#MERRY CHRISTMAS TO THE PRETTIEST GIRL IN THE WORLD! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sweet-barnes · 3 years ago

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All Bikers are Hells Angels - seven

Pairing: biker!Bucky x reader

Word Count: 3389

Summary: When Y/N's older brother Steve gets into a near fatal accident, she's the emergency contact. The notorious biker gang she finds littering the hospital is unexpected and so is the news that Steve is the leaders best friends and right hand man, the infamous James Buchanan Barnes.

Warnings: swearing, violence, mentions of cheating

A/N: merry christmas everyone!! this is my present to you lol but in all seriousness, i hope you’re all enjoying the holidays even if you don’t celebrate christmas and you’re finding time for yourself to relax and unwind🤍

Series Masterlist // Part Six

The black turned to grey and it slowly lightened as your eyes blinked open. A large warehouse surrounded you, it was completely empty of any machinery. Clearly it was used for Hydra business, and that business right now was you. You were suddenly aware of the tightness around your wrists, midsection and ankles. Rope. Bound tightly to stop you from making an escape. Not that you thought you’d get very far, the place was probably crawling with Hydra and you didn’t want to think about what they’d do if they caught you trying to break free.

“She’s awake,” someone’s voice in the distance. The same voice from the apartment. Heavy footsteps made their way over to you and your head lolled as you tried to sit upright. “Careful there darlin’ you’re still going to feel a little drowsy until the effects fully wear off.”

Your eyes focused in and out on the face in front of you. It was a man, with dark hair. Your vision focused to see scars covering one half of his face, making your breath hitch in your throat. These guys weren’t pretty like the Angels and Devils. They looked like they’d been dragged through hell. But they looked like they enjoyed it. “I ain’t the prettiest, I know, but you could at least attempt to hide your shock when your life is in my hands.” The voice had turned bitter and your eyebrows furrowed at it.

If your mind had been clearer, you had no doubt that you’d have had some witty remark to say back to him, but you were still swimming in your head and you didn’t want to make the situation worse for yourself.

“So I bet you’re wondering why you’ve been brought here today,” the man continued. He started to saunter around the chair you were sat in as he told his story. “I’m not sure if you’ll have heard of me seen as though you’re new to the town but I’m Rumlow, and everything you may have read online is true. Hydra is one of the most notorious biker gangs in this area and you know why? Because we are ruthless and selfish and that’s the only way you get what you want in this cruel little world. You are just another piece in our puzzle and as long as we get what we want from using you, we really couldn’t care less what happens to you afterwards.”

So he was a spoilt boy who wasn’t used to being refused what he wanted, so he’d stop at nothing for it. What a sad little life, you thought.

“You may think we’re the bad guys here, but that little gang you’ve found yourself hanging around with, they’re just like us, so don’t be fooled,” Rumlow bent down in front of you, getting as close as he could to your face. Your vision had focused now, and your head had stopped swimming to be replaced by a pounding headache but it meant you could think a bit more clearly, which you were glad about. “See these scars?” Rumlow moved impossibly closed and you gave a little nod. Eyes darting over the puckered skin on his face. “Your little lover boy, Barnes, did this to me.”

He stepped back and went back to pacing around you. The mention of Bucky sent a pang of anxiety through your body but you couldn’t quite believe he would be that brutal towards someone. “We used to be pretty close, Barnes and I, I was his Steve, but then his precious little Dot found herself wanting me a bit more than him. I knew there was always something there between me and the girl, it was obvious from the beginning, but Bucky was the leader and that’s how you get into these things, go for the top and then work your way in that way.”

The thought of Bucky and this man being best friends like him and Steve didn’t make sense in your head. Rumlow seemed horrible, and as much as you and Bucky didn’t get off on the right foot, you could never imagine Steve being friends with someone so horrible. He had higher morals than that.

“He walked in on us one night while we were fucking, we’d been at it for months but this was the first time he’s ever seen it or thought about it, he had no idea.”

Your heart went out to Bucky. Steve had told you how in love he was with Dot and you couldn’t imagine what it was like to walk in on that scene. His heart must have shattered. Rumlow kept talking.

“The love sick puppy flipped out, he does this thing where he’s dangerously calm, I’d never seen him so angry but it was understandable, the love of his life was in my arms and not his. But there we were, he asked me to leave the room, Dot begged him not to do anything stupid but she was dead to him at that point, his heart was already broken so she had no control over him, he would never listen to her again. We took it outside, as much as I liked to think I was strong, Bucky was always twice as strong as me. He beat me to the near end of my life, I was hanging on as much as I could, until he lit up his cigarette, smoking it over me as he looked down on my body, looking at the work he’d done. We were outside the back of the garage, so there was a half empty can of petrol on the floor, he will always say it was an accident but I know him better than to believe everything he says. He kicked it over and dropped his cigarette in it, it caught fire instantly and the flames took over me.”

You didn’t know what to believe. He had the scars to prove he was burnt but who knows if he was telling the truth, he could’ve just been saying this to get to you. He had a plan and this could be the first part of it all.

“I swore I would never go back there, not that he’d ever accept me back anyway but he needed to be taught a lesson, so I started Hydra, we would go about the same area and make his life a living hell from that moment on.” Rumlow almost seemed proud of himself as he finished his story. A smirk was plastered onto his lips.

“You’re awfully quiet, you weren’t like this with Barnes,” Rumlow’s voice had dropped lower and he moved closer to you once again. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to do much, you’re just going to be used as bait, you help us draw them in and then we make our deal. They could hardly refuse with a gun to your head, could they?”

—

The Angels and Devils were all gathered in the garage together. Sometimes Steve forgot what it was like to have everyone together in the same room. As much as everyone tried, some people had their families to look after so they weren’t always able to make it. It was times like this, though, that Steve was grateful for the friends that he had.

“I’ve managed to track them to this warehouse just outside of town,” Tony voice cut the silence. He wasn’t around much, his wife Pepper and their child taking priority, but Pepper was here with him today, adorned in her leather jacket she had been given by the gang. She was family now, and she was accepted greatly into the group.

“All of them are there, all at different posts around the building so it’s going to be tough to get in but not impossible,” Tony continued. “The best course of action would be to try and take as many out as silently as possible, go around the building taking care of one at a time causing little disturbance, then when it comes to Rumlow and getting Y/N out of there, we have less people to deal with.”

Everyone was nodding their heads at the plan. It had been a while since any of them were involved in anything like this. Things had calmed down over the last few months but that didn’t mean that Bucky was always wary. He knew that Hydra would never leave them alone. Not for long anyway.

“Is there anything at all I can do?” Steve’s voice sounded from beside Bucky. It was hollow, full of worry and anxiety. Bucky knew what this was doing to him. It was tearing him apart from the inside knowing he couldn’t do anything to help. He had to trust his friends to get you to safety. This was a real test of friendship and Bucky knew if he wasn’t able to get you back, he might lose Steve as well.

“I think you should stay here Steve,” Tony said, bringing his tablet over to Steve, “I know you’d rather be out there in the action but you’d be a really big help if you stayed here and kept an eye on all this. You’ll have to let us know if anything changes, if anyone shows up or leaves, you can be our eyes from the outside.” Steve nodded. At least it was something.

Once the plan was settled, everyone started hurrying off, getting ready for the fight ahead. Leather jackets were slipped on, knives and guns hidden away underneath. It was Bucky that Steve followed into the back room as he went to get himself ready.

“You need to get her back, Buck,” Steve mumbled. Bucky let out a deep breath. “I know, bud, I’m going to do everything I can, even if it means going back to who I used to be.” Bucky didn’t need to say anymore. Steve had seen Bucky at his lowest, which meant he was at his most dangerous as well. No one could stop him and he didn’t care what was in his way, he would always get passed it, no matter what it took.

Silence filled the room but there was nothing more either of them could say. The sound of revving pulled them out of their deep thoughts and they both made their way to the entrance. Everyone was ready. There was no going back now, you needed to be saved and they were all ready to risk it all for you.

—

Another hand against the skin of your cheek. The stinging was only getting worse as the skin became tender.

“Rollins, give up now,” Rumlow’s voice called out from the other side of the room. You never thought you’d be so glad to hear it, but you’d accept it just this once. Anything to stop the onslaught from the man in front of you. You could already feel the bruises forming on your cheek bone. There was blood tricking down from it where the skin had pierced ever so slightly.

Steve was not going to be happy about this.

You had refused their plan. There was no way you were going to be their bait, not if you had any say in it. Clearly, Rollins didn’t take very kindly to your rejection and had no hesitation taking it out in you.

Rumlow sauntered over to you. Inspecting the work Rollins had completed. “I have a suggestion,” your words came out gravelly but Rumlow looked interested as soon as you started talking. This was either going to be the best or worst decision you’ve ever made, but you were stuck between a rock and a hard place and you needed a quick way out. It seemed like your only escape.

“How about I help you out? You want more territory from their side of town, I could help you get that, I could help convince them.”

Rumlow tapped his chin as he thought over your proposal. “And how do we know you’re not just saying that? One of them is your brother after all, would you really betray him like that?”

You rolled your eyes. Trying your best to seem as confident as possible, although you were really brimming with anxiety. If they caught onto your lies, you couldn’t imagine what they’d do to you. “Steve would do anything to get me back, I’m sure a bit of land means nothing to him compared to me.”

Silence filled the room. You started to question whether your plan was really going to work or if you were just being stupid.

You noticed glances exchanged between Rumlow and Rollins before he turned back towards you. “You have yourself a deal, missy,” he said as he walked closer to you, as slowly as possible. His large figure looming over you before he knelt down, his face impossibly close to yours. You could feel his hot breath against your face. You did everything in your power to not scrunch your nose up.

“You’ll meet up with us once a week, keep us in the loop of everything, you better not keep anything to yourself and if you tell anyone of this little conversation, or if you think of crossing us, your pretty little life will be ruined, and we keep our promises, darlin’.”

You nodded your head, swallowing thickly. Relief washed over you but you tried your hardest not to show it. You were a little shocked it worked in the first place. Rumlow stood up quickly, causing you to flinch slightly which he chuckled at. “Untie her and let her go, she can find her own way home.” It wasn’t long after that his men were untying the ropes from around your body and they weren’t exactly gentle.

They grabbed your arm, leading you towards the large shutters before opening it just enough for you to fit through. They practically threw you out, your hands scraping against the gravel as the shutters slammed closed behind you. You let out a huff and stayed there for a second before gathering your energy to stand yourself up.

You looked around. You were in the middle of nowhere. You could see the city in the distance but with no phone or money, you had no idea where you were going or how long it would take you to get back to the apartment.

Once your breathing evened itself out, you set off, heading down the road, only hoping you were heading in the right direction.

—

The only sound in Bucky’s ears was the low grumble of the bike engines. His eyes were focused straight ahead, the determination to get to you before anything bad happened kept him going, the others following behind.

He wasn’t stopping, the long roads nor the Hydra lackeys would stop him from getting to you. He needed to get you back, he couldn’t lose them to you. He couldn’t do that to Steve, he couldn’t do it to himself.

He almost missed you as you stumbled along the side of the road towards them. It was Nat who brought him out of his thoughts as she pulled in front of him and waved him over, and as soon as he caught sight of you, he couldn’t help himself.

“Y/N!” He called. Your head snapped up, a glint of fear in your eyes at the sight of the large men in leather on bikes. But you soon visibly calmed when you realised who it was. Nat was the first one off her bike and making her way over you.

As much as you didn’t like the idea of her and Bucky together, all those feelings were washed away as she reached you with a concerned look on her face. “Are you okay? What did they do to you?” Were the first words from her. Her hands grazed lightly over the cuts and bruises on your face, inspecting you for anything life threatening or serious. You sucked in a breath as her fingers danced over your cheekbone and she quickly stopped.

You soon had a swarm of bikers around you, each one with their own worry evident on their face. Bucky pushed his way to the front and planted himself in front of you. You looked up at him, somewhat surprised to find him at the forefront of it all.

“I’m so sorry,” was all he could say before he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest. The surprise must have been evident on your face as Sam caught a glimpse and smirked.

Maybe he didn’t need his plan after all.

Before you had chance to wrap your own arms around Bucky, he let go and the cold air quickly took over where his body was pressed against yours.

“Let’s get you back to the garage, Steve will be worried sick, then you can tell us everything.” Bucky said, guiding you over to his bike. You simply nodded, watching as the others made their way to their own bikes and mounting them swiftly. You looked up at Bucky as he held a helmet in his hand.

“This is going to hurt but you need to wear this.” He sent you a soft smile. He didn’t miss the small frown on your face as he spoke. “Do I have to?” You said, causing him to chuckle. “Steve would kill me if I didn’t make you wear it.”

You sighed, letting him slip the helmet onto your head. You could tell he was trying to be as gentle as possible so you tried your best not to let it show when he caught the cuts and bruises with the fabric inside the helmet.

You had never seen him this way. So gentle and caring. You couldn’t deny that you liked it but you would never let him know. Not anytime soon, anyway. There was something stirring in your stomach. Like the butterflies were stretching out their wings, getting ready for flight.

He gave the helmet a light tap as it was secured into place and swung his leg over his bike, looking at you over his shoulder as he waited for you to get on. He saw the hesitancy in your eyes, “I’ll be good, I promise,” he smirked, that charming smirk, and you rolled your eyes.

You held onto his shoulders as you swung your leg over. Bucky’s skin felt like it was on fire from where you were holding onto him, even through his leather jacket. He didn’t know how he was going to cope with your arms wrapped around him for the rest of the journey back.

Once you were settled, you slowly snaked your arms around him, mumbling “is this okay?” before connecting your fingers together. When you heard Bucky’s confirmation, your hands gripped each other tightly. Your front was pressed against Bucky large back, you could feel his muscles even through the leather and as you breathed in his scent, you slowly relaxed.

Once everyone had set off, Bucky made his way to the front of the group, picking up speed. “You okay back there?” You heard his voice over the rumble of the engines. “Yeah!” You called back.

After all the tellings off you gave Steve about these bikes, you couldn’t quite believe you were on one yourself. Especially with Bucky, with your arms wrapped around him. Steve would never believe this.

—

You arrived back at the garage in one piece and at the sound of the revving, Steve came out as quickly as possible. Relief consumed him as he saw you and you rushed over after quickly handing Bucky your helmet, engulfing him in a hug. “Thank god you’re okay, Y/N, I was so worried,” Steve sighed into your shoulder, giving you an extra squeeze before letting go. Inspecting your face the same way Nat did. “I’ll clean her up, don’t worry,” Nat said as she walked by you, gesturing for you to follow.

Once everyone was inside and settled, Nat was cleaning up the cuts and dried blood on your face. Everyone was looking at you, waiting for you to fill them in on everything that happened.

You took a deep breath. Knowing what you were about to say would crush them but there was no way around it.

“I made a deal with Hydra.”

Part Eight

#all bikers are hells angels #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #biker!bucky #biker!bucky x reader #mcu

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jeonggukkiepabo · 4 years ago

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CRYSTAL SNOW ❄ MYG

SUMMARY: Christmas has always been a stressful time for Yoongi: buying presents, decorating the tree, baking cookies, you name it-Yoongi does it. It wouldn't be so difficult if Yoongi had someone to help him, but all he has left in his life is his beautiful daughter Ara.But maybe this year, he won't be all alone.

GENRE: christmas fluff ❄ a bit of smut

WORD COUNT: 7,3k

WARNINGS: f l u f f, single parent yoongi, kindergarten teacher y/n, oral, satoori, domestic christmas vibes :(, mentions of death

AUTHOR’S NOTE: the secret collab is finally here! thanks @kimtaehyunq for letting me join💞 i’m so excited to read the other fics as well! & thank you Mags for doing this amazing banner I think this is the prettiest banner I've ever had. 🤧 Tysm love💞

MERRY CHRISTMAS

People usually say she looks a lot like her father, but all Yoongi sees in Ara is his wife. Wherever his daughter goes, his wife's ghost follows, the memory of his teenage love and the wonderful years they spent together until she left their lives.

Min Dasom died almost one year after Ara was born, her death coming too sudden for anyone to bid their last goodbyes-leaving her husband and baby heartbroken and alone.

It was awful, Yoongi won't be able to forget that one night the police called him, telling him that his precious wife drowned in the ocean during her monthly trip to the beach with her friends.

Ever since that call, Yoongi has never stepped near a beach again, never felt hot sand between his toes again, never went swimming again.

It was hard, being a single parent and Yoongi was tempted to give up many times, but seeing Ara grow and bloom into the beautiful girl she is now, Yoongi is beyond thankful that he survived the pain and sorrow.

He never drowned his thoughts in alcohol because his sunshine always looked at him with her sad little eyes, almost as if she knew what he wanted to do and hugged his legs tightly until Yoongi set the bottle away and picked Ara up and spent the night cuddling her.

Things got easier as soon as Ara was old enough to finally go to kindergarten, allowing Yoongi to work more hours and on a daily basis again. It's not like he needed a lot of money, it's just that Yoongi needs to work.

He's used to working all the time, he's always been-because working doesn't give him time to think about the tragedy that is his life.

Money wasn't an issue for the Min family, Yoongi used to be one of the most successful pianists and producers in South Korea, but he gave up on that as soon as Ara was born, just to have time for his family.

His friend Hyunjin offered him a job as a songwriter and composer at his own label JinHit Entertainment.

Yoongi could work from home whenever he wanted and needed to, but the studio Hyunjin set him up was way better and filled with new technology that Yoongi loved playing and experimenting with.

The acclimatization to her new daily routine wasn't easy for Ara because she wasn't used to having women in her life-until now, it has always been Yoongi and Ara. They ended up switching kindergarten two times before Ara came into the one that you've been working at for a while now-instantly falling in love with you.

The first few days with your new reference child we're quite… interesting because the little girl was full of action and so curious about every little thing in the room that you couldn't sit still and talk to her father for a while because Ara grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the next game she wanted to play.

Her father, Min Yoongi, sent you an apologetic smile as he watched you play with his daughter from a distance, giving you time to get used to each other and build a bond. You winked at him as you took a seat next to Ara and started to explain the rules of the board game to her-impressed about how well she was understanding them.

It didn't take Ara a long time to send Yoongi home, waving him goodbye and pressing a loud kiss onto his lips. "Go and work, Appa! Uncle Hyunjinnie waits for you to make good music!"

Yoongi looked at her with a pout, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're telling me to leave? Just to go and work? That is rude, princess."

You giggled and hugged Ara as she ran over to you, Yoongi long forgotten.

"Would you like to bring your dad to the door, Ara? I think he might be sad if you won't. Remember: he won’t see you for a few hours and you don’t want your dad to be sad during lunch, right?"

Ara giggled but nodded nonetheless and grabbed Yoongi by the hand. "Hurry!"

Yoongi looked at you in shock, desperately trying to hold in his laugh. "I think you gave me Ara's evil twin instead of my sweet little princess! Where is my nice girl that always kisses Appa goodbye?"

You shrugged your shoulders playfully as one of the other kids asked for you to help him with building a big tower out of building blocks. "Have a nice day, Mr Min. Oh and make sure you won't forget about our appointment on Thursday! I don't think it'll take longer than an hour, it's just to talk about Ara's development so far."

Yoongi was one of the few parents that were always punctual, not even a minute too late-and the only parent you've never felt any kind of rage towards. Not only that, but he attended every kindergarten fest, always prepared little cupcakes for Ara's birthday to bring with her to kindergarten and share with her friends.

May was rolling around quickly and you were as eager as always to craft some little gifts for the children to give their mothers.

You prepared some candle wax and melted it so the kids could fill it in plastic forms and add glitter and scent to their preference, just to have a nice little gift to give.

Most of the kids had fun, some of them were a bit grumpy because they got glitter all over themselves, but there is one little girl pouting and trying not to cry in front of them, not even touching the wax.

Ara.

It breaks your heart every time, knowing that Ara's mother died years ago and that she probably had no other woman in her life because you’ve already heard that her father works quite a lot.

Squatting down next to the little girl, you gently pinch her stomach just to hear her little giggles.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? Don't you want to make a nice candle?"

Ara looks up at you, one single tear slipping out of her eye. "I don't have a mom, so no candle for me."

You coo, playing with Ara's hair as you stand up again, leading her towards the crafting table.

"That doesn't matter, Ara. I think your dad will be happy to get a candle too! We can pick a different color than pink, what do you think does he like the most? I’m sure we will find something!"

Ara taps her chin, smiling slightly as she thinks about Yoongi's favorite color. "Black! He wears black clothes! Always! Do we have black glitter, Y/N?"

She scrunches her nose at the first few oils, but one scent really lights up her face. "This smells like Appa! Can we use this?"

"We do, I didn't put it on the table because usually nobody wants it so it sits on the shelf, all by itself. I think the glitter finally deserves to be used!" You smile at the kid, grabbing the small container of glitter from the shelf and handing it over to Ara.

"We do have a few scents, would you like to smell them? Choose whichever you think smells the best and we can put a few drops in the wax,' you offer the bowl of different oils to Ara and help her open the lids.

Ara holds up the little bottle of rose oil and you smile to yourself. Black roses, that really seems to fit the impression you have of Mr. Min.

"Of course. Now, let's mix the glitter with the wax and we can put it into the mold. Alright, now stir it while i put in a few drops of the rose oil, okay?"

You guide her through the process, talking to her and listening to her rambling about the piano lessons Mr. Min gives her on a regular basis, just because Ara wants to be like her favorite man in the world.

"He is a great dad, Ara. You're so lucky to have him, I know that he must be sad sometimes too, but you're such a sunshine and help him as much as he helps you," you hug her from the side, enjoying the way Ara leans into the hug as well.

"I want a mom, but Appa is almost like a mom! He lets me paint his nails, goes to ballet with me and always bakes princess cookies for our tea parties!"

Ara giggles as she dips the wick into the liquid wax.

"Appa needs a woman to love, the only dates he goes to are work-dates with uncle Hyunjin," she says.

And yes, you think so as well.

One day around September, you decide that it’s definitely hot enough to prepare the blow-up outside pool for the kids, allowing them to change into their swimsuits and let them play around, even adding some bubbles to the water to let them experiment.

Mr. Min smiles at you, his gums fully showing and you can’t help but smile as well as you hear his words.

“And I think there’s no job that you could do better than this one.”

