#Christmas Gifts for Grumpy People | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

retrosabers · 24 days ago

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𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

FICMAS DAY 3: GIFT-GIVING

bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: as bucky’s secret santa, you’re determined to give him the best christmas present he’s ever received.

contains: grumpy buck fluff, some angst, idiots who are crushing hard, swearing

word count: 2.4k

a/n: this is a long one i’m apologizing in advance

i am SO SORRY for crickets in the ficmas department the past week, i hit a big brick wall with this and i’ve been so all over the place with my own holiday planning and such that i ended up having to cut the masterlist in half because i knew i couldn’t get it all done. i’m very sorry to anyone who was looking forward to what got scrapped, but i couldn’t bring myself to rush through writing and put out something i don’t believe it my best work.

also, do people even want avengers fix it fics anymore?? i debated between the “everything is fine the team lives at the compound together” vibe and setting this post tfatws, but ultimately decided the former was easier to write. and i think it worked in my favor because this turned out really cute :)

!! divider by @strangergraphics !!

FICMAS MASTERLIST

your heart feels like it’s going to burst out of your chest.

who’s idea was this again? wanda? tony? steve? it didn’t matter anymore. all that mattered right now was that you didn’t pass out in the elevator. a feat that was becoming more and more difficult the closer you got to your destination.

a secret santa is supposed to bring you joy, not near paralyzing anxiety.

at first, you were 100% on board with participating in a gift exchange. as much as you wanted to shower all of your teammates with presents galore, not everyone shared the same sentiment, and thus the idea of a secret santa was proposed.

excitement courses through your veins as you reach your hand into the cheap santa hat tony grabbed from god knows where in storage, with little pieces of paper containing the names of your fellow avengers. you decided to wait until you were back in the privacy of your room to open it up, afraid of any wandering eyes taking a peak. the last thing you wanted was the element of surprise to be stripped away. it was half the fun after all.

as sam pulls the last name, you quietly excuse yourself and all but rush upstairs, too eager to get in the holiday spirit and brainstorm. as soon as the door shuts behind you, you hurriedly reveal the contents of the paper.

if it’s natasha, i can get her a pair of ballet slippers. she’s been mentioning how she wants to start dancing again.

what about bruce? maybe a journal for all his ideas? he always seems to be losing sticky notes in the lab.

a million different ideas swirl around in your head, reminding you just how much joy this time of year brings. to you, there was nothing better than seeing the gleeful looks on people’s faces when they opened their gifts. the corners of your mouth turn up at the memory of your first christmas with the team. how shy and reluctant you were, afraid of going overboard. now, a few years later, you’re completely unabashed in showing just how much you care about them.

your bright smile morphs into a deep frown as you unfold the paper.

bucky barnes.

quite possibly the most difficult person you could’ve chosen.

to be clear, there’s nothing wrong with bucky. he may be a bit grumpy and standoffish, but it’s with good reason and you know it. that also doesn’t change the fact that he’s going to be impossible to try and shop for.

what do you get for the man who seemingly despises anything the modern world has to offer? the same man who you’re 99% sure hates your guts. come to think of it, how did you even pull him? he most definitely wasn’t downstairs 20 minutes ago when everyone scribbled down their names and tossed them in tony’s direction.

it was irrelevant now. you were stuck being his secret santa, and you’d be damned if you didn’t give james buchanan barnes the best christmas gift he’s ever gotten in his century-long lifetime.

the two weeks it took to come up with an idea sure felt like a century. if it wasn’t for the concerning amount of snooping you did, you’d probably be showing up empty handed. thankfully, at almost 1 in the morning on a random tuesday, a lightbulb went off in your brain. you scrambled bright and early the next day to go shopping, and by some lucky form of divine intervention, you acquired the perfect gift.

flash forward to now, and you’re carrying an insanely large box up to bucky’s room. in a blatant stray from what the rest of the team was doing, you decided to give him his present one on one, secluded from everyone else. partly because you were afraid of public embarrassment if he hated it, and partly because you knew bucky wasn’t very fond of being put on display.

you hope he’ll at least be grateful for that.

when the elevator finally chimes, signaling you’ve arrived at the dormitory floor, the box nearly slips from your grasp. not just from how heavy it was, but from the nervous sweat coating your palms.

the hallway is quiet enough to hear a pin drop, save for the faint sound of christmas music playing over the speakers. with careful, calculated steps, you make your way down the length of the corridor, dragging your feet the closer you get to bucky’s room. there’s a small part of you that hopes he’s downstairs in the gym, the kitchen, the backyard, anywhere but here. dropping and dashing wasn’t what you had in mind, but the anxious thumping of your heart was becoming unbearable. you know it will only amplify tenfold if you’re forced to stare into those steel blue eyes of his. the thought alone sends a chill down your spine.

you freeze in place when you hear the sound of a door knob clicking open.

please be wanda’s room, please be wanda’s room.

in front of you, the very last door on the left creaks open, revealing the tall and brooding super soldier whose company you were aiming to avoid.

it’s easy to forget how handsome bucky barnes is when he normally does nothing but grimace in your direction.

you still weren’t used to his new haircut, but it was clear he felt significantly more confident with it. is that a hint of aftershave, or cologne? whatever it was, the scent fit him perfectly; cedarwood with a hint of spice. the green henley he wears fits snugly against his broad frame, emphasizing all the muscles you’ve been caught staring at on more than one occasion. for once, he’s not wearing a scowl, though that changes when he catches sight of you.

surely you must look strange, standing dumbfounded in the middle of the hall with a box covered in santa-printed wrapping paper and a big bow that you can barely hold. right now the floor opening up and swallowing you whole was at the top of your wish list. and st. nick better make it quick.

bucky’s expression shifts from one of disdain to curiosity as he quirks a brow wordlessly. your own knit together in frustration, knowing you now had no choice but to do this exchange face to face.

“need any help?” he questions monotonously. as much as you want to be prideful and reject it, your arms feel like they’re going to fall off any second. he seems to catch your drift despite a verbal response, because in the blink of an eye he’s striding towards you, sweeping the gift from your arms and into his own with ease. you try not to gape at the way his biceps strain against fabric.

you stutter out a “thanks,” as you straighten out your sweater. bucky grunts in return and eyes the package in his hands cautiously. you’re half expecting him to shake it like a child when you catch the tiniest twitch of his upper lip.

it’s the closest thing to a smile he’s ever shown in your presence. something that gives you the courage to actually form a sentence instead of continuing to gawk at him.

here goes nothing.

“this is for you, actually,” you manage to shakily breathe out. bucky halts his observations, a glimmer of surprise briefly dancing across his face.

a beat of silence passes between you. “don’t remember asking for anything," he finally says. it’s still laced with his typical dry sarcasm, but there’s a legitimate amusement in his tone that can’t be missed.

you narrow your eyes at him playfully, feeling a little bit more at ease now that he didn’t completely rebuff you.

“i’m your secret santa, smartass,” you jab with your hands on your hips.

for the first time ever, bucky smirks at you.

“don’t recall asking for that either.”

you throw your hands up in defense, offering him a surprisingly nonchalant shrug. “don’t blame me, i’m pretty sure steve was the one who put your name in.”

“punk,” the man grumbles. he shakes his head, attention turning back to the present in hand once more.

despite his apparent annoyance, you can’t seem to stop yourself from continuing on.

“i know you’re supposed to do this kind of thing with everyone around,” you start off shaky, afraid of upsetting him any more than you may already have. his gaze immediately falls to you upon hearing your voice.

“i also know you’re not a big fan of being the center of attention,” you continue, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jeans. “figured you’d like this better if it was in private.”

bucky’s features soften. his jaw unclenched, his eyes not so narrow and judgmental. he looks relieved, flattered; a myriad of things you can’t name or place.

“i appreciate that,” he admits, suddenly shy and impish. for a second, he completely forgets about the gift you brought. the simple fact that you were kind enough to consider his feelings, despite how cold he could be to you, makes his heart skip a beat.

you simply nod your head in reply, teetering back and forth on your feet awkwardly trying to decipher your next move.

“you don’t have to open that right now you know.”

he sets the box down on the floor next to his door. “kinda defeats the purpose don’t you think?”

you shrug. “whatever you’re comfortable with. doesn’t matter what you’re “supposed to do.””

why did you care so much about his comfort level? he hardly showed any concern for yours. the notion consumes his thoughts, prohibiting him from offering anything except a nod of acknowledgement.

that awkward silence comes once again, signaling maybe you’ve overstayed your welcome, or that the moment of peace is over. you check your watch in hopes that father time was ending this exchange for you.

just your luck, he’s right on schedule.

“i uh, better get downstairs,” you announce, pointing your thumb in the direction of the elevator. “don’t wanna miss thor forcing everyone to do christmas karaoke.”

a noise akin to laughter snorts out of bucky’s nose, evoking a delightful warmth in your chest. it was different than all the other times you’ve been flustered in the presence of the super soldier. this was less about intimidation and more about…camaraderie. now wondering if maybe he doesn’t hate you as much as you thought.

it’s exactly what you need to reignite your holiday cheer and shed any remaining worries.

before you can second guess, you turn on your heels, closing the gap between your bodies. wrapping a hand around his arm, his metal arm, and offering a gentle caress, the sincerity in your words is clear as day.

“merry christmas buck.”

your touch burns straight through vibranium all the way to his chest. across his entire body, igniting every cell ablaze. a fire consuming him in ways unimaginable.

and yet. he enjoyed the burn.

as you pull away, much to his dismay, the tips of his fingers brush against the inside of your wrist. goosebumps errupt on your skin, from the cool metal, or that fact that bucky was so pretty this close, only time would tell.

“you too,” he murmurs with a faint grin. the soft crinkles by his eyes are likely going to be the subject of your daydreams for the next week.

you flash him a smile over your shoulder before turning down the hall and averting his gaze, not wanting him to see just how much you were blushing.

while unbeknownst to you, bucky was now a very bright shade of red.

he waits until he can hear the elevator doors close before slipping back into his room and very carefully unwrapping the box. there’s a nervousness in his stomach that’s unfamiliar, but not unpleasant. as the bare brown packaging becomes exposed, he begins ripping back the numerous layers of packing tape. you really took your time on this, he thinks to himself.

that funny feeling only amplifies when he sees the contents of the box.

a record player, a very expensive looking one at that, sits inside with another three wrapped items that he concludes are vinyls, judging from their flatness. on top of it all, there was a small note shrouded in luxe stationary. bucky’s heart stutters when he sees his name scribbled delicately in your handwriting.

his fingers falter briefly before he digs into the envelope.

i know this isn’t like the ones from the 40s, but it’s the closest thing i could find. also got a few of your favorite records, and one i think you’ll like too. don’t forget i have quite a collection of my own in case you ever want to try something new.

merry christmas ♡

bucky unceremoniously plops down on the edge of his bed. the normally stiff feeling mattress now mirrored a sea of clouds and feathers. he’d gladly sink into the abyss of softness, if it meant pumping the brakes on his thundering heartbeat.

from the moment he met you, bucky knew he was in trouble.

you had an aura about you that was magnetic, always drawing people in and bathing them in your light. your unconditional kindness and consideration, hell, even your mere presence in a room seemed to liven it up entirely. it was a hypnotizing, almost dangerous thing for the man, and if there was one thing he knew how to do, it was to push people away. for their sake, and his. bucky was certain that once he started keeping his distance, that you’d eventually give up in trying to crack his tough outer shell, or that the silly feelings he had would disappear.

but right now, as he’s staring at your handwriting and rubbing his thumb repeatedly over that little heart, he knows it was all in vain.

later that night, he stares up at the ceiling, listening to the familiar croon of it’s been a long, long time wafting from his present. he tries to focus on the beauty of the song, or the lights he can see from his window twinkling out on the lawn, but it’s nearly impossible. you’re the subject of all his thoughts. have been since the moment he saw you standing out in the hall. from the scent of your perfume to the little intricacies of your penmanship. the thing that’s plaguing him the most, however, is your hand on his arm.

bucky’s real arm had been gone for over half a century, having stopped experiencing phantom limb syndrome ages ago. yet somehow he felt it there, clear as day. the same tactile sensations on his flesh, right arm, in the metal prosthetic of his left. an electric shock that he’s never recognized before, and that he wouldn’t be opposed to feeling again.

tomorrow, he plans to thank steve for mischievously adding his name into the lottery.

and to ask you about your record collection.

thanks for reading! <3

tag list: @alastor-simp @j4desblurbs @pandapetals

!! if you would like to be tagged in the rest of the ficmas blurbs, please send me an inbox message or leave a comment !!

#retrosabers #sid writes shit #ficmas #ficmas 2024 #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes #the falcon and the winter soldier #sebastian stan

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mugglebornmarvelite · 18 days ago

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Christmas Chaos

Paring: Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Avenger! Fem! Reader (Grumpy x Sunshine)

Summary: Your first Christmas with the team is one for the books. The excitement of unwrapping gifts turns into delightful chaos.

Word Count: Roughly 1.1k

Warnings: Fluff, Mild Violence (threats and roughhousing), Christmas themes, Bucky's red henley (totally deserves it's own warning)

Author’s Note: According to TikTik, tons of people didn't get what they wanted for Christmas; so here’s a little something I whipped up because I’ve been awake since 5 this morning and I have had three cups of coffee. I typed this on my phone, so if there are errors, I apologize. If you like this, you’re welcome and if you don’t, it wasn’t me :)

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Divider by: @strangergraphics

You wake up to muffled noises from downstairs. You bury your face in your pillow, before looking at your phone for the time. It is too early to be up on any regular day, but today was different. It's Christmas day! Christmas day with your favorite people. You slipped on your fluffy slippers and quietly padded downstairs, rubbing your eyes and yawning softly.

“Merry Christmas!” you chirped to the team.

Natasha smiled and raised her mug of coffee.

Wanda smiled and handed you a cup of hot chocolate.

Tony was busy arguing with Bruce over an instruction manual, and Steve and Sam argued over who had better gift-wrapping critiques. But as you scanned the room, you noticed. Bucky wasn’t there.

“Where’s Bucky?” you asked with a small frown.

“He’s upstairs,” Sam said casually. “Brooding, probably.”

“I can go get him…” You offered, only to be cut off.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Steve gave you a small grin, ruffling your hair. “Trust us.”

Wanda passed you your stocking, filled with goodies. The works of small trinkets, candy and chocolate coins.

You grinned as you and Peter dove into the chocolates.

Tony already started complaining about the sugar rush you both would get.

Then, Steve pointed to a large, festively wrapped box.

“This one’s for you, kid.”

Your eyes widened. The box was massive, and you crouched down to peel the wrapping paper off.

“What in the world?” you murmured, pulling off layer after layer. With a puzzled look, you pried it open.

“Bucky?!”

The former Winter Soldier was sitting cross-legged in the box, arms tied with rope, a gag around his mouth, and a pretty red bow on his head. He wore a snug red henley and gray sweatpants, looking both murderous and utterly done with life.

