know you can talk to me."

"No, no. I'm fine," I gripped my book, fighting the urge to break in front of him. "I'm just a little lost in my thoughts."

"Well then, what's on your mind?"

"Kaeya, you won't make fun of me if I’m being honest with you right?" I started to speak without thinking. No, no, no! What are you about to say?!

"What makes you think I would? C’mon, [Y/N]. We joke around a lot but you know I'm good with secrets."

What are you doing?! Don’t fall under pressure like this!

"Well... I’ve felt quite lonely today. A little part in me hurts to see so many people enjoying Valentine's Day, knowing fully well that I live alone and spend most of my days alone... I guess what I’m trying to say is that it was very kind of you to go out of your way to talk to me today, Kaeya. It means a lot more to me than you know."

The silence that followed that regurgitation of thoughts was lethal. Kaeya didn't even stop. We just kept walking. I ignored the instant regret that pounded the walls in my head.

"So you didn't have any plans today?" he asked, as if he had just ignored everything I told him.

"Not at all. I was taking a stroll to find a good reading spot for today but seeing so many couples together... I guess it was like pouring salt into the wound. That's why I was sitting turned away from everything, if that answers your question from earlier."

Now you've just told him too much. If he didn't already think you were sad and lonely before, he definitely thinks so now.

"You shouldn't isolate yourself like that, [Y/N]. We could've– forget it, actually," he chuckled and rested his hand on the back of his neck as we finally approached our residential complex.

"Hey, spit it out!" I nudged him with my elbow, "I poured out my thoughts for you, don't get all shy now. It's your turn."

We stopped at my front door, exchanging small chuckles. The space between us was killing me. If only I could get enveloped by his warm embrace now... No!

"How about I tell you later? Meet me here in around ten minutes."

"What?!" I scoffed, "Now you’re just toying with me."

"Ten minutes," he gave me one last grin and a short wave before jogging away towards his own house. I shook my head as I turned the key to my door, feeling the slamming of my heart against my ribs and the sloppy mix of awe, nervousness, and regret boiling in my stomach. His smile was frozen inside my mind like a photograph capturing a memory. It hurt to like him this much.

A knock on my door ten minutes later pulled me away from tending to my plants on my balcony. I set the watering can down and rushed to the door, straightening out my clothes once more before opening it. Contrary to my expectations, Kaeya stood in the doorway with a shy grin, his hands obviously hiding something behind his back.

"I thought you were joking when you said ten minutes," I scoffed and crossed my arms, looking up at him to meet a pair of soft eyes.

"Still don't have plans for tonight?" his eyebrows raised with the question.

"No. What, are you about to take me out on a date or something?" I said in jest. He chuckled and uncrossed his arms behind his back with slight hesitation before revealing a dainty bouquet of calla lilies tied with a silver ribbon. My jaw dropped slightly in shock with the sight of the charming white petals.

"I am, actually," his voice was gentler and sweeter than usual. "These are for you."

He motioned for me to take the bouquet, which I gladly accepted. The subtle fragrance reminded me of his own scent, which made me smile. I secretly wished my entire house would smell like this unforgettable aroma – this unforgettable man.

"[Y/N]," his words were laced with hesitation, "I have been waiting weeks to tell you this but... you are constantly on my mind. Whenever I see you my heart jumps and..."

He chuckled with nervousness. That grin never fails to make my chest light up.

"...and I know you're not going to believe me because you say I smooth talk everyone, but I promise you, [Y/N]. I know you see that I’m nervous right now – that doesn't happen to me with anyone else. This feeling hasn't gone away for months.” Instant regret suddenly painted his face, which I quickly took notice of. I stepped closer to him and lifted my hand to gently cup his warm, blushing cheek. It was my way of telling him to keep talking without interrupting him.

"[Y/N]..." he blushed more at the touch and sighed, "you are so special to me and... I’ll get straight to the point. I want to be more than friends. I really mean it.”

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and waited eagerly for my response. I was no longer thinking properly. My heart had taken over my mind, and for once, it was for my benefit.

"Kaeya," my voice cracked with a million emotions at once, "you have no clue how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that. I am so in love with you it makes me sick," I admitted lightheartedly.

He laughed with relief, taking another step closer to me and shrinking the space between us. He lifted his hand to grab mine and intertwined our fingers together. The mood shifted from nerve wrecking intensity to reassurance and gentleness the instant our palms met. He caressed my hand with his gloved thumb for reassurance, chasing all my troubles away. "I promise I will never let you feel alone ever again."

We stood there staring into each other's eyes for a few moments, exchanging so many mutual emotions in mere seconds. A blush began to creep up my face as well when he gave my hand a squeeze accompanied with a proud smile.

"Well, now that we're both blushing messes in love with each other, how about we finally go out tonight?" Our friendly dynamic finally returned to clear the thickness in the air once he broke the silence. "I have to admit, I was feeling a little lonely myself and was just going to drink at the tavern with some of the other Knights tonight.”

"Not anymore, I hope?"

"Definitely not. I’d rather spend the evening holding your hand and taking a stroll through the city so everyone knows I’m finally yours."

