#like this would’ve been my first ever holiday too and if this ends up in the worst possible case i will never even bother to try to go on | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nhlclover · 1 year ago

Text

𝐓𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 | 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

summary: you return to your small hometown for the winter holidays, encountering your high school boyfriend, luke.

warnings: maybe the tiniest bit of angst, kissing

a/n: based on ‘tis the damn season’ by taylor swift. genuinely one of my favourite things i've written

word count: 1.49k

In your small hometown, the snow fell softly, blanketing the streets and rooftops in a pristine white. It was that time of the year when the air was filled with the scent of pine and the merry sound of classic Christmas carols came from every small shop that lined the streets. Among the locals, there was a sense of anticipation and excitement, but for you, returning to your hometown for the holidays brought a mix of emotions.

You had moved away right after high school, desiring more in life than what your hometown could’ve offered you. When summer had ended, you moved to LA, finding your way in the busy city. The fast-paced lifestyle and bright city lights drew you in and you knew that this was the place for you.

Being in school as well as working a job there, you found yourself not coming home throughout your four years of undergrad, but rather your parents coming to visit a couple of times throughout the years. There wasn’t much of a reason to come to your hometown. The only reason you ever liked home was a non-factor now. You hadn’t heard from him since the day you left.

But now, freshly graduated and working as a freelance photographer, you’re finding yourself overcome with a sudden wave of nostalgia, pining for the comfort of a small town. You let your parents know, booking a flight home for the winter holidays.

Now that you’re back home, you feel a bittersweet sentiment about it. Every familiar spot in town carried a memory that you unconsciously buried long ago.

Walking down the main street, you window shopped, admiring all the festive decorations and knick-knacks they were selling. You dipped into the familiar coffee shop, a small business run by the family of one of your former classmates. You go to the front counter, admiring the case of pastries in front of you.

The bell above the door rings as someone steps in, letting in a cold burst of air. You shiver as it hits it, pulling your coat tighter around your body.

“Hey Corey, how’s it going?”

The voice was unmistakable, as your gaze shifted to the right, revealing Luke's tall silhouette. While the years had subtly etched maturity into his features, his voice retained its distinctive cadence. The unexpected reunion prompted a shiver, exacerbated by the cold burst of air coming from the door opening.

Luke looked at the figure next to him staring at him, surprised to see your face. You were possibly the last person he would’ve expected to see. He would’ve been less surprised to see the Pope standing next to him.

“Y-y/n.” Luke says.

“Hey, Luke,” you replied, a genuine smile on your lips. The exchange hung momentarily in the air, both of you acknowledging the unexpected nature of the encounter. “It’s good to see you.”

It took Luke a second to respond, still a little stunned by seeing you back home. “Yeah, yeah it’s good to see you too.” He says, eyeing your outfit. “You look good.”

Your clothing was an indication of the years that had gone by, now wearing clothing he never would’ve imagined being in your closet. The only semblance of the girl he once knew was in your scarf. The rainbow colour block scarf was a familiar garment for Luke as he was the one who had bought it for you, long ago when you celebrated Christmas together.

“Thank you, so do you.” You smile. “You’re not a teenager anymore, you’re actually like a man now.”

Luke chuckles, the smile on your face sends a rush of warmth through his veins. Even though he'd told himself and others that he had moved on, seeing you now it was clear that you never quite move on from your first love.

“You got a minute to spare? I’d love to sit down and catch up.” You say.

Luke doesn’t hesitate to agree, even paying for your peppermint hot chocolate as he remembered how much you loved it. The two of you sit down by the window, Luke asking the first question.

“What are you doing back here?” He asks you.

You furrowed your brows, chuckling lightly. “It is the holidays, Luke.” You say.

“That hasn’t been a reason for you before.” He shrugs.

You let his somewhat spiteful comment roll off your shoulders, instead choosing to reply sincerely. “Missed home. Wanted to come back and visit for a bit.”

Sitting here, across from your high school boyfriend, the memories flood back. You remember being attached at the hip, spending as much time together as your parents would let you. You would go to nearly every home game, sitting with his parents and cheering from the stands.

He was nearly constant made occupied by hockey, but he still managed to make time for the two of you, staying up till the early hours of the morning talking on the phone if that was the only option.

As the minutes passed, the years faded, and for a moment you felt like you were back in high school, navigating the awkwardness of young love. The conversation unfolded, revealing the divergent paths taken since your last encounter.

“Now I’m playing in New Jersey with Jack.” He tells you.

“No way!” You say. When you and Luke were in high school, he always told you it was his dream to eventually play with at least one of his brothers. Seeing that one of his dreams had become a reality, you feel a rush of pride for him.

“Yeah.” Luke smiles. “It’s such a cool city. And the guys are great. Once upon a time, you would’ve gotten along so well with one of the guys Dawson.”

You scoff. “What do you mean once upon a time?”

“Well, I think high school you would’ve gotten along with Dawson. You guys are both goofy and make jokes at inappropriate times… But now I’m not so sure.” Luke explains. “I think you’ve changed.”

You can’t help but let out a laugh. You hadn’t changed…had you?

“I have not changed.” You argue. “Plus, it’s been four years since we last saw each other. You don’t know me anymore.”

A confident smile forms on Luke’s face. “Oh please. I can still read you like an open book.”

You shake your head, although you know that’s probably true.

“C’mon, I wanna take you somewhere.” Luke says, getting up and putting his jacket back on.

You don’t question him, instead putting your coat and scarf back on, the scarf you’d come to remember had in fact been a gift from Luke long ago. You get in his car, a fancy new BMW he’d purchased with his new contract, and head down the backroads of your hometown.

Eventually, Luke pulls into the familiar parking lot of the Methodist church that sits right beside your high school, disturbing the pristine blanket of white snow that covered it.

“Prove to me you haven’t changed.” Luke says.

He gets out, standing in the headlights of the car. You question what he’s doing as he’s suddenly down on the ground and you can no longer see him. You get out and go to the front of the car, seeing Luke on the ground making a snow angel.

You let out a hearty laugh at the 6’2” boy making a snow angel in front of you, snow flying around him as he swiped it away.

“The old y/n would’ve beat me to it.” He teases, sweeping the snow aside using his limbs.

You get down to the ground, beginning to copy Luke's motions. You ignore your leggings beginning to become drenched from the snow, as well as the possible damage beginning to develop on your leather jacket. A giggle escapes your lips as the falling snowflakes land on your cheeks. Luke joins in on your laughter, the joint melodic sound echoing in the parking lot.

A few moments later, the pair of you stand up to admire your snow angels, although you realize they don’t look much like anything. You spin and face Luke who is now only inches away.

“I haven’t changed at all.” You say softly.

Luke turns to you, admiring the way snowflakes sat delicately on your hair and eyelashes. Your rosy cheeks were a sign of the cold that Luke had yet to really notice he was feeling. In that moment, surrounded by the echoes of your shared past and the beauty of the falling snow, Luke instinctively leans in.

His lips are so familiar to you, it’s as if the last four years of separation had never happened. Luke's cold fingers find your face, gently cupping it as yours grip onto his coat, holding him for balance.

As they stood there, back in each other's embrace beneath the gentle snowfall, it became clear that some things, no matter how much time had passed, were meant to find their way back to each other.

#luke hughes #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes x reader #new jersey devils #nhl #hockey #nhl imagine #hockey imagine

591 notes · View notes

frenziedfireworks · 1 year ago

Text

Party Nights

Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary : Reader goes to extreme lengths to ensure Fred's party is a success.

CW : Fem!Reader, making out, hints towards sex, alcohol & partying

If there was one thing the Weasley Twins knew how to do it was party. Their little celebrations had always been the talk whenever holidays or Quidditch were in season. Getting an invitation was also quite the hot commodity and people would go out of their way to be in line of sight of the twins - much to your dismay.

“George! Fred! Great to see you!” A hufflepuff girl passed by, winking and fluttering her eyes. You felt yourself want to gag.

“Well, aren't people so nice.” Fred snorted as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you along. You just rolled your eyes.

“Yeah because she’s just going out of her way to be nice. You don’t even know her name.”

“Wow! Someone is jealous! It’s okay Y/N you’re still my favorite girl.” Fred’s words made your stomach do a flip, quickly shaking it off. He was first and foremost your best friend. You never wanted your silly crush to ruin what you had with either of the twins.

“Well it’s a good thing you’re his favorite because you’re definitely not mine!” George grinned as you smacked his chest. He was always teasing the two of you.

“Yeah well you’re not my favorite either, George. Quite the opposite actually. I think I’d prefer Percy to you.” You snapped back and Fred’s laughter filled the halls.

“Percy?!” George mocked offense, hand flying to act as if he had fainted.

“Yeah you heard me.”

“I wish I hadn’t.” George and Fred continued making jokes as you followed to wherever they were going. It wasn’t long before all three of you stood in front of an old classroom door. Both boys had wicked smirks adorning their faces and mischief gleaming in their eyes.

“One of you want to fill me in? What are we doing staring at a raggedy old door?” Your questions fell on deaf ears as they looped their arms around your frame and yanked you in. The old room had been turned into something different altogether. One of the ancient desks held cups and a punch bowl. A dance floor lit up the dank stone walls and streamers littered from the ceiling. There was a small table filled with Weasley ‘delicacies’ that you knew would end up spreading like wildfire. After all, your boys were more genius than anyone ever gave them credit for.

“This looks nice!” You turned to find the boys staring at each other, supposedly deep in thought.

“Yes it does but something is missing.”

“Exactly what I was thinking Fred.”

“What could possibly be missing?” You sighed, knowing all too well you were about to be put to the test.

“Music.” Fred’s face contorted into a sad puppy, his eyes pleading.

“Merlin’s beard. What do you want me to do?”

“I knew you were my favorite for a reason! I really need you to go ask Hermione for her music player - please? I’ll do anything.”

Now you were intrigued. Fred had rarely made promises where he allowed for anything, knowing full well the trouble it could lead him into. It couldn’t possibly be hard to get Hermione’s music player - right?

—

Wrong. You were incredibly wrong and suddenly knew why Fred had promised anything. Trying to coax Hermione into letting you borrow the stereo was like watching paint dry. Incredibly tedious and her answer would not change.

“Mione-”

“Y/N I love you but I said no! I know you’re going to give it to the twins and I promised myself that I would not indulge their parties! You know exams are around the corner!”

You groaned and felt like pulling out your hair. Fred was relying and trusting you with a big part of his plans and if you failed you would feel like shit. You somehow had to convince Hermione to give you the stereo.

“Please. I’ll do anything!” You found yourself thinking back to only an hour ago when the same words left Fred’s mouth. You knew that Hermione also would’ve had a harsher consequence for Fred than she would for you. No wonder he had begged you to do it. Hermione shut her book and raised an eyebrow.

“Anything?” She questioned and you nodded aggressively.

“Anything! I promise.” You grabbed at her hands practically pleading.

“Fine. Let me go grab it and tell you what I want.” Hermione was quick on her feet and ran off. You were glad you were able to convince her within such a quick time. To be honest you were worried she wouldn’t have anything she needed.

“Here.” Hermione handed over the stereo and you happily took it. It was big and bulky but you could manage to get it back to the old classroom in time.

“So what do you want me to do? Steal some potion items or something?”

Hermione snorted and gave you a little grin. You had never seen her look so devious.

“No. I want you to tell Fred that you like him tonight.”

It was as if you had been punched in the chest. Out of any of your close friends that knew about your crush the least expected one to betray you was Hermione. Well, not betray, but more so force you into the unknown and risk losing your dear twins. You wanted to be mad but you knew better considering you had promised her anything. She was always pushing you to tell Fred but it was quite hypocritical considering her and Ron - not that you would mention that. You never wanted to be on the bad side of Hermione Granger.

“Fine. I’ll uh.. Let you know how it goes tomorrow.” You whispered and went on your way. Somehow you had to manage getting the stereo back to the boys, get dressed and sneak out to the party, and admit to Fred your absolute obsession with him.

—

“Y/N! Here let me have that.” George greeted and took the stereo off your hands. You were glad for that considering it felt like you had been walking around with a sack of rocks tied to your arms.

“Your girl got it! Can’t believe my eyes!” George yelled out to Fred who came out of an old cupboard. His face was covered in soot and his clothes looked like he had just enjoyed a mud bath.

“Don’t you look lovely. I’m off to get dressed too. Is the theme crawling in the chimney?” You laughed as Fred dusted himself off, cheeks going red from your comment.