He looked divine, even tied up. Delicious. Marvelous. He could make greek gods envious.

“Merry Christmas, sunshine,” Steve and Sam chorused, howling with laughter.

Your jaw dropped, and then a giggle bubbled out of you as you knelt by the box. “Oh my gosh, you two didn’t! Poor Bucky!”

Bucky’s piercing glare snapped to Steve and Sam. He growled something unintelligible through the gag, making them laugh harder. Your cheeks flushed as you gently began untying the bow and ropes.

“I’m so sorry they did this to you,” you said, smiling softly as you helped him out of the box.

Bucky’s expression was a storm cloud, but when his sharp blue eyes landed on your sweet, genuine smile, his hardened features instantly softened.

“Merry Christmas, sunshine,” he murmured, pulling you into a surprisingly gentle hug. The heat of his body and the smell of fresh pine and something distinctly him filled your senses.

You melted into the embrace, pressing your face into his chest as your arms circled his waist and whispered, “Merry Christmas, Bucky.”

The tender moment lasted five seconds. Maybe eight, but who’s counting?

Then, he pulled back and turned to Steve and Sam.

“You two are dead,” he growled, rolling his shoulders.

Steve and Sam’s laughter ceased as they quickly stood. “Now, Buck, let’s talk about this—”

But Bucky was already moving towards them, cracking his knuckles menacingly.

“We’re going to run,” Sam muttered, and the two bolted out of the room, Bucky hot on their heels, shouting threats about payback.

Watching the chase unfold, you couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped your lips. Natasha caught your eyes as she sipped her coffee.

“Guess you’re his sunshine, huh?” she teased.

You bit your lip, cheeks warm as you whispered, “Maybe.”

Natasha smirked knowingly but didn’t push further. Instead, she was content to watch the chaos unfold as Bucky cornered Sam near the Christmas tree.

“You think tying me up is funny?” Bucky growled, advancing with a predatory stride.

“It wasn’t just me!” Sam yelped, using the tree as a barrier. “Steve came up with the idea!”

Steve, who was inching toward the kitchen in a futile attempt to escape unnoticed, froze under Bucky’s glare.

“Traitor,” he muttered under his breath, cursing Sam’s lack of discretion.

“Traitor?” Bucky repeated, catching the word. “You both tied me up like a damn Christmas present and you’re calling him the traitor?”

You stifled a laugh behind your hand, stepping closer. “Okay, okay, Bucky. Maybe don’t kill them? It is Christmas.”

“Besides, we did it for her,” Sam pointed at you to soften the blow. “Right, sugarplum?”

“Do not call her sugarplum. Ever.” Bucky warned Sam.

“Bucky,” You called softly, looking up at him.

Bucky paused, looking back at you.

His sharp glare softened into something almost dopey when he saw your pleading eyes and soft smile.

With a sigh, he rolled his eyes and muttered, “Fine. They live. For now.”

Sam exhaled audibly, his shoulders slumping in relief. “Thank you, sunshine!” he called to you, grinning.

But Bucky turned sharply, pointing a finger at him. “Don’t push it.”

Sam immediately zipped his mouth,

Steve, ever the brave one, chuckled and clapped Bucky on the shoulder as he passed. “Merry Christmas, old pal.”

Bucky’s only response was a low grumble of curse before sitting on the couch.

You disappeared into the kitchen and came back a few moments later, offering him a warm mug of hot cocoa in your hands.

“Here,” you said softly, “Hot cocoa. Consider it a peace offering on behalf of Steve and Sam.”

Bucky eyed the mug for a moment, then you. He took it without a word, his fingers brushing yours briefly, sending a little jolt through you.

“Thanks,” he muttered, taking a sip.

You sat beside him, your own cocoa in hand, legs tucked beneath you as you leaned against the armrest. The room buzzed with holiday chatter and laughter, but your attention stayed on the super soldier beside you.

“I hope they didn’t ruin your day,” you said after a moment, voice tinged with genuine concern.

Bucky glanced at you, his lips quirking up in a faint smile. “Nah. Nothing can ruin my day when you are smiling at me like that, sunshine.”

Your cheeks burned and you looked away.

Natasha, who had been observing the exchange from across the room, smirked and leaned over to Clint. “He’s whipped,” she whispered.

Clint raised an eyebrow, glancing at you and Bucky before nodding. “Completely.”

Bucky leaned back on the couch, sipping his cocoa and sneaking glances at you. Every now and then, his lips would tug into a soft smile.

Without a word, he shifted, inching toward you on the couch. He casually draped his arm across the back of the couch, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

You eagerly took the opportunity to tuck yourself into Bucky’s side.

This time, leaving his cheeks burning.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed! Happy Holidays! Stay warm/cool wherever you're at.

Tell your loved ones that you love them.

And if nobody told you today, I love you <3

If you'd like to be added to my taglist

Much love x

- Maeve

#james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #beefy bucky #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #christmas #christmas fluff #christmas fic #grumpy x sunshine #merry christmas

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holylulusworld · 22 days ago

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How to cure a grump (1)

Summary: You're losing your job on Christmas.

Pairing: CEO/Boss!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, grumpy Bucky, awful boss

How to cure a grump masterlist

“Santa Claus is coming to town,” you sing along to the song blaring from your phone. You’re, as so often, the last one at the office.

Before the holidays, most of your colleagues try to get out of the office as early as possible. They have better plans than to work like busy ants two days before Christmas.

Sadly, you didn’t get to leave on the clock. Your boss demanded your attention. You couldn’t join your colleagues at the little Christmas party you organized for weeks.

Now they will all exchange the Secret Santa gifts you got for most of them, drink eggnog, and sing awful Christmas songs while you are stuck here with your grumpy boss.

“Miss Y/L/N, I need the numbers now." Mr. Barnes doesn’t even walk toward your desk. He simply barks orders your way.

You heave out a sigh and glance at the stack of papers on your desk. Before you get up to hand Mr. Barnes the numbers he wanted you to finish before the holidays, you save your work.

Grabbing the papers, you silently pray that Mr. Barnes won’t come up with more tasks. It’s long past your work time, and you’re tired and cranky. You’ll need a good night’s sleep and at least a day off before driving home for Christmas.

“Miss Y/L/N,” he barks as you are already halfway toward his office. Mr. Barnes huffs as you stumble over your own feet. “You know, I had better things to do than wait for the numbers. I have been waiting for hours. I think you’re the worst person working here.”

For a second, you’re stunned. You feel like Mr. Barnes slapped you across your face.

“Maybe if you asked the person responsible for the mistake to help you with the numbers, you'd like the outcome better. I worked overtime only to get yelled at!” You gasp. The words just flew out of your mouth, unfiltered and raw with emotions.

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t work here any more then!” He bites back. It wasn’t a surprise to you that Mr. Barnes lost his temper. He’s always been a little hot-headed and grumpy. Mr. Barnes fired people here and there over the years. You just didn’t think you’d be one of them one day.

“You’re firing me after I fixed a mistake someone else made?” You huff and cross your arms over your chest. “I don’t see anyone else standing in line to work through the numbers. I worked overtime before the holidays to do you a favor.”

“That’s your job,” he growls and points at the door. “Or was. I want you to pack your things and don’t come back.”

“Fine,” you huff and turn on your heels, regretting your mishap instantly. You’d apologize and even fall to your knees to get your job back. Sadly, Mr. Barnes is a strict man. He doesn’t accept mistakes or insubordination. Whatever you’d do or say, there was no way he’d give you your job back.

So, you got a box from the storage room, emptied your desk, grabbed your belongings, and left the building for the last time in your life. To hell with this job and your boss.

“Mom, stop asking questions,” you plead as your mother wouldn’t stop asking questions about your job.

“It’s all so exciting. Living in the big city, having friends you meet up at bars like Carrie in Sex and the City, and your job. It sounds wonderful!”

“Mom, I barely made any friends,” you sigh, and try to rub the embarrassment off your face. “I’d call them work friends or acquaintances.”

“I bet they are all too happy to have you around,” she coos and cups your face. “I know my Munchkin conquered the big city in no time.”

“Mom, I—” you sniffle and look away, ashamed. It never gets easy to lie to your mother. “I have to tell you something about the job.”

“What is it, Munchkin?” she asks, looking at you, worry in her eyes. She coos to you as you begin to cry. Starting anew after your long-term boyfriend and fiancé broke things up was the dream you wanted to fulfill. Now, you failed again.

“I got fired yesterday,” you sniff. “I worked overtime, and my boss yelled at me. I fixed someone else’s mistake, and he still yelled at me. I lost it and…” You shake your head and refuse to look at your mother.

“Y/N, that’s not the end of the world.” She wraps you in a warm embrace. The kind of embrace only a mother can give you. You feel warm and safe, remembering all the times she calmed you in times of need. “You’ll find a new job, a better one. If he fired you, that man doesn’t know how to value you.”

“The fuck no!” Bucky flings a stack of papers across the room. He tried to access your account, only to realize he never asked you to reset your password. Now he’s seething because most of your work, except the files you shared with colleagues and him, is password protected. “She forgot to reset the fucking password!”

“Well, you told her to pack her things and leave, Buck. What did you expect to happen?” Steve huffs. He had to leave his cozy home and wife to help Bucky with some unimportant paperwork. “We've got time to fix this until after the holidays.”

“Unimportant to you,” Bucky bites back. “I want this finished before the year ends.”

“Buck,” Steve snorts. “If you need her password, call her.” The blonde shrugs before turning to leave. “I know you are not the best at communicating, but I believe in you. You can handle a phone call with a woman you just fired.”

“I tried more than once,” Bucky snaps at his best friend and business partner. “She won’t answer. The last time I called, she blocked my number.”

“Yeah, because you fired her!” Steve replies, laughing. “I wouldn’t answer any call from an asshole firing me two days before Christmas, either.”

Bucky opens his mouth to reply. He huffs as his friend already walks toward the door.

“What shall I do now? I need the password!”

“If you cannot reach her, go to her home and ask for the password. I will go home now. Please don’t call me during Christmas. Natasha will rip me a new one if I miss Christmas.”

“She’s not home. I was there. Her neighbors told me that Y/N will spend Christmas at her parents’ house. There’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Buck,” Steve laughs. “You can fly to her hometown and ask her for the password. While on your way back, you can celebrate with a pretty stewardess in first class as every Christmas…”

How to cure a grump (2)

#bucky barnes #business au #ceo!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader

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piastappies · 1 year ago

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🔮 OPPOSITES ATTRACT

synopsis. a quiet slytherin and a loud gryffindor find themselves on a chilly evening, which results in something unexpected — at least for people around them. the oldest weasley’s daughter finds herself infatuated with nott’s only child and vice versa, even if their worlds seem so different, being apart just doesn’t feel right.

notes. theodore nott x weasley!reader. slightly sunshine x grumpy (pretend you’re a ginger if ur not). part 2 containing the date, thoughts?

theodore nott never thought he would be given a chance to love and be loved, upon all the terrible mistakes he has made. and maybe it seemed silly for a sixteen years old to say, but with an upcoming war, he wasn’t so sure if he could live through it.

theodore nott never thought he would have someone to call his own, someone to help him, when times get tough or someone who would understand him wordlessly. to be fair, theodore nott never thought he deserved anything like that, so the surprise on his face, when he found someone who was involuntarily willing to be his person was enormous.

he was walking around the crowded streets of the city, the dim lighting allowing him to see muggles running around with different expression on every other face he has passed — some of them were happy, cheering the slowly creeping holiday on them, some of them were exhausted and/or angry, probably from trying to find a perfect gift for someone and failing. just watching them gave him some sort of comfort, he had never had to look for gifts too much, his father wasn’t keen on being all festive and christmas was just any other day. the exception itself was looking for presents for his friends, which never had troubled him so much he looked exhausted.

he was in his thoughts, when he felt like he collided with someone. his eyebrows were squinted as he looked down on the red-haired girl, whose face was all red, either from cold or embarrassment. though, there was something so familiar about the girl that made him study her face for a brief second, the tea stain on his unzipped jacket didn’t seem to bother him at all, not as much as the familiarity of the girl.

“oh my god, i am so sorry, sir.” she let out ashamed that she didn’t look where she was going and that she probably ruined someone’s evening with her no sugar, lemon tea. it was then, when the familiar girl finally gave up and looked at the person she rudely bumped into.

“nott?” her words weren’t coated with layers of disgust and regret that out of all the people in london that night, she bumped into theodore nott. her words had surprised and confused undertones, almost as if she didn’t mind seeing him there. now, he obviously recognized his attacker — y/n weasley, a girl he sits behind in history of magic, a twin sister of potter’s best friend, someone who should hate him with burning passion.

“are you alright?” redhead’s question took him off guard.

theo was expecting something else, like a mockery of the fact that he was walking amongst muggles without hexing them all. though to be honest, theodore never hated muggles, well, yeah, he said some stupid shit, when he was younger and he was far from proud, but it was the need to appease his father. he definitely didn’t expect to see the worried manner in her, her brows scrunched as she tried to read his emotions, while standing in front of him in silence.

“theo…?” repeated y/n. he wasn’t alright and he didn’t know if he should show it. for merlin’s sake, he really wanted to get so much things out of his system, but venting to a weasley? he knew better than that — she would probably go around, and spread out the word about everything she heard from him.

nott was about to mumble something in response, when her eyes flickered with concern, demolishing all his justification why shouldn’t he talk to her for longer than needed. she was genuine, not caring that ron and harry weren’t on a good terms with him, she wanted to know, and help if possible.

so, theo simply gave up the act. “uh, no. not really.” he confessed, confirming all the suspicions she got to gather from observing him for a few minutes, when he thought of an answer. her expression changed from concerned to slightly sad, even.

before the boy could realize, he was sat in one of the small coffee shops beside her, a half empty, steamy cup of hot chocolate in his hands as they talked. something was so incredibly off about the way they conversed, first time in a while, he never wanted to conversation to end, just like when he was talking to his friends. his body itched at the thought that soon both of them would have to come to their respective houses and the talk would be just a memory that never happened again.

he had to admit that y/n’s presence was soothing. it was like the smell of a freshly printed new book, a cigarette on a foggy morning, a sensation of someone’s nails gently scratching the inside of his palm. the last one was a habit his mom developed to calm him down before she died, leaving him with an aching need for someone to find out about his perk and do it when he needs.

her muffled laughter filled his ears as he watched the girl cover her lips with a palm, he couldn’t help but smile. the gloomy atmosphere that he brought with his tiny vent was long gone, since she declared it her mission to make him feel better. so, since he wasn’t a big talker himself, she let him listen to all the stories from when she was growing up. even though he never experienced a family like hers, a family that cared for each other, it was comforting.

his eyes darted to the clock hung up on a wall, followed by hers and a long sigh that left his lips. his fingers ran through his curls as he parted his lips to bid goodbyes, though y/n was faster. “we could meet up here some other time, if you want.” she gave him a shy smile, the one he never thought he would see on her face.

y/n weasley wasn’t the shy type of girl, she was a big talker, a smart-ass with witty comebacks and a obnoxiously loud aura coating her small frame, though right now, upon his gaze that wandered around her face for quite some time now, she grew shyer.