This man sure knows how to say the right thing. I glanced at the bouquet in my arms, partly to hide my reddened face but also to ask, "Could I put these in a vase first? They're beautiful, by the way. I really love calla lilies.”

"Oh yes, of course. But they’re not as beautiful as you, cutie," Kaeya said with no reluctance.

There's the flirty Kaeya that I know.

I let out a shy laugh as he let go of my hand, the loss of touch making me pout. As I turned to put the flowers away, he leaned on the doorframe and let out a deep breath.

"Well, I'll be here. Don't make me wait too long, now."

#kaeya #kaeya x reader #genshin impact #mine #boom #genshin impact x reader

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midgardianweasley · 3 years

Note

GEORGE WEASLEY X PLUS SIZE READER MY SOUL NEEDS IT IT NEEDS IT NOWW

ofc ofc bestie, i hope it’s okay <33

All of your bodies are absolutely beautiful guys <33

All of you

George Weasley x Plus Size fem!Reader

Summary: It’s summertime and Y/N is spending her weeks at the Burrow with the Weasley family, invited by Molly and her boyfriend of 5 months, George. The family all decide to go to the local lake to cool off from the sun, Y/N isn’t confident with her body/stretch marks and says she just wants to stay home to avoid anyone else seeing them. George notices and convinces her that her body is beautiful the way it is.

Warnings: Body insecurities, stretch marks, anxious thoughts

Word Count: 1769

Message/ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist lovelies <3

Over the past week at the Burrow, the sun had been blazing, heat becoming a common frustration in the home. They had all tried everything they could to try and cool down, extra ice in their drinks, standing in front of fans, they’d even played quidditch so that they could feel a slight breeze, the air proving to be unhelpful by being at a complete standstill, the humidity was unbearable. Everyone was gathered in the living room, scattered around the room to avoid any possible extra body heat. Even Y/N and George who were always sitting together at any given opportunity had sat themselves a good couple of feet away from the other, the thought of being cuddled up with George had made Y/N grow incredibly warm. Upon hearing Fred groan about how boiling he was for what felt like the millionth time in the last half an hour, Ginny had had enough.

“Fred, for the love of Merlin, will you shut up?”

“I can’t help it! It’s like a bloody fire in here” He argued, tilting his head back against the sofa, quickly regretting it when feeling the fabric against his neck.

“We’re all feeling it Fred! we’re all hot, we’re all bored, we’re all agitated, you repeating the same thing over and over, isn’t helping.” You could hear the frustration in her voice, quickly replaced by the sound of Arthur Weasley standing up and walking around frantically

“Right, we’re not sitting around here for any longer, everyone, pack some swimming gear, we’re going to the Lake!” He announced, everyone cheering, everyone except Y/N. The thought of showing more skin than normal, sent a bolt of anxiety through her. She hadn’t felt comfortable in her own skin for a long time, imagining herself in a swimsuit had made her internally cringe. She was so used to wearing jeans and at a push, a short sleeved t-shirt, knowing what lay beneath. Y/N had never been a fan of her stretch marks. Her parents had always told her that they were signs of her growing, that it wasn’t anything to be ashamed of. She had always viewed them differently. Over the years, she had seen plenty of girls show their stomachs, their legs, and she hadn’t seen them. Or if she had, they weren’t like hers, their ones were white or clear or smaller. She thought something was wrong with her body. Why were hers not white? Why were hers a mixture of red and purple? She was soon brought out of her thoughts by George standing in front of her, placing his hands on her hips gently before speaking.

“You alright Love? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost” He chuckled

Y/N and George had only been dating for about five months, being close friends for a previous two years. He wasn’t aware of Y/N’s insecurities about her body, she always appeared so confident, she hadn’t let it show so to not bring any attention to it. Y/N stepped away slightly when feeling his hands lie on her hips, feeling him touching where she knew the marks where. Trying her best to ignore the frown on his face at the sudden loss of contact, she spoke up quietly.

“Y’know George, I think i’m gonna sit this one out, I’m not feeling so good.” She lied, briefly meeting his eyes but not maintaining the contact for long. His eyebrows furrowed slightly at her comment.

“Oh. That's okay, I’ll just go and tell mum we’re stay-” He went to leave, but Y/N caught his wrist, gently tugging him back.

“No no, you go have fun Georgie, I’ll just see you when you get back”

“Are you sure you want to stay? Will you be alright on your own?” He questioned, not entirely convinced by her suggestion, she seemed okay when they were all sat down? She never gave up an opportunity to spend time with his family?

“Of course my love, you go and cool down. Tell everyone i’m sorry though, I was excited to go” She lied through the grit of her teeth, pulling a tight lipped smile. ‘There it was’ George thought. Over the years, Y/N had a tell for when she was lying. Her smile was always different when she was telling the truth. This one didn’t quite meet her eyes, why was she lying? He didn’t mention it, he didn’t want to cause a scene or embarrass her, so with a simple nod of his head, he kissed her cheek and waved her up the stairs, going over to Fred when he’d heard the door click shut.