You’re sitting next to the pool on a bench in the shadow, reading some books to those few kids that don’t want to hop into the water as Ara jumps out of the pool.

“Y/N, come inside as well, it’s so nice!” She jumps up and down, her wet ponytail dripping onto her shoulders.

You pout, pointing to the kids next to you. “I can’t, you know that some of the kids are still afraid to go into the water with so many other children around. Maybe next time. Now, go and enjoy it, it’s super hot and I don’t know when autumn will come around and surprise us with bad weather!”

Ara nods quickly, hopping back into the water and continues splashing some water around with her friends, but she glances at you every few seconds. Then, she whispers with her two best friends before all three of them nod as they look at you.

Suddenly, they run towards you, surprising you with wet hugs and loud giggles, leaving your white summer dress almost see through.

Suddenly, there’s someone clearing his throat right behind you and you wish you could sink deep down into the pool once you see that it’s Mr. Min.

“Girls!,” you can’t help but yelp, the cold water causing you to jump up from the bench. Yet, you laugh with them, the cooling really helping you with the heat.

“You can’t just do that, Ara. Look at my dress now, you can almost see through it, you’re lucky that the parents won’t come in within the next two hours, otherwise they would see me like this,” you try to look stern, but to be honest: you would have done the same if you were Ara.

“Ara, why did you do that?,” he asks with his calm voice and tries his best not to look at your hardening nipples under the dress.

Ara’s bottom lip trembles as she looks at you with sad eyes. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I just thought it would be funny…”

Mr. Min turns to you and bows slightly. “I’m sorry, she shouldn’t have done that. And well, I came to pick her up earlier because we will visit her grandparents over the weekend. I should’ve informed you earlier. Is there any way I can help you with your… erm, dress?”

Mr. Min nods at you, picking up his-still wet-daughter as he looks you up and down slow enough to leave goosebumps all over your skin once again.

You blush, shaking your head as you grab Ara’s clothes and hand her to her father.

“It’s alright, Mr. Min, it’s not your fault-and a water fight is too much fun to just not do it, right, Ara? It’s sunny enough so I’ll just bring the bench into the sun and I’ll be dry soon enough! I hope you’re having fun with your grandparents, Ara! Have a nice weekend, Mr. Min.”

“It’s alright, Mr. Min, really. You don’t know how many children happen to call one of us mom without realizing it. It’s nothing too wild, I’ve gotten used to it and I think especially in Ara’s case… It was supposed to happen, you know? I mean, I don’t want to intrude on your private life, but I suppose you’re not seeing another person and Ara isn’t growing up with other females, so she takes those she sees here as a female person to bond with, you know?”

“Thank you, mommy! Oh… I mean Y/N..,” Ara quirps as he turns around in her father’s arms, even though it doesn’t look like she’s really sorry at all.

“Ara!” Mr. Min gasps as he looks at his daughter.

Yoongi shakes his head. “I haven’t seen another woman ever since my wife died. Ara is the only woman in my life, the only one I give all my love to. She deserves it,” he sighs. “But you’re right, I think another female person would really help her with growing up. I just don’t want to introduce her to some random woman I might not even want to spend the rest of my life with. Is this egoistic?”

His honest words hit you, knowing how lonely he must be, all alone with his little girl and a bunch of work he has to do. “It’s not, Mr. Min. You don’t have to date just because you think it would be the best for Ara. There are many single fathers that raise their kids perfectly fine and I think you’re one of them! Ara never tells bad stories about you and I think you’re doing a really good job, spending all of your free time with her and allowing her to experience so many fun things. I’ve met so many ‘happy’ families that didn’t even manage to pack breakfast for their kids, so really, don’t break your head over something like this! I’m happy that Ara accepted me so much and that she always comes to me whenever she has a problem. This is why I chose my job.”

Over the next few months, Mr. Min is all that’s on your mind, even though you know how unprofessional it is, but he’s even kinder to you than he’s been before. You usually have a small chat with every parent whenever they bring or pick up their children, but Mr. Min makes sure to always catch you and ask you about your day, if there’s anything new in your life and you can’t help but ask him about his work and the songs he’s been working on as well.

“Ah, it’s really stressful right now. I’m working with this band that’s debuting soon and we have to prepare and finish the entire album I wrote about five songs for. They’re really good but still so young, I think the oldest is 16? Or was it 17? Whatever, that’s like ten years younger than me! I think I’ll grow grey hair soon when I keep on working with such young idols,” he sighs playfully as he helps Ara to put on her shoes and jacket.

“I mean, you’re not that old, Mr. Min. Don’t worry-as long as you keep that handful smile you will look like you’re straight out of some perfume poster. But I’d love to listen to one of your songs! I mean, if you’d let me,” you smile with honesty as you hand Ara her backpack.

Mr. Min shrugs, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he opens his Spotify account. He types something in and turns the screen towards you. AGUST D, it says. You scrunch your eyes at the name, trying to remember where you’ve known it from, but it doesn’t ring a bell right now.

“I’ll make sure to listen to some of your songs, I hope they aren’t too sad though, I prefer my music to be more… pop and rock?”

You cringe at your own words, hoping that the man knows what you were trying to say.

And fuck, you did like it. Turns out that AGUST D wasn’t some softie that plays guitar lullabies, no.

Yoongi cracks a grin, then winks at you playfull before he takes Ara’s hand after she said goodbye to you.

“I think you’re going to like it.”

AGUST D seems to be one of the best rappers in the music industry that you’ve ever been listening to. He sounds so aggressive and fast that you needed to listen twice to some of his songs to understand what he was saying, but you ended up adding much more songs into your playlist than you’d like to tell him.

But you did tell him.

“Oh, I’m not doing that crazy rap thing anymore. It was a phase, I guess. By now, I use the name to help smaller musicians and trainees, produce their songs and write their lyrics. It’s better to do so with a bigger name, but AGUST D died a long time ago, I guess I killed him.” Mr. Min says the next day.

"I mean, as long as you keep all of them on Spotify, I'm alright with that. Most of those songs match my aggressive driving vibe and I can't imagine driving to work without it." You try to joke before you realize what it must've sounded like. "Oh lord, I didn't mean it like that!"

You blush, trying to hide your reddened cheeks in your palms, but Mr. Min just laughs it off.

"Don't worry, I get what you mean. I usually play Love Talk as soon as i leave this building."

He even has the audacity to wink at you before he leaves with a grin, causing Ara to coo.

"Appa really likes you if he teases you!"

And the teasing goes on and on, there’s almost no day without a snarky comment from Mr. Min or a sarcastic comment from you-but neither of you takes those words to heart because that’s what you need in your lives, someone to laugh with, someone to make jokes with.

Even though there are plenty of other children in your group and so many parents you talk to daily, the only one you’re happy to see in the afternoon is Mr. Min.

The summer is long gone and fall said goodbye a few weeks ago, December came around and your little crush on Mr. Min isn’t as little anymore-and you can’t help yourself but wonder if he might be into you as well. You’ve shared a few noons talking about Ara’s development and if she’s ready for school next September, but most of the times you didn’t talk about the girl for more than thirty minutes before one of you switched the topic to something more private as the man leans closer to you and locks his gaze with yours.

You’re not as nervous around him as you were before and you can feel him starting to open up towards you as well. Yet, you’ve never met outside of the kindergarten, knowing it would be way too unprofessional and you’d never want to ruin the wonderful bond you share with Ara just because you’re desperate to jump into her father’s lap and call him Daddy too.

You’re not one of those women to go into a club and have a dirty one night stand with a random stranger, but you’ve been too busy to actually go and meet people, so you’ve kind of gotten used to being alone, even though you’re really missing late night cuddles and Disney marathons.

It’s Saturday afternoon and you’ve been strolling through the mall for a while now, looking for some christmas presents for your friends and family-but also wanting to treat yourself because work has been more than just exhausting lately.

You’ve been handling the entire group alone, having a lot more smaller children because new kids have been coming to kindergarten and having to deal with so many parents alone can be pure hell. Sadly enough you’re living all by yourself, only having a few close friends that don’t understand why you’re even doing this underpaid job and your last relationship crashed almost two years ago.

The mall looks amazing, beautiful christmas ornaments are hanging from the ceiling and there must be someone playing the piano somewhere because the soft melodic tunes fill the entire mall, reminding you of Mr. Min once again.

You just stepped out of a lingerie store, something you’re really passionate about even though nobody but yourself sees you in it, but you love the feeling of lace on your skin, love how beautifully the soft colors compliment your skin and love imagining Mr. Min ripping the soft material off you.

The small paper bag in your hand, you look around for another shop that might hold the next christmas present for one of your friends.

“Appa, please! I already have a picture but we need you to have one too!”

You know that voice too well to ignore it, searching the area for the small owner of it, giggling as you found her. Ara and Mr. Min are in the Santa area of the mall that gives you the ability to sit on Santa’s lap and take a picture with him as you tell him your biggest christmas wishes.

But the little girl is not sitting on Santa’s lap, she’s trying to push her father towards the man with the fake beard, clearly wanting him to sit down on that lap.

You giggle, walking towards them just to find out what’s going to happen.

“Ara, I’m too old and heavy for poor Santa, I think he prefers girls your age-wait, no not like that. I think he likes boys and girls-ugh. You’re driving me crazy, princess. Look, there’s a few other kids wanting to have their time with Santa as well, why don’t we just leave and try to find some more presents from the giftshop here, hm?” The man tries to talk his daughter into leaving the uncomfortable situation, but Ara is as stubborn as ever-she always gets what she wants, especially from her father.

“But… I want you to have pictures with Santa too!” She pouts, looking over at the confused Santa before she hears your giggle. “Y/N!”

Mr. Min turns around, a shocked expression on his face and a soft pink tint on his cheeks.

“Oh, Ms. Y/L/N. What a surprise.”

You giggle even more, stepping closer towards them. “Hello Ara, good afternoon Mr. Min,” you bow slightly before accepting the little girl’s hug.

“I see, you really want to sit on Santa’s lap, but Ara doesn’t want to let you because she’d be embarrassed.”

Yoongi hums in agreement. “Horrible, those children. I mean, I just want a nice christmas picture with Santa, but you know how they are… right before puberty hits them.”

“Y/N, Appa doesn’t want to take a picture with Santa, would you sit on his lap and take a picture for me?” Ara looks up at you with her big eyes and like always, you can’t say no. Instead, you hand Mr. Min your bags-not thinking about the fact that one of them is from the lingerie store-before taking Ara’s hand and walking over to the smiling Santa.

The picture is quickly taken and not even five minutes later, Mr. Min hands you your bags, whispering, so Ara wouldn’t hear you. “I think the peach one will suit you the best.”

Ara nods and rips the bags out of Mr. Min’s hands to show you her cute dresses and bows while the man just stares at you with an open mouth. Did you really just say that to him?

You gasp, hiding the bags behind your back but who are you to deny the fact that this man is the exact reason you stepped into the store?

“Thank you, I hope someone will get to see them before Christmas. It would be a shame to waste those pretty pieces for some lame mirror selfies,” you smile innocently before squatting down next to Ara. “Did you buy something nice yet?”

“Appa, we wanted to get hot chocolate, can Y/N come too please?”

Yoongi is speechless once more as he quietly follows his daughter and her kindergarten teacher towards the mall’s cafe-realizing that he shouldn’t have chosen his tightest pair of skinny jeans because somehow, they got quite uncomfortable as soon as you arrived.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow at his daughter before he picks up all the dresses that Ara tried to shove back into the bags. “If she wants, she’s welcome to join, but I think you should ask her first, maybe she is busy.”

You blush at the invitation, not sure whether to accept it or not-but you’re not one to decline on hot chocolate. Smiling at Ara, you nod. “Show me where to get the best hot chocolate, I’m craving something sweet and thick down my throat.”

He watches you as Ara grabs your hand and swings them around with a soft giggle, heart warming as he sees your fond smile.

Ara talks about you a lot-hell, Yoongi asks about you a lot whenever Ara doesn't want to talk about you but watch her favorite show.

It's unprofessional and probably not allowed, Yoongi knows, but Ara leaves for school in March anyways, so who cares?

It's obvious to the both of you that you're interested in each other, the flirting and teasing coming to a point where Yoongi can't wait for another snarky remark of yours.

And now that he has the chance to sit and talk with you outside of your workplace, you just chose to buy a bag full of fucking beautiful lingerie (yes, Yoongi looked inside, no, he doesn't regret it).

Ara leads you into this beautiful cat cafe that apparently has "The best hot chocolate and bubble tea, but it's too cold for bubble tea… Can they make hot bubble tea?" as Ara says, earning a harsh "no" from Yoongi, because that's something he wishes for as well.

"Go find a place with Mr. Y/L/N, Ara. I'll get your order, yeah? What can I order for you?" Yoongi looks at you as he pulls out his wallet, giving you some time to read the menu.

"Oh, the candy cane hot chocolate, please! And please, as long as we are not talking inside the kindergarten, call me Y/N. I mean, you've seen my underwear, I think you deserve to call me by my name."

Yoongi blushes, nodding and rushes towards the cashier to order your drinks. You smile at the man, then at the cats-they look somewhat similar-before you sit down next to Ara who is currently petting four cats on her lap.

"They're adorable," you coo, "Do you have any pets?"

Ara nods with a big smile and hands you one of the cats, a pretty one with orange fur and big eyes.

"I have a turtle! Gukkie gave it to me and Appa didn't like it first, but I love her!"

You enjoy the cat's purring as you gently stroke her chin. "A turtle sounds lovely, I hope you can show it to me one day."

"Oh, that won't be a problem, I can invite you for dinner and Appa will get shy and red in the face, but he wouldn't say no because he's super soft for-" "ALPACAS! I'm soft for alpacas, haha, here we go, three hot chocolates."

Yoongi appears with a pained expression as he places your hot chocolate right in front of you.

"Thanks, Yoongi," you smile at the man and Yoongi swears that his heart stopped beating for a second. "I'm soft for Alpacas as well."

Right after you all finished your drinks, Ara decides that it’s time to walk through the mall once more, just to make sure that Santa is still there and will take another picture with hot chocolate-filled Ara.

“Did you enjoy your date with Y/N, Appa?” She looks up at her father as you walk towards the mall. Yoongi trembles, blushing brightly. “I’m pretty sure this wasn’t a date, Ara. Don’t assume things like this, it’s rude,” he mumbles as he gently pets her head to make sure she isn’t hurt by his comment.

You giggle, whispering loud enough for Yoongi to hear. “I really liked it, Ara. Your Appa can be funny if he wants to.”

The picture with Santa comes out pretty, even though the man groaned as two grown adults decided to sit on each of his legs, the bright smiling Ara kneeling in front of them. But it’s really worth it, because Yoongi’s smile never leaves his lips this evening, gums showing beautifully on the picture and you quickly make sure to get a copy of that picture as well.

Yoongi’s eyes widen. “So was this a… you know?” It’s endearing, how shy he suddenly seems to be. You’ve never seen him like this. Stressed, overworked and happy - yes. Shy and blushing? Never.

You nod with a soft smile as you lay your hand on his shoulder.

“Yes, I’d like that to be a ‘you know what’, Yoongi.”

You can't even tell when the two of you officially started dating, but you'll never forget the first kiss you've shared during one of your walks-thanks to Ara for snapping a picture of it. Yoongi's hands wrapped around your waist, eyes clenched shut and lips curled in a soft smile as fresh snow fell down on you.

Seeing Yoongi at work wasn’t as weird as you had expected it to be, it’s quite the opposite. He’s attentive and lovely, bringing you fresh croissants or donuts every morning or puting little chocolate for you and Ara in his daughter’s lunchbox.

He’s caring, picking you up after your shift to invite you to dinners and walks through the forest with Ara, because that little girl just loves walking in the fresh snow that has started to fall recently. She takes pictures of your footprints with Yoongi’s phone and makes him promise to print it for her to hang up.

“Of course I can, Ara. You’re already wearing your sleeping clothes and you’ve brushed your teeth with Appa, so hurry up and pick out the book you want me to read!”

Ara grows closer and closer to you, until that one day where you stay over the Min’s house for dinner, she asks you to bring her to bed.

“Can she, Appa? I want her to read my favorite bedtime story to me! Please, Y/N,” Ara looks up at you with a pout, her beautiful eyes-that remind you of Yoongi-sparkling with admiration.

That girl really makes your heart melt, combined with the soft smile that Yoongi gives you. And suddenly, you feel like you’re meant to be here, helping that man that you’ve grown so close to, helping the girl that lost her mother way too early and maybe even helping yourself with accepting that love really comes unexpectedly.

You gently tuck the soft blanket over Ara and place her favorite stuffie next to her as you smile at the girl fondly. "Sleep well, Ara," you whisper quietly, trying not to wake her up.

"Kissies, please," she mumbles sleepily and makes grabby hands towards you.

"Ara, I-" "Please," she whines and opens her eyes, tears starting to build up.

"Okay, it's okay, Ara." You swipe her hair out of her face before you plant a soft little kiss onto the girl's forehead. "Good night, sweetheart."

"Good night, Y/N. Will you be there tomorrow morning?"

Your smile fades, unsure if you really want to tell the little girl the truth.

"Probably not, I have to get ready for work. You know that I love to wear dresses on Thursdays and I didn't bring mine. But we will see each other in the kindergarten!"

"Okay," she whispers before she falls back into a quiet slumber.

Yoongi has cleaned the kitchen in the meantime and poured more wine for the both of you to enjoy in front of the fireplace.

"She really adores you," he says as you sit down next to him, sipping the rosé Yoongi bought just for you.

"And I adore her. She's an angel. Thank you for allowing me to spend so much time with her, Yoon."

Yoongi blushes again, shaking his head. The greyish blonde hair got messier as the evening passed. "No, Y/N. You're the first mother-figure Ara has, I have to thank you in both mine and Ara's name. I know that dating a single father is a lot, but you're accepting my family so well… I never thought I'd find another woman in my life again. Ever since my wife died, it was hard for me to even look at other women, let alone build up something like a relationship with them because I always felt bad. But that's what she would have wanted for me. To love again, to not waste my last handsome days," his lips curl into a smirk before he shakes again.

Then, his sharp eyes met yours and soften within seconds.

"I… I don't know if it's the right time, we've known each other for two years, we've been officially dating for only three weeks, but I think I won't change my mind about it-no I know that I won't change my mind. I love you, Y/N. And I know that Ara loves you too."

You gasp, lips beginning to tremble once your eyes meet Yoongi's. "Yoongi…," you whisper before you place your glass on the table and basically jump onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"I wanted to be the one to tell you first. I love you so much, Yoongi. I've had this stupid crush on you ever since you saw me in that wet dress, ever since you've shown me your music. Ever since I've seen you being the wonderful father you are-and that's so sexy, you can't even imagine."

Yoongi smirks as his hands find their place on the curve of your ass. "Sexy, huh? Me, doing the laundry and cooking dinner? Or me walking Ara to kindergarten with the homemade lunch boxes? That turns you on?"

You laugh, hiding your face in his neck as you lean closer to press your lips against his ear.

"All of that-and the way that you love Ara with all your heart, that's maybe the sexiest thing about you."

The man groans as he grabs you even tighter. "I never thought that sweet talk would turn me on even more than dirty talk," he laughs shakily as he wiggles his hips slightly to get into a more comfortable position that won't suffocate his hardening erection.

You sigh, sit up and run your hands through his hair. "Isn't all of this too early? I always tell myself that I shouldn't fall so fast, but here I am, ready to go every step with you."

Yoongi nods before he presses a peck on your nose. "Same, but we have all the time on earth. Ara wants us to get married by tomorrow, but I'm sure she'll survive it if we decide to postpone it for a few weeks."

You giggle as you look over your shoulder to the fireplace. "Did someone ever suck you off in front of a fireplace? Isn't this the definition of Christmas?"

The man underneath you gasps in shock. "No, but… I mean, I… You don't… have to?"

Laughing, you slide out of his lap and onto the floor, thankful for the soft carpet. "I want to, bubs. I wouldn't do something either of us isn't comfortable with. I assume you're alright with it?"

"Of course, but… I guess nobody ever did it because they wanted to, but because they feel like they had to?"

You raise an eyebrow at him, obviously disappointed in his previous partners.

"It's as much fun and pleasure for me as it is for you, believe me, Yoon. Now lay back and enjoy, yeah?" You give him a calming smile as you open his pants carefully, then sliding them down his toned legs.

You press kisses all around his thighs to warm him up to the feeling, knowing that it has to be overwhelming to have some that close after all that time. Then, you gently remove his boxer shorts as well, leaving him bare and proud in front of you.

You groan as you start to stroke his cock, earning a low growl from Yoongi. "So beautiful," you whisper, then you take him into your mouth, getting a feeling for the weight on your tongue before you start bopping your head.

Yoongi tries to contain himself, knowing that Ara could wake up every second, but alone the sight in front of him could make him come with a scream.

Instead, he cups your cheek, feeling the bulge that he causes there. Another groan leaves his lips.

You look up at him, smirking-or trying to, with a mouth full of cock-and leading his hand into your hair, using it to push you down even more.

Yoongi's eyes lighten up. "Really?"

You almost laugh out, but you're doing your best to contain yourself and nod, placing your hands on his thighs to stop whenever you can't take it anymore. Yoongi is long and thicker than the average you've had before, but it's a challenge that's worth it.

He pushes you down slowly, enjoying the hot warmth of your mouth and then your throat as he pushes in-surprised that you didn't really gag around him.

Spit trickles down your chin as he moves faster, thrusting his hips to meet the movements of his hand and enjoying the gurgling sounds you make.

He comes far to quick for his own liking, shooting his load down your throat with a quiet groan. "Fuck."

You giggle as you swallow what he gives you, standing up to sit back on his lap to kiss him.

"You're welcome."

Then, before you can grab your wine again, he flips you around and goes on his knees in front of you. "My turn," he smirks, eyes shining dangerously behind his fringe.

"Yoongi, I-," you try to say, but he shushes you with a sloppy kiss.

"I know that I have to, but believe me: I love giving pleasure more than receiving it."

You pout, hands running through his soft hair.

"I didn't shave…," you whisper, a bit ashamed because you didn't come prepared, not thinking that this would be happening today.

The man in front of you raises an eyebrow.