“uh.” stuttered theo. “yeah, i guess it’s a good idea.” his reply made her smile go bigger, and in the back of his head, it felt like a reward for the decision he just made, some kind of reassurance that he did something good.

“perfect.” she grinned, taking the two of their cups and taking them to the shop’s kitchen, revealing that either she works there, or she’s just insanely crazy for barging into someone’s workplace as an unwanted stranger. “there’s a fireplace in the back.” weasley added, taking his hand in hers before he could even refuse (he wouldn’t though).

the tips of her long nails gently grazed his palm, when she led him the back, greeting a few of her coworkers. her touch on his skin ached, almost burnt, although if that’s what the insides of a normal, fireplace without floo powder felt like, he could grow to like it, only if a part of her body was pressed against his. few minutes later theo’s hand felt empty as he watched her disappear in green flames, having bid their goodbyes.

***

theo hated that feeling. this warm, strange feeling that coated his heart whenever he thought about the obnoxious gryffindor, who he met at those muggle streets. nevertheless, he found himself unable to think about someone else. he was replying to a letter pansy has sent him, and the only thing he had on his mind was y/n, he wondered if ginny told her about her little getaways with theo’s best friend, if all her brothers got back to their house, and — if she thought about him.

his hands throbbed. his fingers wrapped tightly around the quill, before putting it down on his deck. why on earth would he text her? it was one accidental meeting at some crowded street, one conversation that shouldn’t mean anything to them.

nott squeezed his eyes, the muscles on his face tensed as he focused on the paper in front of him, scribbling down a few words in his neat handwriting. a long sigh has left his lips, his eyes tracing the sentence he wrote for her. shit, why would he even do that? if any of his friends knew, he’d have been doomed — one weasley hanging around their friend group was enough, but he didn’t want to push draco nor blaise’s limits.

on a christmas’ eve, he went out for another walk, slightly hoping in the back of his mind that he’d accidentally bump into her again. this time, theodore would make sure to hear her laugh more often, to see her teeth, when she smiles or to watch as she gets shyer upon his gaze on her face.

his feet got him into a familiar looking café, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion — he couldn’t pinpoint from where he knew the place — and looked around. then, he heard it.

“theo!” a female voice rang in his ears. the boy turned his face, a smile slipping onto his lips as he realized where he was. the god damned café y/n was working at. “what can i get you?” a grin spread across her face, visibly delighted to see him there, almost as if she hoped for it.

her forearms laid on the counter as her body leaned a little closer, her hair pinned up in a ponytail that probably got ruined during her shift from running around the place, having a chat with each customer every now and then, a pinkish tint on her cheeks, maybe from the heat in the back or maybe, because he was there.

it took him a second to realize that he was staring with his mouth slightly parted. “uh—” he stuttered, getting a small, barely audiable giggle in response. “i just came to see you.” he blurted out. thank god his ears were covered by the beanie, because just by saying those six words got him all flustered.

“theo.” his name sounded so well coming from her. theodore wanted to hear it again, again, and again. it was melodic, like most beautiful song he’s ever heared. how could he get so whipped after one hangout?

“i hoped you’d come by.” she confessed shyly. “i have something for you in the back, could you give me five minutes? i gotta tell the manager i’m taking a break.” she beamed at him sweetly, rushing off to the back, taking off the green apron that hung on her waist in the meantime.

when she came back, she was still wearing the café’s shirt with a small, green logo, black jeans, and was carefully walking towards his table with a neatly wrapped package and on a top of that a plate with a big piece of some sort of chocolate cake, two drinks (the same as last time), and a cookie. her hair wasn’t in a ponytail anymore, ginger strands falling into her shoulders as she gave him the sweetest smile he’d ever seen.

“you– you got me something?” a question left theo’s mouth, leaving him all surprised — the strange feeling warming him up from the inside. he took a big sip of the hot chocolate in front of him, hardly minding that he burnt his tongue, he didn’t want to say anything stupid. “y/n, we talked once and you… got me something?” he asked once again, not believing his own eyes.

the girl just smiled wider, passing the box towards him. “uh. yeah.” she answered, shrugging. “last time, you said that you never really celebrated christmas the right way, so… please open it.” she tried explaing herself, but gave up at the end, pushing the box further with her fingertips. “please?”

shit.

if she didn’t ask, if she didn’t give him those eyes and that smile. maybe he would be able to refuse, think of some lame excuse that wouldn’t hurt her feelings and give her the box back. but y/n was so sweet, and thought of him hard enough to prepare him a gift.

for half a second, theodore could see something flicker in her eyes, when his lean fingers gently pulled the green ribbon, ripping the gift paper afterwards. the gift turned out to be a sweater, a hand-made one that made the feeling come back to him.

the sweater was dark green, in the similar shade of his tie or the snake symbol on his robes, it had a large, dark blue letter T with a silver outline. his eyes scanned the piece of clothing, the corner of his lips going slightly upwards. “you got me your mom’s iconic sweater?” asked theo.

his mind was filled with different thoughts and emotions right now. he could never call y/n weasley a sweet girl, not because it wasn’t true, but because it would be an understatement — she was the sweetest, or at least somewhere in that range. his cheeks almost hurt from smiling at her, and never in his life nott had felt it.

“actually…” her cheeks started getting a little more pinkish than usual. “it’s based on my mom’s sweaters, i did it on my own. it might not be perfect—" y/n started rambling in nervousness, afraid that the boy won’t be happy about getting a meaningless piece of fabric from her.

“y/n, i love it.” theodore’s words were like honey to y/n’s ears, she gave him a small smile, not really expecting him to gently grab her hand out of sudden. the reason behind it? even theo didn’t know (probably to ease her nerves).

when he realized what he did, he wanted to take his hand back and mutter a quiet apology, the crime scene awkward as much as only possible. although, from the corner of his eye, he noticed that the pink on her face intensified, few more minutes of skin-to-skin contact, and she would turn into a tomato, so his hand stayed on hers, taking the chance and intertwining their fingers together.

“would you– uh,” the redhead started, stumbling over her own words, easily losing focus, each time his thumb stroked her hand, a tiny smirk hovering over his lips. “like to, uh, come here once in a while, you know… until the break’s over? keep me company, maybe?”

and he did. how couldn’t he? this girl was constantly on his mind ever since she bumped into him on the streets and spent literal hours at the café.

although, beside just keeping her company during the winter break — but also at school. he grew so fond of her (and believe me, it worked both ways) that cutting their fresh friendship short was something he couldn’t let happen. so… even though her younger sister was already swaying her way into theodore’s friend group, y/n seemed like a different topic.

theodore nott liked sharing. as unbelievable as it sounds, he really did. whenever he had something he enjoyed, he was willing to share, he was the type of person to give away his last cigarette to one of his friends, but the thought of sharing y/n weasley never crossed his mind. he wanted her all to himself, so… their hangouts always contained just the two of them.

small study dates in the library, late night walks around the courtyard, meet-ups in the room of requirement, picnics in the astronomy tower, while smoking some pot and cigarettes together.

back then, it felt strictly platonic. even if they called it their little dates, nott had a feeling they weren’t moving past the friendship line, while his emotions towards the girl were getting more and more serious. nevertheless, theodore was confident, but not confident enough to ask her out — to confess his silly crush without the fear creeping up on him that y/n would reject him and turn his dreams into nightmares.

***

the weather outside was getting better with each day until spending time inside the castle was unbearable. it was around the time, theo decided to finally push his luck and ask the girl of his dream out. ever since he woke up, he was nervously fidgeting with everything that got to his hands and when then classes were to start, it only got worse.

“you alright, theo?” a whisper left y/n’s mouth as she stood next to him in potions, her elbow nudging him lightly, trying to catch his attention.

merlin. the way his name sounded so wonderful on her tongue. if it wasn’t for the small attention-grabber, he would definitely accidentally ignore the question to daydream about how sweetly her voice is.

“no, i mean– yes, yes i am.” he stuttered. “i just– can i ask you a question?” she nodded, making his stomach turn around. “would you, uh– like to go out to hogsmeade with me? like on a date?” the question left his lips.

his throat went dry as he waited years for an answer (which was actually just about two seconds, theo’s brain just got really dramatic from stress), legs giving up, so he had to lean his palms on the table.

“f’course.” weasley grinned, not minding the blush that spread all over her face, just from the ask. “i thought you’d never ask, really.” she giggled, turning her eyes away for a second, before flashing him another beam of hers.

nott’s face was now bright pink. “i– what?” he was struggling to form a logical sentence. “you wanted me to–?” the boy was supposed to finish his thought, though it didn’t really sit well with snape who interrupted their little talk, postponing it until the evening.

the two of them were walking somewhere outside, laughing about something so insignificant, when the situation from classes popped into his mind. “so… about that date. you really want to?” asked nott.

he expected any kind of answer — yes, no, maybe, you should guess, nah — whatever was only possible. however, the feeling of her lips on his wouldn’t cross his mind. she kissed him. y/n has kissed him, leaving him breathless, when she pulled away.

“does that answer your question?” redhead chuckled, her fingers still curled up against the collar of his white shirt. he shook his head, still mind-blown. “yes, theodore faustus nott, i was dying to hear you ask me out on a date. whatever we have between us, i wanted it to move forward and go on a date with you.”

she laughed. “you really think i’d spend hours crotcheting a sweater for a guy i met few days earlier if i didn’t feel something? theo, i almost passed out when you touched my hand months ago.” another laugh left her lips that were now so close to his, clouding his mind with one certain thing.

upon hearing all those words, the boy couldn’t stop himself anymore, he pressed his mouth against hers, savouring the moment. cherishing the fact that she wanted him like he wanted her.

“the date is still a thing, yeah?” y/n smiled as her nose brushed his.

“you’re gonna love it.” he answered, grinning.

#theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #pansy parkinson x ginny weasley #harry potter fic #harry potter fanfiction #theodore nott fic #theo nott x you #theo nott fic #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys fic #theo nott rec

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oaksgrove · 20 days ago

Text

A Captain for Christmas

pairing: John Price x Reader

synopsis: You’ve been Kyle “Gaz” Garrick’s best friend for years, but this Christmas, he’s determined to play matchmaker. From mistletoe ambushes to not-so-subtle hints, he won’t rest until you and Captain Price have a holiday romance for the books.

word count: 1085

warnings: None, just fluff, holiday cheer, and meddling best friends!

a/n: It's almost christmas so thats my gift for y'all. Merry Christmas mates! <3

Captain’s New Year, A Captain for Christmas sequel!

The invitation came out of nowhere.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Gaz said, waving the 141’s Christmas dinner invite in front of you like a golden ticket. “Good food, good company… You’re not going to sit at home eating instant noodles again, are you?”

You shot him a flat look. “It was once, Kyle. And I was tired.”

“Whatever you say,” he teased, grinning as he dropped onto the couch beside you. “But you’re coming. No arguments.”

You sighed, already sensing you weren’t going to win this one. And maybe, just maybe, a small part of you didn’t want to.

That’s how you ended up at the 141’s Christmas dinner party, clutching a mug of mulled wine and feeling entirely out of place. The room was warm and lively, filled with laughter and the soft clinking of glasses. But you couldn’t shake the nerves curling in your stomach like an unwelcome guest.

The team was kind, welcoming in their own way, but it was obvious they shared a bond you couldn’t quite touch. You watched the way they bantered, teased, and laughed—years of trust woven into every word. It made you ache for something you couldn’t quite name.

“Relax,” Gaz whispered beside you, leaning in with a nudge. “They’re just people.”

“Intimidating people,” you muttered, your eyes flicking toward Captain John Price at the head of the table.

He had an air about him—quiet, commanding, the kind of presence that filled a room without trying. Yet, when he caught Soap’s wild hand gestures and chuckled under his breath, there was something so… human about him.

“Don’t let the beard fool you,” Gaz said with a smirk. “He’s not as grumpy as he looks.”

Before you could respond, Price’s deep voice cut through the din. “Kyle, aren’t you going to introduce us to your guest?”

Your cheeks flushed as all eyes turned toward you.

“This,” Gaz said, clapping a hand on your shoulder, “is my best mate. Been through thick and thin together.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Price said, his tone polite but curious as his eyes settled on you. He extended a hand, and you shook it, your palm warm against his.

“Likewise,” you managed, though the butterflies in your stomach were threatening to take flight.

The night carried on, and you started to relax—or at least fake it well enough. Soap’s loud laughter and over-the-top stories were impossible not to enjoy, and the food was something out of a holiday dream.

Still, your gaze kept drifting to Price. The way his eyes softened when he spoke to his team, the quiet authority in his posture. But it wasn’t just that. It was the way he looked at you—noticing when your glass was empty, offering a subtle smile when you caught him glancing your way.

And those glances… they made your heart stutter.

Gaz, ever the sharp-eyed friend, leaned in close. “You’re smitten,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

“Am not,” you shot back, glaring at him.

He grinned, leaning back smugly. “You’re terrible at lying.”

You wanted to argue, but the truth lodged itself in your throat. Because the fact was, you were smitten. And you hated how obvious it was.

As the night moved to gift exchanges and drinks in the sitting room, you noticed Gaz was acting… strange. Disappearing and reappearing with that mischievous glint in his eye that meant trouble. You didn’t think much of it until Soap’s exaggerated gasp drew everyone’s attention.

“Oi, what’s this?”

You turned to see him pointing at the doorway, where a sprig of mistletoe dangled conspicuously.

“Who put that there?” Soap asked, his grin wide enough to split his face.

Gaz raised his hand nonchalantly. “Festive spirit, mate. Thought it’d add to the ambiance.”

Your stomach dropped. You shot him a look that promised retribution, but before you could say a word, you noticed Price looking at the mistletoe. Then at you.

For a moment, he hesitated, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he stepped forward, his movements deliberate but gentle.

“Tradition’s tradition,” he said softly, holding out his hand.

Your heart raced as you placed yours in his. The world seemed to hold its breath as he leaned in, pressing a warm, fleeting kiss to your cheek.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmured, his breath brushing your skin.

Your cheeks burned, and you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Merry Christmas, Captain.”

The room erupted into cheers and whistles, Soap’s voice loudest of all. “Get in there, Price!”

But you barely heard them, too caught up in the way Price’s blue eyes lingered on yours, like he was seeing something he wasn’t quite ready to let go of.

Later, when the room had quieted and you’d stepped out onto the porch for some air, you replayed the moment in your mind. Your hand drifted to your cheek, the warmth of his kiss still lingering there.

The door creaked open behind you, and you turned to see Price stepping out, his coat slung over his arm.