“No but it can be if you want to match. I think we’d be sexy chimney sweepers.”

There was that charm that he somehow always knew how to use. You didn’t know how he somehow made a chimney sweeper sound so.. Romantic? Whatever. You had bigger worries to think about.

“Yeah, whatever you say. I’m going to change now. Bye!”

—

You had gotten back to your room without a hitch and stared at your closet. You had to choose something memorable if tonight was the last night you would ever see the Weasley Twins. Finally deciding on an outfit that was a little risqué you left your room. You casted the disillusionment charm and headed back down to the old classroom you had been in not an hour before.

Opening the door you were hit with the smell of sweat and alcohol. Everyone was pushing against eachother and cheering. Music played loud from the stereo and the twins were at the front near their kiosk.

“Y/N! Lovely to see you!” Angelina smiled and pulled you in for a quick hug. You could tell she was already drunk off whatever the twins had supplied.

“Lovely to see you too Angie! Having fun?” You questioned and she just nodded.

“Yeah! I hope to see you out on the dance floor!” She winked and made her way through the room. You had hoped she would spend a few more minutes with you because that was more time to drain instead of thinking about telling Fred. There was no way in hell you were going to do this completely sober either.

You made your way through the bustling crowd and fought with quite a few people before you were able to fill your cup. The punch was sweet and barely tasted alcoholic - dangerous. You knew if you drank too much before it hit you would be shitfaced by the end of the night.

“It’s super good, right?” You almost had a heart attack as you heard Ron right behind you. You glanced up at him and sighed.

“Way to scare the shit out of me! And yes it’s pretty good. Enjoying yourself without your girlfriend?” You teased the boy, watching as his freckled face lit up red.

“Could say the same about you. Having a few drinks before you go kiss up on dearest Freddie?” Ron raised an eyebrow as you let out a defeated sigh. It wouldn’t hurt to tell him about everything…

“It’s going to be a shit night Ronald.”

“Why? What’s wrong?” Ron was surprisingly kind when you were serious with him and opened up. Maybe he was a bit inept with feelings but he really tried his best.

“Well.. Fred made me get the stereo from Hermione. To be able to get it I promised her to do anything and well.. She told me that I had to tell Fred..” You mumbled off. Ron’s eyes widened a minuscule bit and chuckled.

“Brutal isn’t she? If you need any help getting out you always have Harry and I.” Ron gave you a heartwarming pat and began to wander off. So much for moral support..

—

“And do tell what my best girl is doing here all alone being ditched by my little brother?” Fred’s form engulfed you from behind. His lips dusted against the shell of your ear and sent a pleasant shiver up your spine.

“Looking for you actually.” You decided to get it over with. There’s no better time than the present. You turned in his hold and met his gorgeous face. The usual smirk adorned it and within the strobe lights his eyes seemed to glow like lanterns.

“What can I do for you then? Offer you another drink or cure your boredom?” You could only wish that could be your answer. It would be much easier to drink the night away with him than heartbroken without him.

“Uh no. Not yet at least. I really need to tell you something. Can we go someplace a bit more quiet?” Fred bobbed his head and dragged you along. Before you knew it you were shuffling into a broom closet. Fred was way more close for comfort than you would’ve wished and it only added to your nervousness. How the hell did you get this far?!

“So…” Fred started.

“So…”

The two of you sat in awkward silence for a few seconds before laughter struck.

“What in the world did you pull me into a broom closet to tell me?” Fred choked out and you groaned. It was time to finally rip the bandaid off.

“Well you see.. I have had this feeling for you for a while now.” You grumbled out and stared at your feet. If the proximity didn’t kill you then his glance definitely would.

“Right. A bad feeling or good feeling? Because I usually cause a lot of those.” Fred joked and you smacked at his arm. You couldn’t believe his sarcastic ass.

“Good! Very good actually. I- Oh fuck me. I really like you.” Now it was all out in the open and you wanted to shrink away. There wasn’t any going back and you could only hope he would have some mercy on your soul.

“Y/N, I've been flirting with you for like two years. I obviously like you too.” Fred’s hand rubbed against the flesh of your arm creating goosebumps all over.

“What?” You spluttered out still confused. There was no way he had been flirting for that long. You would have to be as daft as Ronald!

“I call you my favorite girl and you think that’s me being kind?” Fred’s hand rubbed against your cheek, finger dragging ever so slowly against your lip.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

Your fantasies were finally fulfilled as his warm lips met yours. Fred was an impatient man and yet he took his sweet time to work you into the kiss, hands pushing you against the stone wall. His tongue lapped at your lips for permission and you relented. He tasted of chocolate and alcohol - fitting and tantalizing. His tongue prodded yours making the moment even more intimate.

“This is all I’ve been wanting for so long.” Fred’s voice was deep and you could barely think.

“Me too.” You whispered and yanked at his shirt for more. He laughed into the kiss, hands running up and down your sides. He separated from your lips much sooner than you had wished and pecked at your forehead.

“As much as I would love to take you in a closet I was thinking maybe something more romantic? I also have a party I am hosting right now.. Maybe we can go kiss in there for a while?”

You pretended to think for a while as you adjusted your clothes and hair before nodding.

“I suppose I can go back with you. But I think you owe me later after the whole stereo fiasco..” Your fingers trailed his bare arm and you could feel him shake.

“My ever so generous girlfriend I would be delighted to do whatever you wish.” Fred shot you a wink that set butterflies aflame in your stomach. You linked arms with your newfound boyfriend and set off back to the party.

You definitely had to thank Hermione in the morning.

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #weasley twins #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #fred weasley x you #weasley twin imagines

736 notes · View notes

chelseachilly · 5 months ago

Text

serenity

pairing: reader x ben chilwell a/n: just a quick little fic bc i needed to write something after ben's photo dump yesterday lol, and to get the writing juices flowing after way too long! i have a much longer fic that's almost done which i can't wait to share with you all soon 🤍 warnings: none, just fluff! word count: 1k

benchilwell via stories

yourusername via stories

You’re not sure if you’ve ever been so content as you are right now.

You’ve always loved summer holidays, but never more than since you started dating Ben. He’s so busy throughout the year that you often get very little time together, so when the season ends, you’re more than ready for some uninterrupted relaxation with your boyfriend.

You know it’s bittersweet this year, as you were both hoping that Ben would make the Euros squad after a somewhat disappointing season and more injuries. You truly believe he deserved to be there, but you’ve decided there’s no point in dwelling on what could’ve been. So despite the letdown of Ben missing out on another major tournament, you’ve both made the most of your holiday so far.

After he went to the F1 in Monaco with the boys, you met up with him and a few of his mates in the Caribbean for the week. You’re all staying at a gorgeous private villa that took your breath away when you first saw it. It’s now your last night here before Ben flies to Marrakech for some time with his family and you have to go back to London for work, which you’re absolutely dreading after the most perfect week with him.

You’re currently curled up with Ben on a lounge chair, just the two of you alone on the gorgeous terrace with an infinity pool overlooking the ocean. The sun is setting, and you’ve never felt more at peace.

“I don’t wanna leave this place,” you sigh, burying your face in his neck.

After a long day of swimming and snorkelling off the boat provided by the villa, you’re both tired and enjoying the tranquility of this moment. The rest of your group is inside watching the day’s Euros highlights, and you know Ben would’ve done the same and ended up lost in his own bad thoughts if you let him. Instead, you grabbed him by the hand after dinner and dragged him out here, receiving no complaints from him as you laid down almost completely on top of him with your legs intertwined and your arm around his waist.

“I don’t want you to leave,” Ben counters, and you know what argument he’s going to make. “Come with me to Morocco. Alex and my mum would love it if you came.”

“Babe, you know I would if I could,” you tell him sincerely. “But I can’t take any more time off right now. I’m sorry.”

Ben already knows this, so he doesn’t argue you further, though you know he wants to. He just tugs you slightly closer to him and drops a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Promise you’ll call me every day, though? I want to live vicariously through you while I’m back to the boring office life,” you murmur, your cheek pressed to his chest.

What you really mean is that you want to check in on him every day, to make sure he’s not going down the rabbit hole of regret and self-loathing like he has in the past. You hate that you can’t be there with him in person for the entire summer break, but you’ll be damned if you don’t do everything in your power to make sure he’s okay, even from afar.

“I will,” Ben agrees, slipping his hand under the t-shirt of his that you’re wearing and gently rubbing the skin of your lower back. “You don’t have to worry about me, baby.”

You know he can see it in your furrowed brow when someone talks about football and your overly clingy behaviour this week that you’re concerned about him.

“I love you too much to not worry, Ben,” you say, a slight shiver running up your spine as he continues to caress your skin.

“I know,” Ben says with another kiss to your head. “And that’s why I’m the luckiest man alive. But I swear I’m okay. It was a bit tough to take at first, but I can’t really complain when I’m in paradise with my best mates and my girl.”

“I’m glad you’ve had a good holiday, you deserve it,” you smile. “What was your favourite bit?”

“Hmm…convincing Tom we saw a shark while we were swimming today was up there,” he chuckles, making you laugh as remember the sheer look of terror on your friend’s face. “I think he might’ve pissed himself.”

“I think he’s still mad at us,” you laugh. “Worth it, though.”

“But mostly just being here with you,” Ben says softly, running a hand through your hair as you pull back and rest your head on his chest to look at him properly. “I love you so much, Y/N.”

You cup his face with one hand, running your thumb across the beard he’s grown out a bit and staring into his eyes. There’s a stunning view of the sun setting over the shimmering blue sea just to your right, but you think you prefer this one.

“I love you, too.”

Ben smiles before leaning in and kissing you, your lips meeting gently. It’s a slow, drawn-out kiss, neither of you wanting this moment to end.

“We should go inside and pack,” you mutter when you pull away, painfully aware of your early flight tomorrow.

“In a few minutes,” Ben says, wrapping his arms around you completely and pulling you back into his chest. “Let’s enjoy this a little while longer.”

You allow yourself to relax into his embrace, humming in contentment as he continues to stroke your hair.

Your real life and responsibilities may be awaiting you back in London, but for tonight, you’re going to soak up every last second of this serenity with your boyfriend.

yourusername

liked by benchilwell, masonmount and others yourusername Perfect week, missing this place (and this boy) already 🤍🌴 view all comments benchilwell Love you ❤️ sophiaaemelia looks like paradise! miss you 🫶🏼

benchilwell

liked by yourusername, madders and others benchilwell Serenity. view all comments yourusername 😍🥰❤️ masonmount Love it mate!

a/n: please let me know if you liked this, all comments/feedback appreciated 😊

#ben chilwell #ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell imagine #ben chilwell x y/n #my fics #chelsea fc imagine

66 notes · View notes

levithestripper · 2 years ago

Text

romantic headcanons with peeta mellark

masterlist

warnings: fluff, gender-neutral reader.

length: 1k || read on ao3 || join my taglist

notes: rewatched the movies again and you can guess what happened from there.

peeta with a crush is singlehandedly the cutest thing you’ve had the privilege of witnessing. he’s super awkward around you, practically tripping over his own feet before he discovers his confidence.

his favorite date activity is picnics! he enjoys sitting under a shady tree and watching the clouds roll by, soaking up the sun’s rays with you by his side. more often than not, he’ll fall asleep there too. hands behind his head, one knee in the air, chest slowly rising up and down.

peeta is the biggest cuddler you’ll ever meet, hands down. sitting together? he has an arm around your waist and his head on your shoulder. sitting across from each other at a table? you can feel his knee pressed against yours. walking together? he laces his fingers with yours every chance he gets.

you’ll find yourself with more forehead kisses than you know what to do with. not that you’re complaining.

he teaches you how to dance! when peeta was little, his mother would put on a record and dance with him in the living room. there weren’t many records—or record players—left in district twelve, so his mother took great care of her small collection. his favorite was a love song by elvis presley. he nor his mother knew anything about the artist, but it didn’t stop them from getting lost in the singer’s words. years later, peeta plays that same song when teaching you how to dance. listening to the lyrics now, with you in front of him, peeta finally understands what elvis had been telling him all this time. he really can’t help but fall in love with you.

this boy is the biggest sap in the entirety of panem. he handmakes you cards, drawing cute doodles around the words he writes. sometimes you swear he’s making up new ‘holidays’ just as an excuse to make you a card. he looks so cute when he says, ‘did you know today is hug your partner day? the capitol declared it a national holiday!’ so you can’t help but go along with it.