"Do you think I am a 15 year old, pre puberty fuckboy that cares about shaved pussies? It's natural, love. Even if you can't believe it: I grow hair too, nobody is freshly shaved every day. I don't mind that, okay? Now, stop pouting and let me do my work, will you? Can you be a good girl and do that for me? All you've got to do is lean back, open your legs, throw them around my shoulders and let me devour you."

His shameless words turn you on, you can't even deny it-especially not when your panties are that damp. So, you naturally obey and help him to remove your pants.

"I told you, peach is your color," Yoongi groans in his deep Satoori as he looks at your clothed core. The peach colored lace has darkened from your arousal and the man can't help it but press his face against the material, licking one bold stripe over it.

Nobody has ever done that to you, rather pulled them off in a hurry because they thought that body fluids were disgusting, but Yoongi didn't seem to mind as he gently bites your folds through the lace.

"God," you moan in pleasure as Yoongi finally pulls your panties to the side and spits onto your pussy, making it even wetter.

You're a whimpering mess as soon as Yoongi's tongue is on you, flicking and playing with your clit, collecting your juices and spreading them all over your pussy. You've read about that before; men eating pussy like they're starving, but Yoongi is somewhat different.

He eats pussy like he wants you to always remind it, to make you obedient and never being able to enjoy anyone else doing that job.

He does it well-of course. His tongue is as fast as he's been spitting rhymes on his mixtape, and you're more than thankful for that.

He doesn't even get to use his fingers before your orgasm approaches you, strong waves of pleasure hitting you as Yoongi keeps on kissing and slowly licking you through your high.

Then, he grins at you. "Round two, here we go."

And this time, it's not only his tongue working wonders, but also his fingers stroking you on the inside until they found your spot.

You press your hands on your mouth to keep yourself from screaming out loud, hips bucking wildly as you come for a second time within less than ten minutes. And again, Yoongi guides you through it and softly caresses your stomach.

"Fuck, I love you," you pant as he comes back up and steals a kiss from you.

"I can't wait to have you in my bed properly," he whispers and takes a large sip from his wine.

You can only agree.

You've started to spend the nights at Yoongi's more often, bringing Ara to work with you and helping Yoongi with her and the household whenever you can. Your relationship blooms beautifully and Ara is the happiest little bean when you're around.

Obviously, you spent Christmas with Yoongi and Ara as well, buying little presents and enjoying the comfortable atmosphere with the family.

Yoongi gave you a spare key to his house, so you're always able to visit them, spending the nights there and soon enough, you moved in.

❄❄❄❄

The Christmas after that, you surprised Ara with the adoption papers, telling her that now that she's in school and not one of your kindergarten kids anymore, she'll be able to finally call you Mommy (not that Ara minded before, you just felt weird and guilty about it).

And here you are now, preparing the huge breakfast for your third Christmas around, smiling at the ring that adorns your finger.

"Smells fabulous, Mama," Ara says as she runs towards you and falls into your arms.

"Do you want me to help you with dessert, Mrs Min?" Yoongi asks as he presses a kiss onto your cheeks. You lean into his touch, shaking your head. "It's almost done. You can go into the living room, I'll be there in a minute to open our presents, bubs."

Yoongi prepares the fireplace, lightens some candles with Ara and lets his daughter hand out the presents.

"I have one more for you, Yoon," you whisper as you hand him a small box.

"Oh? Can I open this first?" He tilts his head curiously, shaking the light box.

"Open!" Ara squeaks and sits down between her father and you. You nod with a fond smile as Yoongi lifts the top. Then, silence.

"Really?" He whispers with teary eyes.

"Yes, finally," you smile, "Ara, you'll become a big sister!"

Yoongi sniffs, hugging his family tight.

"And she'll be the best sister in the world. Merry Christmas, loves."

#bts #bts fic #min yoongi x reader #single dad yoongi #ksmutclub #bangtansmutcentral #bangtanarmynet #suganetwork #yoongi fic #yoongi fanfiction #min yoongi #yoongi smut #magicshopnet #bts smut #bts fluff #christmas fic #bts christmas #christmas collab

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angelicamerlinbarnes · 3 years ago

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Okay but like I feel like Diego is the kind of person to flirt with really bad pick-up lines and Klaus is just Not Having It

featuring: Diego being a flustered Mama's boy and Klaus being a disaster dumbass and the two of them being completely in love with each other anyway

DISCLAIMER: None of the pick-up lines are mine, but the responses and ensuing shenanigans are :)

(there's fifty of these so buckle up kids :) sorry not sorry <3)

seriously though some of these are really bad

#1: He A Snack

Diego: Baby, you belong in the vending machine because you’re a snack.

Klaus: Diego you know I’m claustrophobic.

Diego: Don’t you mean Klaus-trophobic??? *finger guns*

Klaus: *blinks*

Klaus: I want a divorce.

#2: I’m From Hell

Diego: Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?

Klaus: I’m a veteran addict and abuse victim who can see ghosts, Diego.

Klaus: Everything hurts.

#3: Animal Puns

Diego: *points to TV screen playing the Discovery Channel* Hey Klaus.

Diego: You’re my otter half.

Klaus: Diego those are meerkats.

#4: Stars

Diego: The stars are beautiful tonight.

Klaus: Yup.

Diego: You know who else is beautiful?

Klaus: Ben.

#5: Get Out Your Handcuffs Mister

Diego: You’re under arrest… for stealing my heart.

Klaus: Diego you got kicked out of the police academy like five years ago, just give up.

#6: Bad Boys

Diego: *leaning against the doorframe like a moron* So. I hear you like bad boys.

Klaus: Diego you cried because you accidentally stepped on a bee last week.

Diego: Well yeah but -

Klaus: You held a funeral for it. You made us all speak. You had Allison fly in from California. It was a fucking bee, Diego.

Diego: … I wear leather?

Klaus: So does every other kid who shops at Hot Topic. You’re not special.

#7: Prince Charming

Diego: Your knight in shining armor is here -

Klaus: One, that’s a turtleneck, not armor.

Klaus: Two, you’re covered in blood. That’s the opposite of shiny.

Klaus: Three, you smell like dead fish. Go take a shower.

#8: Chemistry

Diego: Did we have a class together? Because I could’ve sworn we had -

Klaus: Chemistry? Yup. Also English and math and foreign languages and history and like every other fucking thing because we grew up in the same sadistic boarding school, Diego.

#9: The Store Can’t Just Give Away Things For Free. That’s A Terrible Way To Run A Business.

Diego: I like your pants.

Klaus: Thanks. I got them out of a dumpster. And yes, you can have them 100% off.

Diego: *voice cracks* Really?

Klaus: No.

#10: Boyfriend Material

Diego: My jeans are made of -

Klaus: You’re wearing leather pants Diego.

Diego: Okay but -

Klaus: So they’re made of leather and they’re not fucking jeans.

#11: Digits

Diego: I lost my phone number. Can I have -

Klaus: None of us have phones, Diego.

Diego: I can… buy us some?

Klaus: Fine. I want my number to be 1-420-420-4201.

Diego: Baby no.

Klaus: *pulling out the puppy dog eyes* Pwetty pwease?

Diego: Fine, but mine’s gonna be 1-696-969-6969.

Klaus: I love you so much. Marry me. Have my babies.

#12: Love At First Sight

Diego: Do you believe in love at first sight or -

Klaus: If I did I’d have already fallen in love with a lot of hot ghosts.

Diego: - should I walk by again?

Klaus: You’ve been pacing for the past ten minutes, Gogo. I think if it was gonna happen it would’ve by now.

#13: You Have Fine Written All Over You

Diego: Are you a parking ticket? Cause -

Klaus: Diego I can’t drive.

#14: His Eyes Are Green Not Blue You Dipshit

Diego: Your eyes are an ocean, and I’m lost at sea.

Klaus: ... can’t you, like, hold your breath forever?

Diego: *blinks* Baby, I love you, but you’re ruining this with our childhood trauma.

Klaus: Well since you’ve refused therapy I just thought this was the next best option.

Diego: I take back what I said about loving you.

#15: Math Is Dumb And I Wish School Would Stop Teaching It

Diego: Are you a forty-five degree angle?

Klaus: Actually, because humans have non-linear body shapes, it’s impossible for their specific angles to be measured -

Diego: Are you high or have you been defiling Five’s books again?

Klaus: *blinks* Why can’t it be both?

Diego: *rethinking life decisions*

#16: Baby I’m All Yours

Diego: Do you have a name?

Klaus: Klaus.

Diego: Or can I call you mine?

Klaus: I mean I prefer “baby”, but sure.

Diego: *super wide eyes* Really?

Klaus: *melts into a puddle of glitter* Yeah, Gogo.

#17: (Not) Bookworms

Diego: Thank god I brought my library card. Cause I’m here to check you out.

Klaus: *through a mouthful of waffles* God isn’t real. We all die and rot beneath the earth to be eaten by maggots. There is no such thing as a higher power.

Klaus: *swallows waffles and takes a really loud slurp of an orange juice and chocolate milk combo*

Klaus: Oh, and the library’s closed for renovations til, like, Christmas so you’re outta luck, sorry.

Diego: I thought you met god? Little girl on a bicycle?

Klaus: Her? Nah, only Satan’s got that much sass. Plus, that wasn’t heaven.

Diego: And you know this how?

Klaus: *squishes Diego’s face with both hands* Think about it. Do you really think dear ol’ dad’s in heaven?

Diego: Can you let of my face please?

#18: Bad Move, Buddy

Diego: Are you a pre-historic fossil? Cause you’re my missing link.

Klaus:

Klaus: Did you just call me old?

Diego, backing out of the room slowly: What? No! No of course not! No, obviously no, absolutely not -

Klaus: *releases savage war cry*

Diego: *runs for his goddamn life*

#19: I Rate This 0/10

Diego: Are you from Tennessee? Cause you’re the only -

Klaus: I don’t know where I’m from. I’m an orphan.

Diego: Oh… I know, baby -

Klaus: And the piece of shit that adopted me lived in New York anyway. We’re in New York right now actually. Do you need a geography lesson? I think Pogo’s got a map -

Diego: Klaus.

#20: Oh Shit

Diego: If nothing lasts forever, will you be my nothing?

Klaus:

Klaus: *tears up* I’m nothing?

Diego: Oh no. No no no. No, baby, you’re not nothing, don’t cry, I’m so sorry, that’s not what I meant, baby - oh my god please don’t cry -

#21: You’ve Got Everything I’m Searching For

Diego: Is your name Google? Because -

Klaus: Diego. For the last time…

Klaus: My name is Kimberly Linda Aerealia Ulysses Saffron Hargreeves the Twenty-Fourth. I don’t know why I need to keep explaining this to you -

Diego, kissing him quiet: You’re my favorite person in the world, you know that?

#22: Don’t Make Bets You’ll Lose, Luther.

Diego: Luther bet me a hundred bucks I couldn’t talk to the prettiest person here. How do you wanna spend his money?

Klaus: Drugs.

Diego: Baby -

Klaus: *beams* Nah, I’m just kidding. Stuffed giraffes.

Diego: *grins* For Five?

Klaus: *nods* For Five.

Diego:

Klaus:

Diego: He’ll hate them.

Klaus: Exactly. Let’s go.

#23: Deja Vu

Diego: Have we met before?

Klaus: Yes. Obviously. Are you also high?

Diego: No -

Diego: Wait, you’re high?

Klaus:

Diego:

Klaus:

Diego:

Klaus: No?

#24: Such An Optimist

Diego: Are you a time traveller?

Klaus: No, that’s Five.

Diego: Cause I think you’re my future!

Klaus: *stares blankly*

Diego: No? Nothing? Nada?

Klaus: In the future we’re all dead dipshit.

Klaus: Because. Ya know.

Klaus: THERE’S A FUCKING APOCALYPSE COMING.

Diego:

Diego: Okay then.

#25: Please Go To The Hospital.

Diego: Are you my appendix? Cause my stomach’s fluttering and I think I should take you out.

Klaus:

Klaus: Did you drink water from the fish tank again?

Diego: *turning green* Luther dared me to okay???!!!!

#26: Suicidal Tendencies

Diego: Hey gorgeous -

Klaus: Let me guess. I should drop dead?

Diego: What?! No! Baby -

#27: Infinitely On The Naughty List (And Not The Good Kind Of Naughty List (If There Is One I’m Asexual I Don’t Know))

Diego: Are you Santa Klaus? Cause you make all my wishes come true.

Klaus:

Klaus: You have five seconds to run.

Diego: *already two streets away* Fucking shit -

#28: You Can’t Use That Every Time We Have An Argument, Tony.

Diego: Kiss me if I’m wrong, but dinosaurs still exist right?

Klaus: I mean, there’s one in the corner of our living room right now, so I guess?

Diego:

Diego: *squeaks* You - you can see dinosaur ghosts?

Klaus: I mean, there’s a chance that thing Ben’s petting is just a super deformed ostrich, but yeah, I think so.

Diego:

Diego: *tearing up* That’s so cool.

#29: A Whole New Kind Of Thirst Trap

Diego: I’m thirsty. But guess whose body is 75% water?

Diego: *smirks*

Klaus: *frowns*

Klaus: Hold on, I know this one…

Diego: Klaus -

Klaus: *snaps fingers* Oh, I know! Luther!

Diego: *horrified* What the fuck Klaus why the fuck would you say that -

#30: What A Tragedy

Diego: You must be a campfire. Because you’re super hot and I want s’more.

Klaus:

Klaus: Diego sweetheart, you’re allergic to marshmallows.

Diego: *tearing up* I know.

Klaus: You wanna hug, baby?

Diego: *crying* Yes please.

#31: That Can’t Be Allowed

Diego: Don’t tell me if you want me to take you out to dinner. Just smile for yes, or do a backflip/somersault/counter-spin gymnastics combination for no.

Klaus: *smirks*

Klaus: *does a triple flip and lands perfectly on the top of the bar counter*

Diego: *turns bright red* That was h-h-hot.

Klaus: *beams and jumps down into Diego’s arms bridal-style*

Klaus: *kisses his cheek* I know, baby.

#32: Merry Christmas

Diego: You’re the reason Santa started the Naughty List.

Klaus: *blinks*

Klaus: *pouts*

Klaus: No fair! He told me last week I was on the Nice List!

Diego: What? Klaus? What does that -

Diego: OH MY GOD KLAUS IS SANTA DEAD???!!!!

#33: I’ll Keep You Safe, Honey.

Diego: I lost my teddy bear. Will you sleep with me instead?

Klaus: *pulls out a stuffed tiger*

Klaus: He got lost in the kitchen. Don’t worry, I rescued him for you.

Diego: *takes soft tiger*

Diego: *voice cracks* Oh. Thanks.

Klaus: *kisses his forehead* You’re welcome, baby.

#34: Excuse Me?

Diego: The only thing your eyes haven’t told me is your name.

Klaus, internally: Shit. What if he finds out I stole like five of his knives and all of the cookies last week?

Klaus, externally: *blinks*

Klaus: Um… Stefonopolis?

#35: I Am Not Apologizing For This One

Diego: If you were a steak, you’d be well done.

Klaus: But I’m so unique…

Klaus: I talk to the dead, Diego.

Diego: Okay…?

Klaus: *smirks*

Klaus: So wouldn’t I be medium rare?

Ben: Ooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

#36: Leonardo Da Vinci Was Arrested Multiple Times For Homosexual Activity.

Diego: Is this a museum? Cause you’re a work of art.

Klaus: *dancing to the soundtrack of High School Musical 3* Actually Five took me back to Italy once. Leonardo da Vinci and I had some fun.

Diego:

Diego: Oh my god. Seriously?

Diego: *looks up picture of Mona Lisa, now titled Mona Klausa*

Diego: How the fuck -

#37: Why Would You Say That Though

Diego: Am I sleepwalking? Cause I’ve only seen you in my dreams.

Klaus: *sitting on the counter and eating a donut in one bite* Are they dirty?

Luther: *chokes on a pickle*

Diego: Oh my god no -

Diego: Well sometimes -

Diego: I mean no of course not -

Luther: *praying to whoever’s up there to just kill him already*

#38: Be Safe Kids!

Diego: Can you hold this for me?

Klaus: Sweetie, you need to wash your hands.

#39: Apocalypse Averted!

Diego: If looks could kill, you’d be a weapon of mass destruction.

Klaus: *blinks*

Klaus: I thought that was Vanya.

Diego:

Diego, panicking: Holy shit Klaus you can’t just say things like that -

Vanya: *crying from laughter*

#40: Attractive

Diego: Do you swallow magnets? Because you’re -

Klaus: *shoves him up against the wall*

Klaus: How did you find out? Who told you? Was it Ben? I swear to god I’ll kill him -

Diego: *squeaks* What?

#41: First You’ve Gotta Propose Diego

Diego: Wouldn’t we look cute on a wedding cake together?

Klaus: Diego. Did you buy me a cake?

Diego:

Klaus:

Diego:

Klaus: I’m waiting.

Diego: Right sir yes sir right away sir -

#42: He May Not Be A Kitten But He Is As Soft As One

Diego: If I followed you home, would you keep me?

Klaus: I’m homeless, Diego.

Diego: What? You are? Oh no, baby - you can come stay with me?

Klaus: *looks up from Disney Princess coloring book and raises an eyebrow* Is your bed available?

Diego, blushing: Ye-yeah, b-ba-baby. Whe-whenever you-u w-want.

Klaus: *smiles*

Klaus: *takes Diego’s hand*

Klaus: Okay.

Diego: *dies a little bit inside (in a good way)*

#43: It’s Just You.

Diego: Is it hot in here or is it just you?

Klaus, blushing: I -

Five: DIEGO. THE HOUSE IS ON FIRE. NOW IS NOT THE TIME.

#44: ‘Scuse Me, Mate?

Diego: You know, penguins mate for life. Wanna be my penguin?

Klaus: Eh. I’ve always been more of an iguana man.

Diego:

Diego: What?

#45: You Look Like… Antonio Banderas With The Long Hair.

Diego: How’s the most beautiful person in the world doing today?

Klaus: *buried in a Vogue magazine* I don’t know I’m not Antonio Banderas.

#46: What The Fuck Klaus

Diego: Do you have a map? I keep getting lost in your eyes.

Klaus: *hands him a Candyland board* Here. I stole it from Pogo.

#47: You Dumbass

Diego: I hate my last name. Can I borrow yours?

Klaus:

Klaus: We have the same last name, Diego.

Diego: *blinks*

Diego: Fuck you’re right -

#48: Okay But Diego Would Make A Great Aladdin Though

Diego: I’m not a genie, but I can still make your dreams come true.

Klaus: *wrinkles his nose*

Klaus: You can get me a pink elephant with jaundice?

Diego: *blinks*

Diego: What the fuck Klaus -

#49: HELLO

Diego: Is that a knife or are you just happy to see me?

Klaus: I don’t just have random knives on me Diego, I’m not you.

Diego: So you are happy to see me?

Klaus: I mean you just interrupted a very riveting episode of Sesame Street, so… we’ll see.

#50: It’s Always Best To Start With The Truth.

Diego: I love you.

Klaus: *beams* That’s all you had to say, darling.

47 notes · View notes

peeterparkr · 4 years ago

Text

perennial;tom holland|thirteen.

chapter thirteen: heleniums

↳ flower meaning: comfort.

chapter summary: ‘very Tom and y/n’

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: Cherry, angst, fluff if you squint, smut (?, idk if there was any it’d be after the *), this hurts, but...rollercoaster

word count: 12.3K

SOCIAL MEDIA BEFORE THE CHAPTER:

masterlist & profiles

no social media

previous chapter next chapter perennial masterlist.

perfidy ( series masterlist)

wanna be tagged?

Hi, I’m back, super hard chapter to write, honestly. Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it, happy new year.

There were, with certainty, and exactly, three things Tom had regretted the most from that night, which, had they been avoided, he would’ve not had this mess.

That night, not being y/n’s birthday, but the night before he slept with Cherry. It had led to the next day, and the next night, and to this mess.

Tom had been confused, that is to say, he can’t be blamed for being confused. What had been something very, very innocent had turned into his worst nightmare. The background on his head was the peculiar reasoning behind the big decision that led to his first regret.

The day before he slept with Cherry Tom had read the script. Not all of it, just part of it. Again, the part which had led to his broken heart. Tom regretted doing that, because the mind is such a dark place when it wants to be. Our minds are our biggest enemy, because who else knows what hurts the most than ourselves.

Because Tom knew that the words written on that script hadn’t come from nothing. It’s what bothered him the most, is that every single word written there was completely and utterly true.

He had been a monster.

He regretted that, but we already knew that.

He then had read over and over y/n’s last letter. Her telling him it was him, and no one else. Then why had she left? Why had he let her go? There was his mind telling him, being reasonable, telling him she’d left for the script, because she had. But then there was that one thought flying through his mind. She’d left and fall in love with Tim. She had once, why not twice? Y/N was vulnerable, and vulnerable hearts are easy to shape. Ghost haunting Tom’s mind, fearing he’d be buried deep in y/n’s mind. How much can a heart take? How many wounds until it finally dies.

A flower can only bloom when it’s watered.

He knew she’d end up forgetting him, that’s what the script said. But the letter said they’d be infinite. Would they? How many pieces were left out of the puzzle, making it unsolvable. Was she trying to get over him?

Did he have to move on? He’d said that. She’d said that. Because it had made no sense why she left so suddenly when he’d needed her the most, to take her home and just listen to her, like she was an old song. She’d left when Tom had needed her the most,when he needed to make sure that they were supposed to love each other, to make sure he was the one.

The second thing he’d regretted that night had been answering Cherry’s call, and accepting her offer to go out for a drink. He had been well aware of her flirting. And he’d give in because it felt like a cheap love , and he couldn’t afford for more at time, and it was easy, so unbelievable easy. Like she was giving in to him, without any ‘buts’. Without any built in walls, without any prejudice.

He would’ve never known that he was so stupid.

Tom had been lying when he said he hadn’t seen the next night coming. Because he’d made the decision the night before, at that one pub, with the warm beer that gave no entertainment, listening to a laugh that sounded like hers, some pair of eyes that if you tried hard enough, you could see hers. Someone so close, so near hear. And after a few more drinks, familiarity is what we all need. The hearts make the eyes see what we want to see. And if your mind is wild enough, he could pretend it was her.