“Thought I’d find you here,” he said, his voice calm and steady as always.

You smiled faintly. “Needed some air.”

He nodded, leaning against the railing beside you. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet hum of the night wrapping around you like a blanket.

“Gaz… he’s been meddling, hasn’t he?” Price asked, his lips twitching into a small smile.

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “He’s not exactly subtle.”

“No, he’s not,” Price agreed, the amusement in his voice unmistakable.

Silence settled again, but this time it felt different—heavier, more charged. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, taking in the way the soft glow of the porch light caught the edges of his beard.

“For what it’s worth,” he said finally, his voice low and sincere, “I’m glad he did.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding so loud you were sure he could hear it.

“If you’re free,” he continued, his gaze meeting yours, steady and warm, “I’d like to take you out. Properly. No meddling sergeants involved.”

You blinked, the words sinking in slowly. Then, a smile broke across your face—soft, nervous, but genuine.

“Alright, Captain,” you said, your voice teasing but light. “You’ve got yourself a date.”

And as the two of you stepped back inside, Gaz’s smug grin waiting for you, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this Christmas was the start of something far greater than you ever imagined.

#call of duty #call of duty fanfic #call of duty modern warfare #cod 141 #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mwii #john price #john price x reader #captain price #captain price x reader #price x reader

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bluebirdsfeathers · 19 days ago

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Christmas with Agatha and Rio would include:

──────･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

Relationship: Agatha x Rio x Reader.

Summary: warm cozy fluff for the holidays of reader spending Christmas with Agatha and Rio

A/N: writing this bc i’ve gotten sick again and it’s Christmas and i’m upset and in pain but hopefully i wont have to go to hospital again before the new year. Writing this made me happy :)

──────･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

☆ You wake up first on christmas day and excitedly wake up Agatha. She’s grumpy at first until she sees the joy on your face.

☆ Rio had stayed up all night waiting to see the magical Santa. You didn’t realize she believed you when you told her about him.

☆ Rio and Agatha have never really celebrated Christmas before but want to make sure you have a good day.

☆ Rio had grown a tree in the living room and you all decorated it with crystals and other magical items. Presents were carefully wrapped and placed under it waiting for the big day.

☆ Opening gifts from each other. Each gift clearly had a lot of thought put into it.

☆ You were given some potions ingredients and a new tarot deck. Agatha a new collection of spell books, and Rio had a new knife.

☆ You and Agatha cuddle on the sofa watching christmas movies. Agatha complains loudly about the poor decision making of the characters.

☆ Rio refusing any help in the kitchen as she cooks Christmas dinner. Magically growing all the vegetables as she does. Her just wanting it to be perfect despite not actually needing to eat.

☆ After dinner all three of you sit by the fire. You fiddle with the new set of tarot cards you’d gotten, Agatha reads her new book and Rio sharpens her brand new knife.

☆ You enjoy some Christmas biscuits and a hot chocolate with your two favourite people. Repeatedly telling them how grateful you are they did this for you.

☆ Agatha confessing a love for the non-witch tradition of christmas. Saying they will definitely be doing this every year now. Rio agrees, despite still being disappointed santa isn’t real, even suggesting she could become some kind of Christmas Witch (lol)

☆ Before long it’s bedtime. You change into your matching christmas pajamas and snuggle up in bed. All of you tired from the long day full of joy, love and laughter.

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kaiserposting · 19 days ago

Text

Michael Kaiser — Scream Blue Murder

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 6.6k TYPE: Break up & Make up, Humor primarily, Light Angst(??), Argument Resolution, Birthday and Christmas fic WARNING(S): None ?

Excitement is bubbling up inside of Ness’s whole being. Maybe this would be a dramatic sentiment coming from anyone else, but in his case it’s not an exaggeration.

The cause of this excitement is, to others, a given. But again in the circumstances of Ness’s upbringing, a Christmas celebration with actual people instead of a guilty ritual in his head is unique. Because of the overwhelming pseudo intellectualism permeating his childhood circumstances (which, while, yes, his parents are well educated scientists, and he can acknowledge their acuity to an extent, a lot of their conventions were in fact arbitrary and ridiculous), Christmas was banned in his home. Among other things.

It was very uncomfortable in hindsight and this choice led to potent social alienation among his peers, and might have even contributed to the isolation he suffered in adolescence.

There were times where, for example, before Christmas break, his class would do gift exchanges. He wasn’t allowed to participate and neither was he allowed to skip, so he had to sit there every year and endure the whole process of disappointing his Secret Santa buddy by not bringing anything — which is humiliating enough — and then carry the knowledge that he’ll have to throw out what he got later too, if found. And to be honest, Ness was the type of person who always ended up being found out by his parents.

He couldn’t even play pretend with his classmates in peace when he was in elementary school. Looking back on it, that has to be a little excessive.

But anyway. Bastard München Christmas day trip with teammates and Kaiser’s birthday all-in-one combo. Yay.

Of course, there was a choice to opt out and go back home to see family, which annoying people like Yoichi took because he presumably has a support system or whatever, but what’s important is that Kaiser is here with him on this day.

Ness doesn’t need much from Kaiser to be happy, he reassures himself, just breathing alongside each other is enough. The reason he’s pondering this to begin with is that Kaiser forbade him from even buying him a present (Ness wasn’t so optimistic to think he’d receive one, but he can’t even give?) — again, a little excessive, but isn’t everything in his life…

Since Kaiser went over to your place last night the last he heard from him, Ness is a little surprised to see you standing with your arms crossed near the bus, waiting by your lonesome. No Kaiser in sight. You look a bit grumpy and disheveled, too.

Ness decides not to think too much about it as all the attending teammates start showing up one by one.

Even Kaiser, who has trouble waking up in the morning, makes it before the designated time somehow. Though upon his arrival, much to Ness’s confusion he doesn’t look as impeccable as usual, plagued by puffy eyes and a red nose.

Is the cold being particularly unkind to him? Ness tries to explain the sight to himself.

The second oddity is that instead of joining your side like expected, he struts up to Ness and stands there. His posture is stiff and his facial expression more irritable than yours had been.

Is Kaiser choosing him over you? Is this the so-called Christmas miracle his parents didn’t believe in?

Trying to seem casual and not unhinged with ecstasy, Ness says, “Good morning, Kaiser.”

“Morning.”

“Happy birthday!”

“Thanks,” Kaiser replies in an ungrateful tone.

Well, he is not giving him much to work with, but all things in life come at a price. Ness doesn’t let Kaiser’s shitty attitude dampen his spirits. If such a thing were enough to ward him off, he supposes maybe he’d be in a better place, both mentally and in his career. But because he is who he is, he just lets his lips curl up in his usual turtle smile and stands there waiting to get on the bus, hands clasped behind his back as he gives off this vague aura of sparkling.

___

Kurona is sleepy.

It’s no good they decided to take off at five in the morning, but he can doze off on the bus, he supposes, and when he looked it up last night, it seemed that the drive would be long.

He is among the first to enter and sits down to dutifully wait for Hiori.

These plans are disrupted when you plop down next to him instead, but Kurona kind of doesn’t care enough to protest or ask you to move. You don’t talk with him much otherwise.

He assesses how comfortable the seat is while you untangle your earphone wires. It seems to give you a bit of trouble, but Kurona is too shy to offer his help, so he settles on staring at your movements deadpan.

Kaiser and Ness decide to take the seats in front, but he pays them no mind. Now that he thinks about it, shouldn’t you be sitting with Kaiser instead? He expects Kaiser to maybe make some catty remark about this transgression, yet it never comes.

Instead he peers at you from the crack between his seat and Ness’s in this unsettling sort of way. His eyes are slightly bloodshot, or at least Kurona thinks so, but maybe it’s his sleep deprived imagination. Besides, when is Kaiser not being creepy.

He crams his arm into the space somehow and puts up his middle finger.

You blink in surprise at first because of the sudden intrusion, then scowl and roll your eyes while Kaiser retrieves the offending arm and glares at you again.

“Stop making your rectal myopia everyone else’s problem,” you say as if this is some ongoing discussion and Kurona is catching you in the middle of a conversation. Which is kind of weird, since he’s pretty sure you and Kaiser haven’t spoken a single word to each other the entire morning prior to this.

“Oh yeah, and you’re The Virgin of Guadalupe,” says Kaiser with a hateful huff, before turning back around. Somehow he manages to put a lot of attitude into this motion.

Rectal myopia? The Virgin of Guadalupe?

Trouble in paradise for the couple. Tragedy, tragedy.

Despite the weirdness of what transpired, Kurona decides he doesn’t care and flutters his eyes closed without trouble. He dreams about riding a shark back to Japan.

___

The drive takes seven hours and less than thirty minutes, which according to the tour leader was ‘quick’.

Berlin seems greener and more cosmopolitan than Munich to Hiori, but then again he’s a nobody and he’s an expert in nothing, which he is also quite content with. The group makes it to the hotel they’ll be doing a one night stay in and there is scheduled rest time until some activities in a few hours.

Hiori is having to room with Kurona and Yukimiya, who decide to take it easy. In all honesty he’s a bit bored. His late nights staying up and playing online grant him immunity to this type of malaise, so he decides to go out and walk around by himself, possibly wander off outside even if it’s not the wisest choice.

This trek leads him down to the lobby, where he sees you having some long winded conversation with the receptionist. Though to her face you seem amicable and accepting of the outcome regarding whatever you were requesting, once you turn around so your back is on her, it’s obvious you are seething.

Out of boredom, Hiori approaches. Kind of gingerly as if skirting around a land mine. “What’s up? Did something happen?”

“I got put in a room with Michael and Alexis.”

“Oh, that’s great.”

“No, it isn’t. I was asking them if I can pay to go somewhere else, but the girl said no.”

“Huh? Wait, why? Isn’t Kaiser your boyfriend? Shouldn’t you be happy about that?”

“No, I'm not happy. He’s an ass, and he’s ungrateful, and he’s mean, and he looks like a mop. The first adult case of anencephaly, surely.”

Hiori blinks, continuing to smile with his insect eyes wide open and peering into your soul. “What?”

“It’s like a longer way of saying he doesn’t have a brain,” you explain in a rush. Then you wrap a scarf around your neck and move as if you’re about to leave the lobby.

“Going somewhere?”

“I will be back before the ‘activity’.”

“No power nap?”

“No.”

“D’ya wanna sleep with me, Yukimiya and Kurona in our room tonight? If you’re fighting with Kaiser and they ain’t letting you move.”

“I’ll think about it and tell you later, if you don’t mind.”

Hiori continues smiling, and sends you off with a smooth and somehow delicate wave of his hand.

___

Yukimiya is in a pleasant mood. Like, he’s not too happy, but he’s experiencing mild contentment. He’s also pretty sure Hiori is fucking with Kaiser on purpose, same deceptive and listless smile on his face as always. They’re kind of similar in that way.

They’ve gathered in a circle, the three of them because he doesn’t really get on with anyone else, waiting for everyone to arrive so they can head off to one of Berlin’s Christmas markets. Kurona is quiet as usual, not offering much to the conversation (though he doesn’t need to since his presence by itself is generally appreciated) while Hiori and Yukimiya talk. He’s not even sure Kurona is listening to be honest, but he wouldn’t blame him if he weren’t.

And Kaiser is glaring at the back of Hiori’s head.

“So they were asking to go to another room, but the receptionist refused, so I offered to let them stay with us. Y’all don’t mind, right?”

“No trouble, no trouble,” Kurona allows with a blank face and even tone, displaying his generosity.

Yeah, he’s definitely doing it on purpose. Otherwise he wouldn’t have been talking about it so much — Hiori must be getting a kick out of pissing Kaiser off. Yukimiya doesn’t believe for a second that he’s oblivious to the holes Kaiser’s staring into his head. Hiori is not stupid, and everyone can tell by now you and your boy toy have been having some kind of fight, and it’s obvious neither of you is happy about it despite clinging to the conflict.

Yukimiya closes his eyes and joins Hiori in on the blithe smiling ritual. Because he’s feeling pleasant today, and then he adds, “I guess if they accept, they can pick who to share the bed with.” Of course such a thing is unlikely to happen, but it’s not fair that only Hiori is getting to further sour Kaiser’s mood.

Yukimiya glances at Kaiser, who looks like he is about to shit himself in anger, for about a second and then focuses his attention back on Hiori in front of him. The sky is pure white and the ground is coated in snow. Today is a good day.

___

The Christmas marketplace afternoon is not turning out to be any fun. Gesner is regretting going. He’s sure everyone else is regretting going, actually — it’s like a lame school trip, but he’s not twelve anymore, so he can’t enjoy it at all.

There aren’t any baddies around to flirt with anyway, just mothers with children who probably don’t want anyone to bother them during the bustle of this commercialist holiday nightmare.

To make himself feel better, he engages in some recreational complaining about all the first world problems he’s had today while walking around all the vendors with the rest of the group.

“And I’ve got a crick in my neck because the fucking bus seats were not comfortable at all. Not to mention waking up at four is inhumane. Seriously, who funded this shit,” he says.

Grim has this solemn expression on, staring at Gesner with pensive sadness and a vague sense of understanding. If he were speaking to anyone other than Grim, maybe it would’ve been encouraging, but this is Grim’s default state of being and not a unique comprehension of how grave and serious Gesner’s frustrations are, so it’s kind of whatever.

“Also,” continues Gesner regardless, “Kaiser and the manager are being such annoying dick cheeses, arguing like little kids. Passive aggressive babies. Should’ve stayed back in Munich if you ask me.”

“So immature,” Grim says, still dour.

“I’m right behind you,” Kaiser pipes up.

Gesner clicks his tongue and talks over Kaiser, addressing Grim still. “You’re such a smegma too. Fuck you all.”

“Love is withering and fading all around on the day of the Messiah’s birth. How hilarious and yet poignant.”

“Seriously, shut the fuck up.” At the same time, “Stop talking about me like I’m not here you fucking lowlifes.”

“During my silence you will hear nature’s white noise as spirits mourn us in festivity.”

“Oh my god. You’re just saying random words, dick cheese.”

Gesner stomps away and gets lost somewhere else in the crowd. He doesn’t bother to turn around and apologize or otherwise acknowledge Kaiser’s existence.

___

It’s not the best thing in the world. Kiyora is bored, but he’s bored most days, so it’s not exceptionally horrible either. Even as a child, he wasn’t the type to get excited about Christmas, so there isn’t even any lost novelty. It’s all just bland and not special at all to him, though he admits he doesn’t mind getting free shit no matter the season.

There is an ice rink, so he thinks to try and pull off break dancing, but a dent forms in his plans when you approach him.

“I don’t know how to skate,” you say, in place of a greeting.

Not knowing what to do with this information and without seeing how it’s relevant to him, Kiyora replies with, “‘Kay.”

“Can I… Like… With you?”

He is annoyed, but doesn’t betray it with any unnecessary facial twitches or even with an attitude. Well, you’re the manager, so he supposes he can humor you.