not only does he create new holidays, but he also says random days are ‘national [blank] day.’ in the mellark household, mondays are ‘national breakfast in bed day,’ wednesdays are ‘national sleep past noon day,’ thursdays are ‘national kisses day,’ and sundays are ‘national candlelight dinner day.’ you’ll never admit it, but secretly, you love it when he uses excuses like ‘national kisses day’ to kiss you more than he already does. you tease him about it all the time, but it only backfires, as peeta gives it right back.

it doesn’t matter how long the two of you have been dating, peeta will still flirt with you like it’s the first time he’s laid eyes on you. he’ll lean against the closest piece of furniture, chin resting in the palm of his hand, proceeding to use only the cheesiest pick-up lines he could think of. you play along, of course, something you’re more than happy to do. the game ends when peeta asks you out on a ‘first date,’ and he cheers when you say yes.

you can always tell when peeta wakes up from a nightmare. he presses himself into your side, his head on your chest or pressed into the crook of your neck.

peeta will hurl compliments at you all day, but the minute you give it back to him, his face lights up like a strawberry. at the start of the relationship, he had a tough time accepting praise, regardless of what he did to receive it. he’d always subtly deflect it somehow, saying it was ‘no big deal, really!’ or ‘don’t mention it, anyone would’ve done the same.’ with your help—and a never-ending wave of admiration—peeta slowly grew more comfortable accepting the accolades he deserves.

if it wasn’t obvious, he loves all things domestic. something he loves about it is when he has together-alone time with you. each doing your own thing in the same room, silently keeping the other company while they work.

i’ve said this before, but peeta has multiple sketchbooks filled with drawings and half-finished sketches of you. peeta never tells you when he’s sketching you, claiming he prefers a ‘candid, more natural’ look to his portraits. once he fills a sketchbook, you’ll cuddle up next to him as he eagerly shows you everything he’s completed.

peeta’s love language is physical touch, acts of service, and gift-giving! (if that wasn’t obvious enough already). you almost regret telling him your favorite dessert/meal because peeta ensures you’ll never go without it, cooking/baking whatever it is whenever you mention you have a taste for it. you can’t help but love it and him.

as for physical touch, if it wasn’t clear before, peeta’s a top-rate cuddle partner. but his love for closeness manifests itself in different ways, too. back rubs, for one, are a prime example. he starts at the base of your neck, having just finished running his hands through your hair. from there, he rubs down the ridge of your spine, his thick, calloused fingers hitting the best spots every time. it never fails to turn you into a pile of mush, something peeta is (not so secretly) proud of.

with gift-giving, don’t always expect these extravagant, over-the-top presents that cost more than either of you make in a year. if he knows there is something expensive you’ve been yearning for, he’ll save up some cash to surprise you with it. typically, you’re gifted things like a bouquet of flowers, a new book, or something interesting/unique he found at the hob. you’ve slowly begun to fill a shoebox worth of stuff he’s given you over the years.

after you get out of the shower, under the guise of ‘helping you dry your hair,’ he’ll brush through it, detangling any knots still present. to be completely honest, peeta was playing with your hair more than actually drying it. you’re not in any place to complain; you do the same thing to peeta after his showers.

505 notes · View notes

always-andromeda · 11 months ago

Text

⋆⁺. ❅ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 ❅ .⁺⋆

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⟡ Joel Miller x F!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⟡ 3.6k

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⟡ With Sarah away for the holidays for the first time ever, Joel is stuck without a single clue as to what to do for Christmas. That is when you decide to show him the most wonderful time of all. ♡

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ⟡ Hey, Jana (@janaispunk)!! I'm your Secret Santa!! I really liked your prompts, so I ended up going with a little bit of almost all of them. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to write some absolute tooth rotting fluff and hopefully you enjoy some of the creative liberties I took!! I am a massive fan of your writing so I hope from the bottom of my heart that you enjoy this little piece!! Happy Holidays!! (divider credits go to @saradika-graphics)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⟡ absolute fluff, bits of angst (Joel misses his daughter and has a hard time adjusting ;-;), no actual smut but there are a few suggestive moments (regardless, minors, please do not interact), no outbreak universe, mentions of Sarah sprinkled throughout but no mentions of Ellie whatsoever, mentions of alcohol consumption, non-religious celebration of Christmas, overall it's a decent helping of fluff with Joel learning to enjoy the holidays in a new way.

Sarah wasn’t coming home for Christmas.

When she had first called to deliver the news, Joel hadn’t known how to reply. He gave a curt affirmation and listened to go on about Christopher and everything pertaining to him. Christopher’s sister was going to take her shopping. Christopher’s parents owned horses. Christopher was going to take her to see a production of A Christmas Carol after having dinner at one of the nicest restaurants in town. Christopher, Christopher, Christopher.

The protective father in him was glad. Hell, he was overjoyed that she’d managed to find a guy who was so good to her. But the lonely, single father in him was…deflated.

For two decades she’d been home for the holidays. Year by year, no matter what changed, she was the one constant. There she was, dragging him off the couch to make cookies – because no matter how old she got, Sarah always insisted upon leaving some out for Santa. They’d watch Christmas movies and drink hot chocolate and for that moment in time…everything was wonderful. It didn’t matter how the business was doing or what kind of trouble Tommy had gotten himself into. Joel had his little girl. And for the longest time, he told himself that that was all he needed.

He tried not to let it bother him too much. Work kept him busy enough. He took pride in being one of the few contractors in town who’d take work with the holidays looming so closely. But he knew he wouldn’t be able to avoid the celebration forever. Especially when you started questioning, “What are we doing this year?”

For the last two years you’d joined him and Sarah on their yearly tradition: takeout and Christmas movies. It had been the time of his life, spending Christmas Eve with his favorite girls and waking up to you beside him on Christmas morning while Sarah made cinnamon rolls. And before Christopher came into the picture, he could’ve replayed that Christmas over and over again and he never would’ve gotten sick of it.

The first time you asked about plans, he evaded it, giving some vague excuse about not knowing what his schedule was going to look like.

The days flew by and your tone grew more impatient until one day, while you sat in the passenger seat of his truck, your question turned into, “Joel, what’s going on?”

He’d just pulled into his driveway. If he wanted, he could dodge the question again. He could get out of the truck and slam the door behind him, putting an end to the conflict before it even had the chance to begin.

Then he risked a glance at you. Already, your brow was furrowing in frustration. A solid pang of guilt thumped heavily in his chest. He really couldn’t afford to avoid this one.

“I just–” he hesitated, not knowing how to word it; not wanting to embarrass himself. “Usually Sarah would be home and–”

“Oh…” you trailed off, obviously detected.

Joel quickly added, “I’m sorry. I’m just used to her bein’ here.” You still wouldn’t meet his eye. He softened his tone before carefully taking your hand in his. “Listen, darlin’, it’s not that I don’t wanna spend the holidays with you. Believe me, I do. It’s just that I haven’t had a holiday without that girl in so long. I ain’t even sure what I’m supposta’ do.”

You nodded solemnly, voice quiet but rigid as you replied, “I get that.”

Joel sighed. “I raised that girl for her entire life. Every year I had to figure out what a girl her age might want for Christmas. An’ every single year she’d get all excited waitin’’ for Christmas mornin’. Gettin’ to see that girl smile as she opened up her presents…I don’t think I’ll ever forget that.”

Finally, you spared him a look as he stared off into space, his eyes getting a tad misty from the memories.

He met your gaze, smiled wistfully, and swallowed the lump in his throat, “I just miss my little girl. I don’t know what else to do.”

“I’m sorry, Joel.” You squeezed his hand reassuringly and managed to put on a smile with pursed lips. Even if you didn’t understand exactly how he felt, he was grateful for the compassion. If he had told Tommy or one of the guys on his crew…hell, he didn’t think he’d have been able to express it in the first place.

But they wouldn’t have accepted those emotions like that. Tommy especially probably would’ve offered to take him out for a few drinks later to forget about it all. And sometimes Joel didn’t mind that. But something told him that this wasn’t something Joel could just drink to forget about.

You continued suddenly, “How would you feel if I came up with some activities for just the two of us? Every day this week leading up to Christmas, we’ll do one thing. And you can opt out on whatever days you want if you have something else in mind. Let’s just have a quiet, gentle Christmas, okay?”

Sarah was only going to get older. And if things with Christopher went well enough…there were going to plenty of Christmases without her to come. Joel had to accept that sooner rather than later.

And that was how the so-called Wonderful Week began.

Day one was simple enough, or so it seemed.

In all of his grief, Joel hadn’t really thought to put up the Christmas tree. After all, that was something he usually did with Sarah. And he’d done a pretty damn good job at avoiding anything relating to her for the first half of December. But if there was any hallmark of the season, a tree was most definitely the big one.

So he wasn’t incredibly surprised when he came home from work to see a massive box sitting in his living room.

“Hey, what’s this box for?” he called out in the house as he set his keys down in the dish beside the front door.

You emerged from the kitchen, smiling ear to ear, two whiskey glasses filled with a milky substance in your hands.

“Hey, you!”

“Hey?” Joel cocked an eyebrow, noticing the bright red Santa hat on your head. “What the hell do we have here?”

That only seemed to make you smile wider. Your eyes lit up as you walked across the living room and handed him one of the whiskey glasses. “What we have…is a brand new Christmas tree,” you answered proudly, pausing and waiting for his reaction.

Joel only squinted before stating, “I still got a perfectly good tree in the garage that you coulda’ dragged out.”

“Perfectly good?”

“Perfectly good,” he affirmed.

“Joel, remember when we put that thing up last year? Almost all of the lights were completely burnt out. Remember how we had to go buy a separate string of lights? And remember how much you hated putting them on and taking them off? You’ve had that old thing since–”

“Since Sarah was little,” he answered curtly.

“Yeah…” you trailed off. Your smile turned sheepish and Joel could practically see the gears turning in your mind, wondering if you’d stepped over the line.

Joel shot another hard glance at the box that sat smack dab in the middle of his living room. It seemed to challenge him. Was he really going to get this hung up over an old tree? Or was he going to take this opportunity in stride?

He looked back at you. You and your little Santa hat with the white puff ball at the end resting elegantly on your shoulder. Then there were your hands, nervously fiddling with the smooth edges of your whiskey glass. His gaze swept up to your hope-filled eyes that were awkwardly searching him for some sign of tension. He couldn’t be upset at any of that. You were only trying to cheer him up. What kind of Grinch would he be to get upset with a creature as gorgeous and lovely as you?

With a deep breath, Joel spoke, “Well. If we’re gonna put this thing together tonight…might as well get started, I suppose.”

At that, your whole being seemed to practically glow. You set your drink down on the coffee table before making your way to the box to cut at the tape holding it closed.

Joel took a swig of his drink. Egg-nog spiked with something. Another sip made him realize it was Kahlúa. He snickered and shook his head.

That was another little thing you’d gotten him into. Joe was firmly a hard liquor sort of guy until you insisted that if he liked plain coffee, he should at least try coffee liqueur. Sure enough, he liked it. Most of the time you were right about stuff like this. And here you were doing it all over again with this silly tree.

Before too long, you’d both lifted each section of the tree from its cardboard confines and nestled them on top of each other before locking them into place. Joel normally hated fluffing out the tree, and it certainly wasn’t made any better considering it was fresh out of the box. But the liqueur and the Christmas music you’d turned on and had softly playing in the background added a little ease to the task.

The best part was definitely adding the ornaments. Thankfully, you’d stuck with the old box of ornaments that he’d kept beside the old tree in the garage. For a moment he was grateful you hadn’t gone as far as getting brand new ornaments too.

He liked the old ones ten times more than he liked the old tree.

Of course there were random filler baubles in various shades of red, green, silver, and gold. But the ones that got to him were the handmade ones. Some of those went back thirty or even forty years. He pulled out a flat clay sculpture of a dog painted in blue that had faded significantly over the decades. Joel ran his finger over the words on the back.

Thomas Miller, 1980

Tommy had only been seven years old. His art teacher had just fired all of the ceramic ornaments the kids made before going off for winter break. Joel only vaguely remembered the day his little brother came home with that ornament in hand. But he remembered all too well how every year since he’d hit adulthood his brother would take a little glance at the little sculpture and proclaim that it was the best goddamn thing he’d ever made with his own two hands.

“Because I made it for my big brother,” he’d say in a faux sentimental tone. But underneath the machismo and the teasing, Joel knew that it really did mean a great deal to Tommy. Which was why he was still hanging it up thirty years later.