The third thing he regretted from that night, it had been leaning over to kiss Cherry, thinking that the alcohol would blind him enough to make him believe her lips were y/n’s. But when it’s not hers, then you’ll never be satisfied.

He hadn’t been, but the lips had been welcoming. It had been him. He knew that. He’d fallen under the spell that Cherry was.

Cherry, honestly, was a dark omen with raving hope. Tom had been a victim. Because Cherry had known what she was doing.

But Cherry had also fallen under the lie that Tom was. Cherry, deep in her heart had known that y/n, her cousin, whom she barely knew, had something to do with Tom. She couldn’t map what, she knew they were enemies. Was there something else? He had shown up with flowers.

Y/N when asked by Cherry, had once said only a fool would fall for Tom.

And Cherry had been such a fool. Cherry, just like Tom, had gone through a heartbreak. An awful one, the one that makes you think that you’re not supposed to love. Cherry, had heard y/n say heartbreaks can be felt, and she agreed. Her ex girlfriend had broken up with her because she’d decided that Cherry just ‘wasn’t what she wanted’ Cherry wasn’t ‘enough to make her happy’.

‘Cherry, you’re a season, and I need a year.’

It hurts. Cherry had known about it, how she was like a flower, only blooming every now and then. Not all year long. Cherry, most people said, was someone who people used, for a night. She’d known it long enough. Though Cherry is now the villain in our story, she can’t be blamed. Hearts are never easy, and hearts are vulnerable.

And vulnerable hearts are easy to be shaped. Everyone thought Cherry was perfect, she’d hear it said, by other people, ‘oh, you’re the kind of girl that steals every glance in the room’, ‘you’re the one girl everyone wished they were’. Yet, she was never loved.

So when Tom, trying to search for something so familiar to the one he loved, he’d made Cherry believe that she could be loved.

She had tried not to, at first, but when Tom had kissed her that night, with those eyes he gave to y/n, but only with hopes of trying to find y/n there. And Tom hadn’t been disappointed, and he had kissed Cherry again and again.

And while Tom was trying to find what he was looking for, not finding it, Cherry had found the one thing she’d searched for, her entire life, someone who wasn’t getting tired, someone who asked for more.

Complicated.

Cherry had heard it then, how Tom had left. And she was left again with those thoughts in her mind, what had she done wrong?

James had come and told her he was forbidden territory, that Tom and y/n had a lot of story, that Cherry couldn’t go there. That she couldn’t go to Tom because he was forbidden. But how could he be? Her secret in a crowded room, how easily had she fallen for him, because he was oh, so easy to love.

She remember the night he’d kissed her, first silence, no patience. How desperate the kiss had been, and how the whole world had stopped, because he kissed her like he loved her.

He didn’t, but Cherry didn’t know that. Because it’s easier to believe that he wanted to take off her dress, to kiss her soul. It didn’t make sense, and she’d hidden under the lie that it’d be a rebound, a mutual agreement, but how hard had she tried to keep her hands to herself because she only wanted his hands to touch her.

And she’d dream about him, all night long. If he’d kissed her that way, it meant he had feelings, too, right?

What a fool Cherry had been, used as a ploy. He’d come the very next day, and there were his lips again, on her. So desperate for her.

But Tom knew that though he had tried to kiss her like she was y/n, she wasn’t. But who wouldn’t fall for someone who is kissing you like your the love of their life?

People can’t be replaced, we are all unique, and Tom had only realized it after Cherry’s hair was against his neck, after mistaking pleasure for passion, and after confusing lust with love.

Problem was Tom hadn’t told Cherry, not exactly. He’d said the wrong words.

Maybe Tom did regret a fourth thing, saying those words. “It’s the most similar thing that it’s to love, but one can’t pretend enough.”

Cherry hadn’t understood the meaning behind that sentence. She thought he meant he loved her, while he, actually told her it wasn’t enough to be love.

Then, gone. Gone.

And then, y/n’s birthday had come around, and he was there, it was her time, because y/n and Cherry aren’t so different. They both wanted a fairytale. She had, indisputably, and after been told a lie, she had so foolishly tried to look for Tom.

Love blinds us and makes us see what we want to see, and she hadn’t seen Tom and y/n. She’d seen y/n and Tim, and she’d seen Tom here and there, not with her. And she’d told her cousin, how she was deeply, madly in love with Tom and couldn’t get him out of his head.

James had said: “you’re drunk, Cherry, dear, you can’t be in love.”

Who was James to tell her her feelings were not hers? And she’d heard it again, from that one guy, Josh, ‘how she was the prettiest that night’, yet he’d kissed Emma. He had heard it from Tim, ‘you look stunning’, yet his eyes had been on y/n.

And she’d been rejected, just when she’d kissed Tom, how he’d run to y/n. Leaving Cherry, confused and heartbroken and not feeling enough, because though she’d given Tom everything, she still was not… enough.

It had been a rough night. To everyone, really. The moment y/n had left the club, it had seemed things had turned out to be worse than imagined.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” and that sort of questions had rained over Cherry. “Tom’s y/n’s boyfriend!”

“He is dating your cousin!”

“You’re a slut!”

Was she?

Maybe she was.

And she had reached for Tom, and she’d found him, right outside the bar, with a hand on his waist, and the other one pinching the bridge of his nose. His eyes, tired, pale and sad.

“Tom-?” She’d said, with fear.

Tom had flinched hearing her voice.

Tom knew he was to blame for a lot of things.

But not this one. Not this particular one.

Sure, he had been angry at the statement Timothée had made but he hadn’t really known anything. As far as he could recall the events that had gone through quickly, he didn’t even remember when Cherry had approached him, honestly he was too drunk and too busy staring at y/n.

Cherry had said something to him, she wanted to talk. She said she really wanted to talk. He didn’t.

“Tom?” She’d asked, again.

“What?” He had snapped. “Can’t you--Can’t--Why did you do this?” He sounded desperate, angry, hurt, enraged.

“I… didn’t know-”

“You didn’t know?” He asked. “You didn’t know that I’m dating-Or was dating or whatever… you didn’t know that your cousin--- you didn’t know she’s the love of my life?”

“I didn’t,” she snapped.

James had walked over. “You knew.”

“I didn’t,” Cherry said, or she’d chosen not to acknowledge she did know. When you’re in love you can become the most stupid, selfish and stubborn you can be.

“Still why-would you do this?” Tom asked. “Fuck now-Now she’ll think-Fuck, I don’t even know what she thinks.”

Cherry watched him. She had fucked up, and judging by how everyone was coming out just to yell at her, and Tom.

Cherry had been drunk, honestly. Everyone had been, and maybe that had been the only courage she had needed. She’d seen Timothée approaching Tom, they were yelling at each other, Tim had pushed Tom, but Tom had easily pushed him off, harder. Yelling, cursing. James trying to separate them, were they fighting? Cherry couldn’t figure out whose fist had gone to whose face. Emma still asking why she’d done it. Sam asked about it.

Cherry was feeling sick, and she felt like she was about to vomit. Being asked about it, over and over and over. Why she’d done it, why had she been such a bad cousin, a slut, or whatever they were saying. How Emma kept yelling at her.

No, she wasn’t going to vomit, but Cherry wished that what had come out of her mouth had been that instead. “Because I love him!” Cherry had said.

And suddenly the chaos ceased. And then, Cherry knew, the blame was on Tom now. No one dares to question a woman in love. Because of course, if she was in love with him, it had been something Tom had done.

Tom hadn’t answered. He only looked at her as if asking her how she dared to be in love with him, as if he didn’t believe her. He had only cursed to himself, he was defeated.

He didn’t care for her, not right now. But he did feel guilty. Because Tom had been the one to listen to her heartache.

Cherry and Tom were not so different, either. How they both feared they were not right for the person you could love.

It’s stupid, to think that. But Tom didn’t know how to apologize to her, but honestly, he thought Cherry would get it. He hoped she did.

He had told her, how he had had his heart broken by someone who knew how to hurt him on his open wounds , and yet she hadn’t used the one weapon to create a new one.

Why hadnt Cherry connected the dots? Was it not too obvious that Tom’s heart belonged to y/n? Was it not expressed enough? Did his eyes stutter when seeing y/n?

Tom had only pushed Tim before getting into a car, James had gone with him.

“Are you going to kill me?” Tom had snapped.

“No,” James said. “I saw what happened.”

Tom only clenched his jaw, he was stressed, angry. “I didn’t—I swear I— I wasn’t—“

“I know.”

“And now she left—“

James nodded. “With Harry.”

Tom thought he had already erased his fears with Harry. There was that thought in his head, quietly still roaming around, loud enough but tender to be just a faint sound. Could y/n catch feelings for Harry? Because when one is vulnerable, the head can easily be molded, and shaped. He’d learned that with Cherry, he knew that’s why y/n fell in love with Tim and there was that possibility. What if this was just the only straw y/n needed?

And why was he even thinking about that? He’d broken her heart and there was no possible way of solving this, this had been the worst outcome from all the possible scenarios that could’ve gone down, this had been the one horrible ending to y/n’s birthday.

“Before you freak out,” James interrupted Tom’s thoughts as soon as they’d arrived to the flower shop, where Tom thought y/n would be. “It’s the best thing that could’ve happened to you.”

“She’s not here, fuck it,” Tom said, stressed out. Had she gone home? He ordered another car.

“Her leaving with Harry,” James said. “He’s the only one she opens up to.”

Tom sighed. “I don’t know,” he said, staring at his phone.

“Harry will be able to calm her, they are best friends and they haven’t-talked in a while,” James said.

“They have, they’ve texted,” Tom snapped, knowing damn well his brother had been in touch.

“They’re not going to fall in love,” James said.

Tom gulped down, “How do you know that? What if-what if she’s supposed-I-”

“Stop fucking sabotaging yourself.”

“I-”

“She loves you,” James said. “That’s the least fucking thing you should be worrying about, you broke her heart, she just bloody saw you kissing another woman who happens to be our own cousin, you realize that, right?”

“Yeah-yeah-But I didn’t-”

“I know, Tom, but she knows the background, it wasn’t the kiss, it’s what the kiss meant, y/n had been avoiding this long enough and the glass just broke down, alright?”

Tom only cracked his fingers, one by one, nervously listening to him. “I fucked up.”

“Yeah, you did, so let’s-”

“Should I-call her?”

“That’s up to you,” James said. “Why are we even here?”

“I thought she’d be here,” Tom admitted. “The flowers calm her down,” he said. “I-I dunno, I-- she wouldn’t go back home-I mean to her place, because- or would she? If she did then--”

“No, because then she’d face Timothée and I’m sure Harry wouldn’t let her,” James said.

“And she wouldn’t go to my place-” Tom was shaking, but it wasn’t cold, yet he was freezing.

“You can ask Harry,” James suggested.

Tom knew, in his heart, that he shouldn’t call, as James had said, Y/N could only completely open with Harry, he knew that, when it came to Harry, y/n didn’t have any second guessing or she didn’t stop and think, she just blurted everything out, and maybe that’s what she needed, to let it out, calm down.

Besides, he knew that she wouldn’t answer if he dared to call.

James didn’t know what to tell him either, it’s not that he was on Tom’s side. James was always team y/n, but James was so bloody empathetic to Tom, they were best friends and honestly, he knew Tom didn’t mean any wrong. Besides, James had learned from Tom that he was not so bad for y/n, so similar in some ways, different enough to always have an argument but realize that they were both so incredibly similar that it was what bothered them when children, ‘how dare my enemy agree with me’, and Tom had a weak heart, not like y/n’s who could have multiple rocks thrown at her heart and she’d be fine, but Tom’s heart would break so easily, James also remembered Tom had said, a while ago, when younger, to him:“Y/N looks like the type of girl you never forget, you can’t get over her, never move on. Like that one heartbreak time can’t heal.”

How many years had gone by since y/n had broken Tom’s heart and he probably hadn’t healed?

And James had seen Tom, how incredibly anxious and worried he was about y/n’s birthday being perfect, and how he had, against his will, invited Timmy, because he knew that not inviting him would make y/n mad. And how he’d chosen every little aspect thinking of her.

James had underestimated Tom, and y/n. Y/N did seem to let go so easily when she was around Tom, probably because they’d seen each other’s worst and now they wanted to be the best versions of themselves.

James had seen that.

But Tom was so, so bloody scared of screwing up, and he kept being haunted by his actions. Tom was so sure he’d fuck up, but not this way. Not in a way that was, though partly, not entirely his fault.

“Or—what if you call her?” Said Tom, knowing she might answer him instead. With a sort of plan to take away the phone and try and talk to her with hopes of not being hung up.

James did, and y/n didn’t answer.

Tom did ask Harry, only to know if she was with him, and if they were safe. That’s all he needed to know for now.

He finally decided to go home, knowing that calling her was a big risk and that she wouldn’t answer and if she did what would he say?

James had asked Clark and Sam to find elsewhere to stay. James was anxious that Clark would get scared and run away from the mess his family and friends were.

James had tried to reach for y/n. But then he realized that a friend needed him that night.

“What am I supposed to say now?”

“That you’re sorry for starters, tell her the truth?” James suggested matter-of-factly.

“She’s going to think that I had feelings for Cherry,” Tom said.

“And she did have feelings for you,” James stated.

Tom scrunched his nose. “I didn’t know that, but is that-?”

“Your fault?” James shrugged. “Dunno. Depends.”

“I didn’t do anything thinking she’d fall in love,” he admitted. “I-I-I thought it was clear it was--She even said it herself,” Tom said. “This is a rebound, yes, not my proudest moment and I regret doing that but-”

James shrugged. “Honestly, Tom, you have to tell her the truth, that’s it.”

Tom sighed, eyes closed as he shook his head. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen-”

James only watched him.

“I’m-” Tom took a deep breath. “I… And here goes, I hurt her again, I’m just-How can I be so stupid to keep hurting her, how did I let this happen? I… can’t be what she wrote there, I was supposed to change or give some backstory or try and mend it. It’s like- We are not going to make it. And now I hurt wounds that hadn’t been healed, I don’t know what I’m saying, it’s like the more I’m talking the more I try to mend it the less I understand the more I hurt her.”

James kept quiet, knowing Tom needed to talk.

“How can I hurt her so much when I love her? And yet more plan wrecked and she’s going to tell me she wants me out of her life and I don’t know what’s different from last time?”

“That you want to solve it.”

“I always wanted to, yet I ended up hurting her again.”

Tom was in misery, all night, trying to find the right words he’d say. Guilt was killing him, and he saw something very familiar, he saw how Tom and y/n weren’t that James watched Tom, and he saw someone who really was trying. James wanted to call y/n, and he wanted to know how she was doing, but he knew that he’d get no answer from her. How was she doing?

Probably not better than Tom, who at some point had left James alone, to only remain quiet in his room. James was sure Tom was crying but he knew he didn’t want to be seen crying.

It was a long story, between Tom and y/n, and though James didn’t understand it, he couldn’t stop himself from trying to figure it out. What happened with them that they were so drawn to each other? Did the happiness really outshine the bad moments enough to forget it? Why did they love each other so much? Because James knew why he loved Clark, but Tom and y/n? Who were they when nobody was watching them.

Tom was never one to shut everyone out, Tom was never quiet so who was this Tom, thinking to himself, quietly, sadly. He’d never seen him like this.

James thought Tom was preparing for a heartbreak, one he would be guilted for. James also wanted to suggest he call her, but he didn’t know what was right with y/n. He felt guilty for not calling his sister, and he only texted Harry, who told her she was as fine as she could be.

The next morning, Tom had woken up-or maybe he was still awake from the night before, he probably hadn’t slept. James had heard him talk to Harry.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll take a shower and I’ll go talk to her.”

Then Tom had called Sam, who wasn’t happy with any situation.

James had called Clark.

“I’m sorry you were in this mess,” he said.

Clarke sighed. “It’s alright, I mean--”

“How bad was it after I left?”

“Let’s say there was a--plot twist,” Clark said.

“Plot twist?”

“You’ll have to deal with later, but--”

Someone was knocking on the door.

“I’m sorry-- someone is here,” James said.

And there, he saw y/n, the most broken he’d ever seen her. He had expected her to cry and sink to the floor immediately. She didn’t.

And she had yelled and she was angry, desperate. He’d never seen her so decided before. Without any hesitation she rushed past James. The woman had enough anger and decision, so James feared she’d kill Tom.

“I’ve seen his fucking dick James, I don’t bloody care!” Y/N had burst into the bathroom, only to find a lonely and broke Tom that was trying to soothe his mind under the hot water, James had tried to stop her but she’d slammed the door shut.

“Y/N!” Tom could only say with surprise.

“What is wrong with you?” She asked, with anger as Tom turned the shower off and quickly reached for his towel. “No, seriously, what is wrong with you? And you didn’t call!” She yelled once again.

Tom could see how she was wearing the dress from last night, her makeup was very messy, and so was her hair, the princess that once stood on a dance floor was a broken girl with a bouquet of yellow flowers

“Y/N I’m—“He tried to speak as he walked out of the shower, covering himself with the towel, water still streaming down his body.

“You slept with her, Tom!” She yelled. “And here are your bloody yellow flowers!” She’d thrown them at him, sloppily. “And why—What are you going to do? Was it your plan again? Is this a prank? Like last time? Is that what you’re going to say that I’m not your type and that you’d never dare someone like me and that this was all a prank and I should’ve seen it coming?” Her voice was loud but sounded broken, trying so hard not to break.”Why—why didn’t you call?” She spoke quickly and loud.

“No, no, y/n, please calm down I didn’t mean for this to happen!” Tom said. This wasn’t how it wasn’t supposed to go. But honestly, Tom didn’t know it actually was supposed to go.

“Oh, that fixes everything!” She snapped.

“No, I-” Tom closed his eyes. “No, no, I’m sorry.”

“If you are—Please tell me it was not a prank please—and you didn’t—“She wasn’t speaking coherently. She couldn’t speak, for that matter, he could see her struggle as she was breaking down, trying to fight the tears from falling down. “Please, please tell me it wasn’t all a prank like you did after that club night-”

“No, y/n, y/n,” and he would have to follow James’ advice to remain calm, he approached her and gently took her hands. “No, I’m sorry—“

“Tell me—“

“It’s not a prank,” he said. “I love you, it’s not a prank this is not Rome.”

That’s what she needed to listen to.

She was still angry, but she leaned against the bathroom wall, defeated. She didn’t look at him. She caught her breath, slowly, looking up at the ceiling,

“Please, y/n, look at me, it was not a prank, I love you, it was a mistake, very—stupid mistake.”

“You kissed her.”

“I—didn’t,” Tom said. “Please, look at me.”

She did. Slowly looked up to see him, her eyes were surrounded by bags and they were puffy and red. She’d been crying all night.

“I’m sorry,” and he meant it.

She looked away, she seemed furious.

“Talk to me, please-”

.“You kissed—“

“I didn’t kiss her—She kissed me. I know, it doesn’t-But, please look at me, y/n, I’m—there’s a lot to talk but I didn’t kiss her. Please—look at me.”

She looked again “I’m looking at you but I can’t see you—“she sounded tired, but not from her lack of sleep, tired from him. “Why didn’t—why didn’t you call?” She repeated, she wasn’t stopping the tears now.

Tom felt so heartbroken only from watching her.“Would you’ve answered?” He asked as he tried, slowly to clean up her tears.

“You didn’t call,” she stated, voice breaking.

Tom had made a mistake by not calling, he knew that now.

“I know, I regret it now,” he admitted. “I—just didn’t know what I was supposed to say.”

“That you’re—“

“I am sorry, I know, you don’t believe how much I regret everything but you have to know that I didn’t kiss her last night, but I know being sorry isn’t enough.”

She seemed as if she had a million things to tell him but couldn’t come around to say them, the words shaking and fading as soon as she opened her mouth. She crossed her arms and looked away. “Please tell me she’s not here—” she spoke as if her words were stabbing her, hurting her. “I know you wouldn’t be stupid enough to have her here, but please tell me she isn’t.”

“What? Why would she?”

She glared, “dunno,she’s not at her mother’s.”

“You thought she’d be here?” Tom asked.

Y/n didn’t know how to answer. “I knew she wasn’t but had to make sure.”

She knew, at least. Tom thought.

“I’m sorry,” Tom said.

She didn’t say anything, but finally let the quiet tears slowly stream down her face, Tom couldn’t look her in the eye, not with this guilt.

He took a deep breath. “Look I need—I need to get dressed alright? I was taking a shower and I was going to look for you. Harry told me you’d be at the hotel.”

She looked away. “Yeah I’m not anymore I came here.”

“Yeah. I can see that.”

She only looked up at him.

“Why did you come?” He asked, only then noticing she was still wearing the necklace he’d given her.

“Because I—I don’t know—Because you didn’t call and I-”

“I’m sorry,” he said, and took a deep breath.

She only tried to avoid his gaze.

“I’m going to get dressed,” he said, calmly. “Uh-do you—want to take a shower too? Borrow some clothes? Or do you want to talk right now?”

“No—I guess—I need a shower.”

Soon enough she was in the shower and Tom was dressed, he bumped into James as he walked out of his room.

“She’s going to breakup with me,” Tom said. Because he knew she would, honestly he didn’t expect any less. He deserved that… But did he?

“I thought she was going to murder you,” James admitted, but judiging by Tom’s look, he regretted it right away. “Bad time to joke—” He cleared his throat. “Look, she came here okay? Knowing y/n, it’s a first, she is never the first to ask for something face to face, she usually writes a letter and—”

Tom sighed. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

“I’ll go out with Clark and Sam all day, I—look, you fucked up before but I know this—”

Tom squinted. “Why did she have to kiss me? Why did this all have to blow up before we could even talk-”

“Look I don’t know, I—no, I do know why she kissed you,” James stated. “And you know it too and you have to tell that to y/n.”

“How am I supposed to tell her that she is in love with me? She’ll freak out and say I’m in love with her.”

“Probably,” James agreed. “But you have to remain calm, even when she yells, listen to her she’s in her right.”

“Yeah.”

“And just to calm you down, she came here to you, not to Tim alright? That’s an advantage,” James reminded him.

Tom hadn’t thought about Tim, and that thought hadn’t gone to his head. But now, it would linger. Not that it mattered but-”How do I know he hasn’t called her?” Tom asked.