He pulls you along with him, not letting you stay glued to the railing because then that would mean he’d have to be like that, too. Maybe if he were more considerate he’d be slow and gentle, but he doesn’t want to skate like that, so he just drags you along while you’re clumsy on your feet.

You don’t even chat. But it’s not uncomfortable or tense to be so silent — at least to him. Things of the sort don’t bother him. He’s immune to secondhand embarrassment and awkwardness. Besides, you’ve been in a mood ever since he first saw you in the morning and there has been no improvement, so he doubts you even want to talk to him.

Though the fact that it’s not uncomfortable doesn’t mean it’s fun. It’s boring like most other things. Everything’s just boring to him most of the time when there is no conflict.

Kiyora flings you into a more complex skating sequence which without much of his support doesn’t work out and you end up tripping and falling on your face. Without a care or a second thought, he skates away from you while you groan in pain to try kick spinning on ice.

___

Something that Ness always admired in Kaiser ever since meeting him is that despite his obvious unhappiness, he’s in control of himself. He holds himself with dignity, cold and calculated. Despite everything Ness really likes that difficult and aloof personality, how he can’t get quite close to him.

But he’s just- different. Nowadays.

It’s not like, a new thing. Kaiser changes all the time, if necessary, an intentional change or a product of someone else’s prodding.

Today he is mopey, bitter and annoying even to Ness’s sensibilities. It’s a big achievement, all things considered, since at one point Ness considered himself impervious to Kaiser’s faults. But Kaiser… won’t stop complaining, won’t stop talking about you, and it’s walking on his last nerve.

Why is he so fucking whiny? Like truly, why? Has he always been like this and Ness just didn’t see it somehow or what? Did you put some spell on him to make him so desperate and pathetic?!

Even now he’s trying to help Kaiser ice skate and he just keeps turning around to glare at you and Kiyora and is overall not listening to anything Ness is telling him, plagued by uncharacteristic absentmindedness, but Ness keeps his stubborn smile in place anyway. No one can defeat him when he sets his mind to do something. Not even Kaiser himself can get in his way of enjoying Christmas with Kaiser, and that’s final.

Or at least that’s what he thinks until the accident happens where you slip and Kiyora leaves you there.

Despite not having the slightest idea, Kaiser lets go of Ness rather brazenly and tries to go and help you up — maybe with the thought this would be a good reconciliation opportunity — but follows suit and falls face first even harder than you did.

Ness stares.

This is it. A monumental moment, something thought impossible before, a mark in history.

… Alexis Ness got the ick from his beloved Kaiser.

Yukimiya ends up helping you up, gallant in a way Kaiser could only be in his imagination. Of course Ness helps him up anyway (such a good samaritan, considering his earlier epiphanies), and you two end up with matching scratches over your foreheads and noses, which makes both of you look about as idiotic as you are.

Ness is fuming.

But he continues to smile — he’s getting kind of concerned for himself if he has to be honest.

___

This marketplace has the biggest Christmas pyramid in Europe inside of it. It’s the kind of thing Ness used to imagine as a kid, so he owes it to himself to go in no matter what. There seem to have been a lot of ‘no matter what's’ involved for him today, as if he’s off to a warzone instead of a fucking Christmas trip with his team, but whatever.

Kaiser doesn’t even give the giant Christmas decoration a glance, too deep into his complaining to pay attention to much of anything. “I didn’t even want to come,” he says, amid the other problems he’s verbalized (except for the most important one, of course, which is that he’s feeling like a wounded animal over whatever you two fought about).

“Then- Then why did you?” asks Ness. Though he thinks Kaiser deserves a bit of snark for ruining the whole day for him, his confusion is also genuine. He knows Kaiser prefers to be in solitude on his birthday, and he’s not festive at all.

“It was just supposed to be different.”

“Well, um, okay.” Ness shuffles in place and looks over to the Christmas pyramid again. It’s gotten dark now, so the glow of its jovial lights makes it appear even more striking. You seem to be heading there, but Ness doesn’t think much of it, trying to voice a desire for once in his life. “I wanna go in and check out the wine.”

Kaiser narrows his eyes, then does his little frown. “I’m not going. Do I look twelve?”

Ness inhales. Seriously, he just wants one thing. He gets it, Kaiser’s having a shit time, but does he need to make it sound like only a stupid child would want to go after Ness voiced the simplest, most mundane wish someone could fucking have at such an event?

Does the planet need to stop spinning just because Kaiser is in a mood?

Huffing and scrunching his nose, he says, “Well, I’ll go by myself then.”

“Suit yourself.”

And he does. In a show of independence and perhaps spite, Ness takes off into a half jog and catches up to you. Kaiser is glaring at him from behind and he can feel it, but he doesn’t care. He’s sitting down next to you and having that mulled wine and that’s final — Kaiser can throw a tantrum about it if it’s so important. Outside. All alone.

God, he’s all guilty and pitying him now, temper fizzling out, but decides to stand on his decision to leave Kaiser to sulk like a scolded puppy by himself.

Ness takes the spot next to you after getting his drink. You seem a bit surprised by his appearance, but try not to let it show and he can still tell anyway.

He won’t ask.

He’s not going to ask what you fought about with Kaiser that’s got him all out of control.

Ness clears his throat and breaks the tentative silence with an awkward question. “So, um, are you enjoying the trip?”

“It’s alright. How about you?”

“Yeah, it’s been great.”

Wow, you two are such shameless liars. Bad at small talk too.

After the initial discomfort, Ness falls into a more normal conversation with you. The jolly music in the background is pleasant, at least to him, and in the avoidance of the topic of Kaiser, he actually gets to speak with you about himself as an individual. He realizes now throughout this that he’d almost forgotten what it’s like.

___

Kaiser’s skin is flushed pink, since it’s so cold outside, and his hair looks mysteriously even worse than usual, probably because of the wind. For someone whose favorite season is winter, it doesn’t seem to do him any favors.

Whatever.

Gesner watches, mildly disturbed, as Kaiser gobbles down his third bratwurst like it personally offended him.

He takes a sip of his shitty overpriced beer that he bought from the same food stall Kaiser got his dinner from. But it’s fine, he doesn’t need to sweat how he can buy the same brand from the supermarket ten minutes away from his house for a few euros cheaper, he has professional athlete money now. No biggie.

After some internal seething over this stupid beer he’s drinking, Gesner says, “So, why don’t you just apologize?”

“Apologize for what? I have nothing to apologize for.”

“Stop being such a dickweed. You’re making everyone uncomfortable.”

“I don’t care if you morons are uncomfortable. And why do you immediately assume I was the one in the wrong?”

“Well, we all know who the more reasonable between the two of you is, so I’m making an educated guess on who started it, whatever it was.”

“Nothing you ever do is educated.”

Kaiser rubs his forehead and sniffs as if the weather is giving him a runny nose, looking all despondent and offended at the same time. This is probably an attack to his sensibilities since he prides himself on being rational, but whatever. Gesner finds this whole ordeal so pathetic, and not in a cute way.

“Ok, do you seriously not care that you ruined it all for Ness? It’s not fun walking around with a wet jerkoff choking on his own angst all Christmas.”

“Listen, I get it, poor Ness. Whatever. But why do I need to force myself to act like nothing’s wrong? It’s my birthday. I’m not some monkey he hired to dance and smile with him if I’m not feeling it. Fuck Ness. Stop whining to me about fucking Ness. He can go fuck himself, no one made him hang around me the entire day if he hates it so much.”

Gesner rolls his eyes. “You’re so obnoxious,” he says.

“Go worry about how you hit on a single mother in front of her kid and the kid made fun of you,” Kaiser snaps.

Gesner takes one more long sip out of the beer can and stares up at the sky, trying to erase the memory of that incident from his head, while Kaiser finishes off the last of his sausage. He could abandon the conversation here, he supposes, go seek more pleasant company, but everyone’s always so acquiescent to Kaiser. No one ever gives it to him straight.

“I’m just saying- I don’t know if you get off on making yourself and everyone around you miserable or something, but this is ridiculous. It’s not making you happy, clearly, and your birthday’s ruined. Just make up with [Y/n] and apologize to Ness too. It’s not that hard.”

Kaiser heaves a theatric, long suffering sigh. “Fine. You’re right.”

Despite his bouts of pride and bullheadedness, Kaiser can admit when someone is making an actual point. Gesner never thought he’d be a name on the list of people who’ve schooled Kaiser, but it feels kinda good.

He picks his one liner to end the conversation, a final and critical utterance to symbolize his verbal victory: “Dick cheese.”

God, he loves saying that.

___

There are so many fairy lights, it’s almost an eyesore.

Grim is walking around along with you and Ness after joining somewhere along the way since Gesner abandoned him. Woe is him. He cannot even shroud himself in darkness because of holiday beautification all over the city. Such merry roistering in a place full of crisis and misery, what with homelessness being so prevalent here. Exuberance can only exist and shine off of someone else’s back…

But Grim has always been fascinated by this sort of dichotomy, the way it follows all facets of life. It’s easy for him to apply his philosophy with its flexibility when he wants to see it, which is all the time. So he also makes everything about his beliefs all the time.

So, the fact that you’ve been having this relationship drama with Kaiser today of all days, intrigues him.

He lets out a bemused wail and clutches at his forehead like a maiden, halting in the middle of the sidewalk. You and Ness stop and look at him curiously.

Grim stares into your eyes. It’s intense, but you don’t flinch. Ness drags his shoe across the ground even though nothing is stuck to it and shuffles in place, jacket making noises along with the movement.

Finally, Grim places his hand on your shoulder, gripping tight. His declaration is dramatic. “You have a kind of frigidity I admire.”

You raise a curious eyebrow.

Grim continues gazing at you with his strangely wet, dark eyes. His pensive delivery continues. “Most people don’t have it in them to ignore and shittalk their boyfriend on his birthday, but you do. You’re coldhearted.”

“Hey, don’t instigate,” says Ness with a worried frown on his face. Poor thing, probably getting irritated that this shit keeps following him around, but what was he thinking going from Kaiser to you.

“I’m not trying to be cold or whatever. I just- you know, it’s about sticking to your principles.”

This isn’t helpful information considering no one knows what this mystical argument was even about. Grim doesn’t care what it was about either and Ness is sick of it, so he won’t inquire either in his hopes of cutting the topic short.

In these circumstances, the silence festers.

Your expression mirrors Ness’s as concern seems to dawn on you while you stare at him. “It’s not too harsh, is it?”

“Well, he wasn’t handling it well,” Ness admits.

“But what am I supposed to do when he’s not budging?!” You string the words together in a haste, fishing for sympathy or confirmation that you were in the right despite what seems like a vague amount of regret setting in.

…

Grim and Ness stare.

“I can’t just let him walk over me because it’s his birthday!”

They glance at each other then back at you and start nodding solemnly in tandem while letting out a few ‘fair’s here and there.

“Maybe I could’ve been kinder, but it’s a matter of principle! I wasn’t thinking clearly, since I was angry! It’s not like Michael is the only one in the world allowed to… to get angry and stop thinking straight. And we all make mistakes. Right? Right?”

The two of them still don’t even know what you did or why you’re trying to justify it so vehemently, but Grim assumes you’re more so reasoning with yourself rather than them. Ness displays the body language of someone whose skin is crawling.

“Misery on Christmas creates such a beautiful juxtaposition,” Grim says, wiping at his forehead again even though the temperature is in the negatives.

You roll your eyes.

Ness checks the time on his phone and fakes dismay over ‘cutting the walk short’ before suggesting heading back to the group meeting spot.

___

Kaiser would never admit it out loud, but he’s quite emotionally fragile and volatile at times. He’s been on edge all day to everyone’s notice, but now even more so on the way back, preparing to apologize or to beg if necessary (though honestly pulling out all the theatrics when wanting to reconcile in kind doesn’t seem like the brightest idea).

After some reflection, he has come to terms with the truth about the argument. Throughout the day he victimized himself in his memories, but it’s not the full picture. Of course Kaiser doesn’t care about painting himself in a virtuous light to his own imagination — being that he enjoys aggrandizing himself through malice — but more so to forget how the whole thing spiraled from a pathetic, wounded kind of spot in his psyche.

He went over to spend the night at your place last night, and then you were supposed to get to the bus before the trip together, but it didn’t happen according to plan.

When it struck midnight and the twenty-fourth became the twenty-fifth you were both still awake watching some pretentious French arthouse movie about an abused donkey which he pretended he picked out at random and not from an ‘intellectual movie list’ he looked up in advance.

Your alarm went off in the middle of the circus scene, and you wrapped your arms around him, gave him a few kisses on his face, then wished him a happy birthday.

Kaiser admits that his knee jerk reaction was irritation, but he held it in and granted you an awkward thanks, squeezing your waist as he returned the embrace.

But then you went off to get the cake you got him and his gift and he kind of freaked out. Not because they were bad, but because you know he hates surprises and he hates celebrating his birthday and why he hates being caught off guard so much to begin with, but went ahead and did it anyway. And, yeah, Gesner was right, he started it — he made some disparaging remark about how you should’ve known better and kept this shit to yourself.

You started digging into him too though, for his reactions, so he bit at you in response, then you refused to back down and it escalated into one of those things where it was more of an insult exchange than a real discussion. Many times you both twisted facts not merely about this instance of disagreement but about the relationship itself, petty and mean.

Kaiser realized he was being a bit ridiculous because he was goading you, and on purpose. He could’ve stopped and done damage control, but made the choice not to. In that moment he wanted to act as ugly as he could and have you accept him and love him in spite of it, so he kept making his own grave, and the more you mouthed off to him and dissected his faults too instead of just taking it, the more he felt hurt and rejected, and the more he lashed out as a result.

Then “Maybe we should just break up then!” flew out of your mouth. He accepted it with a sneer to your face, but really he knew it was mostly his fault, so he cried all night and choked himself before he ended up hollow and empty. He felt like shit and worse, he made you feel like shit too and he let it go on for too long.

He had his reasons for his gripes about the birthday celebration, but he should’ve communicated that more sensibly instead of expecting you to keel over and praise him in the face of his berating. His behavior spurred yours and your response to him spurred him to take it further, but it doesn’t mean he was right. All things considered the beginning of the stupid fight definitely wasn’t something worth losing you over.

But how does he fix it? He said a hundred things he didn’t mean last night and toyed with your temper, tried your sense of self-respect to try and fill the black hole inside of him, always seeking affirmation and reassurance. Please never leave me. Please accept me and coddle me no matter what I do because there are times when I can’t understand anything else. Please love me senselessly.

Which — apparently you’re not willing to do, and that was the cause of his whole dramatic distress. Though it’s probably a good thing how your love is somewhat conditional. Kaiser is glad, in a weird way, that you didn’t let him trample all over you without retaliation.

Do you even want him to try and make nice with you?