However, the next one made him stop in his tracks. Joel carefully pulled the ornament out from under a layer of bubble wrap. Though it was also made by Tommy,

Sarah’s first Christmas hadn’t been the easiest. Her mother had just left and money was tight. Joel had been taking every job he possibly could to scrape together money for rent and the necessities. Tommy was still in high school and had his own life to live, yet he always offered to babysit Sarah after he got out of class.

That year, Joel hadn’t had the time to worry about the holidays. Little did he know that Tommy had been saving up since Halloween to get a little tree and some cheap plastic ornaments. But the cherry on top of it all was the one other ornament that Tommy made.

It was a small circle of clay, just big enough to fit in the palm of his hand. Right in the center was a little footprint. Words carved into the clay underneath it said: Sarah’s First Christmas, 1988.

Joel could picture it then, fifteen year old Tommy carefully pressing his niece’s foot into the clay before rewarding her with Cheerios. That period of time forged them into something greater than brothers, Joel thinks. It made them Sarah’s protectors. The ones who would always make sure she was taken care of. And no matter how old she got, that would always be true.

Right as tears started welling in his eyes from the memory, he felt your hand brush his shoulder. “You alright, Joel?” you spoke softly.

“Look at this one,” he answered hoarsely before showing you the ornament.

To his delight, you smiled tenderly and asked, “Where did that come from?”

Much of the night went that way with Joel telling stories about the various ornaments that were in his box and you telling stories about the ones that were in yours. After another drink, he found himself loosening up even more.

The two years prior hadn’t exactly been like this. Both of those Christmases happened before you’d moved in. Back then you were merely observing his and Sarah’s celebrations. This year was different though. This time…you and him were making up your own celebrations.

In the days following, Joel found himself looking forward to whatever you had planned. It was a relief to know at the end of a long day, he’d get to come home to you waiting with some new trick up your sleeve.

Day two immediately presented a challenge in the form of two gingerbread house kits. Because, you argued, who better to construct a gingerbread house than a contractor? Joel couldn’t help but snicker and roll his eyes when you pulled out a level and the tape measure from his tool kit.

“Think you got this wall straight, Miller?” you joked, holding the level up to the solid cookie wall.

“You’re funny.”

“Just making sure everything is all even,” you shrugged. “One would hope that the big fancy contractor would care that his gingerbread house was up to code.”

Day three was a bit of an unexpected one. You finally got him to load up the boxes of old clothing and other odds and ends that had been gathering dust in his garage for far too long. Joel kept telling himself he’d donate them some weekend but continually forgot. So of course you were the one to remind him by remarking how important it was to give a little for the holidays.

It was a little bittersweet, especially since a good chunk of it was stuff Sarah had gotten rid of before moving out for college. Joel was all too aware that there was a small part of him that feared that the second he gave it all away, his daughter would definitely be calling him up just begging to have that butterfly tank top she wore in fifth grade back. But he also knew that that probably wasn’t going to happen.

So bye-bye went the dusty boxes of hand-me-downs, off to homes that could appreciate them again.

Day four brought popcorn garlands. He opted out of spiked drink for that one, knowing that he needed a steady hand if he was going to be able to thread delicate little pieces of popcorn onto some string. However, with his thick fingers, he still managed to poke himself with the crafting needle.

And really, making the garland was soon forgotten by the dozenth time you grabbed his injured hand to kiss it better. Joel really didn’t need any sort of alcohol in his system to start feeling lightheaded before pulling you into his lap for a bruising kiss.

By the end of the night, both of your garlands were only long enough to hang in a single doorway. But that was just fine with Joel.

Day five was Christmas Eve. Another night where he was sure you had something big planned – he later learned that you originally wanted to make Christmas cookies. But Joel was never any good with the whole cooking and baking thing. And tonight seemed as good of a night as any to take a load off.

“What will Santa eat when he comes down the chimney?” you protested in a teasing tone.

Joel scoffed, “Santa can starve for all I care. Tonight, I want to settle down and relax with my lady.”

“Lady,” you rolled your eyes. “Who are you calling lady?”

“You, Little Miss Christmas. Now go put your pajamas on. We’re gonna have a nice night in and you’re gonna like it.”

You laughed one deep laugh from your belly and replied, “Yes, sir.”

The next time you showed your face downstairs, Joel had planted himself firmly on the carpet with a box of old photos.

“Whatcha’ got there?” you asked as you folded your legs and settled beside him, resting your head on his shoulder.

Joel glanced over, catching the tail end of a wide eyed expression on your face as you peeked over his shoulder.

“What’s that look for?” he chuckled.

Joel tilted the photo in your direction. It was a picture of you and him from the year prior; the second Christmas you spent with him. You were ice skating, Joel standing firmly behind you, one hand placed firmly on your hip and the other wrapped around you, keeping you from completely falling over.

“I didn’t know you got a picture from that night,” you mumbled.

“Oh,” Joel set the photo down and picked up a small, leather bound album from the box in front of him. “Sarah took a whole buncha’ pictures that night. They’re some of my favorites.”

“Really?”

Joel didn’t miss the sentimentality in your tone. He himself had almost forgotten that Sarah had brought her camera along that year. She’d taken a photography class during her freshman year of college; so it was practically attached to her almost every time she came home that semester.

She’d surprised him with the album a few months afterwards, raving about how adorable you and him had looked the entire night. I’ve never seen you get so sappy about a woman before, she’d teased him before adding, but it’s kinda cute, ya know?

Joel had brushed it off then, putting it with the rest of his old family photos. But over time it quickly began to mean something more.

He’d lost count of how many times he’d pulled that little book out and flipped through the photos. And now, for the first time you were looking at them with him.

“Really,” he asserted. “You look real pretty in all of ‘em.”

And God, did he mean it. On the next page was one of you wearing this red, satin number at a dinner party. He could easily remember the way that the material practically flowed down your curves like water. And he remembers the way his attraction for you pooled heavily in his belly and the way he had to make himself stay cool until he could get you home and get that outfit off of you himself.

The shot right next to that one was from the same dinner party. Joel had a can of whipped cream in one hand and a dollop of the stuff in the other. And there you were, attempting to lick at the smear of whipped cream on your nose.

He showed you the album and you grimaced before smiling sheepishly, “God, I can’t believe Sarah got that moment.”

God, that smile, Joel thought to himself. He could never get tired of that smile.

“Yeah,” Joel nodded. “I’m glad she did. I tell ya’, that girl can really capture the beauty in a moment.”

You started to speak, “You say beauty…I say–”

“Beauty,” Joel repeated. “You’re beautiful. And that’s that.”

You were quiet for a few seconds as Joel continued to flip through the album. The more little moments he remembered from the year before, the more gratitude welled up in his chest. And before he could really control it, his mouth was moving.

“You know I’m glad I get to spend time with you, right?”

“Oh, that’s good. After last night I was sure that you were just sick of me,” you quipped.

“I mean it,” Joel said with a playful nudge at your side. “I know I’m not the easiest guy to get along with. I’m old and I’m ornery and I’m probably a real pain in the neck sometimes. And the fact that you’re willin’ to put up with a pain in the neck like me…especially around this time a’ year…it means a lot. Everything you’ve done this week…all for me? I’m grateful, darlin’.”

Your expression faltered and you batted your eyelashes, gaze fixed on your hands in your lap.

“I just like taking care of you. I like making you happy,” you murmured.

Joel turned his head and leaned in, closing the distance between your faces.

“Good thing you always make me happy, darlin’,” he mumbled against your lips.

As he pressed a kiss against your lips, his hand settled on the small of your back, pulling you into his arms. The little photo album dropped between his legs and was soon forgotten, the same way a lot of his worries for the holidays had as soon as you came in.

At that moment…he didn’t think about Sarah. Didn’t think about her never spending another holiday in his home again. She'd come back home at some point, just like his worries probably would; he’d always worry about his little girl. Though he wouldn’t forget the years of memories he’d had before you, he wouldn’t let himself dwell on them for so long that he forgot about you. Your presence was more than enough of a present for him.

#˚ʚ meda writes ɞ˚#space sisters secret santa 2023 #pedro pascal #the last of us hbo #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic

139 notes · View notes

ohii-san · 11 months ago

Text

UNKNOWN HOLY NIGHT AND NIGHTHEAD - WHITE CAROL 1

( The next day )

Rinne: Achoo!

Ah… My body’s cold, and my wallet is too…[1]

I shoulda stopped at my first win. If I’d just stopped pushing there, I’d be a lot happier right about now~...

Niki: ♪ ( Eating sweets happily )

Rinne: Hey. You look so happy. Don’t get too excited over that big win of yours, ‘kay?

Niki: Ah. Just ‘cause you lost doesn’t mean you can take it out on me, Rinne-kun!

I mean, Rinne-kun’s the reason I came here in the first place. Isn’t that cruel to say? I’m the one who gave in and went out with you, ya know?

Rinne: Ah, jeez~. Why’d Niki get such a victory while I’m left broke? No matter how I look at it, that feels wrong…

Niki: Well there’s no helping that, ‘cause it’s just the way things are, isn’t it?

I did it just like Rinne-kun told me, I aimed for the hole in the middle… Wasn’t that the point, to aim right there?

‘Cause then, before I knew it, a bunch of balls came out.

Rinne: Tch! That’s just beginner’s luck.

Ah, I’m so depressed. I give so much to that place, compared to ya…

Why’re they being kinder to some amateur first-timer than me, a regular customer… They’ve got an obligation to treat me well, don’t they?

Niki: Mogumogu. Of course Rinne-kun would be looking for kindness and fairness from a pachinko parlor. I wonder if this is the rumored sensor of material desire I heard about?[2]

Rinne: … Don’t look so happy eatin’ those sweets you won, c’mon. And they’re only a fraction of your winnings…

Hey, since I’m the one who invited you out here, those are rightfully mine too. Share them with me!

Niki: Eh?! That’s ridiculous, what kinda argument is that?! … Ah, you’ve seriously taken them already?!

Rinne: Mogumogu… I’m really depressed, so can’t ya be nicer to me?

Look around, everyone around seems happy and probably luckier than me, to boot. Am I the only unhappy person in the whole world? Ah… The world truly is cruel and dark.

Niki: Ah, well~. Don’t start being annoying to everyone around just ‘cause you’ve got bad luck, ‘kay?

Look, look. I want you to look around. There’s Christmas decorations all over the place. Even the sweets I got at the pachinko parlor were Christmas themed, see?

Niki: So, what do you think? Doesn’t it lift your spirits?

Rinne: … Ah? Come to think of it, I guess it’s true everything’s all decorated for Christmas… Isn’t it kinda early for that, though? It’s only November.

Niki: Eh? It’s just like this everywhere lately, though. Even Cinnamon’s begun taking reservations for Christmas cakes.

Rinne: Hm. So it’s Christmas…

Niki: That’s a pretty underwhelming response~. Weren’t you really excited for the Halloween event?[3]

Rinne: That’s ‘cause as the leader, if I don’t keep things lively, our morale as a unit’s not gonna go up either. Besides, if I’m gonna do something as an idol, I gotta make the most of it and enjoy it to the fullest, right?

Niki: Right, Rinne-kun’s just like that, huh~?

He pretends to be a pretty lively kinda guy, but he’s surprisingly calm-headed– or level-headed, rather. You’ve been that way since you started crashing at my apartment…

Rinne: But everyone’s like that. As long as I’m doing this kinda work, I’ve gotta control myself and be conscious of my energy.

Rinne: Besides, as long as I’m with Niki, there’s no need to force myself to act excited.

Niki: That’s true. So then, is Rinne-kun really not interested in Christmas at all?

Rinne: Eh. It’s not really like that…

I don’t mind if we do a live for it or something. It’s just a holiday that never made it into my hometown.

Ever since joining the idol industry, I’ve been given year-end schedules that didn’t gimme any time for Christmas. Besides, to be honest, I don’t have any memory of enjoying it either.

If you go to a pachinko place on that day, you’ll still get all your money sucked away and go home just as sad and lonely as you would’ve otherwise.

All the red and green decorations inside the establishment and along the way home just add insult to injury and make me feel even emptier.

I guess Niki would cook delicious meals back when we lived together, though… I suppose that’s a good memory.

Niki: Ah, now that you mention it… That did happen, didn’t it~?

Rinne: Well, that’s good. Christmas is for the kids to enjoy, ain’t it?

As long as the kids are excited, enjoying themselves and bouncing around, it’s all good. But for adults, it’s just the same as any other weekday.

Niki: Eh~? Rinne-kun, are you for real? I don’t like that at all, though?