“Hey mate, where’s Y/N gone?” Fred asked, looking around to see if he’d just missed her in the flurry of people gathering their things together.

“She’s just gone upstairs, you lot crack on, we’ll follow after you guys.”

“You sure? I can get mum to go up if she needs some, y’know, woman to woman discussion.” Fred spoke awkwardly, unsure of how to help.

“Nah mate, we’re good, i’ll head up. Honestly, you guys go ahead” George waved him off, watching him meet with the rest of his family, Harry and Hermione included as they were staying with Ron for a bit during the holidays. When he saw them all walking off on their way to the lake, he ran up the stairs, taking two stairs up at a time, coming face to face with his door, he raised his fist and knocked gently.

“Come in?” Y/N spoke with a hint of confusion, she was so sure she’d heard the downstairs door shut. George opened the door, popping his head round first before stepping in, briefly seeing Y/N pull down her top, hoping that he hadn’t seen her stomach before approaching her. Deciding to keep his hands to himself this time, he began to speak. “What’s the real reason you don’t want to go?” He spoke, with only concern and love in his voice.

“I told you, i’m not feeling well.”

“I know what you told me love, but I also know when you’re lying, I want to know what’s troubling you so I can help.”

“It’s nothing you can help with.” Y/N spoke, but quickly jumping backwards when she’d caught eye of George beginning to reach out again. He picked up on her reaction again.

“Have I done something princess?”

“No, you haven’t done anything Georgie.” She sighed, feeling defeated knowing that he could read her like a book but had come to the conclusion that it was something against him.

“You can talk to me you know, if it is something I’ve done, I-”

“It’s not aimed at you, I just, I don’t like it.” She spoke, causing George to tilt his head slightly, not entirely sure what she meant. Seeing this, she spoke again.

“I..I don’t like people touching my stomach, or my hips, or my legs.”

“Is there a reason why? If you don’t mind me asking, you don’t need to answer, but i’m here to help if you do”

Y/N thought about it for a few minutes, George standing silently, giving her time to think it over. Instead of speaking, she lifted her top slightly, not a lot, but enough for George to see what in his eyes looked to be like red and purple lightning bolts. He looked fascinated by them. Shying under his stare, but not pulling her top down yet, Y/N mumbled

“They’re called stretch marks, if that’s what you’re wondering.” George looked up at her

“And you don’t like them?”

“No.”

“How come?” He spoke, being patient with her responses. She sighed again, taking a minute before answering

“They look weird, almost angry. They’re not faded and white like other girls. They just make me feel like my body is..wrong. I don’t know how else to explain it” She spoke, feeling vulnerable under his eyes, knowing he was looking at them, something she had always avoided. George’s gaze fluttered between her stretch marks and her eyes, feeling fully captivated by her. “May i?” He spoke, indicating that he’d wanted to touch them, she hesitated, but eventually nodded her head, trusting him to not judge her. He softly stroked them with his thumb, feeling slightly proud that she was letting him be this close to her, not just physically, but emotionally. He knew she felt vulnerable, she was trusting him with her insecurity. Because of this, he chose his next words carefully.

“I think they’re beautiful”

“George-” She went to reply, but he quickly cut her off

“No no, just listen to me for a minute, okay?” She stopped speaking, taking this as a sign to speak, he continued. “I think they’re beautiful. They’re a sign that you’ve grown. That your body is changing, a sign of something good. They don’t have to look like everyone else’s, your body, and every mark on it, is unique to you, just like your personality. All of it makes you the Y/N we all know and love. I know not everyone has seen them, but I can guarantee nothing would change if they were to see it. These are nothing to be ashamed of.” He spoke, still stroking the marks. Meeting her eyes again, he saw tears falling and heard quiet sniffles.

“Hey hey, what’s with the tears, Princess? did I say something wrong?” She smiled and chuckled softly

“Not a thing Georgie, I’ve just never heard of anyone speak of me so fondly before. Do you mean all of that?”

“Of course I do my love. Every word. I understand if you don’t want to go to the Lake, but, I think it would be a nice idea. You don’t need to wear anything you’re uncomfortable with, just having your company would be enough for us.” Wiping her tears while speaking. She shook her head.

“I think i’ll go, but I’ll just go with what i’m wearing, if that’s okay. I don’t want to wear a swimsuit.”

“That’s absolutely fine, princess. Whatever you like.” George smiled, about to turn to lead both of them out, before he was tugged back again. She leaned up to kiss him, just a peck, but it spoke a thousand words.

“Thank you for staying and helping me Georgie, it means the world to me.”

“Anything for you.” He spoke, kissing her again before the both of them walked out hand in hand, ready to go to the lake and meet the rest of the family, hopefully without Fred’s grumbles.

Taglist: @horrorxweasley @dracofknmalfoy @gaycatlord-stuff

#george weasley #george weasley fluff #george weasley fic #george weasley fanfic #george weasley x fanfiction #george weasley x fanfic #george weasley comfort #george weasley x plus size reader #george weasley x fem reader #george weasley stretch marks #fred weasley #molly weasley #arthur weasley #harry potter #hermione granger #ron weasley #the burrow

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