He can’t stop thinking about it. To whatever extent and in whatever way he’s capable of, he’s so smitten with you, but this isn’t an oopsie daisy situation where he can brush it off to the side and hope you can forget, what with how out of line he was.

It’s not even something he wants. He wants to say sorry and make proper amends after all this nonsense.

The group is making its way inside the hotel after stepping off the bus when he asks you to stay outside and talk.

You cross your arms and look at him, not seeming too pleased, but more willing to be in his presence than before. “What now?”

“I just…” He runs a hand through his hair and looks off to the side, ignoring your vexed tone. Despite his many mental rehearsals on the ride back, Kaiser never really figured out what to say. “I fucked up so bad. You were trying to be sweet and I acted histrionic and crazy and insulted you over something so dumb, just because I hate surprises and whatever else dumb reasoning I had. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. Can we just… I don’t know, talk about it? I understand if you want to split, but I don’t, and I just wanna say I’m sorry for being unreasonable and… and fucking disrespectful and an ingrate too.”

A flash of surprise appears on your face, as if you hadn’t expected him to apologize, let alone to approach you first about it. Outside of that, he can’t judge what you think about it. His palms are sweaty and the silence, the longer it goes on, seems like it’ll crush in on him, a metaphorical weight, as if he’ll crumble under a mass of nothing.

“Oh, so you admit you were an ingrate?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m an ingrate and you’re always right.” It sounds sarcastic, but he’s trying to have a sense of humor about it.

“Listen, I’m sorry about the birthday thing too… I know you don’t like them-”

“No, no, don’t do that. It doesn’t matter how much I hate them. I could’ve said that like a normal person. Really. I’m sorry.”

“Alright, and… and, uh, I said some nasty things too. About you.”

“Yeah but, fuck, I was insulting you first. I don’t even care anymore, honestly. About you making me a surprise when I hate them and about whatever you said. I didn’t even mean all that shit I was spewing at you, I just- felt hurt and wanted to hurt you back, and it was fucked up of me, and I’m sorry.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry for hurting you by disregarding you saying you hate the birthday celebration stuff and for doing too much with the insults too. I guess, I don’t know, it would’ve felt wrong to me not to give you anything for your birthday, but I should’ve listened to what you wanted anyway. It’s not like I know what you need better than you do.”

“That’s whatever. I’m over it.”

Kaiser stares at you because he doesn’t know what any of this means. You’re not accepting or denying him, just talking about what happened, and your expression is calm. The circumstances are completely unlike last night.

He’s not good at this substantial kind of talk, so he continues to stare, awaiting some kind of divine sign like maybe for you to robotically announce you forgive him, then you’ll interlace your fingers together and run off to skip in a field of flowers together or some such.

“You have a runny nose,” you point out.

“I know. Ignore it. I’m not doing the cocaine sniffle anymore, it’s getting old now.” Kaiser takes a step closer — not enough to encroach, but still desiring more proximity. “Listen, you can throw me a hundred surprises if you want, or hit me or scream at me or insult me for days on end, I just want you to know I really do regret it all. And… Please, don’t let me go.” The last bit is humiliating to speak and his cheeks heat up accordingly.

You step forward too, in his direction, once and then twice, before leaning in to wrap your arms around him, very gently. Relief floods his muscles, which had been tense all day all over in your absence, and Kaiser clings onto you tighter, tries to pull you closer. In the event this is a parting hug, he tries to memorize this sensation. Your warmth, your skin.

“Listen, I don’t want to leave you. Not really… I just don’t want this to be a thing. That you do. You get what I’m saying?”

“No, no, yeah. No more of this, I promise. I want to do right by you.”

Kaiser feels surprised that he means it.

“I love you, so I don’t really want to break up,” you whisper. It’s not your first time telling him you love him, but this instance is fragile and hesitant as if it is a novelty, though to be fair hearing it from your lips always makes his heart flutter.

He kisses you on the forehead and tells you he loves you too, which he means more than anything as well. Kaiser doesn’t think he’ll be pulling that shit anymore and so lightly either, not when it could cost him so much. The two of you hold each other in the snow for a few minutes longer, not wanting to move and disrupt your own reunion.

Kaiser can’t help feeling a bit happy and self-satisfied since he’s prevented you from moving to fuckass Hiori and Yukimiya’s room. They were totally taunting him earlier and he hopes they never score regular spots ever again.

___

Today’s main event for the trip is visiting something called ‘The Christmas Garden’.

Kurona examines the flowers, because what else is he supposed to do in a garden? Meanwhile Hiori’s watching you and Kaiser, seemingly enjoying each other’s company again despite yesterday’s malaise. You’re even holding hands and all.

“I think they made up,” Hiori says.

“Yesterday it was a calamity. Calamity.” Despite calling it a calamity, he doesn’t sound particularly invested when he replies.

“I was telling Isagi about it over LINE. He was happy Kaiser got dumped, but I guess no. Must’ve been just a fight then.”

It’s not interesting since you’re no longer wanting to beat each other up with hammers, so Hiori redirects his gaze back to Kurona again, who’s watching the flora in total disinterest. So then Hiori also fixes his face into one of neutrality and starts watching the flora in total disinterest too.

They are so bonding right now without Isagi’s interference!

“I would’ve liked it better if we got to see sharks,” says Kurona.

“There’s an aquarium, so maybe we can sneak off there after this.”

“No, no. I mean here in the garden. Lately I’ve been getting really into sharks in unusual places.”

“… What?”

___

It's the 25th where I am now so happy birthday to Kaiser!!!

#michael kaiser x reader #blue lock x reader #kaiser x reader #bllk x reader #michael kaiser x you #blue lock x you

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rmd-writes · 28 days ago

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It’s the most ✨wonderful✨ time of year! AKA time for the annual RWRB Christmas fic exchange that I do with some friends every year. Would you believe that this is our fourth year doing this?

For the next 8 days, we’ll be posting a fic anonymously each day to the Don We Now (Even More) Gay Fanfiction collection on ao3. I’ll update this post with the links to each fic as they go up. The author reveals will be shared before New Year’s Eve ☺️

I’m so excited to see what everyone’s come up with!

Day 1: Home for the Holidays || M || 9.3k || a gift for @indomitable-love written by me, rmd

When Alex discovers that Henry's Christmas plans involve staying in their apartment alone, he does what any good roommate would do and drags Henry along to his family Christmas at the lake house. It's a win-win situation, since everything is better for Alex when Henry is around. Henry is his person. Completely fucking platonically, of course.

Day 2: Playing For The Other Team || E || 6.1k || a gift for @three-drink-amy written by @everwitch-magiks

Alex is the captain of his college lacrosse team. Henry captains the football team—or the soccer team, depending on who you ask. But if you think either team has their main rival within their own sport, you are very deeply wrong.

Or: two sports teams, both alike in dignity. In the Samson Memorial Stadium, where we lay our scene.

Day 3: The Thirteenth Duke || E || 10.7k || a gift for @villiageidiot written by @clottedcreamfudge

Alex is trying to find himself after his divorce, and Castle Llwynywermod seems like the perfect place to do it. Henry, the grumpy duke who owns the castle in question, strongly disagrees. This can only go well. (An 'A Castle for Christmas' movie fusion fic.)

Day 4: Ho for the Holidays || T || 6k || a gift for yours truly written by @villiageidiot

It sort of starts on New Year's Eve, although maybe it's actually Valentine's Day. But probably St. Patrick's Day. Well, whenever it starts, it ends on Christmas, but for good reason. Holiday hook-ups can only stay hook-ups for so long.

Day 5: Making a List, Checking it Twice || E || 18.6k || a gift for @athousandrooms & @dustratcentral written by @welcometololaland

When Alex lands a job house-sitting for an international man of mystery, he’s more than a little intrigued. According to Nora, the owner of the Brooklyn brownstone is a spy. According to June, he’s a prince. Alex is convinced his employer is a fifty-year-old man who loves tartan and ugly, porcelain homewares. Also, Alex might be flirting with his boss via a handwritten grocery list. Just a little bit.

Day 6: The Flight Before Christmas || M || 7.2k || a gift for @welcometololaland written by @indomitable-love

Alex loves his job. He gets to fly all over the world and see incredible places. It satisfies his restlessness and his need to always be on the move. But sometimes, Alex hates his job. Hates the passengers. One passenger in particular. --- or Alex is a flight attendant and Henry is his most-hated passenger.

Day 7: Baby, It’s Cold Inside || E || 12.6k || a gift for @clottedcreamfudge written by @three-drink-amy

Alex needs this trip. He needs it. Too many months have gone by since he and Henry were in the same place. It was so easy to get used to being in the same city. He feels like a different person than who he was the last time he saw Henry. Maybe that’s just because the last term felt like an eternity. As he looks at the map on the screen, the little plane icon gets closer and closer to England. If he shuts his eyes, he can feel Henry a bit more.

Day 8: I might just give you a chance (every-which way) || M || 8.4k || a gift for @everwitch-magiks written by @athousandrooms & @dustratcentral

Alex is on his holiday break, which is why he signs up to take on the bulk of helping his sister with her charity market stall. And while he does actually like the bustle and interactions with people that come with the job, he will admit only to himself that what he enjoys the most is antagonising his market nemesis, who, inexplicably with Alex’s ‘fuck you’ attitude, keeps coming around to make a daily purchase.

PS. If you're looking for more firstprince holiday fics you can find our earlier Christmas fic exchanges here: 2021, 2022 and 2023

cc: @welcometololaland @three-drink-amy @clottedcreamfudge @everwitch-magiks @athousandrooms

@indomitable-love @dustratcentral @villiageidiot

#red white and royal blue #red white and royal blue fic #rwrb fic #rwrb #firstprince #firstprince fic #don we now (even more) gay fanfiction

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thezombieprostitute · 1 month ago

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Christmas Grump

Summary: Walter has hated the holidays for many years, much to your chagrin. But this year you've got an idea to soften him towards Christmas.

A/N: Written for @the-slumberparty's December Daze Challenge.

Prompt: you hate the holidays and i love them.

Warnings: None. Please let me know if I missed any!

Walter has been on the force for long enough that he knows to expect the worst around the holidays. Good will towards mankind? Bah, humbug. He knows better. Christmas time is when the worst of the worst comes to the surface and he hates every moment of it.

You've been determined to temper his grumpiness at the holidays pretty much since the day you met, back when his beard barely had any greys to it. Unfortunately, Walter was just about as stubborn as you.

At the very least Walter didn't try to stop you from celebrating. You'd decorate the entire house, except for his office. And goodness knows he never complained about the extra baking you did this time of year. He could be the biggest baby about making sure he got "his share" of all the cookies and treats you made for the department. Some of his friends joked about him practicing for the role of Santa with how many cookies he would eat but he never let it get to him.

In truth, he had been warming to the Christmas holiday since you came into his life, but it was hard for him to still appreciate the moments in comparison to the years of holiday trauma he'd seen. It was actually one of the reasons he insisted on going shopping with you during this time of year. He could see your joy at the lights, the gift ideas, the cutesy holiday paraphernalia and he could keep you safe. More times than you knew he'd silently warned off someone who looked like trouble just by glaring at them. As much as he wished you'd pay better attention to your surroundings, he was very grateful you didn't see the world like he did.

Meanwhile you appreciated that he would go shopping with you because he could carry the heavy stuff and it gave you access to his big truck!

"You're sticking with me, right, big guy?"

Walter rolls his eyes, "in spite of my better judgment, yes."

You chuckle and playfully slap his arm, "such a grumpy old man!"

"I'm not that old."

"How old is Faye again?"

"Too old," Walter shakes his head. His daughter was attending college already and Walter was suddenly feeling his age.

You kiss his bearded cheek to distract him. "Well I, for one, think you've aged like fine wine. You're even more handsome than when we first met."

He snorts in disbelief, but lets himself smile at the compliment.

You're almost done with your shopping list. They didn't have the canned mandarin oranges for the cranberry relish, but you can do quick checks for them until it's time to start the cooking. Maybe they'll have the snack cups of them in stock if you run low on time.

Looking at the remaining few items on your list you stop to hype up Walter. "Okay, Walter, we're about to go into the toys section." He groans. "Hey, hey, hey, we're going to get through this. It'll be okay! We're just gonna get in, get a bunch of stuff for the toy drives, and get out. Right?"

"Right," he sighs.

"That was weak sauce, Walter! You can do better!" You cheer him on with a playful punch to the arm.

"Right," he repeats, more firmly.

"That's better! Let's do this! You keep close to me and watch my signals for when to stop, when to turn and when to get the hell out."

"Right!" he high fives you before you lead him into the overcrowded toy section.

Walter is on high alert. He's seen what happens when two or more parents fight over the latest popular toy.

You signal a few turns, wasting no time in grabbing some items specifically requested by the people running the toy drives. The bulk of toys donated were for kids between the ages of 3 and 11 so you made sure to go for the toys outside of those age ranges. Some baby chew toys, infant mirrors, board books and the like for the youngest ones. Sports equipment, sketch books, makeup kits and the like for the older ones.

Walter was helping you get some hockey sticks into the over-packed cart when you were both interrupted by a cry of "SANTA!" Suddenly Walter feels a weight around his leg and, as he looks down, he sees a toddler holding onto him like a baby koala.

"Hello," he says to the toddler. "Can I help you with something?"

The toddler looks up, eyes wide with wonder. "I got wost. Mama says 'no talk to stwangers' but you Santa! You can he'p me!"

Walter's eyes immediately soften and he effortlessly picks up the kid. "Are you here at the store with your Mama?" They nod their head yes. "Can you tell me what she looks like?"

"She's pwetty," they answer.

"I'm sure she is," Walter says with a smile. He turns to you, "do you think you can get to the customer service? Ask them to send out an APB, or whatever they do, for a parent missing their child?" You nod and get moving, hearing Walter say, "how about I put you on my shoulders and you can look for her?"

It takes you a few minutes but you're finally able to find an associate to help out. They send out a notice over their walkie-talkies and you take them back to where you left Walter. You have to fight the urge to coo when you see the large, grey-haired, bearded man with a toddler on his shoulders. You and the associate show up just as the toddler starts pointing and yelling "Mama!"

It takes a bit to calm down both Mama and toddler. Your heart swells to see Walter in his element, taking care of others. It's one of the reasons you fell so hard for him. He is a very kind, caring person who genuinely wants to help others. But he needs someone who can take care of him so he can keep going. You're happy to be that person.

As they little family goes off, the toddler waves, "bye Santa! T'ank you!"

Walter's smile widens and you can't resist, "so when can I start calling you 'Santa'?"

He gives you a stern look. "Never."

"I dunno, I think that kid was on to something," you tease.

"No."

"I mean, the beard, the big build, getting toys for kids..."

Walter grabs you and growls into your ear, "be careful you don't end up on the naughty list."

"I wouldn't mind sitting on your lap," you giggle. He takes a breath and you can feel his body stiffen at the mental images. "But, first, we gotta finish shopping. Let's go, Santa!" you playfully yell as you break free and get back to the cart.