After all, it’s Christmas, right?

Niki: Turkey and roast beef and beef stew! Ginger cookies, candy canes, bûche de Noël[4], and the classic strawberry Christmas cake! ☆

It’s a dream-like kinda day for me, ‘cause I get to eat delicious food all day, y’know?! I wish Jesus Christ was born every day!

Rinne: … Didn’t you say something like that about Halloween, too? I guess you’d be happy with any event tied to food.

Niki: Well, simply put, yeah.

Rinne: … Huh? Ah, shit!

Niki: Eh? What’s wrong? You’re looking pretty alarmed at that clock…

Rinne: I’ve got a meeting for work right about… Now.

Niki: Huh?! Rinne-kun, you seriously came to play pachinko even though you had work?! I thought today was a day off for you?!

Rinne: Damn, I overstayed… Anzu-chan said “Absolutely don’t be late!” but, well… I am late, shit.

I wonder if I’ll make it if I run. ES is pretty far, though…

Sigh. It’s gonna be a pain either way~. Anyway, I’m heading off now, so it doesn’t matter!

Niki: Well, it’s a good chance for some exercise, right? Good luck, Rinne-kun!

Rinne: Hm? Why’re you talking like you’re not involved too, Niki. You’re comin’ too, y’know. Rinne-kun will be lo~nely otherwise!

Niki: Huh?! But it has nothing to do with me, really, right?! I mean, you don’t even feel lonely at all, do you Rinne-kun? You just wanna drag me into it!

Rinne: C’mon, let’s go~. Run, run~!

Niki: Ah, he’s already…! You were really serious about this?! Ugh– I’m only doing this for you this once, Rinne-kun!

[1]: the way rinne refers to this is something that can either be translated as wallet or breast pocket, such as that of a suit, where the wallet is kept . he's being kind of defeatist here

[2]: this is internet slang in japanese; basically, it's like when you really really want a card of your oshi, but they just won't come home . the object itself ( in rinne/niki's case, the pachinko machine ) senses your material desires, and therefore denies them ! there's not really a better way to translate this, but hopefully this helps you understand what niki meant better, lol

[3]: referring to spider, which aurora has translated here !

[4]: this is yule log/christmas log !

#unknown holy night and nighthead #enstars translation #rinne amagi #niki shiina #ensemble stars #ensemble stars translation #enstars translations #from the doctor's clipboard

133 notes · View notes

jophiel-extras · 1 year ago

Note

Hi, can you do an aziraphale x reader one, where reader is oblivious that aziraphale has developed feelings for them and he tries signaling it to them but after a while he just gives up and blurts it out? 🩵

summary :: Aziraphale has being trying to catch your eye for some time and eventually becomes fed up with your head being in the heavens

warning :: none, fluff

note :: I never expected to get three Aziraphale requests in a row, I thought it would’ve been Crowley city in my inbox

Aziraphale has been on earth long enough to know how to ‘court’ another person.

Despite being socially… off to human standards, he can be quite smooth.

He has been quite smooth, a few times. To you specifically although you never seem to take the hint. Aziraphale finds it “dreadfully cute,” but it’s quite comedic at this point.

The first time Aziraphale attempted to be romantic towards you, was buying you a bouquet of lovely flowers. They were the prettiest Cala Lillies you’d ever seen.

“Oh Aziraphale, they’re lovely,” You glossed a finger over the rounded petal of a singe Lilly, then returned your eyes to Aziraphale, “what are they for?”

“Well erm, they’re for you, dear.” Aziraphale stuttered.

“Yes but what for?”

You couldn’t quite grasp the idea that Aziraphale had gotten you flowers for no reason other than he simply liked you.

Aziraphale would ask you out for dates (which you considered friendly hang-outs) and always paid the bill. Which you usually protested.

Never left a door unopened for you.

He would lend you his coat if ever the weather called for it. No other had gotten that kind of special treatment. He prized his coat, after all.

Always threading compliments into your conversations.

“You look marvellous.” Or “What a lovely outfit.” Even “You’re glowing this evening.” And “I enjoy your company so much.”

All met with a chipper; “Awh, thanks Aziraphale!”

He’s a big gift giver too, he loves to drown you in presents.

Even if you merely mention liking something in a shop window, it’ll end up in your home one way or another.

Often, for gift giving holidays like Christmas or your birthday, Aziraphale will have a minimum of five presents waiting for you.

No matter the amount Aziraphale spoils you, it never seems to click.

At this point, Crowley had caught on and began teasing him.

Crowley’s teasing ruffled his feathers, quite a lot, causing the Angel to become ever so slightly frustrated with your ignorance.

“You know it’s never going to work, not with a human so dumb.” Crowley muttered.

“Don’t be rude.” Aziraphale defended.

“In fact, I think it’s such a lost cause that I might even pray for you.”

Crowley, praying for him?

That’s when the frustration got to the better of him and with a huff, Aziraphale made his way to your whereabouts for a serious confession.

It took Aziraphale a year or two of pining before an outright confession.

If patience were a person, it would’ve been Aziraphale! But something had bugged him so sorely about your airiness towards his feelings that he had lost sleep about it.

And when Crowley had a go at the sleepless, pining Aziraphale things had suddenly changed.

“I fancy you! No, I love you,” he had quickly changed his words, ‘fancy’ giving you too much room for a miscommunication, “very dearly, and I have for some time.” At this point, Aziraphale had begun fidgeting, he’d never been so forthright before.

“Love me?” You parroted.

“Yes! Romantically, very romantically.” He hurriedly specified.

“Oh Aziraphale, I never knew you felt that way.”

God bless you. How could you be so oblivious?

#aziraphale good omens #aziraphale x reader #aziraphel #aziraphale x you #aziraphale x y/n #good omens #good omens x reader

154 notes · View notes

violetarks · 5 months ago

Text

track 33: la la land

“delivery…?”

you blink at the doorway, where porco holds two bags of ingredients and a wine bottle under his arm. “please don’t ever try that line ever again on me.”

“my bad,” he chuckles as you let him inside, “nice place. i didn’t think you were the gate kinda’ person.”

“levi made sure we all had a place with one after jean’s house got broken into by a crazy fan,” you reply as you lead him to the kitchen. you help him put the ingredients away in separate places and take out two wine glasses. “so, how’ve you been? you’re a lot nicer since the first time i saw you.”

“i think me driving you around town getting jean drumsticks was a good start,” porco tells you. he pours you a glass of wine. “i just, uh… was a bit worried about you during your tour.”

you take out the chopping board and a knife as you listen to him. “oh, thank you, porco, really. i appreciate it,” you hum out, “by the way, what are we making?”

“i actually have no idea,” he mumbles back to you, “i just bought some random things. i saw some pasta thing online.”

you smile at him with upturned brows. “no plan, huh? c’mon, porco, you plan a date and can’t be bothered picking something out?” you joke along with him as you hand him an apron. you tie one on yourself and wait for him to do so as well.

“okay, well, i—i’m not a chef, so i didn’t know,” he grumbles out with knitted brows, “you got somethin’ in mind?”

“yes, everyone knows how to make a simple pasta and protein,” you chuckle back as you turn on your speakers to play some music, “can you dice onion, please? be careful.”

“okay, i’m not some—”

“don’t swing that knife around, porco!” you step back and reprimand. he puts it down on the chopping board sheepishly. “y’know what, i’ll chop everything and you can just, uh… provide support.”

he sits back against the kitchen bench with a pout as you cut the vegetables. he watches you though, a bit happy that you were acting as normal as you could. porco crosses his arms over his chest as he listens to the music. you seemed calm.

when you begin to cook the garlic and onion on the pan and stir with a wooden spoon, you freeze up in your spot when you feel porco’s hands on your waist. you lose your train of thought and mumble off into nothing as he steps forward.

“you okay?” he asks you against your ear. his chin rests on your shoulder and he can feel you shiver. “you were saying something?”

“i… the, uh, the tour went really well,” you swallow your nerves before you put in the tomato paste, “fans really liked it and we, um, we had plenty of encores. i ended up—your hands are…”

they’re planted on your hips tightly. you can feel how his fingers dance across the apron, his chest pressed gently against your back.

“hm?” he asks, “is this alright?”

“y’know, i would’ve head butted you if you tried this back at the jaeger’s holiday house,” you state as you stir the pan, “you’re lucky.”

“yeah?” he hums, “you like me now?”

you don’t respond to that; instead, you point to the fridge. “can you pass me the heavy cream?”

he lets out a short sigh before he pulls away from you. but you shift a little as porco keeps a finger looped in your apron strap. he opens the fridge with one hand and uses his knee to block the fridge door as he reaches for the cream.

“are you serious right now?” you let out a laugh as he sinks back next to you, “thanks.”

“you’re welcome,” he replies as he looks down, “i wanted to apologise for everything, by the way. i… pretty much made all this drama happen between us. put you in a pretty shitty position.”

you stare at him wildly before you shake your head. “it’s okay, porco. i mean, every celebrity’s gotta’ deal with something. that, for me, is you. i’m sorry too, i can be pretty childish.”

“that’s for sure,” you jab his shoulder at that. he rubs his arm as he smiles. “so, what will happen between us?”

you glance at him as he opens up the cream. “well, we can’t go public yet, obviously. i’m fine with us just seeing each other in private, if that’s okay. or hiding our faces when we meet up.”

“that sounds good,” he tells you as he leans against the marble bench, “we’ll be extra careful.”

“of course,” you hum back, “you were never a three, by the way. i just said that to piss you off.”

“what about that other drummer? is he still your favourite?” porco questions with a tilt of his head.

“yes, i like the tricks he does with the drumsticks—”

“you’re such an asshole,” he scoffs as he drags you closer to him with one hand on your hip. he watches you smile at him before he’s leaning over and pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. “let’s just start over.”

you return the kiss to his cheek before going back to cooking. “alright. but if you bug me about my stage presence again i will kick you out of my house.”

his laughter fills the air as you two move about in the kitchen.

track 32 | track list | track 34

anime: attack on titan

character: porco galliard (band! au)

summary: y/n, the bassist of the band 'paradís', finds herself in middle of a 'publicity stunt' with none other than a rival band's drummer. porco, the mentioned member of 'marley', doesn't care about her at all. but they can only ignore each other for so long.

taglist: @makimakimi @hanmascult @ally22042000 @rozewayne2005 @keithandlevi-ontheroof @qaahnarin @queen-flower @id-rather-be-an-outsider @onlylowercase @tonysttank @a-little-pebbl @hannahalanib1 @moonshineandclearskies @aqueerincrisis @tati-the-fangirl @cheesechopchive-blog @hermaeusmorax

#stay with me #porco galliard #porco galliard x reader #porco galliard smau #porco #porco x reader #porco smau #galliard #galliard x reader #galliard smau #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan smau #aot #aot x reader #aot smau

51 notes · View notes

twisted-wonderland-but-gayer · 1 year ago

Note

Just thought up the other potential reactions from the g7 counterparts:

Alice would be curious, as always, of yuu because she’s never seen the queen of hearts just being patient-ish with someone. Also yuu is definitely much more normal (somewhat) unlike the rest of wonderland’s residents. She asks a lot of questions like child simba but because she just wants to know how and why this happened? Depending on the yuu, she might look up to them? Although that depends on who someone wants to characterize them.

Like you said, Ursula would try to keep yuu away from ariel but I think the same goes for king triton. So either they meet up by accident or one of them sneaks away to meet the other. Once they do finally meet, ariel wants to know all about yuu and but also probably asks them about human stuff (depending on how old she is). Yuu and ariel end up sharing stories for the whole time till they’re found. She might try to introduce them to the rest of the family, but probably doesn’t really go far intimately. They might eventually open up, but it either takes a lot of time and they don’t really have full trust or it just doesn’t happen at all. Is that cousin that you only see every other holiday at grandma’s house but despite that you guys are like best friends.

Like Snow, don’t got a lot of thoughts on aurora. I think she would just kinda neutral meeting yuu, honestly the whole interaction is her being just chill while talking to them. Depending on the relationship between she and maleficent is, Maleficent might introduce yuu to aurora herself or just kinda keeps an eye on them while they interact. The fairies absolutely distrust yuu and don’t want them anywhere near aurora.