“Because she went to Harry and your brother wouldn’t let her do that not because of you but because it would’ve been stupid,” James stated.

“What do I say?”

“The truth, for starters and don’t—Dont bring the Tim thing up,” James said.

“Yeah, I know.”

James left, knowing a storm would be coming to that place.

Tom didn’t know what to do, or wait, how had they postponed the fight like this, not only today but since he��d arrived. How and why had she avoided it? And why hadn’t he told her? He should’ve.

She had to make sure that Cherry wasn’t there, she’d said it: I don’t think she is. Did she trust him? He hoped she did.

Tom wished for patience, how hard he had tried not to explode and burst back the Tim thing. It seemed like y/n had tried hard not to explode.

Though this was hard, Tom knew in his heart that this was both of them either trying to work it our or finally giving up completely. The latter option being so terrifying. Lost in his thoughts. But he knew that the stray and venomous thoughts were not going to get him anywhere, maybe a whirlwind.

Eventually, y/n had walked out, dressed with his clothes, a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, as she dried her hair with the towel. She seemed so calm. Terrifyingly calm.

“Thanks for--For the clothes,” were the only words she’d said.

Tom only watched her. “I’m sorry.”

“I know… I knew.” She knew? “I’m sorry I came in yelling like a crazy person,” she apologized.

“You’re in all your right,” he nodded.

“No, I’m not,” she sighed before walking over to sit beside,he only watched her.

“You knew,” Tom said. Knowing what her words from before meant.

“Yeah,” she sighed.

“Who--How did you--?”

She bit her lip, and shrugged. “I know you,” she admitted. “And she posted a picture, she--Posted several pictures of you guys together.”

“But you assumed-”

“No, I saw that one picture with you kissing her cheek, and I knew,” she gulped.

“How?”

“The way you looked at her?” Y/N’s voice was shattering, her eyes had began to water down. “I-”

“I don’t-”

“You looked at her the same way you looked at me, and-” She was tearing down, trying to avoid and ignore she was.

“I didn’t-”

“You did,” she gulped down.

He had, for that matter. But not for the reasons she thought.

“I slept with her,” he admitted. “But-”

“But?”

“But it didn’t mean anything.”

“She’s in love with you,” y/n stated. How did she know? How in this world? “It means something.”

“How-?”

She shrugged. “I happen to be an expert on knowing how it feels to love you and not being reciprocated.”

Tom took a deep breath.

“You’re not easy to love,” y/n said, standing up. “Contrary to popular belief and how easy it seems I do it, you’re not easy to love, you’re so…”She couldn’t finish her sentence. “So I could see her, last night, she looked like such a damn fool, and she-She’s an idiot, for falling for you, no one in their right mind would fall for you, guess it’s a family thing,” she poisoned, as she sat back on the bed, near the headstand, crossing her arms. “But--”

“I don’t have any feelings for her,” Tom said, still at the edge, not facing her.

“Yeah, I know, but it still is my cousin you decided to sleep with,” y/n said with venom. “You fucking slept with her and then you kiss her on my birthday right fucking in front of me.”

“She kissed me.”

“And then you let me go, you didn’t even explain anything you didn’t try to stop me, you just stood there…. and then you didn’t call and I can’t believe I let you break my heart again I can’t--” She was running out of breath, though he could hear her anger, her voice was calm. That was scared. “I don’t want to beg for your love, Tom, I don’t want to be broken again and I don’t want to say goodbye again.”

“I don’t want to-either.”

She glared at him. “How was it?”

“What?” Tom turned to see her.

“Was she good?”

Tom blinked. “I— don’t—understand.”

“Answer me, good? How many times did you-?”

“Just once,” Tom answered. He tried to crawl to her but she stood up, arms crossed.

“And how was it?” She asked with poison, her words stabbing Tom.

He didn’t know how he was supposed to answer. “I don’t even know I was thinking about you the whole time.”

“Oh,” she scoffed. “How refreshing, you were thinking of me while making love to my cousin,” she snaked.

“It was a mistake,” he said. “I didn’t-”

“Ah, yeah, you tripped and your dick fell into her,” she snapped. “A mistake.”

Tom heard it, he closed his eyes. “It didn’t mean anything.”

“Sex has to mean something,” she said.

“No it doesn’t,” Tom snapped.

“It does.”

“Fine if it does it means I broke her heart because I did the one thing she hates about people,” Tom snapped. “I used her to try to get you out of my mind and it only-

She clicked her tongue. “Made it worse, buddy.”

He plopped on the bed stressed. “Can we please talk about this?”

“Well, go on, tell me, everything,” she pleaded, arms crossed.

“What?”

“What happened with her.”

“You want to know what happened with Cherry? Tom asked.

She nodded. “Don’t spare any detail. You said you wanted to talk.”

What would he tell her? The truth.

And so he did. So he told her, from the very first moment he met Cherry, how clueless she was. And how heartbroken he was but how Cherry, being clueless was the only damn thing he needed. Someone who didn’t judge him, someone who didn’t know any of the drama. Not about the script. Not about y/n and Tom. How Tom could take a breath, and how he found a friend that would ease his mind. How he had searched for y/n in every face but failed to do so. A distraction he needed, and that it had presented itself. How Cherry had been a friend, a friend that didn’t feel like anything more. How Tom did have some sort of feelings. Not love, but he cared for her.

How Cherry did flirt. How he didn’t. At first.

Y/N didn't show any reaction, still quiet. No yelling, no eyebrows furrowed, just listening. Cold staring.

But Tom continued, connecting the stories he’d already told her about how he missed her, and how much he wanted to call and how he always tried to not think about her. How he had been heartbroken, and how her most than anyone should understand how broken hearts leads us to do something stupid. But how it was because he missed her, how he’d gotten used to her lips, and how he missed waking up beside her. To the night he decided to kiss her.

“Why did you kiss her?” She finally interrupted. “The first time.”

“I thought— I—I would— I don’t know what I thought, I… No, I do know, I do know why I kissed her,” he sighed. “This is going to sound so stupid.”

“Try me.”

“I—well—It might make you feel worse.”

She took a deep breath. “Go on.”

“I—you left, y/n, to get over me,” he explained. “You—“

“What?”

“I—“ he looked over in his drawers. “You give me this letter and then you left— you said—“

“Yes I know, I meant every single word there—“

“And I was hurt okay? You left and you were living with Tim.”

“Is that why—?”

“No,” he said, “it wasnt—I just missed you so much—I felt—how you’re feeling right now.”

She finally snapped out of her calmness. “How I am—no, no, you don’t understand what I’m feeling,” she growled. “Not even half of it, you broke my heart and I—I” she stood up and walked around the room. “And this was the first time I was hoping—I thought you wouldn’t and then you just—I didn’t come here to get over you, it was never like that, I gave myself time to heal so I could love you without any hard feelings and without any—So I could love you completely but then—I knew it just from that one picture I knew you had slept with her, because the eyes—-They way you were fucking looking at her.”

“I know, It’s the way I look at you alright?”

“I know, I fucking know, don’t you think I was heartbroken?” She asked.

“I thought that if I looked at her that way eventually I would move one—“

She took a deep breath before asking, “and why did you want to move on?”

Because he thought she would, for starters. But he wouldn’t bring Tim up. No, he couldn’t

“I didn’t—I—I didn’t—I never felt anything, I—searched for you?” He continued.

She scoffed. “With my cousin Tom? Was that the most familiar thing?”

Yeah, he heard it. It was so stupid.

He sighed. “I’m not proud of it.”

“Well I hope you aren’t—You don’t get it, I was ready to—call you that day, the day I found out,” she gulped and sat back down, far from him not facing him, “I was doing better, and I wanted to call you so we could—try again and I remember going back to social media and I was—going to call you alright? See how you were doing,” she spoke quietly. “And I saw the picture and then I knew it—no one had to tell me, and then it was days and days going on and I tried to move on and the sky was just grey, no silver moon suns, I couldn’t sleep I couldn’t feel anything I just felt insignificant and like an idiot because—“

“I didn’t love her,” Tom said.

“It’s not only that Tom, whatever you did, whatever you said...whatever you—you made her fall for you,” y/n said. “Because you looked at her—You looked at her like you—looked at me and I—“

“No, I didn’t mean it,” Tom said before rushing over to her side, trying to reach for her hand. She snapped it away.

“Oh, and that fixes everything,” she rolled her eyes. “All good now, you slept with her but you didn’t mean it!” She stood up.

“I slept with her because I couldn’t call you,” he explained.

“You couldn’t hold your dick for five seconds?” She hissed.

“You—look I’m not trying to—You also slept with Tim,” he stated. Finally throwing the bomb at her.knowing he shouldn’t have but he couldn’t hold it anymore. She blinked, watching him. “No one told me,” Tom answered the question he knew was going through her mind. “No one had to, at first. I assumed you had, and then he confirmed it. But did you?”

“I did,” she said. Now the blame was not entirely on Tom. But he hadn’t brought it up because of that.

“I’m not trying to blame you for it,” Tom said. “This is not a war, y/n, I’m just—I am pretty sure the reason you slept with him isn’t as far as the reason as to why I slept with Cherry.”

She remained quiet.

“I slept with Cherry because I was lonely and I couldn’t find you, I thought that by pretending it was you, it would eventually be you but I was wrong because she’s not near you, and it’s not in her. It’s on me because I am deeply in love with you,” he explained. “My heart felt extremely lonely, and I thought that by pretending to love someone only for one night it would make it feel less pain, I was wrong, it hurt even more.”

“He told you,” she said.

“Last night yeah, but but but—I didn’t-“

She shut her eyes closed. “Is that why you—fucking kissed her?“

“I didn’t kiss her, she kissed me,” Tom reminded her. “This is not a war, y/n.”

“You keep saying she’s the one to kiss you, but I remember clearly that I told you a kiss is always asked, at least with a glance,” she recalled.

“I didn’t want to kiss her, and I’m sure you saw me push her off.”

Y/N didn’t say anything. She only paced around the room again, her hands crossed above her chest, barefoot and silent trails. Tom watched her, wanting to know what the hell was going through her mind. She always seemed to always have a thought, usually they were dreams untold and secrets waiting to be whispered. Not now. He knew her mind was slowly deciding whether or not to destroy each other.

Tom hoped they both had the same mentality. This is not a war, and it seemed to be like that.

“You’re saying,” she started. “That you didn’t want to kiss her even after Tim told you we slept together.”

“Yes.”

“You’re saying you didn’t do it to get back at me.”

“I didn’t do it because—“

“Because you felt guilty,” she ended his sentence but not with what he wanted to say.

“No, because I don’t want this to be another battle in a war where neither of us wants to win, because we both know it shouldn’t be a war.”

She stared at him, she wanted to believe him.

“I did sleep with him,” she stated. “Days after I knew you’d slept with Cherry,” she said.

Tom felt a punch right into his throat, knowing he would be unable to word out his pain.

“And I—he had been flirting, we both know he’s in love with me,” she sat beside Tom. “He usually knows how to mend my heart when it’s broken, and I am well aware of that, and—That’s what I needed, someone who would love me, because I felt like shit and he made me feel loved,” she gulped. “That’s the difference, you searched for someone you could love and I searched for someone who could love me.”

Neither of them said anything. Both of them assimilating, being careful enough of their words.

“It’s only fair to ask this question,” Tom said after a while.

Y/N only glanced.

“Was he good?” Tom questioned with poison, getting an eye roll from y/n.

“You see, the reason I asked that question wasn’t the same reason as why you’re asking it,” she pointed out.

He shrugged. “What was your reason exactly?”

“I don’t want this to be a fight between us,” she continued.

“What is this, then?”

“It’s us against the problem, not you against me, Thomas,” she fumed.

He nodded, “are we finally on that page, then?”

Y/N didn’t know how to answer. She didn’t know how to handle him, not that he had to be handled but the situation was tarnishing her heart. She had, however, learned well enough that this wasn’t supposed to be them fighting and fighting. She’d thought about it, and though she was enraged, she wanted to solve it. It wasn’t a matter of what, it was a matter of how. The incomprehensible thoughts in her head were roaring too loud for her taste, but her heart, though hurt, wanted to try to get through with this.

He had remained calm, too, so it didn’t matter for her.

“Well, I am,” she said. “Or-I don’t, I just don’t know-”

He watched her. “What do you want?”

“It’s not simple, Tom, I’m heartbroken but I understand it but then again, of all people it was my cousin, and I don’t-I just showed that I am still not over the whole prank thing.”

Tom looked away.

“And I don’t want to go over that, you know? We’ve grown, we’ve-Yes, we’ve broken each other’s hearts, yes, we were idiots, we know that, but we also had feelings for each other--You were my first crush, first kiss, first love, first broken heart, and I don’t know, my reason tells me to let go, but-”

“But your heart?”

“My heart doesn’t know, part of it wants to leave and just give up on everything because god knows I can’t have another heartbreak and the other half--very stupid half believes in us.”

“I believe in us.”

“I’m not sure I do, look at us,” she sighed. “And I’m angry and I’m-”

“May I just- we were not together while-”

“Don’t bring that up,” she quickly interrupted. “No, we weren’t together but--It’s--It’s my cousin! You know what, I’m leaving I can’t-” She headed to the door, but Tom quickly followed after.

“No, no, let’s talk about this, please,” he said, taking her hands trying to stop her.

She stopped and turn around. “What can we even talk about this, Tom? We slept with other people who-”

“We weren’t together,” he said. “You told me to move on-”

“I didn’t, Tom!” She retorted. “I didn’t, you were the one to say you wanted to see other people, you were the one to suggest moving on.”

“You left.”

“I didn’t leave to get away from you,” she said. “You know that, I knew I had to be away, from you, from Harry- and you-”

“You left with Tim.”

“No, I didn’t, besides, I didn’t--”

“Cherry means nothing,” he said.

“She meant enough to jeopardize us,” she stated.

He sighed. “I didn’t think there would be us again.”

Y/N stayed quiet. She knew what he meant. But somehow didn’t know if he meant it by then or if he meant it now. She was tired, though they hadn’t talked as much, it was… exhausting, draining, going over this yet again.

“I know—That’s why I had to go search for someone else’s love because I thought I didn’t have yours anymore,” she said.

“I-well,” she coughed. “I’m not-I don’t think you understand why I’m angry.”

“I think I do-”

“No, you don’t, it’s not-that it was her, though yes, she’s my cousin, you really… couldn’t have fucked up more when choosing a rebound,” she said. “It’s--the fact that you thought you could replace me, the fact that you wanted to move on so quickly and I’m not--It’s not the fact that I didn’t want to move on, it’s just that-- You thought she could be me, and--”

He shook his head. “I wasn’t trying to-”

“No, you were,” she said, her eyes were tearing down and though he was trying to stop himself from crying, he let some tears fall down too, quietly.

“I was an idiot,” he said. “But I didn’t think I’d be replacing you--Only a fool would think you’re replaceable.”

She took a deep breath, avoiding his gaze. “I think that’s what I’ve been--What I’ve always tried to tell you, with… Timothée,” she said, no nicknames needed to be used. “It’s… though I… It’s never been him,” she said.

“I never used him to replace you, though he was a good distraction, and I needed to… feel… Not replaceable.” She crossed her arms. “However, I’m still pissed off it was my cousin.”

“Had it been anyone else—?”

“Don’t go there,” she warned. “It would’ve been just as bad considering the situation. It makes it worse, yes, but you—Looked at her the way you looked at me,” she emphasized.

He sighed.

“Yeah, it’s not the same,” she pointed out. “Though I know that had I slept with anyone else you wouldn’t have cared as much.”

Tom clenched his jaw but nodded defeated. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Do you want me to explain—?”

“No, I don't need any details, I know enough,” he ranted. “However—I can see you didn’t go to him.”

“I didn’t.” Y/N didn’t want to go over the details.

“I—have to be honest, kinda got into a fight with him last night,” Tom confessed.

“I know, Emma told me, and she told me he was okay, that you only pushed him away,” she explained. “I didn’t ask any further but I didn’t ask you because I knew you’d be okay.”

Tom stayed quiet, not knowing how to proceed.

“Can we get out of this one?” He asked.

“Dunno,” she admitted. “ I just know I still love you with every piece of my heart.”

“I love you, too,” he admitted quietly.

“I need a break,” She stated. Without any other warning.

Tom didn’t like the idea, she could tell as he closed his eyes and took her hands. “No, no please, I--If we take another break then it’ll be definitive and-”

“No I meant—a break from fighting I just—I have a headache I can’t,” she pushed his hands away and walked back. “I just-” She walked past him and headed to the kitchen. She hadn’t lied, she did have a headache, probably from the slight hangover and the lack of sleep, and added the stress and her heartache. It wasn’t her best ime.

Tom only followed after her, quietly watching as she poured herself a glass of water. It felt quiet. It was but it felt even more quiet. Y/N went through all the scenarios not sure which was the worst. They all hurt, some more than others. She wished she could erase every thought in her head.

Tom opened the fridge, there was still cake that remained from two nights before, when they were still better. He took it out, and without thinking about it, he took out two plates, serving each a slice. She gave him a silent thanks, and then, they both remained on opposite sides of the kitchen.

Though y/n usually found his hoodies warm, her skin was freezing. There had never been that much space between them though they were only feet apart. Because, though it was even what they’d done, they both knew that there was not much to do. Y/N would love to snap her fingers, hide all her pain and kiss him. To assure him that she loved him as much, wondering if their broken pieces of love was enough.

“Where’s James?” Y/N asked, hating the sound of the cutlery hitting the plates.

Tom looked up, “He left, he’d spend the day with Clark and Sam.”

“So he’s on your side,” y/n pointed out. “Though there’s not really a side here.”

“He’s not on my side.”

She shrugged. “He said you had an awful night.”

“I did but, so did you.”

“Yeah.”

He watched her. “In any case my brother is on your side.”

She looked down at the cake. “He is.”

Tom let out a dry chuckle. “Hey, I thought there were no sides.”

“No, but he is on my side,” she said.

Tom only scoffed.

“I feel sorry for him actually, I think he was just leaving to go home to sleep and I made him stay up all night with me,” she admitted.

“Yeah but it’s you so he doesn’t mind,” Tom said.

She shrugged. “Emma kissed Josh,” she mentioned.

“She did?” Tom blinked. “Wow, that must have hurt him.”

Y/N only watched him with irony.

“I mean,” Tom closed his eyes.

“No, I know, but yeah, he was,” y/n commented. “I feel bad, I crushed his m&m’s.”

He chuckled. “What?”

“I-well, we had some m&m’s and I… crushed them,” she admitted with a tired, half smile.

“Why?”

“I was having a breakdown alright?” She chuckled. “And he went all ‘I wanted m&m’s”

Tom took a deep breath. “Should get him some.”

She gulped and saw Tom hadn’t eaten anything either, they were just pushing around the cake.

Tom watched her, too, still noticing how she hadn’t taken off the ballerina hanging from her neck, and maybe it was the only sign he needed, he left the plate on the kitchen island and walked over, standing right beside her, leaning against the counter. Their arms were against each other’s, and eventually her head fell against him. He didn’t hesitate before wrapping his arms around her, she gave in to his touch, slowly and then hugged him back. Snuggling to get some kind of warmth.

“You looked pretty last night,” he pointed out.

She crooked into his neck. “You mentioned it.”

Tom glanced down. “I—yeah, I did.”

Quiet again. He took a deep breath, and held her close again, placing a kiss on her forehead.

“Do you hate me?” He asked.

“No, that’s the weird thing,” she said, letting him go and taking her spot back beside him. “I can’t hate you.”

He grimaced.

“Being angry doesn’t make me love you any less,” she said. “Do you hate me?”

“No. I could never. I love you.”

She bit her lip. “Are we really--?”

He turned to her. “What?”

“Or are we just being stubborn enough to not want to give up?” She asked. “I… don’t know.”

“I don’t want to lose you and the thought of it scares me enough,” he gulped. “And I… Before I run out of time to say the things I want to, I just need you to know that I’d choose you, though there are no other options, it all comes back to you.”

Her eyes brightened up, just slightly. “It’s hard, Tom, I don’t know, but I don’t want to give up, but-”

“I know,” Tom looked at her.

It was so unbelievably hard. What if this was really their last time, that’s what they were both thinking but neither had the courage to ask it out loud. Love is so cruel.

“Yet after everything, I’ve never loved anyone like I’ve loved you,” y/n said, mostly to herself. “And I am sorry I left in the first place.”

“No, you had to, we had to…” He sighed. “We both made questionable things.”

She didn’t want to break up with him. She didn’t want her days to run out of breath again, to see the streets full of garbage and she didn’t want to water any flowers that he hadn’t given her. And she wondered if they’d dare to call it off yet again life would find a way to bring them back together.

“I don’t want to go back to… that feeling, when we were apart,” she finally said it out loud. She wouldn’t regret saying it, right? “Nightless and sunless days, and how time never stopped or it never kept going, it was just eternal… numbness.”

Tom blinked, watching her.

“But I also,” she sighed. “I don’t want this pain.”

“Were you expecting it?”

“What?”

“The heartbreak?”

“I wasn’t, maybe that’s why it hit that hard… I guess I… Maybe I did, I just postponed it, thought that if I ignored it for long enough it would disappear.”

“What will happen, then?”

“I don’t know, these are relentless times, for now, try and haunt for reasons to make me believe I am still alive,” she gulped. “It sounds so dramatic but last night I just…” She felt that pain across her chest again. “I thought I had stopped breathing I…And it wasn’t the kiss really.”

“What was it?”

“The fact I remembered you had slept with her,” she said. “And that picture—“

He bit his lip, “I didn’t… You are the love of my life.”

She chuckled softly to herself. “See? People only say that when they’re apologizing.”

He sighed. “But-”

“But you are mine, too,” she admitted. “Better or for worse.”

She didn’t know where he had gotten the courage to do it, but he had finally leaned over to kiss her. And it wasn’t idyllic, it wasn’t a happy kiss, but it was the reminder they needed, as if the kiss was only to remind why it was worth trying again. Y/N knew she was being an idiot, honestly.

But only another fool would stop kissing him, and so she didn’t stop, because she knew this could be the last time. Tom probably thought so, too. Knowing about a last kiss can make it last longer and can make them both never letting go. Y/N just needed one last reminder than though her heart was aching and it had finally been ripped apart, she still had to believe that he loved her. Because he’d said it, right? And he was proving it to her with each kiss, caressing her cheeks, cupping her face, so delicately and so passionately.