You keep laughing as Walter gives you a look that promises a delightful punishment for your behavior.

Tagging:

@alicedopey; @changenameno; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness;

@kingliam2019; @lokislady82; @peyton-warren; @ronearoundblindly

#walter marshall #silver fox!walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall x you #walter marshall fluff #walter marshall imagine #navy and roo's sleepover

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paranormaltheatrekid · 2 months ago

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welcome to vhs christmas carols, we have

-grumpy old man learns to appreciate the people around him before it’s too late

-cute couple realizes the best gift they have is each other

-little girl dies

#vhscc #vhs christmas carols

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inksoakedparchment · 1 month ago

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SLYTHERIN BOYS REACT TO MUGGLE LONDON DECORATED FOR CHRISTMAS

THEODORE NOTT:

༯ obviously teasing you about how overdecorated is London, but secretly he loves every moment of it. he loves the city lights and the couples walking around at the Christmas market.

MATTHEO RIDDLE:

༯ he thinks the lights are magical but he’s too introverted for the crowd. he always tries to be next to you close as possible, because he doesn’t want to lose you in the people sea.

LORENZO BERKSHIRE:

༯ he loves the happy people around him, also the shining decorating too. his fav thing is the huge christmas tree at the Christmas market and he loves yapping about which type of tree is that.

BLAISE ZABINI:

༯ maybe the lights are too much for him, but he’s okay with that if he can see your smile and loves watching your little happy dances after you bought a snack. he’s holding your hand while you’re walking around, checking every handmade gifts for your friends and family.

DRACO MALFOY:

༯ he’s grumpy because you “forced” him to go with you out to the Christmas market. the muggle decorated london is out of his comfort zone, but he’s trying to be okay with all of the blinking lights, loud music and the people. only because he loves you.

TOM RIDDLE:

༯ he hates the muggle decorated london, it’s obvious. but deep in his heart he really loves the Christmas market except the people who are accidentally bumping into you. he’s trying to keep you close as possible to him. his love for you is stronger than the disgust towards the people.

collab w @sunkissedscribbles

taglist: @sunkissedscribbles @kandis-mom @idkkkkkkk123lgb @nottslvttt

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joelscurls · 1 year ago

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a heart for melting

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 2.7k

warnings: post-outbreak, implied age gap, themes surrounding child loss and grief, some angst but mostly festive fluff, grumpy x sunshine dynamics (Joel is a grinch & reader loves the holidays), reader is described as having long-ish hair

summary: Jackson's first annual Holiday Market brings about more than just cheer.

a/n: Merry Christmas @thetriumphantpanda; I'm your pedrostories secret santa! I hope you enjoy this lil festive take on grumpy!joel x sunshine!reader — I had lots of fun writing it 🤍🎄 🥧 🪵 🦌

Joel doesn’t want to be here — surrounded by garland and ribbons and so much unadulterated joy, it’s nauseating. No, he was forced to be here.

Please, Ellie had begged, it’ll be good for you to do something other than patrol or drinking with Tommy. Plus, they’re too good to keep to yourself.

They, being wood carvings — the tiny sculptures of deer and bears and birds, tufts of hair and bunches of feathers drawn out of driftwood with the tip of his blade. It was only ever meant to be a hobby, a way to busy his hands after they’d been wrapped around the cold metal of his rifle all day. Something lighter, creative rather than destructive, an act of giving rather than taking.

But sharing them with other people? He hadn’t been interested. Maybe he’d make one for Ellie or Tommy. Wrap it up in a piece of cloth and offer it as a gift for their birthday.

Not that he thought they were any good, really.

With the announcement of Jackson’s first annual Holiday Market, though, came Ellie’s pleading. “I’ll help you,” she’d bargained. “You don’t even have to give me anything!”

“Who said I would anyway?” he’d grumbled, digging his spoon into the bottom of his bowl of stew and sifting out a chunk of meat.

Joel despises the Holiday Season. He’d welcomed its disappearance with the end of the world. Because he had no reason to celebrate, with Sarah gone. Her absence stung like salt in an open wound on any normal day. But on Christmas, memories of her hanging her favorite ornaments on the tree and sneaking one of the cookies baked for Santa burned behind his eyelids. Left him heaving through hot tears.

The holidays had no place in his world, but they certainly had a place in Jackson. The first time he and Ellie had strode through those gates, they’d been met with that damned Christmas Tree, towering over the settlement like a beacon. And he hated it, hated the way it brought about that pounding in his chest and that spinning in his head.

How could anyone find any good in such a poignant reminder of loss?

Tommy says it’s about new beginnings, finding ways to be happy again. And what’s happier ‘n Christmas? God damn Santa Clause, hot chocolate, children singin’ carols?

Still, Joel isn’t convinced — not yet.

Standing across the mess hall, at your table piled high with baked goods, you are far too cheerful. You’re humming some song with a jovial beat, absentmindedly swaying as you rearrange rows of gingerbread and muffins and scones — all of which are draped in white icing, like flocking on Christmas trees. You pause to wish a happy holiday to everyone who passes through.

Joel knows he’s seen you before, flitting in and out of the community’s kitchen, always with that signature smile scrawled across your face.

And god, you’re so bubbly, taking to everyone you meet like a bee to honey, letting them in without a care in the world. Popping from table to table, making sure they have enough to eat. That they’re doing well.

It shouldn’t surprise him that you’re so…spirited, too. You seem to find the good in everyone and everything, after all.

It infuriates him, nonetheless.

Joel groans to himself. Stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans as an elderly couple rounds on him.

He grumbles a hello to them when they approach. They offer him half-smiles in return, beginning to pick up some of the carvings laid out on the table — turning them, inspecting them.

“This one’s nice,” the man says to his wife. She hums in agreement.

“You got any tigers?” the man asks.

“Tigers?”

“Yeah — I used to love ‘em as a kid.”

“Got what’s on the table,” Joel grumbles.

“You make ‘em custom? I can offer some homemade jam in return — elderberry.”

Joel sighs in annoyance.

“Don’t make ‘em custom. Got what I got.”

The man seems defeated, nodding and walking off without another word. The woman follows closely behind.

Just as they leave, Ellie appears. She sidles up to Joel and shrugs her jacket off. Pulls a chair up next to him.

“There’s so much cool shit here!” she exclaims, too loud. A judgemental set of eyes flit her direction. She glares right back at them.

“Do you mind?” Joel huffs, jaw ticking.

“Jesus, who pissed in your Cheerios?”

“How do you even know what Cheerios are?”

“Don’t,” she admits. “I read it in a book.”

“Of course you did.”

Ellie leans back in her chair, pulling an apple out of her backpack and biting into it. She shuffles some of the carvings around on the table. “Gotta fill in these gaps, man,” she says, juice dribbling down her chin.

Joel ignores her. He sneaks a glance at you; finds that you’re already looking. Your expression is unreadable, gaze unmoving as he studies you.

Despite your upbeat disposition bothering him, he can’t deny that you’re gorgeous: bright, beckoning eyes, siren-like smile — it’s like you’re peering into his soul.

He didn’t think he still had one of those.

“Dude.” Ellie nudges him. He peels his eyes from you reluctantly. “I asked how many takers you’ve had.”

“Uh.” He pretends to think.

“You have no fucking idea, do you? Too busy staring at that girl.”

“Wasn’t starin’,” he clips defensively.

“No? Well she’s coming over here, man.”

Sure enough, you’re striding right toward him, abandoning your post. Joel barely has time to prepare for impact.

He unconsciously straightens up and pulls his hands out of his pockets. He brushes them on his jeans just as you stop in front of his table.

“Hi there,” you say.

“Hi!” Ellie chimes.

You pick up a carving of a two-headed deer. His favorite.

“This is beautiful,” you coo. “The craftsmanship is lovely.” You’re running a finger along the grooves in the wood, holding the piece delicately in the palm of your hand — as if it’s made of glass, not wood. “You have a real gift…”

“Joel.”

“Joel,” you repeat. He ignores how sweet his name sounds coming out of your mouth. You tell him your name, and it fits you, he thinks. It’s pretty.

“How long have you been making them?”

“Just since I got to Jackson. ‘ts somethin’ to pass the time.”

You nod. Continue scanning over the intricacies of the deer. “I was never much of a baker before I got here, either,” you joke, gesturing back toward your table.

“Good one,” Ellie laughs. “You’re funny — isn’t she funny, Joel?”

In his head, he’s glowering at her. Outwardly, he feigns amusement.

“Real funny.”

“I’d love to see how you make these sometime,” you say, then, placing the deer back on the table gingerly. “Do you have a workshop?”

“In our shed,” Ellie pipes in before he can say anything. “You should come by tomorrow! Joel’s off patrol.”

He shoots her daggers. She pretends not to notice.

“I’d love that! I have to work in the kitchen, though. I could come by after?”

Joel starts to shake his head no. Ellie’s hand wraps around his arm like a vice grip. He stills.

“Sure,” he grits.

“I can bring some pastries, if you’d like.”

“Don’t like sweets.”

“Oh,” you say, a little thwarted, but you’re undeterred. You shift on your feet. Chew your bottom lip. “Well, how about something not sweet, then?”

Your brows lift, narrowed eyes on him as you await a response. Joel still isn’t thrilled about the prospect of a visitor. Really, he doesn’t like anyone on his property that isn’t Ellie, or Tommy and Maria if he’s invited them. But you don’t seem so bad, offering to bring him food.

He can probably deal with your sunny disposition in exchange for a full belly. Lord knows he went too long without that luxury, and he’d be a fool to deny himself of it ever again.

So, he agrees, the garbled sure less than enthusiastic leaving his mouth. Still, you don’t seem too offended. In fact, you smirk at him, wordlessly sauntering back to your table, sneaking glances at him every so often for the remainder of the afternoon.

Sure enough, the next evening, while Joel is whittling in the shed, you show up.

You’re wielding a basket of savory hand pies, as promised, and Joel has to stop himself from drooling. They smell incredible. And they’re still warm, somehow, steam wafting off of them even after your walk here.

“Come in,” he gruffs, his nose following the scent like a dog’s as he trails behind you inside.

His set up is minimal: a rocking chair next to a bench, a couple stools he made for when Tommy comes by to play poker. But his works are scattered throughout, every surface in the small room cluttered with little carvings.

He settles atop one of the stools as you begin to wander around the room, plucking sculptures off shelves and awing at them with such genuine admiration, it causes something to pull in his chest.

Every so often, you make a remark about the details in a piece, how the fur on the deer looks real, how you can practically smell the replica evergreen in your grasp.

And something shifts — carried by your kind words through the stuffy shed.

Taken by the slight lilt in your voice when you speak to him, the almost-shy smile that pulls at the corners of your lips — Joel is attracted to you.

He’s following the line of your neck down to your collarbone, ogling at the exposed skin there when you pick another carving up off the shelf. And he feels guilty — he shouldn’t be looking at you like this. You’re just being nice, being neighborly, and he’s gawking at you like you’d have any interest in him.

No; you’re young, beautiful, could do a lot better than an old grump like him.

He averts his gaze quickly when you suddenly set down the tiny, carved bird that had been in your palm, round the workbench and perch yourself atop the stool next to his. You retrieve a handpie out of the basket and pass it over to him.

“It has braised rabbit and carmelized onions in it,” you explain, taking a bite and letting the steam roll out.

He follows suit and — it tastes just as good as it smells, if not better. He’s salivating again, letting the dough melt in his mouth before swallowing.

The two of you eat in comfortable silence, getting through the entire basket in mere minutes.

When you’re finished, you ask him where he’s from.

The question shouldn’t feel like such a shock to the system. But after a year of being in Jackson, successfully avoiding conversation about his life before the outbreak, it sets off a panging between his eyes, a dull ache in his viscera.

“Texas,” he tells you plainly. “From Austin, originally.”

You nod. And you must be able to tell that he’s not used to talking about himself — by the tick of his jaw or the lack of eye contact — he’s not sure. Because you don’t pry. Instead, you say, “you can ask me something.”

He nods. Thinks on it for a moment.

“When did you arrive here? To Jackson?”

Unlike him, you do not grimace at the intrusion. Instead, you tell him: about your parents, their untimely deaths, the harrowing road that led you here. You do not cry, but Joel can see the pain in your shiny eyes.

It’s inevitable; there isn’t a single person here who hasn’t been dealt a bad hand. But you wear your past like a badge of honor, like you’re still grateful, after it all, to be alive.

Joel envies your tenacity.

So when you ask him about Ellie, if she is his daughter, he lets the walls around him down — just an inch. He doesn’t get upset when he stumbles over his words while telling you about Sarah. He finds comfort in confiding in you, in the way you so attentively listen, quietly nodding along as he recalls his version of the end of the world.

“Thank you,” you say when he’s done, burying his hands back in his pockets.

“For what?”

“For sharing that with me. I know it can be difficult to relive it.”

“I relive it everyday,” he admits. “Everything reminds me of her in one way or another.”

“I understand,” you nod. He believes you do.

So sweet, gaze like honey, you are an enigma to him. He hasn’t met many people who are kind just for the sake of it — not in a long while. Maybe that’s why he’d been so bothered by it at the market. It had felt almost unnatural to him, bound to be laced with an ulterior motive.

He’s still learning how to trust people again. It doesn’t come easily after twenty-odd years of rationing it like the pills he’d stowed. Still, there is something innate about baring his soul to you. Letting you in through the cracks in his battered being. You are safe, he’s sure of it; benevolence radiating from you like warmth.

It drips off your tongue when you ask him to show you how he does his craft — slips down your fluttering lashes. No longer can he deny you of anything — he’s accepted this swiftly — and so he obliges.

A half-whittled fox materializes from his coat pocket, along with his blade. He passes both to you and pulls his stool closer to yours.

He guides you, taking your hand in his, encouraging the press of the blade into the wood. Shows you how to round out a corner with a subtle twist of the knife. You’re a fast learner, Joel notes, attentive, taking every instruction like gospel.

The slow drag of steel, your fingers wrapped tightly around the handle; you’re so focused that you jump slightly when he places a reassuring hand on your knee.

“Doin’ great, darlin’,” he says, and your lips pull around pearlescent teeth. Joel feels as enraptured by you as you do the carving — the loose tendrils of hair that drape over your shoulder, the clinging of cotton to your soft curves. Though he hardened into stone a long time ago, he feels smelted in your presence. So he cannot help it when his fingers begin to drift up your leg, settling at your side as he turns his body toward yours.

The blade stalls, tip still stuck into the wood, puncturing the fox’s non-existent spine, and your face lifts.

“Is this okay?” he whispers. You nod, gaze flickering between his eyes and his lips.

You’re so close like this; Joel can smell the floral perfume dappled along your neck, can feel your warm breath fanning his face. He has half a mind to stop himself from sealing the sliver of distance left between you. But then you’re sighing, placing the blade and the wooden fox on the tabletop. And it’s your turn to guide him — winding your delicate fingers around his wrist and settling his hand at the small of your back.