Aladdin doesn’t trust yuu at all 100%, same goes with jasmine. He won’t be outright rude, but definitely goes out of his way to avoid them or keep any interactions short. Although does keep an eye on them to see how they interact with jafar. He would probably one of the last people they interact with and is either formally introduced to them through Hercules, Snow, or Aurora. He joins in on any antics that might happen but when alone with yuu, both are just sitting there awkwardly. Kinda like a going out friend and their friend you don’t really know and your friend left so you’re both waiting in silence for them to get back. If yuu and aladdin eventually get along, he’s that friend thats message you or you message to see if they want to go on a 3am mcdonalds run and than hang out in a walmarts parking lot afterwards.

And completely fair on misreading the first ask, I probably would’ve if I didn’t send it. Also sorry if I don’t got the characterizations right, it’s been a long time since I watched any classic Disney movie that wasn’t aristocats or robin hood.

I love Aladdin and Jasmin having beef with like 13 year old and is like "we don't trust you!!" "Damn what did I do???"

I feel like Ariels would be the most interesting. The two sneak out together realize who each other are and have conversations comparing things.

"You're never allowed to go to the surface?"

"It's dangerous, father says."

"Humans aren't so bad... besides doesn't your father also say I'm dangerous cause of my mother?"

"I guess so yeah..."

"Mom says to stay away from your side of the family, cause women there are only ever seen and not heard and he did bad stuff to my mom too. Maybe, you should start questioning him"

Hercules is just "don't you fucking try anything" and Meg is like "OK that's valid but after working with Hades I can tell you the kid is cool" and now Hades is trying to be the cool cousin

Aurora and Yuu should be like siblings change my mind.

Also rip Alice. "How are you the queens child??" "Idk bro I fell from the sky and she was like "oh cool" and now I'm royalty.

#not writing #not requests #the great 7 parents #abyssthing198

172 notes · View notes

lolitaa-17 · 1 year ago

Text

Heartburn | g.satoru x f!reader, g.suguru x f!reader

Warnings: alcohol, smoking, cheating and angst.

synopsis: g.satoru fell out of love...

“Satoru!” that voice made his ears perk up. He noticed her dark yet soft features as she waved him over where she and the others had been sitting. Anyone would call him a lucky man for dating such a beautiful woman. You were a strong independent woman, he loved that. But what he loved more was the desire of a woman who was dependent; soft and fragile. He wanted a woman who would constantly rely on him. Many would say that was just a lousy excuse to why he’d been cheating on you.

“Hi baby.” he leans in and kisses you on the lips before taking the open seat right next to you. The amount of guilt Sarou carried on the way to the small bar. The fact that he’d been at Hana’s; his secret lover's house while you sat here waiting for him patiently with the rest of the group. How would you react if you ever found out about him and Hana?

“I was thinking of a little secret santa for the holidays.'' Shoko continues the conversation that had been occurring before Satoru’s arrival.

“That would be so fun!” You grab Shoko’s hand as you two continue talking about the plans for the holidays. Satoru noticed Suguru basically staring into his soul, asif his eyes would burn right through Satoru.

“Me and the guys are gonna get some more drinks!” Nanami says while Suguru and Satoru follow along. “What’s with the staring?” Satoru laughed while he felt the phone in his pocket obnoxiously buzz.

“How about you answer that first? Pretty sure she’s tired of being your little secret.” Suguru says while wiping off a lip stain mark on Satoru’s neck that you thankfully didn’t catch.

“Satoru, you can’t keep the lead on y/n.” Nanami says sipping the whiskey he’d just ordered.

“What are you implying?” Satoru asked. “Break up with her…” Suguru answered for Nanami.

“You guys know how much she means to me. I can’t just leave her like she means nothing to me.” Satoru brushes his hair from the frustration while taking his phone out to see many texts from Hana.

Hana

Are you gonna tell her soon?

We can’t keep this secret forever Satoru…

“But you can easily cheat on her?” Nanami scoffs before quickly grabbing Satoru’s collar to his shirt.”Y/n means a lot to me, We were basically raised together. She is like my sister and the last thing I want to see is her getting hurt by my own best friend. So end it.”

Satoru knew he would never have the guts to see your face if he ever did break up with you. But you all had been a group ever since you were all 1st years. And now all of it is gonna come down all because Satoru hadn’t been loyal to the woman who would do anything for him. “Bye Bye!” You waved at the group as you and Satoru walked out the bar, your cheeks were flushed and you’d been a little tipsy. Satoru on the other hand had been in his mind thinking of what to say. He loved the way you held only his pinky and swung his arm slightly aggressively while you admired the beautiful city lights in Tokyo.

“My mama would’ve loved Tokyo.” You say inhaling the cold air. “She would’ve loved you too.” you cling onto Satoru’s arm, stumbling a bit.

“Oh I am so drained from today” you fall back on the bed while your eyes slowly close.

“Y/n, can we talk?” your eyes open immediately.

“What’s wrong?” You sat up taking off your coat and grabbing Satoru’s hand guiding him to the open spot on the bed next to you.

“Y/n I think we should..” you nod your head refusing to hear the rest.

“No Satoru, whatever it is, we can work it out. The last thing I want is for this to end.” He sighed as his eyes started to water. “I found someone else y/n.” Your brows furrowed. Is that why Satoru’s demeanor had changed so suddenly? Is that why he’d arrive late for every group hang out? Is that why he’d come home smelling like flowers?

“Oh”

“I can explain all of this for you y/n.” He says getting up and pacing back and forth in the bedroom.

“Satoru, there’s simply nothing to explain.” You get up and walk over to your closet. Satoru knew it was gonna end like this. You are leaving. He loved you, but he wanted to pursue Hana.

“I’m not staying here, you can have the apartment y/n. '' he wanted you to look him in the eyes. He wanted to see what was going on in your mind.

“Now why would I want to stay here, Satoru?” you look up to him with tear filled eyes. As said before you were a strong and independent woman. Seeing you cry would be once in a blue moon. Satoru walked up to you trying to give you one last embrace, but all you could do was pull away. At that moment it felt as if he could hear his heart shatter. The woman who onced loved his physical touch was now avoiding it. But could he blame you?

“So what’s her name?” you sat out on the balcony of Suguru’s Apartment. It was genuinely beautiful. The view of Tokyo hypnotized you.

“What makes you think that I know?” Suguru placed a bottle of whiskey accompanied by two glass cups for the both of you.

“You're his best friend, I'd be more shocked if you didn’t know.” you sigh as you pour some of the whiskey in your cup.

Suguru felt guilt take over him, how you and him always had some special connection. He loved it but hated it. He would never take the heart of his best friend's ex. He couldn’t help it though. How could he just forget about the feelings he had for you before you and Satoru even knew each other? He claimed to win your heart before Satoru, but Satoru being the charmer he was back then, it wasn’t easy for Suguru.

“Hana” Suguru answered.

“They're both coming.” Shoko says taking the cookies out of the oven. It had been a month ever since the breakup between you and Satoru. You sat down staring at the ceiling whilst playing with Suguru’s hair as he laid his head down on your lap. You definitely had something different with Suguru, but you couldn't just move on that easily. It takes time. For you at least.

Satoru walked into the beautifully decorated house with Christmas decorations. He felt anxious to see you…how had you been doing? Have you been talking to other people? His thoughts were immediately erased after seeing you. He felt his heart skip a beat, you looked healthy. Maybe a bit healthier. The soft yellow christmas light illuminating onto your soft skin, your long silky hair. He noticed that Suguru had also been there. His head laid up against your lap as he looked like he’d been sound asleep just by your touch.

Suguru felt the presence of Satoru.

“Satoru.” Suguru gets up causing you to break the gaze off the ceiling. Suguru pulls Satoru into a big hug before backing up.

“Hey guys, this is Hana.” he reveals his girlfriend. And just like you imagined she was beautiful, like a doll.You now see why Satoru fell in love with her.

No words came out of your mouth when the couple looked at you, only a small smile. The rest of the night was normal. Shoko was talking to the couple, while Nanami arrived an hour later and you sat with Suguru out on the little patio with hot chocolate in hand. Blankets wrapped around your bodies.

Satoru looked out, noticing how much you’d been attached to Suguru this whole night. Hana had quickly excused herself to the bathroom. Satoru looked at Shoko and Nanami as he had just arrived.

“Are they…dating?” Satoru asked, eyes still glued onto the two outside.

“He helped her throughout the break up. You know she’s not as strong as you think.” Nanami says taking his coat off.

Just as Hana came back, You and Suguru also made your way back into the house. The night was normal, nothing too crazy.

“You're my best friend, but I've loved her for who knows how long, Satoru.” Suguru blew the smoke from the cigarette out while the two sat out on the patio while everyone had been inside watching some Christmas movie.

“I know…she deserves it. She deserves the best” Satoru smiled. One of the reasons he held back the breakup with you in the past was because he knew it was gonna end like this. You and Suguru become something you and Satoru were once.

He couldn't do anything about it. Watching you and Suguru leaving the bars together now. How it used to be him and you. How you and Suguru look at each other with such infatuation. How every Christmas you guys would always show up together. How you two would still talk to Satoru with love and respect. How you and Suguru looked like you had always meant to be for each other.

#angst #getou suguru #gojo satoru #jjk geto #jjk gojo #jjk fanfic #jjk x you #jjk angst #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu geto #gojo x reader #geto x reader #gojo x you #geto x you #Spotify

230 notes · View notes

plutoccult · 11 months ago

Text

HAIKYUU X THE OFFICE AU — EPISODE FOUR: OFFICE CHRISTMAS PARTY

pairing: sugawara koushi x female reader

description: it’s the holidays, and that means it’s time for the annual office christmas party where everyone participates in secret santa. much to sugawara’s delight, he has picked your name for secret santa this year and plans to make it count.

word count: 5.6k

also available to read on my ao3 here

author’s note: hello and happy holidays! i will admit i’ve been struggling to stay motivated with this series, but i have to remind myself that i’m mainly writing this for MY enjoyment at the end of the day. i’m the ultimate sugawara warrior and it shall stay that way. anyway, it’s christmastime, so of course i’m writing a christmas episode! i strayed away from parts of the episode quite a bit. this definitely has more focus on sugawara than the reader this time around, but i’m not mad about it. it’s nice to see an angsty, pining suga 🤭 i almost thought this would have to be split into two parts, but i’d rather keep it as one. i also made a playlist for sugawara and the reader a good bit ago, so here’s the link here (i am very much open to song suggestions)! i’m so excited to get closer to my favorite episode ever, and i hope you guys enjoy!

tags: @toorubobatea @cowgirlikets @dragon-slayer5 (ily ty for hyping me up) @femme-lune @kazuchaos @bakagun1312 @beingbrokenfitsus @mumblepingu @daedaep69 @darthferbert @intheewrld @msbyomimi @sukxma @akari-fujikawa

taglist form here

christmas was always the best time of year for the office. the holiday spirit was at its peak, everyone loved being a part of it, especially your boss, ukai. he took christmas more seriously than everyone else, even kiyoko who primarily handled planning the annual office christmas party each year. ukai took it so seriously that he chopped his own tree and brought it to the office building, dragging tanaka along in his shenanigans towards festive greatness.

tanaka huffed and puffed as he let go of the bottom half of the tree, ukai holding the top half. “ukai, i don’t think it’s gonna fit.”

“that’s what she said.” ukai joked, resisting the urge to snicker. it was like he was a child in a grown man’s body. plus, that joke aged like milk. only he found it funny.

“no, like, it’s really not gonna fit.” tanaka said.

“again, that’s what she—”

“WE CAN’T FIT THE GODDAMN TREE THROUGH THE DOOR, UKAI!” he yelled at the top of his lungs, completely frustrated with his boss. you could hear tanaka from your desk inside the office, but it came out muffled, so you couldn’t quite make out what was being said. you assumed it was idiotic activities as always.

“i’ll make it fit.” ukai insisted, the spirit of christmas granting him all the determination he needed.

“lemme guess, you’re gonna say that’s what she said, right?” tanaka let out a sigh.

“don’t make me fire you, tanaka.” ukai threatened.

“should’ve just got a fake tree.” tanaka rolled his eyes. yeah, that definitely would’ve worked just fine, but this was ukai here. the man was crazy. he would never do anything the normal way.

“i guess that would’ve worked…” ukai said as he pondered over how he would get this tree through the door, quickly thinking of his idea of the best way to do it. “alright, on three, we’re gonna shove this through and hope for the best. got it?”

“i guess?” no. tanaka didn’t get it, but he had no choice.