He didn’t want to let go, either. His hands went to her waist, pulling her as close as he could. Their lips were going so, very slowly. He pulled away once, only for her to keep kissing his chin, cheeks and finally his lips, so slowly, her arms around his neck. Neither of them were desperate, each stroke was measured, taking their time. As if they were dawdling and postponing the thoughts in their minds. Soothing their most probable goodbye.

Y/N kissed him as if they were going to be infinite. As if no matter what would happen, they’d always be there. The kissing started to seem careless at some point, as if it didn’t matter how they were kissing anymore, it just mattered to have their lips connected, getting sloppier as his hands travelled under her-his sweatshirt to touch her skin, so cold. His hands landed on her waist.

“You’re cold,” he pointed out in between kisses.

She only pulled away, as if only then she realized what they were doing. He didn’t stop, his lips kept trailing its way all over her face, small, slow and soft kisses sweet enough for her to close her eyes. Gentle pecks, trying to gently cover each and every spot on her face. Y/n knew Tom had never been good with his words, he was more of actions, always being impulsive, and this showed it, his tender lips against her skin was his way of apologizing, of making her feel loved.

However she had to back away. She had to be rational, she couldn’t let him just kiss her and forget about everything.

She did back away. Because her mind couldn’t stop. It kept going back to him. To Cherry. And even to Tim. The latter being as if asking why she had done it herself.

And she only tried to untangle herself from his grasp, he didn’t force it. He understood as she slowly walked her way back to his room. A place where she felt safer than in the kitchen. Not sure why.

He stopped her mid-halfway, his chocolate eyes begging her again, pleading for an apology. Y/n couldn’t help it, his eyes were her biggest addiction. And so she gave in to him again, because though she loved using words and she knew it was her most powerful weapon, this was no battle, and so she’d kiss him to speak her truth.

He slowly pressed her against the wall, his fingers traced her figure, sides, top and bottom, gently as if trying to memorize her shape, but as if his fingers already knew the path. Her breath halted as his lips brushed against her neck, soothing her cold body. He pressed his whole body against hers, and his hands found their way back inside her hoodie, fingers firmly pressing against her waist, threading lightly. She felt like they could be infinite if they tried to, if they wanted to. And just for that moment as his lips were finding their way back to hers, she forgot about her pain.

His lips were meant to be with hers. There was no other way to say it.

Somehow he managed to get her to his room, she was uncertain if she should keep kissing him. But there's something about each kiss that made them both not want to stop. Y/N had closed the door, though, Y/N felt like this was the last time. Did he think it was too and was that why he was being so delicate?

Pining for each other as he gently laid her down, he looked at her the way someone looked at the sky at night, as if he had first seen the stars for the very first time and was wondered by her. They were sharing a secret, they both knew.

Desire was beyond his eyes as his hand travelled from her covered ankle, shriveling through her legs up all the way to her covered chest. She longed for his skin to be once against hers. But he was taking his time, trying to make sure she knew she was the only one he wanted to kiss. He then proceeded to take the same path with his lips as if he had meticulously painted it before. Placing soft pecks or running his lips against the covered skin. Y/N closed her eyes, as an inescapable soothing pleasure washed her, not lust, his gentle poke sprinkling her with delight.

He finally glanced up to her, his thumb gently rubbing circles on her cheek, his eyes linking with her, his eyelashes going up and down, pouring directly at her lips, her eyes.

“I love you,” he stated, not expecting an answer back, as if it was merely an observation he was making to himself. One of those thoughts that escapes the mouth and dares to be said out loud.

“I love you,” he said again, now less as an observation but as a reminder to him, as if he was scolding himself.

Her hands went to his face, brushing his cheeks. She wanted to say it back, too, but something stopped her.

But she was thinking about it, she knew that. She felt it.

But her heart didn’t want her to say it, as if saying it would be a sin. Why was she letting him kiss her? She could stop him.

She didn’t want to stop him, that is. But her mind was so loud she could barely focus, and she didn’t have to focus.

But then again, he was part of her own skin, her faith, her—everything. And though she knew this could be a mistake, it could be the last time and she wanted to make it last. Something to remember because they didn’t have anything to cling to.

She waited for him, like the moon waits for the night, as his thumb then caressed her lips, preparing them only to tamper them with his. It was no secret that each kiss he gave her was unique but he had kissed her like never before.

Though it was so familiar, the way she knew what he was going to do next as his hands went down to toy with the hem of her hoodie, shyly asking for permission just to go beneath it. But slowly he was pulling it up, with her help and then proceeded to take off his. Though slow they were both desperate to be against each other’s skin, the clothes burdened them and they both slowly decided to take them off, they looked better on the floor anyway.

Y/N didn’t feel cold anymore though she was bare, only with her underwear as Tom repeated what he’d done before, kissing his way from her thighs to her neck, burying himself there. She tried to turn him around so she could kiss him just as fine but he didn’t let her, his hand searched for hers as he linked them.

She finally managed to push and roll him, now it was she’d time to memorize his own body, her fingers tickled him as she sat on top of him to watch him, they gently brushed against his stomach, his chest, barely even touching, just a tender grasp. His hands landed on her waist as he watched her, her hands exploring his body, all the way to his arms, he only gulped watching her as she felt the bulge grow beneath her, she hummed a chuckled before bending down to get his lips back to hers, delayed movements as she grinded against him, his hands went down to cup her ass, helping her rock and he bucked his hips to her.

They had absolutely no hurry though their bodies were indicating the exact opposite, hiding their gentle moan against each kiss.

“I love you,” she finally had whispered to him, but it sounded more like a goodbye that Tom didn’t want to hear yet.

With his hands now going to her back, he turned her around, him on top as he reached to the nearest drawer.

The unspoken words they both hid were agonizing but they knew they had to be kept unspoken.

For now, at least.

As he opened the drawer y/n could see the inside of it. She caught a glimpse of the letter she’d given him. But he finally found the condom and wrapped it on the hard that his boxers had been no help on hiding.

Y/N only watched him position himself as he then looked up asking for a sort of permission, she only bit her lip as she tuck her hands behind her and finally took off her bra, he licked his lips and tooka deep breath, staring at the ballerina necklace in between each breast, he teased her with the tip and she arched her back.

She bit her bottom lip, he slowly inserted into her, she let out a gasp with fascination as he filled her up, her hands landed on his back bringing him to her, nails digging crescent moons on him, he closed his eyes, throwing his head back.

He draped her breasts with his hands before slowly rocking against her, their breaths fanning against the other, but it lingered and she wrapped her legs against him, toes curling with each very move as she bucked herself against him, not holding back any moan and now as he sloppily tried to kiss her, not getting it and just lazily pecking her chin, her neck, sucking gently. Hands gliding up and down. She managed to get a grip of him as she bit his lower lip, so intoxicated by each other it’s almost pathetic.

And their horrible thoughts had finally ceased—for a bit because they only needed each other, knowing that though what had happened had angered them, they belonged to each other, tangled into one, with sloppy kisses and messy movements, hearing their moaning as if they were a melody they could never get tired of. Soft grunts, struggling to keep any other kind of thought as they’re washed with pleasure.

Thrust after thrust, lackadaisical at points where they’re not even caring, finger pressed to each other, vibrating each time, impossible for y/n to keep still as he drove in each time deeper. Hands still gentle but he is burning intensely against her, her irregular movements against his hip drive her close to the edge.

He even had to clench to the headboard to get a steadier rhythm, but his other hand deliberately made sure that no part of her body remained untouched. The friction on each movement made y/n moan his name breathily.

Tom groaned at his name and went in deeper, saying her name, in a faint whisper, fearing he’d run out of chances to say it again, and then his tongue connected with her flesh.

“I can’t lose you,” he confessed breathily, tainted with love, finally saying what they’d both been thinking the whole time, but proud enough and—probably horny enough not to say it.

The only response she can give him is a truthful “I love you, so much.” Because there was nothing more to it. She wasn’t sure if they were going to lose each other. “I don’t want to lose you,” she sentenced. Because that was another fact.

Somehow that makes them go faster and more desperate, his hand stretching to go over where he needs him to be. Gasps, groans, grunts and moans combined with other words of praise to each other, senseless confessions of love that are enough to keep them going.

Y/N didn't even realize with what push she finally reached her high, but with pleasure he kept going as she had let out a bright moan that had perfectly spelled his name. He followed after not so long, crashing against her one last time before he had to stop and not twitch against her, not pulling out as he plopped above her. Chests shimmering with sweat as they’re synchronizing their breathing, halt panting as she finds a hand through his hair, curling up with sweat. He finally pulled out and plopped right beside her.

It gave her time to think then, right beside each other, quietly hearing each other breathing, covered in each other sweat. He pulled her close to him as her hand landed on his chest. She kept her lips pressed against him still, and his own lips were pecking her forehead.

Neither of them wanted to say anything because they both knew that talking would lead to somewhere where they didn’t want to go. Because talking had been all they've done before that and there had been no “I love you”s and there was no “I don’t want to lose you.” Talking meant they did want to lose each other and talking meant they still were angry.

But they had to. And y/n was there, confused as how easily she gave up to him, hours ago she was crying and yelling, and her heart still ached but she was still sure she couldn’t keep herself from him. Plus, there was the fact he was directing her script. The one film she had dreamed of and now was a nightmare. What was she supposed to do?

End the relationship?

Weren’t they supposed to be infinite?

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eerythingisshaka · 4 years ago

Text

Ficsmas Day #6 “Away in a Spooky Manger”

[Oscar “Spooky” Diaz x Reader]

Word Count: 1.3k

Spooky holds you up as you holler in pain making your way to his car.

“I can’t fucking believe this. I can’t fucking believe this shit! Did you get the bag?” you repeat over and over as the snow crunches under your half tied boots with each step. Your pajama pants are as good as tissue paper at insulating your legs from the cold but the rush is on to get you to the hospital.

“It’s ok baby, we don’t need it. The hospital has all we need. Come on, easy,” Spooky tries to keep you at ease as he helps lift you in the backseat of his car.

“He was supposed to be here on New Years, I’m so pissed.” Your anger quickly crumbles to tears as the gravity of the situation overwhelms you. You and Spooky just finished making some cookies and picked out your favorite Christmas movie to watch and stay up until midnight to welcome in Christmas together.

Spooky reaches for a seatbelt to put on you. “I know, it’s fine though. We’re gonna have our little one as a present, so that’s gonna be good!”

You smack away his hands. “I don’t need a damn belt. I need a tranquilizer, just fucking drive!”

Spooky closes your door and gets in the driver’s seat, peeling out as fast as he can down the road. As he drives, you continue to curse and moan under the pressure of your body attempting to expel the baby boy you spent the last 39 weeks growing in your belly. Pain radiates from your back to your pelvis as you sweat and squeeze the back of the seat behind Spooky’s head.

“How’re you doing?” he asks while looking back in the rearview.

“How do you think, Oscaaaar??” A contraction seizes you as you bellow in agony, beating his seat as he approaches a red light.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You ask, unzipping your jacket as your body heat fights with the heat circulating in the car.

Spooky points, “It’s a red light, I can’t get another ticket.”

“If you don’t get this car moving Oscar! What the hell is wrong with you, fuck a red light or a ticket!”

Spooky looks both ways before neglecting the laws of traffic, looking fully back at you with concern. “You gotta calm down. I’ll get us there, just breathe, remember?”

You give a laugh that is mired by your sounds of torture. “How about next time I just breathe on your dick instead of letting you all up in here to plant your big headed baby, how about that huh?”

Spooky grips the steering wheel tightly as he rips around a corner, sliding on the slushy streets, and sending you flying from one end of his backseat to another.

“DAMN! What was that for?!” you exclaim, sitting up.

Spooky looks back again. “Shit, you alright? Am I going too fast? I’m still getting used to riding in your area. Don’t know shit about snow.”

You breathe through your nose and out of your mouth. “I think you have to pull over.”

Spooky takes another turn, gentler this time. “We’re almost there, like 15 minutes.”

You shake your head. “No, no. I’m not gonna make it.”

The engine revs a little louder as he accelerates. “Fuck, just breathe baby. Think of anything but the baby right now. We’re so close to the hospital.”

Spooky looks in his rearview and sees you squirming around, grunting as you fiddle with something.

“What’s going on back there?” Spooky asks right before a pair of grey flannel pajama bottoms of his that you like go flying in the front passenger seat.

“I can’t make it Oscarrr!” you scream, laying flat across the back seat with your legs wide.

Spooky immediately pulls over to park, turning his whole body to see you fully ready to give birth. His eyes are horrified as he rubs his head, trying to think.

“Ok! Ok! Lemme call 911!” he reaches into his pants to pull out his phone, hitting the emergency button.

“Please please come back here with me! I need your help, I don’t wanna do this alone!” Tears well up in your eyes as you feel like you’re being ripped in half as your baby makes his way out of your cervix.

Spooky gets out and back in the backseat with you. He lifts you up against him, holding our head as he answers 911.

“Yeah we are on Jefferson and 38th, down by the office building. My girl’s in labor.” Spooky winces as you squeeze his hand, shaking your head back and forth through the pain.

“39 weeks….Contractions? Uh like 5 minutes apart….The baby’s not out yet, I don’t know…”

Spooky goes quiet a second listening to the 911 operator. “Shit! Ok, I’ll see.”

Spooky gets out of the car again, causing you to panic. “No no! Where are you going Oscar?” you hold your belly feeling the urge to push as he opens the other door that is in front of you, getting a clear view of burgeoning birth.

Spooky’s eyes are filled with fear and worry. “I see him. God, he’s coming out! He’s got so much hair.” He wipes his eyes as they turn red with emotion.

“Oh God, that’s good. Now get him out please!” you beg Spooky as he puts the phone down and on speaker to talk to 911.

“Get a blanket, or jacket or shirt, something to wrap the baby up in,” the operator instructs. Sooky takes off his jacket, placing it down in front of you.

“Ok, now what?” Spooky asks. You cry out in pain as you instinctively push.

“That sounds like a contraction. Every time she feels one, she needs to push and you have to be ready to catch that baby.”

“Ok, baby. Push through the pain. Come on.”

“Once the baby’s head is out, don’t pull it but hold it as she pushes through the shoulders. Is the cord around its neck?”

Spooky shakes his head as you scream. “No, but he’s coming out so fast!”

“Get the jacket ready!” the operator exclaims.

Spooky looks at you straining once more to push as your child enters the world in a Carhartt jacket. A wave of relief washes over you and you both begin to weep, looking over the prettiest gooped up screaming baby you both ever laid eyes on.

“That sounds like a good cry! What did you have?” the operator asks.

Spooky wraps him up tight. “A boy. He’s a baby boy.” He wipes his face with the sleeve of his shirt. Looking up at you with elation. “You did it baby, here he is. What about the cord, do I cut it?”

“I would hold off until the ambulance arrives. Congratulations guys, for now keep the baby warm and tight, the ambulance should be there any minute to look over the baby and get him and mom to the hospital. Merry Christmas you all!”

“Merry Christmas,” you both say. You hold your baby tight to you, wiping off his face as his lower lip trembles with a whimper. Thick dark hair covers the top of his head and you pull out his little hands just to kiss them.

“All ten,” you look down at his narrow feet, “...toes too.”

Spook kneels on the car floor looking down at his son with you, sniffling. “He’s got eyes like mine. Eyebrows too.”

You nod. “Hair too. Damn shame. You should grow yours so you’re twins.”

Spooky laughs. “Maybe.” He lays his hand on the back of your head, kissing your forehead, your nose, your lips. “You did so good, baby.”

“I think that’s the most scared I ever seen you be, Oscar. A little baby had the gangster on his knees today.”

Spooky sighs. “Please. It was you being in pain, cuz I never want to see you like that, and then...he’s out and...this is some tough shit."

You cradle the side of his face as his tears roll over the tattooed ones on his face. You coo at him, trying not to laugh just because his hard demeanor has turned completely to jelly for care over his new family.

Your eyes well up again looking from him to your son. “I still can’t believe it. He did me dirty for this one. I wish he had the little hat I packed for him.”

Spooky’s eye catches something in the back behind his backseat. “Yo, yes! Look!”

He reaches over the two of you to find navy blue bag with cartoon doggies all over. Your heart swells at the sight.

“The bag! Why did you stuff it back there?!”

He unzips it, excitedly rummaging around. “For an emergency! It’s a backup, but I put this in here...”

He reveals a grey hat with multi colored triangles down the middle that makes your baby resemble a mini sleeping dinosaur. You both help to carefully slide it on top, keeping his eyes free although his have stay cozily closed.

You chuckle to yourself. “You got him his first. You did it. Daddy brought some Christmas to him.”

Spooky kisses his son once more before noticing the approaching sirens and lights in the distance.

“I’m gonna give him a lot. You both won’t need for anything, just so he can be great. Greater than me even. My first born, my world.”

#shakafic #oscar diaz x reader #ficmas

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benjaminmoorepaint · 4 years ago

Text

the cake election

As his lieutenants filed into the backroom of the café Musain, Enjolras had an inkling that this would not be a particularly productive meeting—it being the last of the year, as many of his friends would be leaving Paris to spend Christmas at home. This assumption was immediately validated when Courfeyrac strode in with a magnificent pastry cake.

“Where did you get that?” Prouvaire exclaimed. “Surely you didn’t make it yourself.”

Courfeyrac placed it on the central table. “A friend of mine, Jeanette, gave it to me because they won’t be selling them officially until next month. She’s an excellent baker—works in the bakery on the Rue Saint-Jacques.”

“A friend?” Bahorel said innocently.

“This week, a friend—next week, who knows?”

Grantaire, already in the merriest stage of drunkenness, piped up from his corner: “There’s nothing better than a girl who can bake, you need nothing else in your life if you have one, she fulfills all your needs. Every day I see a girl who passes in front of my apartment with two loaves. The very prettiest sort. I never pay her any mind, but she smiles at me each day when as she walks by. If I were a free man you’d never see me again. Gentlemen, I’m afraid Courfeyrac shall be leaving your ranks soon, as he will be far too distracted by his panem et circenses—he’ll no longer care for your Hébert, your Danton, your—” he gestured vaguely with his bottle.

“Grantaire, I don’t think you even make sense to yourself,” Courfeyrac scolded.

“You are derailing the meeting,” Enjolras said. “I had hoped to address our allies in the Rue de Charonne.”

“I have it on good authority that they are laying low this week on account of the raid at the wine-shop,” Courfeyrac replied. “Besides, do you want cake or not?”

Enjolras blinked. “I want cake,” he said.

“Good man.” Courfeyrac took out his pocketknife and sliced the cake into nine pieces.

The cake was, admittedly, very good, and politics were forgotten for a few minutes as they ate.

“There’s a bean in the cake,” said Enjolras suddenly, “and I nearly broke my tooth on it.”

“Hm. Perhaps that’s why she gave it to me for free,” Courfeyrac said.

Laigle threw up his hands. “It’s a galette des rois,” he exclaimed, “Obviously.”

“Not like any I’ve ever eaten,” said Combeferre. “A brioche des rois is a…brioche, shaped like a crown, with candied fruit.”

“Right,” said Joly, “but it’s called a coque des rois.”

“Reiaume,” said Bahorel.

“Tortell,” supplied Grantaire.

“Anyway,” said Jean Prouvaire, “Enjolras got the bean in his cake, which means he is king for the day.”

This proclamation was met with an uproar of laughter.

“Absolutely not,” said Enjolras. “I’ll have no part in this.”

“You have to. The bean chose you.”

“The bean chose—” Enjolras dropped his fork. “Would you endure the divine right of kings? Should we suffer Charles X because he was born a Bourbon? I have not the merit nor the desire to be king. Only chance, or in this case, the bean, decrees it so.”

“It’s only a jest,” said Laigle.

“It’s time-honored tradition,” said Prouvaire. “In the Middle Ages they would have a king of fools to lead the revelry during Christmastide.”

“And,” added Combeferre, “if we are having a king cake we ought to have a king. One naturally follows the other.”

Enjolras raised his hand to silence them. “An election, then. We shall choose our king freely among ourselves. Citizens, let us show our convictions even in jest.”

“An election!” Courfeyrac exclaimed. “A capital idea.” He picked up his hat and placed it in the center of the table, then tore a piece of paper into strips. “I will arbitrate. Place your ballots here.”

Once everyone had deposited their ballots into the hat, Courfeyrac tallied them up. “Eight votes for Enjolras,” he announced. “One vote for Grantaire, which is in Enjolras’s hand, if I am not mistaken.”

Enjolras looked vexed. “You can’t dispute the results of a fair and free election,” Feuilly reprimanded.

“You voted for me?” Grantaire gravely put his hand to his heart. “I am deeply touched by your display of faith. Deeply touched.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “I could think of no one better to play the king of fools.”

“Better to be the king of fools than a king’s fool,” Grantaire said before taking another swig from his nearly-empty bottle.

Enjolras opened his mouth to reply, then thought better of it.

“Best of all,” said Laigle, “this means you must bring us a cake next year.” Joly and Grantaire cheered.

Enjolras shook his head in exasperation, though he was not truly annoyed. He looked out the window. It was snowing outside, and he felt very warm inside, with his friends making merry around him and the fire crackling in the corner. Combeferre and Courfeyrac debated politics, Bahorel and Prouvaire talked about theater, the remaining trio set up a game of cards. He was content to listen to them. He never understood what Prouvaire and Bahorel said about art and beauty and never would, because here were all the beautiful things, he thought, all the beautiful things in the world.