The air in the tiny workshop grows heavy with unspoken desire, a longing to disrupt; to create. Your body forms to his languidly, arms interlocking behind his neck, fingers weaving in his hair to pull him closer to you. And then your lips press to his — hesitant at first, then not. You drink from each other until you are drunk, breathless and giddy when you separate.

“That was nice,” you whisper, and Joel chuckles.

“Just nice?”

“Great,” you amend. “It was great. Better than I imagined, even.”

“You imagined this?”

“Yes,” you smirk. “On a loop since I first saw you at the market.”

He pulls you back in. Gives you another chaste kiss. “For good measure.”

“Joel,” you say then, “will you and Ellie come by mine on Christmas? I could even cook — it’s just-”

“Yes,” he’s accepting before you can finish. “I’d love that. As long as you make more of those,” he gestures toward the empty basket on the workbench.

“That can be arranged,” you grin.

As soon as you leave that evening — sent off with a goodbye muttered between slotted mouths — Joel starts on your Christmas present.

end notes: thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging or leaving a comment if you enjoyed <3

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller oneshot #joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal as joel miller #pedro pascal #pedrostoriesgift23 #pedrostories

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zeezelweazel · 1 year ago

Note

a fic where alexia stares too much, doesnt have to be smut

Alexia Putellas| Being subtle|

___________________________________

I've been having this idea for a long time but I'm horny so I wanted to get all the smut fics done

Summary: You and Alexia have been dating for a while but keeping it a secret from the public. During an interview Alexia can't seem to get her eyes off you and you're afraid she'll expose you to the whole world.

___________________________________________

With Christmas so close you have quite a few media obligations. You and Alexia are very popular players and amongst the fans you seem to be favourites when it comes to shipping. If only the fans knew that you two have been together for well over a year.

Neither of you feel the need to confirm the rumors and speculations as you're very comfortable in your privacy.

Now you find yourself sitting on a stool next to Alexia, opening various gifts for the video. Alexia is wearing an ugly Christmas sweater and a reindeer hat. You have a festoon wrapped around your neck like a scarf and you're wearing a shiny Santa hat. A big Christmas tree sits behind the two of you with ornaments and pretty lights.

"Alright, let's move on to the next one."

You say and throw the empty box to the pile of trash on the floor. Your eyes scan the pile of still unopened gifts and you grab a long and heavy one wrapped in blue paper.

You tear the wrapping with glee, like a child on Christmas Eve, as you pull out a huge bubble gun. You laugh and turn the toy on your hands carefully inspecting it. Alexia looks at you, completely ignoring the gift. You've never looked so beautiful. With the lights outlining your gorgeous face and the happiness in your eyes you look a hundred times prettier. When she looks at you her heart skips a beat and she softly smiles at you just being you. Alexia's obvious love eyes don't go unnoticed and you point the gun at her face, releasing dozens of soap bubbles on her face. Alexia yelps and pulls back surprised as you almost fall of the stool laughing.

The captain snapps out of it, completely embarrassed at being caught looking at you so softly and with so much love. She looks at the floor blushing and hopes that her blond hair will shield her from the camera.

You notice Alexia's tense posture and place your hand on her bicep. You smile at her when she finally looks up at you.

"It's your turn captain."

Alexia clears her throat awkwardly and bends down to grab a gift when Mapi giggles in the background. Mapi was invited for this gift opening video since her injury put a stop to all activities. She was enjoying seeing her best friend struggle to keep up her infamous 'la reina' persona.

To the public Alexia seemed stoic and cold, most of the time she kept a straight face but when she was with you that facade crumbled. She was always relaxed around you, giggling and cuddling up to you even when she kept up her usual cool charm. That's the reason why people shiped you so much. You were the "shunshine x grumpy" couple that everyone fawned over.

Seeing Alexia be so easily caught off guard made the tattooed spaniard want to roll on the floor with laughter. Alexia sent a cold glare towards her best friend hoping to keep her quiet for the rest of the video. Alexia quietly sighed and composed herself as you two continued opening gifts for the camera.

It was your turn again, you opened a gift and found a photo album with the rest of the team inside. You were pointing at all the photos and explaining the stories behind them.

You were speaking with excitement, your free hand moving around wildly and a wide smile was spread over your face as you talked about that time when Lucy accidentally threw a bucket of cold water on Keira's face instead of yours. Alexia was resting her head on her palm, looking at you like you hung the moon in the sky. A smile crept on her face as she watched you laughing at all the happy memories.

You're always gorgeous in Alexia's eyes but when you're happy, when you're laughing so much your cheeks hurt afterwards, that's when she finds you absolutely perfect. At this point Mapi has given up on laughter, instead she's filming Alexia's lovestruck face to sent it to the group chat.

Before you can realise it there are no more gifts to open and the video ends. The filming crew starts picking up their equipment and you slowly turn to a still smiling Alexia. You smile a little at the fact that the captain still has no idea that the filming is over. You press a quick kiss on her face and Alexia finally snaps out of it, looking at you with shock.

"Are you done looking now Ale?"

Alexia blushes and looks at Mapi with a confused expression that is absolutely adorable. You're grinning at her lost face and burst out laughing when she groans in realisation.

"Dios mio, I'll never live this down." Alexia says with her face in her hands. You pat her back and try to hold back your laughter. That's until you hear Mapi laughing.

"Oh yeah, just wait till you see the group chat."

Mapi is laughing so hard you think she might fall from the couch. Alexia jumped from the stool panicked as she looked between you and Mapi.

"You sent that to the group chat?!"

You laugh even harder and look at Alexia apologeticaly.

"Babe, the entire internet will see this video."

Alexia sighs and flops back down on the stool. You pull her into a side hug and kiss her head softly while Alexia continues her wheeping.

"My reputation is ruined."

___________________________________________

#wlw #female reader #woso #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #fc barcelona #barcelona femeni #barca femeni

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eternal-love · 19 days ago

Text

A NONSENSE CHRISTMAS

Pairing: Austin Butler x Female!reader

Summary: Austin is your grumpy boyfriend who doesn’t like your Christmas parties. But he really does like fucking you when people are over.

Warning: smut. Unprotected sex. Oral sex (fem receiving).

Note: it’s the best fucking time of the year. And I wanted to write something for you guys as a Christmas present because I love u guys so much 🫶

Not my best work, but it’s a simple gift.

The gif is of course by @aust-een, my girl. Props to her for helping me with the gif set!!!

It was the best time of the year, at least to you it was. Even the air changed during holidays, you loved the whole concept of holidays. Your family were as obsessed with holidays as you were. Your house became your main focus during your holiday break. You lived in a small but cozy home.

You had been baking cookies when he came to visit you.

‘Thank God I don’t live with her.’ He thought as he walked through the foyer of your house. Filled with garlands and lights. After overly-criticizing your Christmas decor he smiled at the sight of you. “Hey, babe…”

You smiled at him as you stopped putting sprinkles on the cookies. You rushed to him, wrapping your arms around him.

“I thought you wouldn’t come and see me.” You smiled up at him, taking in the scent of his cologne.

“I wouldn’t miss it. And I also brought you what you asked for.” Austin said as he lifted up a bag of chocolate chips.

“God, I love you. Thank you.” You pecked his lips, but with his free hand he held your jaw there as he kissed you back passionately.

After a while, you pulled away. Time was on you, you were holding a small gathering with your girlfriends later that day. He was annoyed by that, he had wanted today to be a date-day. But of course, your girlfriends were always a priority too.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for the party?” You asked Austin. But then again, it was going to be filled with just women.

“Being surrounded by tipsy women? What a nightmare, baby. I’d rather be locked in the bedroom.” Austin said as he caressed your cheek.

“Rude.” You slapped his chest playfully and he chuckled. You pulled away from him and sat down on the table again, you kept decorating cookies and cupcakes.

“I’m going to lay down in your bed, and watch some shitty tv. While your stupid friends and you watch Home Alone or whatever.” Austin told you, he took a seat right by your side. He reached out for a cookie and shoved it inside his mouth.

The white frosting smearing all over his lips, as if trying to tempt you, he licked his lips and then his fingers, staring right at you.

“What?” He played dumb, he kept sucking his finger to lick any excess of frosting.

“You’re tempting me…” You said, before he leaned in and took your lips in his, his kisses being warm and wet. Instead of butterflies you could say you felt snowflakes, appropriate for the holidays.

He lifted you up and made you sit on the table. He was in between your legs, devouring your mouth. He didn’t even hesitate before kissing down your neck, getting on his knees and parting your legs.

“I bet you’re as sweet as the icing…” Austin muttered as he rode down your underwear.

Oh; Austin ate pussy like a starved man. Like a thirsty man stuck in a dessert, where pussy was the last drop of water.

His plump lips pecked your cunt, then with his skilled tongue, he gave you a long lick. Making you throw your head back. Your hand going to tug at his sandy blond locks. He grunted.

His tongue was skilled, he could move it in ways you didn’t know it was possible.

“Yes… just like that.” You were able to moan out. He kept parting your legs with his hands, griping your thighs as hard as he could. Probably leaving bruises.

It was like he was going down the chimney, and it felt so fucking good. You wouldn’t mind being his Mrs.

You felt yourself getting closer to your release, as your moans began to quicken, whimpering as well. You started to roll your hips forward, if only he had been laying down. You would’ve ridden the fuck out of his face and he would have allowed it, of course. If that meant tasting your cunt, drowning in it was his dream.

You tugged at his hair one more time as you really approached your orgasm. Not wanting him to stop pleasing you, you could only get aggressive.

“Just like that, yeah… don’t stop.” You were able to moan out, grinning your teeth. That’s how worked up he got you.

Austin decided that even if he felt his tongue go numb, numb, numb, he would make you finish. And after a while, you finished all over his face, again, he devoured your cum as a starved man., he pulled away from your cunt and took deep breaths. Before standing up and leaning down to kiss you, making you taste yourself.

“As sweet as I imagined.” He whispered as he pulled away slightly. He was definitely still out of breath.

You were worked up too. A bit dazed still. He had just tongue-fucked you on the table, anyone would be dazed.

“Now, that was on my wishlist.” You chuckled out, smiling at him.

“The stocking are always better on the floor anyways.” Austin smiled, oh, he was horny as hell by now. But your friends would arrive in probably less than thirty minutes. He wouldn’t risk it.

All throughout the party you couldn’t concentrate. Just knowing that Austin was down the hall, doing God-knows-what, probably jacking off while you were here, still turned on. But having to keep a straight face for your friends while they spiked the eggnog.

But at some point you couldn’t handle the ache, the desire, whatever you were feeling. So you sneakily made your way down the hall, you entered your bedroom and Austin was laying there, plain white tee on, his jeans, no shoes. Watching some shitty movie.

“Woah, what are you doing down here?” He asked in confusion, you were never one to leave your own party.

“I want you to fuck me.” You blurted out, as you were quick to start unbuttoning your dress. Austin smirked as he sat up on the bed.

You didn’t even let him speak, you were already on top of him, your lips on a battle against his, grinding against his pelvis, feeling his already growing erection.

You pulled away, he was biting your lower lip. Oh, he adored you.

“You’re gettin’ coal this Christmas.” He groaned. With your free hands, you undid his pants.

Austin was quick to discard his pants and underwear, he didn’t need them anyways. Your underwear’s gone too, the man was a magician, that’s for sure. He sure knew how to take them off.

His hard cock already teased you. Austin had a huge North Pole. And you were thankful for it. Not many women could rejoice on the fact that their man had a big dick. You were the luckiest out of your friends.

You got into position, so horny and wet that you didn’t need anything to make it enter. You were a vixen tonight, and you would take your man for a ride.

As soon as he was slowly entering you, you saw his face contort in pleasure, eyes rolling back in ecstasy.

“Be quiet, you don’t want to ruin your fucking party, don’t you?” Austin said, his jaw clenched as you slowly sat on his cock, he was feeling the warmth of your cunt.

“Mhm…” you whimpered in response, your hands went to his shoulders as his hands went to your waist.

He was so deep in, he thought he would come just by you taking all his cock that good. You started moving your hips, rolling them, riding the hell out of Austin. Quiet moans and grunts escaped the both of you. You had to be quick, you didn’t want your friends to hear you fucking your man.

But Austin, if he could, and if he wanted to ruin your goddamn party, he would’ve fucked you until you were screaming his name.

“Taking me so well.” Austin told you and you rode him. “Poor Santa is going to know you’re a bad girl.”

He mocked your love for the holidays. You didn’t even answer, as you were too concentrated on getting off. The way your face contorted and the way your mouth was open to let out moans and whimpers only made everything more exciting. Also, your friends being down the hall. It was the perfect boost of adrenaline.

“Made specially for me. And no one else.” He moaned, his hands guiding your hips. “I don’t know how I got so lucky with the old man…” he breathed out, oh, he was in heaven. “…so that you ended up being my present.”

Just him saying that pushed you to the edge, but then, with his thumb he started touching your clit. That’s when you knew you were in for a goddamn ride.

He was rough, making you moan louder than you ever wanted to. You were sure your friends heard you.

“Let ‘em hear you. Let them hear how much of a Christmas slut you are. How much you’d rather get…” his voice cracked as you rode him so well, he found himself getting closer and closer. “…fucked by your man than watch your silly movies with them.”

Another loud moan escaped your lips.

“I do rather getting you to f-fuck me…” you whimpered, wrapping your arms around his neck, your breathing on his neck.

“At least you’re warming me up.” Austin grunted, his hands went from your hips to your ass, squeezing it, making you go as deep as possible., his hips bucking up.

That’s when he hit that sweet spot.

“Austin!” You moaned, it was a pornographic moan. One that only a pornstar could do. Yet you were doing it, one calm evening when you’re friends drank hot chocolate in your living room.

Austin started chuckling, he wanted to see you try and act normal once he made you finish.

But soon enough he felt himself getting closer too. He kept bucking his hips until inevitably, he finished inside of you, you rode down your orgasm. Laying your forehead against his.

“Go back, go.” Austin said as he softly shoved you onto the bed.

No after care today. He was still very much annoyed at your Christmas get together.

“But-“ you tried to protest, you could stay here but again, your fucking friends were probably already waiting for you to go back, but they most definitely heard you getting railed.

“You organized this. A host should never leave their invites.” He said with a smirk.

Knowing that what he said was true, with wobbly legs, you tried to put on your dress and act normal. But as soon as you were going to get yo form bed again, he grabbed your arm.

“We’re not finished yet.” He told you.

Of course, it wasn’t over just yet. His package was too big to gift-wrap. He’d probably bed you a thousand more times to be satisfied.

And you wouldn’t even complain, after all, you needed that Charles Dickens like you needed air to breathe.

#Spotify #austin butler #austinbutler #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler fic #austin butler x you #austin butler x y/n #austin butler fandom #nonsense christmas

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