“too bad. one… two… THREE!”

with one big push, ukai and tanaka burst through the doors of the office. the tree toppled to the floor, bringing them along with it. the sound startled just about everyone, having been doing their typical duties. to you, it just felt like any other day, and you didn’t bother to help the two men.

tanaka fell face first into the pile of pine, aggressively coughing as he wiped any pine needles off his face. “i think i swallowed a pine needle.”

“well, merry fucking christmas.” ukai said enthusiastically. he seriously needed to be scolded over his cursing.

“ukai!”

•••

in the first time in, well, ever, suga was actually excited to be doing an interview for the documentary crew. why? because of this year’s secret santa.

“so this year, for the first time ever, i got finally y/n for secret santa. i’m pretty excited about it, and i really wanted to do something special for her, so i got her this teapot. as much coffee as she drinks here, y/n is way more of a tea person—i would know—so with this she can make tea at her desk.” suga said excitedly, showing off your gift for the camera.

“but i also stuffed it with some inside jokes, that’s what makes it so special, you know.” he continued, carefully digging through the teapot to show off said inside jokes. “like, this is my high school volleyball photo. she saw it fall out of my wallet on my first day here, and it really made her laugh. not sure why, but i’m letting her have it now.”

with the biggest grin on his face, suga dug through the teapot for more, pulling out a wasabi packet, but it wasn’t just any ordinary packet of wasabi. this had a story behind it, one that had meaning for suga.

“ooh. this is a wasabi packet. she put this on a hot dog a couple years ago because she thought it was relish.” he explained. “i thought it was really funny, so i kept the other two.”

after telling the wasabi story, suga held up a mini toy of a chili pepper with a kawaii face, but made a squeaking noise when someone squished it. poor sound guy jumped when it almost blasted his eardrums.

“this is actually a toy for dogs or babies or something, i don’t know.” suga shrugged. “but i saw it, it was cute, and it reminded me of awards night, so i thought; why not?”

but the most important gift of all—one that outsold everything in that teapot—was a card suga wrote just for you, detailing his feelings towards you all on paper. “and then, uh, this is a special card i wrote for y/n… because christmas is the time to tell people how you feel.”

oh, the documentary crew was going to eat this up.

•••

kiyoko and yachi were put up with the task of decorating for the party, forcing many of their coworkers to partake. they also had to deal with ukai’s hack job of a christmas tree. the two girls tried their best to salvage it, throwing as many ornaments and tinsel on it as possible, but it was a losing battle. it was just going to be an ugly tree, so they put the rest of their effort into decorating the conference room.

when it seemed like they were done with everything, kiyoko made her rounds, examining each decoration, but by the end, she wasn’t a fan. “i don’t like it.”

“you… don’t?” yachi questioned.

honestly, it was the perfect scene; red and green decorations perfectly put together, all strategically placed, but if kiyoko didn’t like it, then it simply meant that more work needed to be done.

“we need more lights.” kiyoko said. “i need someone tall.”

“count me out.” tsukishima, who sat down while drinking a soda, spoke up. he had been put through enough, he was tired of decorating.

“i wasn’t asking you, tsukki.” kiyoko rolled her eyes.

“only yamaguchi is allowed to call me that.” tsukishima said.

“whatever.” she scoffed. “uh, who’s super tall and buff…?”

kiyoko and yachi share a look. they instantly knew exactly who to find.

“asahi.” they say in unison.

not only were the two girls on the same page, they knew exactly how to rope asahi into this mess, and it was all up to yachi to get the job done. “asahi, help! i’m dying!”

“dying?! who’s dying?!” asahi bolted into the conference room, only to find no one was actually in trouble.

“i’m dying… for you to hang up these lights for us.” yachi said with a grin as she held up a roll of christmas lights.

he didn’t have much choice, so asahi let out a sigh before ultimately giving in. “okay…”

•••

“i found that asahi will do pretty much anything for me because he’s afraid i’ll be a scaredy cat around him again.” yachi spoke confidently to the camera while the party preparations were happening behind her. “he’d probably commit murder for me, who knows?”

asahi, who overheard her, yelled out in defense for himself. “that is NOT true!”

“keep hanging up those lights!” she yelled at asahi, who immediately went back to work, further solidifying her point. “see? he totally would. he’s the best.”

•••

right before the party was about to start, ukai exited his office dressed like santa. you immediately laugh and try to mask it with a cough, but ukai caught you anyways. “something funny, y/n?”

“yeah, you look ridiculous.” you snort, covering your mouth to muffle out your laughter.

“that’s the point. this party is supposed to be fun.” ukai said sassily. “i want everyone to let loose. i want this party to be reminiscent of my frat boy days.”

“you were in a frat? what was it called?” you ask him, intrigued to hear his answer.

“beta schmeta—” yeah, he wasn’t actually in a frat. “whatever. all i’m trying to say is i want everyone to get lit!”

you cringe at ukai’s use of outdated slang. “that is so seven years ago…”

“yeah, and i want it to happen anyway.” he said.

“your way of getting lit is drinking, and we’re not allowed to have liquor in the office, so...” you reply. you were always one to follow rules. well, for the most part, at least. it was hard to have any sort of structure at an office ran by someone like ukai.

“don’t… don’t remind me, dammit.” ukai cursed. “stupid corporate losers. like booze ever killed anybody.”

you always found your boss was painfully stupid at times, and this was definitely one of those times. but even so, you tried to combat it every time, always failing no matter what.

“but booze has killed—” you began to say.

“anyway!” he cut you off, tired of this conversation and ready to party. ukai then waved tanaka over to him so they could get the party started. “tanaka, let’s get this show on the road! announcement, everybody! listen to tanaka because he’s a better at yelling than me, as shown earlier when he yelled in my face!”

“yes, everybody listen up!” tanaka yelled out. “you better have your presents wrapped up and ready to go under the tree because we will not wait for you and you will be disqualified from secret santa! don’t be that guy! nobody likes to be that guy, so don’t be him!”

you let out a groan as you grab your present for secret santa from under your desk, eyeing the camera on your way to put it under the tree.

“please, don’t let this party suck ass.” you whisper to yourself. you hear tsukishima snicker behind you, an “ow!” soon following, assuming it was yamaguchi smacking him on the back of his head.

•••

“i love christmas. christmas is fun. it’s the best time of the year besides my birthday.” ukai said, still dressed like santa, knowing this would be seen on television one day. “why do i love christmas, you may ask? because i get free stuff, and who doesn’t love free stuff?”

•••

everyone gathered around the tree, placing their presents underneath. one could compare it to christmas morning with your family. some may argue that this office is like a family, while some may think otherwise, but regardless, it was nice for everyone to be together in harmony.

after daichi and tanaka argued over who would light up the tree—mainly because daichi didn’t trust him with outlets—tanaka was finally given the rein, or, well, extension cord.

“everybody ready?” he asked, a mix of nods and “uh-huh” in response.

“okay, and…” the tree is lit up, but it’s quite dim. “yikes.”

silence plagued the room. no one expected the lighting of the tree to be so anti-climatic, especially since the office makes such a big deal out of christmas every year. kiyoko practically wanted to die of embarrassment given she was responsible for the decorations, even if yachi was the one who brought in the lights from her apartment.

while no one said a word, you were the one to speak up, praising the tree for kiyoko and yachi’s sake. “well, i think the tree looks quite nice.”

“thanks, y/n, but you don’t have to lie.” yachi frowned.

“no, it’s a lovely tree.” ukai insisted. “let’s do secret santa now, okay? tanaka, pick who gets the first present.”

tanaka walked over to the tree and picked up a random present, reading who its intended for. “and it’s… tsukishima.”

“oh?” once handed the gift, tsukishima ripped away the wrapping paper to unveil a dinosaur plushie. much to everyone’s surprise, he was delighted by the gift. “aw, this is actually really nice.”

“oh, thank god.” nishinoya let out the biggest sigh of relief one could take. “that was from me.”

“wow, thanks, nishinoya.” tsukishima said with a smile. someone may as well pass out from shock now. christmas truly brought all types of miracles.

•••

“that is literally the nicest thing tsukishima will ever say to me!” nishinoya exclaimed. “i’m serious! i’ve officially peaked at life!”

•••

secret santa rolled along smoothly so far. suga ended up getting a card, which contained a twenty dollar bill inside, the limit for this year’s secret santa. kageyama claimed he didn’t know what to get, but suga wasn’t all too phased by it. who doesn’t like free money? besides, he was too eager for it to be your turn. luckily for him, it was happening right now.

“y/n, you’re next.” suga perked up once he heard your name, knowing your present would be from him.

you take the box from tanaka with a grin before opening up your gift. inside was the teapot suga spoke of to the documentary crew earlier, although you weren’t aware of its secret contents inside just yet, especially the card. you show off the teapot to your coworkers, and suga was notably the only one excited to see it in your hands. it made you wonder who your secret santa happened to be…

“wow, thank you very much, santa.” you say slyly. “whoever you are, you did good.”

“there’s a little more to it.” suga leaned over and said to you quietly.

oh. so your inkling of a suspicion was right, after all. now you were itching to see what was inside, but the office had to keep the show rolling, which completely distracted you from the anticipation.

“alright, next. asahi.” tanaka threw the present to asahi, which made ukai freak out.

“jesus, tanaka!” he yelled out. such a reaction instantly gave away that ukai was the one to get a gift for asahi. “easy, easy!”

moving on from ukai’s sudden outburst, asahi unwrapped his gift, shocked to see what was inside. “an ipad?”

yeah, ukai got asahi an ipad. asahi was just as shocked as everyone else, and he was the one to receive such a gift. clearly ukai felt he could bend the rules, but no one was happy about it, and it would surely be known soon enough.

“woah. wow. jeez. somebody really got carried away with the spirit of christmas...” ukai said, acting all nonchalant before he revealed himself as asahi’s secret santa, but everyone figures it out anyway. “that was me, i got a little carried away.”

“i don’t even know what to do with this…” asahi said to himself.

“ukai, you got way more than carried away.” you scolded your boss. “you spent god knows what on that thing! we had a limit!”

“okay, well, who cares?” ukai shrugged. “it doesn't matter what i spent. what matters is that christmas is fun, right?”

“it’s kind of unfair.” you cross your arms, but ukai could care less about your irritation, although everyone else was in agreement with you.

“whatever.” he rolled his eyes. “who’s next?”

“you are, ukai.” tanaka said.

“i am? great.” ukai was handed a small bag, opening it up and finding mittens inside, which he wasn’t happy about whatsoever. “really?”

“i knitted them myself…” yachi said shyly. she knew she should’ve knitted a scarf instead.

“mittens? pft, okay.” ukai then proceeded to walk out, confusing everyone.

“uh… did he just leave?”

•••

“these mittens? pathetic. i gave asahi an ipad for christ’s sake. i spent my hard earned money while yachi just did some fucking knitting.” ukai complained, unbothered by his cursing for the umpteenth time. “censor me, i don’t care!”

•••

left to their own devices, the employees of japan pulp and paper weren’t sure if they should continue secret santa without their boss. thankfully, ukai returned with a solution, although not a great one.

“i got it!” he burst through the office doors as if nothing happened. “we are going to turn secret santa into yankee swap.”

“what’s yankee swap?” suga questioned.

“one person chooses a gift, then the next person can either choose a gift or steal that person's gift. if your gift gets stolen, then you can steal somebody else's gift or choose a new gift.” ukai explained. it was confusing coming out of his mouth, but you were just going to roll with it anyway.

“yuck, why are we doing this?” tsukishima questioned, wanting absolutely no parts of ukai’s typical nonsense.

“because it's better, more special.” ukai replied. “duh.”

tsukishima wasn’t the only one who didn’t like this idea. kiyoko was practically fuming about it, especially since it spawned from ukai’s strong dislike towards yachi’s gift. “it’s mean, ukai. that’s what it is.”

“it’s not mean.” he said. kiyoko couldn’t believe how much of an ass he was being right now.

“yes, it is.” she argued. “you’re only doing this because you hate your present and you’re bitter yachi didn’t ball out for you like you did for asahi, which no one asked you to do, by the way.”

“no, it’s not.” ukai argued back. “just give it a shot.”

“i’d rather not, actually. i’ll be taking my present, which is…” kiyoko picked up a card with her name on it and opened it up. “a gift card for coffee. thanks, takeda. and whoever doesn’t want any part of this nonsense can take their gifts and hang with me in the conference room. yachi and i made sugar cookies and they’re very delicious.”

as kiyoko and yachi went to the conference for some real fun, suga followed, much to ukai’s surprise, including yours, although your boss was more vocal about it. “really, suga?”

“yeah, you guys have fun.” suga said before disappearing into the conference room.