#my fic #enjolras #grantaire #les amis #sliding in under the wire with a christmassy fic

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thatesqcrush · 4 years ago

Text

Holiday B!ngo Masterlist

Key:

🌶= denotes smut

@thatesqcrush

Private Show (Bryan Kneef, Rafael Barba)🌶

Snowflakes & Surprises (Bryan Kneef) 🌶

Holiday Surprise (Bryan Kneef, Rafael Barba) 🌶

Christmas Confessions (Rafael Barba)

Neighbors, Pt. 6 (Rafael Barba) 🌶

The Trip (Bryan Kneef) 🌶

Team Bonding (Bryan Kneef) 🌶

Three Words (Rafael Barba)

The Trip, Pt. 2 (Bryan Kneef) 🌶

Ringin’ in a Brand New Year (Bryan Kneef, Rafael Barba)🌶

Christmas in the Heights (Nevada Ramirez) 🌶

All I Want for Christmas Is You** (Barson) 🌶

Struffoli & Staten Island (Sonny Carisi) 🌶

After Hours (Bryan Kneef) 🌶

After Hours, Pt. 2: A Blissful New Year (Bryan Kneef) 🌶

@madpanda75

Marry Christmas - a pre-Hostage drabble (Rafael Barba)

@teamsladsandgents

Matching PJs (Nick Amaro) 🌶

Wrapping Presents (Sonny Carisi)

Mistletoe (Sonny Carisi) 🌶

Skating In Central Park (Rafael Barba)

The Detective & the Teacher, Pt. 3 (Sonny Carisi) 🌶

Something Sweet (Sonny Carisi) 🌶

Warmth on a Cold Day (Rafael Barba)

Fake Dating (Rafael Barba) 🌶

Leap of Faith (Rafael Barba)

Leap of Faith, Pt. 2 (Rafael Barba)

Leap of Faith, Pt. 3 (Rafael Barba)

Leap of Faith, Pt. 4 (Rafael Barba) 🌶

Ugly Sweaters (Nick Amaro) 🌶

Snowball Fight (Nick Amaro)

Lights** (Nick Amaro) 🌶

Fireside Lights** (Nick Amaro) 🌶

Who Needs Traditions?** (Nick Amaro) 🌶

Old Feelings, New Family (Nick Amaro) 🌶

It’s the Thought That Counts (Rafael Barba) 🌶

Gunshots series: ch. 1 & ch, 2 (Rafael Barba)

Nyquil (Rafael Barba)

Second Chances** 🌶 (Rafael Barba)

The Grinch Found Love (Rafael Barba)

Peppermint Tingles** (Rafael Barba)

Wrapping Presents (Sonny Carisi)

Mistletoe** (Sonny Carisi) 🌶

A Glimpse of the Future (Sonny Carisi)

Learning Something New (Sonny Carisi)

@karens-imagined-world

I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus (Sonny Carisi) 🌶

I Look Ridiculous (Nevada Ramirez) 🌶

Holiday Party (Sonny Carisi)

Fireside (Rafael Barba)

Bambi On Ice (Sonny Carisi)

Ugly Sweater (Sonny Carisi) 🌶

Wrong Gift (Rafael Barba) 🌶

Silver & Gold (Jonas Nightingale)

Hot Cocoa (Sonny Carisi)

Snowstorm (Rafael Barba)

The Grinch (Nevada Ramirez)

Jul (Rafael Barba)

Holiday Movie (Jackson Neill)

Tree Lighting (Jackson Neill)

Broken Glass (Nick Amaro)

Deck the Halls (Bryan Kneef)

Frozen Fingers (Jonas Nightingale)

Shakespeare & a Snowstorm (Rafael Barba)

Candy Cane (Frederick Chilton)

Cut (Nick Amaro)

Kransekake (Sonny Carisi)

New Years Bang (Bryan Kneef) 🌶

@delia26

hot cocoa/snowstorm/fireside (Rafael Barba)

sledding/skating, cookies/baking and snowball fight (Sonny Carisi)

midnight (Rafael Barba)

@prurientpuddlejumper

Broken Ornaments (Frederick Chilton)

Snowstorm (Rafael Barba)

Te Quiero (Rafael Barba)

Tradition (Rafael Barba) 🌶

Secret Santa (Rafael Barba)

Snowball Fight - Moodboard (Rafael Barba)

You’re a Mean One, Mr. Kneef - Pt.1 (Bryan Kneef) 🌶

You’re a Mean One, Mr. Kneef - Pt.2 (Bryan Kneef) 🌶

You’re a Mean One, Mr. Kneef - Pt. 3 (Bryan Kneef) 🌶

You’re a Mean One, Mr. Kneef - P. 4 (Bryan Kneef) 🌶

You’re a Mean One, Mr. Kneef, Pt. 5 (Bryan Kneef) 🌶

You’re a Mean One, Mr. Kneef, Pt. 6 (Bryan Kneef) 🌶

You’re a Mean One, Mr. Kneef, Pt. 7 (Bryan Kneef)

You’re a Mean One, Mr. Kneef, Pt. 8 (Bryan Kneef) 🌶

Skating (Frederick Chilton)

Candy Cane Part 1 (Frederick Chilton)

Candy Cane Part 2 (Frederick Chilton) 🌶

@beccabarba

Breathtaking (Rafael Barba) 🌶

Private Party (Sonny Carisi, Nick Amaro) 🌶

Christmas Gifts (Bryan Kneef) 🌶

Under the Mistletoe (Nick Amaro) 🌶

Sleepless in the Snow (Nick Amaro) 🌶

Fake Relationship (Nevada Ramirez)

The Anchor and the Storm, Pt. 1 (Nevada Ramirez)

The Anchor and the Storm, Pt 2 (Nevada Ramirez) 🌶

Good Cop, Bad Cop (Sonny Carisi, Nick Amaro) 🌶

Mince Pies (Rafael Barba)

Pouring Rain (Rafael Barba) 🌶

Santa Clause is Coming to Town (Bryan Kneef) 🌶

Humbug (Bryan Kneef) 🌶

Christmas Gifts (Bryan Kneef) 🌶

Nevada and the Good Girl: Pt. 10 (Nevada Ramirez) 🌶

Nevada and the Good Girl: Pt. 11 (Nevada Ramirez) 🌶

Nevada and The Good Girl: Happy New Year (Nevada Ramirez)

Forget the World (Rafael Barba)

@itsjustmyfantasyroom

New York Best Friend (Nick Amaro) 🌶

King (Nevada Ramirez) 🌶

Grumpy Grinch (Rafael Barba)

Prettiest Ugliest (Jackson Neill) 🌶

Hot Christmas (Rafael Barba) 🌶

Two (Nick Amaro)

Size Too Small (Sonny Carisi) 🌶

Candy Cane (Rafael Barba)

Red nose (Nick Amaro

*Alone* (Rafael Barba) 🌶

Goal’s* (Nick Amaro) 🌶

Body heat (Rafael Barba)

Bad Dream* (Sonny Carisi) 🌶

His (Frederick Chilton)

In the spirit (Bryan Kneef)

Hold Still (Bryan Kneef)

Uncle Sonny (Sonny Carisi)

Maybe 4? (Barba x Amaro x Carisi)

Too much? (Sonny Carisi)

Four Weeks* (Nick Amaro) 🌶

Hot Tub* (Jackson Neill) 🌶

Red Bow (Rafael Barba) 🌶

You Made It (Rafael Barba)

Silver Heart (Frederick Chilton)

Show (Nick Amaro)

@sweetcannolicarisi

Mistletoe (Sonny Carisi x Kat Tami) 🌶

Hot Cocoa (Rafael Barba)

Candy Canes (Sonny Carisi x Kat Tamin)

@tropes-and-tales

Charmed (Rafael Barba)

Cursed (Rafael Barba) 🌶

Spellbound (Rafael Barba)

Sparks (Sonny Carisi)

Breaking Point (Bryan Kneef)

Making a Point (Bryan Kneef)

Tipping Point (Bryan Kneef)

A Point of Pride (Bryan Kneef)

Point of No Return (Bryan Kneef) 🌶

High Point (Bryan Kneef) 🌶

Low Point (Bryan Kneef) 🌶

The Lowest Point (Bryan Kneef)

Point of Honor (Bryan Kneef) 🌶

@law-nerd105

Marry You? (Frederick Chilton)

Fireside (Rafael Barba) 🌶

Holiday Movie (Rafael Barba)

Merry Not-Christmas (Sonny Carisi) 🌶

@writing-mermaid

Decorations of Red on a Green Christmas Tree (Sonny Carisi)

Last Christmas I Gave You My Heart, But The Very Next Day, You Gave It Away (Sonny Carisi, Nick Amaro)

@barbasimp

Holly & Jolly (preview), (Rafael Barba)

Holly & Jolly - Pt. 1 (Rafael Barba)

Holly & Jolly - Pt 2.(Rafael Barba)

Holly & Jolly - Pt 3 (Rafael Barba) 🌶

@writing-mermaid

I’ll Be Your Dream, I’ll Be Your Fantasy (Sonny Carisi)

#thatesqcrush holiday bingo

140 notes · View notes

lesbian-deadpool · 5 years ago

Text

Its Begining To Look A Lot Like Christmas

Natasha Romanoff X reader

Modern AU

Words: 1,980

Warnings: Nothing. Just some family fluff.

Request: Nope.

Summary: To you, there's no better way to spend Christmas, than with your beautiful family.

A/N: Surprize!

(Not My GIF)

***

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas

Everywhere you go;

Take a look at the five and ten

It's glistening once again

With candy canes and silver lanes aglow

Every corner you turned, all you could see was a gaggle of Christmas festivities.

Decorations strung up around every entrance, be them wreaths, garlands, bright twinkling lights, or something else entirely. Used to entice people inside, get warm, maybe spend a little.

Who could blame them, really?

You could count at least twenty Christmas trees, in this block alone. Either outside or in the store's windows. It really was that time of year, huh?

With flakes of white slowly drifting to the snow-coated ground, you couldn't disagree, that it was nothing short of breathtaking.

More so to you. Thanks to your red-headed wife walking in front of you. Each of her hands clasped around one of your children’s so that they wouldn't wander too far. Listening intently to what the had to say.

The view looked like a Christmas card. One that mad personally for you.

“Hey!” Natasha called over to you. Smiling because she knew all of the thoughts running through your mind. It was almost scary sometimes, how well she could practically read your mind, “Are you almost done dazing out, over there? Your son wants a piggyback ride.”

Smiling yourself, you jogged over to where your family was waiting for you. Scooping your son, from where he stood, holding his mother's hand. Hoisting him up and onto your shoulders.

“How’s that, instead?” you asked the giggling boy. Your hands moving to hold his legs, so he wouldn't fall.

Luka nodded down at you, his small hands threading into you snow-speckled hair, as you began walking again. With Natasha beside you, your daughter on her hip, still babbling away.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas

Toys in every store

But the prettiest sight to see is the holly that will be

On your own front door

You finally arrived at your destination. Placing your son onto the ground, you watched as both he and Ana looked in every direction of the mall. Not straying too far from you and Natasha. Smiling, you knew you taught them well.

This was a sort of tradition for your little family. You would schedule a day where you had to run a few light errands, and take the kids out with you. And as a reward of sorts, you would take them to a few shops they wanted to go to. But in actuality, this was your’s and Natasha’s way of seeing what to get them for Christmas, whilst also having a nice family day out. Then buy the gifts a few days later.

It was quite a good tradition if you did say so yourself.

“I want to go tho the Leggos!”

“I want to go to Build-A-Bear!” They excitedly spoke at the same time, turning to face you.

Laughing, you raised your arms to calm them down slightly, with Natasha giggling beside you.

“Okay, okay. We’ll go to any place you want.”

“But how about we start at the closest place?” Natasha suggested, “That way we’re not walking back and forth?”

They nodded excitedly, and then you were off to the first, of many shops.

A pair of hop-a-long boots and a pistol that shoots

Is the wish of Barney and Ben;

Dolls that will talk and will go for a walk

Is the hope of Janice and Jen;

And Mom and Dad can hardly wait for school to start again

“When do they go back to school, again?” you asked Natasha, who was busy washing the dishes, them passing them over for you to dry them.

She laughed. “You really can’t be telling me that you can’t wait until they go back to school.”

“No...” you said honestly. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to have a break from ‘em sometimes. But I can’t get enough of them. Of you.” You nudged your shoulder against hers. “Our family. It’s like heaven to me.”

Natasha paused, to stare deeply into your eyes, totally captivated by the honesty and devotion shining in them.

“It’s like heaven to me, too,” she whispered.

That was all you needed before you leaned in to give her a love-filled kiss.

“Eww!” A high pitched whine sounded behind you, pulling you and Natasha apart, “Kissing’s gross.”

You looked over your shoulder to see your son standing in the kitchen doorway. His little face scrunched up in disgust.

“Okay, I take it all back,” you mumbled to your wife. Who scrunched her nose up playfully at you, nudging you back, slightly harder than you did.

Turning to Luka, she playfully backfired a, “You’re gross.”

He laughed and ran from the room, calling out to his sister, “I just saw them kissing!”

“Eww!” Came her far away voice.

You turned back to your chore, Natasha handing you another freshly clean plate for you to dry.

“I hope you know, we just scarred him for life,” you joked.

“Well, parents are supposed to scar their kids. It’s all in the job description.”

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas

Everywhere you go;

There's a tree in the Grand Hotel, one in the park as well

It's the sturdy kind that doesn't mind the snow

“Mom, look!” your son yelled for Natasha. Pointing at the magnificent tree standing in the hotel you were walking past.

“Yeah, honey,” Natasha spoke, bending over to pick up the fast-growing, six-year-old, “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Luka nodded his head, still in awe at the bright tree. Smiling lovingly as the child, Natasha rubbed her nose into his cheek. Causing him to tuck his head into his neck, and away from his mothers loving, but tickling, ministrations. Giggling as he did. Natasha soon joining him, with her own laughter.

God.

You couldn’t believe just how lucky you were to have this in your life. Your wife. Your son. Your daughter.

In your eyes.

You were the luckiest person in the world.

“What about you, Ana?” You asked the girl in your arms. Noticing that she hadn’t said anything. But being too distracted by the image of your wife and son in front of you, to notice her also starring in awe at the tall tree. Watching as the bright lights, slowly twinkled away.

Smiling, you already knew the answer to the question you were about to ask, unable to hide the humour in your voice, you asked, “Do you like the tree?”

The four-year-old nodded her head vigorously. Mouth open and still staring at the tree.

The laughter finally erupted from your chest, Natasha glanced back, smiling at you and your pre-occupied daughter, as you kissed Ana’s hair.

They were gonna love the tree lighting ceremony, you were on your way to right now.

Oh, and were you right.

With Anastasia still in your arm, the other wrapped around Natasha’s waist, as she held your son on her hip. You watched the Mayor of New York City light the tree up.

While the kids watched the grand tree, covered in bright multi-coloured lights, and the just as giant snowflakes, projected onto the surround in buildings, in absolute wonderment. You placed your chin on your wife's shoulder, moving to kiss her cheek and whisper in her ear, “Merry Christmas, my love.”

“Merry Christmas, baby,” Natasha replied, looking at you over her shoulder. Her eyes nothings short of loving, when suddenly her lips were on yours.

The kiss was short and sweet, but no less perfect than the first you ever shared. And all the others after it.

“I love you,” Natasha said.

“I love you, too.”

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas;

Soon the bells will start

And the thing that will make them ring is the carol that you sing

Right within your heart

The carpet rubbed against your jeans from your spot on the floor, as you twirled a giggling Anastasia.

You had just finished dinner when Natasha had dragged your son up to dance to the record playing in the background, you following soon after with your daughter.

Both you and Natasha were kneeled on the ground, as to dance with them better. You had chuckled when you first saw that your wife and Luka were around the same height when she kneeled, while you were still a head above Ana. Natasha threw a playful glare over her shoulder when she heard your laughter, knowing exactly what you were thinking.

The warm glow from the fireplace settled in your bones and all around the room, giving it an almost heavenly glow. Making the colourful lights on your poorly, albeit still perfect in yours and Natashas opinion, decorated tree shine brighter.

Getting to your feet, you picked your daughter up and span her in the air, before placing her down gently. Leaning over to whisper in her ear, you asked, “You wanna go dance with your brother?”

Ana smiled and nodded, before taking off towards her big brother, pulling him from your grinning wife. All the while you walked towards them.

Offering Natasha your hand, once you were by her side. She gratefully accepted it, allowing you to pull her to her feet and into your arms.

And so there you stood. Arms wrapped around one another, heads resting against each other, and swaying side to side, as you watched your kids dance around each other.

“Thank you,” Natasha spoke so only you would hear.

“For what?”

“For giving me this life. Our kids. Thank you for loving me- Us, so much.”

“Baby,” you cooed to the red-head in your arms, placing a delicate kiss on her red hair, “I wouldn’t have my life any other way. Thank you, for giving me this.”

Natasha leaned up, capturing your lips in a long heartfelt kiss. Only being pulled from it when the kids bound into the sides of your legs, grinning up at you.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas

Toys in every store

But the prettiest sight to see is the holly that will be

On your own front door

Natasha came into the living room, plopping down beside you on the couch after the kids had finally fallen asleep. Placing a peck on your cheek, brandishing a present onto your lap.

”Merry Christmas, baby.”

You looked up at her, confused. “But you already gave me my gift.”

”Yeah well, this is something a lil’ extra.” She smiled.

”What is it?”

”You’ll have to open it to find out.”

Pursing your lips you tried to hide your smile. Tried.

Natasha watched intently as you reached for the thin black box, with gold ribbon added as decoration.

Lifting the lid up, you peered inside pausing at what you saw.

Slowly, you reached for the contents. Unable to tare your eyes from the little window that held two thin pink lines.

”It worked?” you asked, choked up. Holding the pregnancy test up in your hand.

”It worked.” Natasha nodded, tears springing into her eyes.

The box fell to the floor, and the test landed behind you on the couch, once you gently pounced on Natasha. Kissing her in earnest, as she lay below you. Pushing all of the love you had into that one kiss, feeling her do the same.

Natasha broke away from you with a gasp.

”I love you.”

”I love you, too.”

Pushing against your chest, Natasha stood up, dragging you behind her. And towards your bedroom.

”Come on, “ she ordered gently, her voice turning sultry, “You have one more gift to unwrap.”

You groaned.

“Whatever did I do to deserve you?”

Throwing you a smirk over her shoulder, Natasha span around, giving you one last tug, attaching your lips together once more. And closing the bedroom door behind you.

So it's Christmas once more

#original work #original fanfiction #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #marvel #MCU #merry christmas and happy holidays

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doll-collecting-aerialist · 5 years ago

Text

The Story Of My Addy, In Honor Of Her Birthday.

(VERY long post.)

Growing up, the three American Girls I wanted most were Addy, Kirsten, and Cecile. However, Kirsten and Addy were always the top dolls I wished for, they probably tied in first place. I remember being about six or seven and flipping through my first American Girl catalog I ever received, along with Kit, my first American Girl. After staring at her respective pages, I flipped through the other Historicals. I was never too interested in the non-Historical aspects of AG as a kid (other than Mckenna), I was what one would class as an aspiring history buff. I thought all the dolls were gorgeous, but Addy in particular caught my eye. She was stunning.

I thought Addy was beautiful, and her pink meet dress was quite similar to a couple of my childhood dresses. If I wanted to be atmospheric I’d probably say I was wearing my favorite pink sundress the first time I was introduced to Addy, but realistically I was probably wearing my frog rain boots and my lobster pajamas. I had a fascination with footwear as a kid, particularly boots, and Addy’s shoes reminded me of Doc Martens. I had always wanted a pair of black boots, and I thought it was sick that Addy had “Docs.” I thought she was the most stylish out of the historical characters. I thought Addy’s hair was the prettiest out of the Historicals as well, it looked very soft and reminded me of my best friend’s hair. I also thought Addy had the prettiest face out of the dolls, I loved her nose and her eyes.

However, the people around me didn’t see Addy the way I did. I suppose you could call it a tradition for the girls of my elementary school to huddle around a new American Girl catalog when it released. My peers often marveled over the blond or light-red haired Truly Mes, and occasionally the GOTY. They rarely paid attention to the Historicals, and when they did it was usually a doll like Julie. When I brought up how pretty Addy (or Cecile) was, and how much I loved her, the girls would laugh at me. There soon became a group of white girls in my school who would laugh at me for wanting a black doll. They would call Addy horrible things, anything from saying she looked “dirty” to calling her the n-word. They said I probably only wanted Addy so “I could have a slave.” I would defend Addy and tell them that they were wrong, but if anything that made them more antagonistic towards her and me.

I was a very shy, anxious, soft-spoken kid, and so thinking about telling an adult made me want to vomit my Caprisun. The adults of my elementary school were also extremely dismissive of me anyway in some cases, and would become annoyed with me for reasons I won’t get into, other than that I was a “problem” child as a kid due to my home situation, being bullied, and not being accommodated in school for my disabilities. I knew I wasn’t going to be taken seriously by my teachers, and I didn’t want to gather up the courage to open up to one of them only to be dismissed. There were some adults that did see what was going on and would tell the girls to stop, but more often than not when the adults did witness the girls making fun of me, they’d turn the other way, or even condone it. Many adults asked me why I didn’t want a doll that looked like me, or asked why I didn’t want a “pretty doll.” There would be adults who would warn me that I would ruin Addy’s hair and that Addy’s hair was to difficult for me to take care of. Adults would often try to sway me to like another doll, usually a white, blonde-haired one.

I began to keep my love for Addy a secret. As an elementary schooler, I didn’t understand why everyone was upset with me for loving Addy, but the reactions from the people around me made me feel as though there was something wrong with myself. There wasn’t really anyone telling me that the people being racist towards Addy were the problem and that I was not the issue. My eight-year-old brain basically came to the conclusion that people wouldn’t be yelling at me if I wasn’t doing something wrong, and for a while, I felt ashamed for loving Addy. I still did love her however, and I would quietly stare at her page in the catalog for hours, becoming extremely upset with the fact that I would never have her. I adored all her outfits, they reminded me of the ones my mother and grandmother would sew for me. I wanted her Christmas Dress, Sunday Best, and Nightgown especially. I begged for a nightgown so I could be like Addy. I wanted Ida Bean and Addy’s lace-up boots. Basically, anything Addy related? I wanted badly, but I always kept it a tight secret.

An activity my family would often partake in growing up was going to the thrift store during half-off weeks. On one of these trips, my mother found quite a few historical American Girl books, including a copy of Meet Addy and Changes For Addy. There was also a copy of Merry Christmas Kit, Molly Saves the Day, Meet Felicity, etc... But I was extremely excited for the Addy books in particular. I carried my copy of Meet Addy everywhere, from the time I was in about fourth grade, until the time I was eventually pulled out of public school in the middle of grade seven. I always had it in my backpack, and I was to busy reading it to pay attention to the kids who liked to make fun of me (or my teacher trying to teach me for that matter, my book got taken up on multiple occasions.). Meet Addy and Changes For Addy were the only Addy books I was able to read until recently, except for the times I would skim through her books when my mother went to the library. Only this past year have I been able to actually sit down and read her entire central series rather than skimming/reading random chapters.

Addy’s books were my only meaningful education on slavery and the Civil War for a long time. Before I was homeschooled, my education on the topics were often skittered around, or had details omitted to make my state appear less complicit (Where I live, all history education in public school revolves around our state, excluding things such as world history. At least it did when I went to public school.). My elementary school only had thirty minutes of allotted time for history or science instruction, and even then it was treated as optional instruction. The allotted time slot was often used for extra math instruction, test prep, or free time. I’ve had to retake much of my history education when I became homeschooled, because the education I received in public school was poor. Before Addy's books, I had been taught that ‘slavery wasn’t that bad,’ and my first actual look into the topic came from her series. My only meaningful history instruction for a long time came from the American Girl books, but Addy’s were especially important due to how little education I got on the topics of slavery and the Civil War, and also due to how much misinformation I was taught when we did discuss these topics in class.

Addy’s books made me love her even more, and she was definitely one of my first crushes as an elementary schooler. I thought she was beautiful and strong, and I wanted more than anything to be like her. All my pink dresses became “Addy dresses” and I would pretend to dress up as her. I liked to draw her and write stories about her. My grandmother at one point gave me a doll outfit that was (coincidently?) extremely similar to one in an illustration in Addy’s book, and I loved it to pieces. I somehow found out about Addy’s stilting outfit, and that started my multiple-year fascination with stilts and begging my parents for them (I never got them). I learned to play mancala primarily because of Addy (and also for the fact that the kids at my summer camp that year based your popularity off of if you could play or not).

Addy was a strong character who was both a child and a girl, which I didn’t see much of, and I looked up to her immensely. She was also black, and although I’m not, seeing a strong girl character who was also in a minority meant a lot to me as a disabled kid. I was used to reading books about white, able body boys who were tough and strong, I rarely saw books that had girls who were strong, and if I did they were often adults, as well as able body and/or white. The disability representation in Addy’s books was also extremely well written, especially in comparison to much of the disability “representation” I was exposed to as a kid. I liked to read the chapters with M’Dear in Happy Birthday Addy, or the later books with Sam whenever my mother took me to the library. I was used to disabled characters “overcoming”, or being pitied in the books I would read, but M’Dear and Sam weren’t like that.

Eventually, I grew up never receiving Addy, and was pressured to put my dolls away. It wasn’t until a couple years later I would bring my dolls back out. My sister had her own American Girls at that point, so there was no weird obligation to let her play with my old ones, and I was no longer in public school where I would be made fun of for liking dolls. I had missed my dolls all the years they had been put away/given to my sister and I was so happy to finally have them back. After a while of having my dolls returned to me, Melody was released, which is really what completely brought me back into American Girls. Growing up, I wanted a Civil Rights American Girl badly. I am neurodivergent, and as a kid, I had a hyperfixation with the Civil Rights Movement. I wanted a Civil Rights American Girl almost as much as I wanted Addy, Kirsten, and Cecile, but she didn’t exist yet.

I immediately knew that I wanted both Melody and Addy in my collection as soon as possible (I had gotten Kirsten at that point. I wanted Cecile as well, but she wasn’t at the top of my mind as she is retired.). Although I no longer had a strange sense of reputation to uphold with my peers at public school, I did have a girlfriend. As a young teenager, I was so enamoured with the thought of having a girlfriend, that I often rushed into relationships with extremely toxic people, and this girl was no different. Aside from the usual “dolls are creepy” narrative, she also told me that she found Melody and Addy to be racist and that they offended her. She was very adamant that she would break up with me if I got Melody or Addy, and this scared my young teenage self who wanted a girlfriend (To this day, I do not know her exact issue with Melody.). I still got Melody that year, unbeknownst to her. I kept Melody a well hidden secret from her, but she had scared me enough to where I was afraid to get Addy at all. At this point I had started researching Addy constantly, and I knew the discourse surrounding her. I didn’t want to make my girlfriend at the time upset, so I held off on getting her. I have an AG store close to where I live, and I went a couple times after getting Melody and every single time I wanted more than anything to get Addy.

It would be a couple years before I would get Addy, as I got her this past January. I had started to become very antsy to get her, and in my wait for her had welcomed both Nellie and Josefina into my collection. About last September however, I made the mistake of bringing up how much I wanted Addy on an activism account I ran on Instagram, and immediately had people flooding me with all the usual Addy discourse. It took a long time to recover from that, and I had to shut down that account for a couple months. Since then everyone has cooled down about Addy, and I have some people who even follow me specifically for Addy. I’m not ashamed to admit that account has turned into more of an Addy Appreciation Account rather than an activism account.

My quest to find the perfect Addy became all I would talk and think about. If you were within a mile of me, you KNEW that I wanted Addy, and I wanted her badly. Shout out to my friends who allowed me to talk from sunrise to sunset about Addy with no breaks for multiple weeks in a row. I was constantly looking on second hand sites, thrift stores, anywhere I could to find the Addy I wanted. I had my heart set on buying a pre-Beforever Addy at that point, and I was doing everything to find a listing that was affordable and that I loved. Then came the day where I found an Addy listing that I immediately fell in love with. I don’t know what exactly it was about the listing, but I wanted THAT Addy. Unfortunately, the site wouldn’t let me check out and I was incredibly upset to the point where I had multiple of my own friends, and even people I didn’t know on my Instagram account mentioned earlier offer to buy me an Addy doll. My “activism” account is relatively large, and there was a group of people ready to all chip in and help get me Addy. I had people ask if they could buy the listing that I wanted, and then ship her to me. Addy was all I could talk about at that point, and I had only talked about her/posted about her for at least a month. It only made me more upset to find out that the listing I had wanted had been sold. Plot twist! It was my mother who bought her.

(This is the first photo I ever took with Addy, I didn’t think I had saved it, but my friend did!)

I cried for about two weeks until she arrived. I was so happy I was finally going to have Addy, I couldn’t believe it. I thought for so long that I would never be able to have her. When she finally arrived it was love at first sight. I didn’t cry immediately upon unboxing her, I was trying to keep my composure, as I was filming unboxing her to put on my Instagram. Mostly so my friends could see, but also because I wanted to keep the moment, and because some of my followers were interested. I cried after turning the camera off, however. For the next couple of months I was extremely protective of my doll, I had the fear that she was just going to be taken away from me again. I took her everywhere with me around the house, she slept with me, ate dinner with me, would attend my online classes and sweep the porch with me. I didn’t like going out in public when I couldn’t have Addy nearby, I still don’t really, not that it’s much of an issue as we are quarantined for the time being. I’m planning on getting a mini Addy that I can keep in my purse sometime.

Addy doesn’t stay on my shelf with my other dolls, she sits on my bed. Someday I hope to have her complete collection. That’s a far off, possibly unreasonable goal, but I don’t mind. My more attainable goal is to read all of Addy’s books, which I’m about halfway through doing. I recently got my first official Addy dress, her Christmas Dress, which she is currently sporting as we speak.

#american girl doll #american girl #addy walker #ag doll #dolls of color #ag #dolls

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detroitbydark · 5 years ago

Text

Have Yourself a Merry Airport Christmas (H.O.) Chp 2

Title: Have Yourself A Marry Airport Christmas

Chapter 2: You’re a Keen One, Mr. Brit.

Summary: You thought your holiday had been ruined until a handsome Brit steps in to rescue your Christmas spirit.

Word Count: 3000+

Authors Notes: This chapter is so self indulgent, particularly the beginning. I'm unrepentant. As before this remains to fluffiest of fluff. No Warnings.

Tags: @aossi @the-southernbelle @hoforhaz @tomsrebeleyebrow @skymoonandstardust

“A bucket list? Like that thing before you die?” You ask a little incredulous. Harrison laughs, your face must show your confusion because he takes pity on you.

“Darling, I’m talking about your Christmas Bucket list.” He explains with raised brows as if it’s common knowledge. “The things that you just can’t have a holiday without. Like, My family always watches The Polar Express-“

“I love that one! We always watched Scrooged and A Christmas Story.”

Harrison nods, his already bright eyes light up and he gives you a toothy grin. “That’s it exactly! Also, I love Bill Murray. You’ve got excellent taste.”

It’s silly but you feel your cheeks heating up. You giggle at his praise.

“Ok, so now you tell me something on your bucket list.” He encourages. He leans his elbows on his knees waiting for your answer. You think for a moment. What were those things you had to have?

“Tourtiere” you say slowly, letting your mind roll through your families traditions.

“That’s French, yeah?”

“Yeah, I guess, i think it’s more French Canadian? it’s this meat pie we eat every year on Christmas Eve. Oh! And Tom & Jerry’s!” You say enthusiastically

“A what? Like the cartoon?”

“No, no, no…it’s a drink” you laugh and Harrison smiles as you ramble on. Just talking about Christmas at home seems to magically transport you back in time. You're a child sitting on the red shag carpeting at your grandparents. Your Grampa is sneaking your pieces of chocolate out of the 5lb box he’d picked up at Sackley’s. Your Mother is shooting him dirty looks because she’s told you to eat your dinner five times already. A virgin Tom & Jerry is cooling at your side and you use a spoon to scoop the sweet foam and eat it. The lights twinkling on your Gramma’s ancient artificial tree along with the tacky fiber optics she adored. Everything is right with the world as Bing Crosby songs a song about a White Christmas.

“Sounds good. An American thing?.” He questions.

You shake your head as you slip back into the present “Nah, it’s pretty specific to the part of Michigan I’m from.” Harrison is quick to make notes on his phone.

You feel yourself wilt a little remembering that those are things you're missing as you speak. Harrison notices too, “what else? Tell me more. Don’t stop.” He pokes you gently in the shoulder, gathering your attention back.

“Don’t act like I don’t know what you’re doing” you tease, giving him a faux tight-lipped face. “Ummm...presents, of course, and hot coffee and fresh oranges or apples in the morning.”

“My mum always did pastries, sausage and eggs for Christmas breakfast.” He adds.

“My Great Grandmother grew up during the Great Depression and they never had much for Christmas.” You explain trying to remember your Gramma’s stories, “she’d get,like, hair ribbons and pencils and would be so excited. But they lived on a dairy farm in Wisconsin so fresh fruit in the middle of winter was something crazy, especially like citrus fruit.” You can’t help but smiling at the memory. “My mom always went out and found the biggest, prettiest apples and oranges and put them in our stockings. We were allowed to go through our stockings before the adults got up but we had to wait for them to wake up to get our presents from Santa.” You pause, pulling a face “I feel like I’m talking a lot.”

Harrison moves closer so his knee is bumping against yours, “I like it. Don’t stop.”

You chew your bottom lip trying to fight back a smile. Your gaze drops to your hands and then begins a slow scan of the gate around you. It’s cleared out a bit, you’d heard plenty of people on phones trying to secure hotel rooms and the like. There was still a good number of people around but it’s wasn’t nearly so crowded and people had more room to spread out. Some of the tension seemed to ease off too as people accepted their fate and tried to make the best of it. Nearby a few soldiers had pulled out a deck of cards and were playing what sounded like a rousing game of spades. By the window, a pair of small children race matchbox cars up and down the sill. A small tree with colored lights twinkles at the gate desk, it’s worker long since vanished.

“We put a pickle on our tree. An ornament” you clarify, not looking away from the tree. “The kid that found the hidden pickle got to open the first present”.

“I’ve heard of that.” He says scrolling through his phone and finding a picture. When he turns it, you’re greeted with one of the most gorgeous trees you’ve ever seen. It’s easily takes up the corner of the room. It’s needles are blue green. it’s full and bushy. You can almost smell the scent of pine just looking at it. White lights and gold ribbon twinkle and shine. Cream, gold, and deep burgundy ornaments cling to the branches and a bright glowing star sits at the peak just barely brushing against the ceiling.

“That’s Mum’s big tree” Harrison says proudly. “It sits by the fireplace and it’s the first thing you see when you come in. She has a smaller one she puts all of the ornaments my sister and I made over the years on. That’s where the presents go.”

You take his phone and let your fingers graze along the screen. “It’s gorgeous. I bet it looks even better in person.”

“Absolutely stunning” he agrees taking his phone back when you offer it, your fingers graze his and you feel a little spark travel through your hand. You don’t look at him but you can hear the deep breath he takes before starts speaking again “I’m...I’m missing her wassail this year. it’s like a spiced wine?.” He chuckles lightly, “now that I think of it quite a bit of our tradition involves alcohol.”

“All the best do” you offer with a wink and a nudge of your elbow.

The pair of you spend the next few hours talking about your families. You sound like a pair of excited children comparing traditions and holidays past. You reach a lull in the conversation and the two of you watch travelers mill by. Harrison inspects the list he’s been making.

“Ok so I think we need to split up for a few? The shops are open for a bit longer and I need to get some things if we’re going to do this right.”

You laugh but realize he’s serious, “Harrison, we just met. You don’t have to do anything for me.”

He gives you a soft look, “I want to do something to take my mind off things and if I can cheer you up while I do it? I’m pretty chuffed about the idea!”

You can’t help the shy smile you fight back. When was the last time someone went out of their way for you. Here was an absolute stranger willing to spend his Christamas Eve and Christmas Day with the sad girl he’d just met for no other reason than to see her happy.

“Can we just say we’re doing this for us?” He asks when you don’t respond back immediately. You nod, biting your lower lip to keep your smile at bay. Harrison doesn’t bother checking his as he pushes off the ground. He grabs your hands as he goes, pulling you up along with him. Your hands stays in his for an extra second before you pull away. He gives you a smirk, “So now we're going to split up.”

You’ve only just met him and you already feel hesitant to leave. You’ve always been accused of having an awful poker face and Harrison only confirms it. “Do you trust me?” The question startles you.

You answer without hesitation.

That startles you even more.

“Yes.”

“Alright then. You’re in charge of dinner tonight. I’ll take care of tomorrow, yeah?” You nod as Harrison continues, “give me your phone” he holds out his hand, palm up, and you quickly fish in your pocket. When you hand him your phone he quickly sets himself up as a contact and calls himself. “Ok, now that we can get up with each other we’ll do what we’ve got to do and meet back here in a few hours. Sound good?”

He’s wandering around one of the handful of airport shops that were still open. Today was definitely turning out to be a lot more interesting than he’d originally thought when he’d first seen his flight was canceled. He couldn’t help himself when he’d spotted you hiding under your hoodie. Alone. Like he was but so much more sad. It had radiated off you in waves and had drawn him to do something, anything to make it go away.

He’s just finished grabbing a travel toothbrush and toothpaste. His bag was probably already at Heathrow already but regardless of where it was, he didn’t have it and he was going to need to get rid of some wicked morning breath tomorrow. His phone rings as he grabs a tiny bottle of mouthwash. Tom’s ugly mug stares back at him before he swipes to answer it.

“Ello?”

“Harrison? Don’t tell me you got grounded.” He can hear the teasing tone in his friend's voice. Harrison picks up a Beanie Baby snowman from a display and tosses it in his hand for a moment before setting it back down.

“Fine, I did NOT get stuck in Boston due to a stupid fucking snow storm.”

Tom laughs loudly, barking into the phone. Harrison holds it away from his ear until he’s sure he won’t rupture an eardrum listening to it.

“Have you got a hotel. From what they’re saying on the news you’re likely to be there through tomorrow night at least. The whole north east is a mess.”

Harrison grabs some different candy bars, some bottles of water, a few various other little bits and bobs. He wishes he had a buggy because his arms are getting full. The older man at the counter catches his eye and encourages him to make a pile. Harrison nods in thanks as he unloads and starts moving around again. “Nah, I’m here for the duration I think.”

“Bullshit, I’ll make some calls-”

“Tom” Harrison interrupts before his friend can get to far ahead of him, “I’m spending Christmas here with a...friend.” The line goes silent for a moment.

“A friend…” Tom tries the words out slowly. Harrison picks up a travel sized fleece blanket and adds it to the pile along with a few things from his list. “Harrison Osterfield, you’re the only lad I know who gets snowed in at an airport and picks up a girl.”

Harrison makes a dismissive sound, “Not like that. Just two lonely souls finding one another on Christmas Eve.” It sounds a bit dramatic and cliche even to his own ears. It makes him smile.

“A proper Hallmark movie, you are”

“Shut it Holland. She’s nice and she’s missing her family.” Harrison takes one last look around the store before handing his credit card to the cashier.

“Well, I’m still making some calls.”

“I figured you would.” Harrison takes his bags and fights back an eye roll.

Tom couldn’t help himself. He was one of those people born to be a helper and, if you asked Tom himself, he’d tell you he’d been blessed with the opportunity to help and so he would. Harrison wonders idly what you would do if Tom did come through with a room. Would you come along with him or would that be the end of your budding friendship. He’d had a good time talking to you. He’d loved how your eyes lit up when you spoke of your family, even if he saw a hint of sadness when you spoke about how long it had been since you’d been home, or when you’d slipped and admitted they weren’t always supportive of your pursuits. His family was the exact opposite, so was Tom’s. It was hard to imagine any family not wanting to put all their love and strength behind someone going after their dreams. It made him want to make a night of sleeping in an airport something fun and memorable for you.

“At this point I’m fine where I am man. Don’t worry so much. Did your Mum and Dad get in before the storms got bad?” He changes the topic to something Tom couldn’t help but talk about; his family.

Nikki and Dom Holland were supposed to fly in with Sam and Paddy to spend the holiday in Atlanta. Harry had been with Tom for the last month. It was the first time in recent memory they’d have the whole family back together.

“Thank God! Yes! I would have been a fucking mess if they’d gotten stranded.”

Harrison grins, “well tell them I say ‘hey’ and Merry Christmas.”

Tom rambles on for a few minutes about the dinner Sam was cooking and marveling over how big Paddy was getting before the conversation starts winding down. The sound of Paddy’s infectious laugh bleeds into the phone. “Hey, I’ve got a few things to do let me let you-”

“Sounds like a plan.” Tom cuts him off. Harrison can hear him holding back his youngest brother. He hears the youngest Holland asking ‘Is that Haz? I wanna talk to Haz!’. Tom sounds out of breath and Harrison can only imagine him spinning in circles and holding his baby brother at arms length. “Tell your new lady friend, Merry Christmas for me!”

Harrison laughs as the phone goes dead. He wanders slowly back toward the meeting spot. He hadn’t noticed when he was rushing around but the airport had been neatly decorated for the holidays. Faux pine garlands hung across most shops and the occasional wreath decorated the front of the different gate attendant’s stands.

A huge tree is simply decorated with white light and red and gold bulbs next to the massive Light up Boston sign created for tourist and instagram pictures. There’s a mother positioning a sulking teen in the gap where the ‘T’ should be.

“Come on Chad!” She encourages bringing her camera up. “Be the ‘T’. Put your arms out”.

Harrison snickers loud enough that the kids hears him while jutting his arms straight out at his sides. He doesn’t smile but the mother seems to get the picture she wants and tells her son how excited she was to put it in her scrapbook. The kid gives her a soft smile at this.

Harrison sees you already back in your spot as he gets closer. You’ve got your phone held up. You must be FaceTiming your family. You’d mentioned earlier that you’d planned on doing it. He can’t help but frown at your strained smile. Your jaw is tight and your free hand is balled into a fist in your lap.

His lips press into a firm line as crosses to you. Your eyes go wide as he appears next to you but you’re quick to turn your attention back to the woman on screen.

“I’m fine Mom. Really” you force the words out with another plastered on smile.

“You’re sleeping in an airport, I wouldn’t actually consider that fine.” Your mother's tone is reproachful, “why didn’t you just get a hotel room. You’re always putting yourself in these situatio-“

“Mom”

Harrison watches your cheeks flush red as he slides down into a sitting position next to you, his body just out of frame.

“It isn’t in the budget.”

He catches your eyes darting his way. You’re not sly. He lets his hand creep to your free one and gives it a little squeeze. You’re looking at your mother but your smile is suddenly less forced.

He feels yours fingers twine with his and give a gentle squeeze back. There’s a flurry of activity on screen and suddenly there’s other faces popping into screen, a dark haired man and a small boy’s face. Your smile widens as you see them.

“Auntie Y/N! Merry Christmas!”

“There’s my little bud-“

“Alright Y/N. Please be safe” your mother starts, effectively cutting you off. Harrison losses site of the new comers as your mother must turns the camera from them.

“Your brother and the kids just got here” she continues in “and I’m going to get them settled in”

“Oh...ok.” Harrison can hear the disappointment in your voice. He watches quietly as a flurry of ‘I love you’s’ flies back and forth before the screen cuts to black.

“You good, Darling?” Harrison asks after you put your phone away.

“Perfect.” You force out. It’s clipped but you smile widely and he doesn’t want to push it. Your eyes wander to the bags at his side and you lean closer. He chuckles and tucks them behind him.

“No peeking until Christmas.” He chides. Your smile turns to something much more natural as you laugh.

“Well fine than. You’re no fun.” You pout playfully before moving your own shopping bags into view.

Harrison watches you sit back, and begin pulling things out of a bag. “You ready for Christmas dinner?”

You dine on luke warm hot pockets that you’d instructed Harrison to pretend were meat pies. Baggies of fruit snacks are to be the substitute for cranberry sauce. He’d got a good laugh at the airport sized bottles of Baileys and rum you’d shown him hidden in your bag and stared at you curiously after everything had been packed and you’d all but dragged him through the terminal to Starbucks. You’d ordered two peppermint mochas and, as discreetly as possible, poured the contents of the bottles into each one.

“Boozy cocoa” you explained, with your arm looped in his while the pair of you strolled around the terminal. You drag him to a large window that looks out over the runways. The pair of you watch the plow trucks try to keep up with the snow.

“It’s pretty. Shitty, but pretty” you note and he laughs, watching you from the corner of his eye. The way the snow reflects the light leaves you softly lit. You're relaxed and leaning slightly into him.

“It’s gorgeous.”

#harrison osterfield #haz osterfield #harrison osterfield fic #haz osterfield fic #harrison/reader #fluff #hAve Yourself a Merry airport Christmas

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