“i’m coming too.” tsukishima stood up, clutching onto his new plushie. he couldn’t believe he and suga were on the same page for once. “for the sugar cookies, obviously.”

“yeah, okay.” suga snickered. well, not totally on the same page.

“shut up, sugawara.” tsukishima scoffed before dragging yamaguchi with him to the conference room.

as you watched suga leave with the others, part of you felt guilty. you wanted to follow him, but at the same time, you didn’t want to seem like a little puppy dog following its owner. besides, you were itching to get that ipad too. the teapot is just a teapot, right? you didn’t think there could be anything that special about it, but you couldn’t be more wrong right now.

•••

“why didn’t you opt out of yankee swap?” one of the crew members asked you, stirring the pot—or teapot—for the sake of the drama with suga.

“i don’t know. i thought it’d be fun.” you lie with a little shrug before revealing the whole truth. “plus, i kind of want to get the ipad. i can binge watch my shows with it while ryo hogs up the tv.”

this was totally ruining the crew’s spicy plans right now.

•••

while ukai’s yankee swap commenced, suga obsessively watched the events unravel from the conference room. he didn’t even try one of kiyoko and yachi’s sugar cookies yet. the man was a mess, hoping and praying that teapot wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands. it was meant for you and only you, why would you chance giving it up? suga knew it had to be the ipad. he never hated ukai more than he did right now for buying that stupid thing.

the others sat around quietly playing christmas music, snacking on cookies and chatting in the midst of suga’s lovelorn crisis. kiyoko decided to go talk to him and figure out what was up with him, but she had to do a bit of warming up first.

“hey, suga.” she said, forcing him out of his trance. “who did you get for secret santa?”

“oh, um, i got y/n.” suga replied.

to be honest, kiyoko was shocked that suga was capable was picking out something so sweet, but then again, this was suga. of course he would do that. “aw, cute. i really like that teapot.”

“i put little inside jokes inside the teapot.” he added. “plus, um, a really personal card.”

“saying…?” she raised an eyebrow.

“nothing. it’s not important.” suga shook his head. such a terrible lie.

“i think it is, sugawara.” kiyoko said.

suga hated how kiyoko was catching up to him. why did he have to mention that the card was really personal? it was more than just personal, the poor sap poured his feelings out to you in that card. he read it over a dozen times, making sure there were no spelling or grammar mistakes whatsoever. his brain felt like mush by the time he felt the card had reached its best version. this gift had to be perfect, but it never stood a chance at being that way, it seemed.

he had to get the attention off his back before kiyoko fully got the picture of the gift’s important, and thankfully, he knew exactly where to push her buttons. as suga once said, manipulation at its finest.

“shouldn’t you be worried about tanaka giving up the gift you got him?” he questioned. yeah, he heard a little bit from the grapevine about that.

“how did you know?” kiyoko gasped. she knew someone had to snitch. “yachi, was it you?!”

“no, never!” yachi exclaimed.

“actually, daichi told me.” suga smirked.

“that bitch.” kiyoko cursed. it was one more reason to want to slap the shit out of daichi. “whatever. i don’t care what he does with my gift anyway…”

suga let out a chuckle knowing kiyoko was playing off her crush on tanaka—one that was much more innocent than how he felt about you, an engaged woman—but his laughter quickly faded when he looked back at what was going on outside. “oh no.”

“oh no, what?” kiyoko questioned.

“hinata has the teapot.” suga replied. he then let out a loud groan, one that caught the attention of tsukishima who was trying to figure out why suga was acting more of a weirdo than usual.

“oh god, he’ll break it.” yachi said with a quiet gasp.

“i can’t watch.” suga turned away, covering his face with his hands. this was too painful for him to bear.

“y/n took the ipad.” kiyoko spoke up. as if hearing that made this any better.

“please don’t commentate like it’s a football game, kiyoko.” suga whined.

“sorry…”

tsukishima furrowed his eyebrows as he watched suga wail in agony, then gave a look to the camera. he had a weird feeling about this.

•••

“i’m just going to throw a theory out there.” tsukishima said plainly. “you don’t have to say anything, but i can read your faces. sugawara has feelings for y/n, doesn’t he?”

the documentary crew was unsure how to respond, but tsukishima guessed it right instantly. they knew, one by one, slowly but surely, the whole office would figure it out.

“that’s what i thought.”

•••

yankee swap continued, and it only got worse from there. your teapot was passed around like a hot potato, and it was torturous for suga to watch it all unfold. the sparkling cider kiyoko brought just wasn’t sparkling enough for him to dull this soul-sucking ache in his heart.

“i have to get that teapot back.” suga said. “if y/n doesn’t want it, then no one else should have it…”

it’s true. not even because of the card, but because it was specifically catered for you. outside it was just a teapot, but inside was a plethora of memories from your years of friendship. suga may be hopelessly in love with you, but your friendship meant the world to him at the end of the day.

“that’s…” yamaguchi paused. there was only one way to describe this. “really depressing.”

“it’s cause he has feelings for her.” tsukishima blurted out. everyone turned and looked at him in shock. did he really just say that right now?

“do not!” suga protested.

this was suga’s worst nightmare. was it always obvious? did anyone else know? did you know already? the questions swirled in his head a mile a minute. he was absolutely freaking out. from you giving up the teapot to this fiasco, the holidays simply couldn’t get any worse for suga. he just couldn’t catch a break, it seemed.

“ha, you so do! i figured you out, sugawara. you’re in love with y/n.” tsukishima smirked, almost finding joy in his suffering. actually, he found joy in everyone’s suffering, so this wasn’t much different, but since it was suga, he found it much more thrilling.

“what do you want? money?” suga asked desperately. it was the only solution he could think of so this secret wouldn’t spill anywhere else.

and since he mentioned it, tsukishima wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity. “yeah, gimme that twenty kageyama gave you.”

“suga, wait.” kiyoko stopped him. “do you really have feelings for y/n?”

ignoring her question, suga quickly handed the money to tsukishima. kiyoko couldn’t believe it. he really did have feelings for you, and now everyone in the room knew it. “oh my god…”

“this secret doesn’t leave this room.” suga demanded. he bought tsukishima’s silence, but luckily for him, everyone else didn’t need to be convinced with money. at least he hoped so...

now that he got that out of the way, suga checked in to see what was going on at the party, and it seemed like yankee swap had ended. worst of all, your teapot was nowhere in his sight. “wait, they’re dispersing. why are they dispersing?”

“ukai probably did something stupid and ruined the party even more.” tsukishima scoffed.

“who has the teapot? who has it?!” suga asked frantically like a madman.

“i think i see tanaka with it.” yachi said, pointing to him with what seemed like the teapot in his possession. it was worse than hinata having it, honestly, and suga needed it back now.

“NO!”

suga bolted out of the conference room, scanning the office floor to find tanaka. however, you walk up to him, holding the ipad in your hands. “hey! ukai left to get booze. he said screw the rules, i guess.”

“oh, really?” he asked. “great. i’ll need it.”

“yankee swap was kinda chaotic, but look who came out on top?” you say excitedly, showing him your new gift.

“that’s nice.” suga said quickly so he could get back to his mission. “uh, where’s tanaka?”

“break room.” you reply.

“great, thanks.” suga swiftly walked past you, abruptly ending your conversation. you found it a little odd, but ended up shrugging it off and heading back to your desk.

in a flash, suga walked into the break room, finding tanaka right where he needed him. “hey, tanaka. i need to talk to you. it’s about the teapot.”

“nuh-uh.” tanaka shook his head. he knew exactly what suga was up to, but he didn’t quite know the reason why, he just knew suga wanted that teapot. “don’t even, suga. this is mine.”

“really?” suga sighed. he had to get it back, someway, somehow. “look, it has sentimental value, tanaka. can i buy it from you? i’m willing to pay a lot.”

“no. i want it. i'm going to use it.” tanaka held it close to his chest like it was a baby.

“you don't even drink tea.” suga said.

“true.” tanaka shrugged. “but it lowkey looks like i could make a bong out of it.”

oh god. this was definitely way worse than hinata having the teapot.

•••

“to think that my gift for y/n will be used for that…” suga began to say, taking a deep breath, almost overcome with emotion. “it’s just too much for me.”

•••

suga walked out of the break room, absolutely defeated he couldn’t get the teapot back. even worse, he found you showing off your new gift to ryo, crushing him even more. despite the pang in his heart, suga couldn’t help but overhear your conversation.

“this is awesome.” he heard ryo say.

“i know.” you reply. “look at the quality on this thing. i can watch stuff in 4k on this.”

“yeah, i was gonna get you one of these for christmas, but now i don't have to since you got one for free.” he said happily, thrilled at the thought of not having to spend that much money on you. it made suga want to barf. “i'm gonna save a ton of money.”

“so what are you going to get me instead?” you ask him.

“i don't know. probably like, an ugly sweater or something.” ryo shrugged.

you look to the camera in disgust before their attention turned to ukai coming back to the office with bottles of alcohol. as if you needed more of that in your life after what happened last time you drank.

“ho, ho, ho!” ukai greeted everyone, on theme with his silly outfit. “santa has come with spirits, as in booze.”

“we’re really not supposed to serve alcohol, ukai…” takeda said, trying to keep his job by the end of the day.

“no one cares, specs.” ukai scoffed, typical when it came to talking to takeda. “it’s a party and it’s christmas! if i can't throw a good party for my employees, then i’m the worst boss ever, and that contradicts with my world’s best boss awards! so, who wants a drink?”

practically everyone raised their hands instantly.

•••

“if i’ve learned anything from my time at japan pulp and paper, it’s that alcohol solves all your problems.” ukai grinned. what terrible advice, the crew thought. “everyone’s having a good time, and why is that? alcohol. i’m such a good influence!”

•••

despite the whole secret santa fiasco, everyone seemed to be having a good time. at least now you could all have fun, even if it was with the help of alcohol. well, plus the food too. that too always helped.

while christmas music blared and many of your coworkers danced on the office floor, suga found you sitting behind your desk, wondering why you weren’t partaking in the festive shenanigans.

“you know, you don't have to answer calls during a party.” he said cheekily. “just thought you should know.”

“oh, i know.” you say, revealing the teapot to suga, showing that it was now yours once again. “i was just checking out my new teapot here.”

“what?” suga gasped. “but how?”

“well, it ended up with nishinoya after tanaka traded it for kiyoko’s gift, so i didn’t have to do much convincing to get it back.” you explained to him. “i figured, you know, letting it go was really stupid of me because what should matter most is that the gift is from you, so i went to get it back. i hope you’re not mad at me...”

it was a christmas miracle for suga, even if you simply just made a trade with nishinoya. of course he would give it up for the ipad. thank god he did, and thank god you were willing to let go of such a lucrative gift for one made with love instead. words couldn’t describe the relief suga felt right now.

“i’m glad, actually. and not to be totally biased right now, but this is an amazing gift because it comes with bonus gifts.” suga said. “look inside.”

suga’s reassurance put you at ease, and as directed, you look inside the teapot, pulling out his infamous volleyball photo. you had never been so happy to have that teapot. if only you knew before. “oh my god. no way.”

••��

you proudly hold up your teapot for the documentary crew, a huge grin on your face, one that only suga could bring out of you. “yeah, i think i made the right choice.”

•••

you looked through the rest of the contents in the teapot, and while you weren’t looking, suga stole the card he wrote back and shoved it in his pocket. he just couldn’t bring himself to let you read it. maybe someday, but not today. the timing is just wrong.

“is this a chili pepper?” you ask as you hold up the toy.

“yeah, cause you’re banned from chili’s. look, it makes noises.” suga squeezed the chili pepper, accidentally ghosting his fingers over yours, and you jump from the squeaking sound coming out of the chili pepper toy. totally not from his soft touch either.

you felt like an idiot for giving this up before. it helped you learn to not judge a book by its cover. you knew that’s something you learn as a kid, but sometimes you have to learn something all over again as an adult. at least you came to your senses. there was still so much for you to figure out.

“you’ve outdone yourself, suga.” you smile and look into suga’s eyes.

“it’s about time i got you for secret santa.” suga replied. god, why did you have to be so beautiful?

“yeah, it really has.“ you say, holding your gaze before gulping when you think you’ve been staring at him for too long. little did you know, he wouldn’t have minded looking into your eyes a little longer. “merry christmas, suga.”

if suga has learned anything about christmas, it’s that it’s definitely not the time to tell people how you feel. he knew that now, no matter how much it hurt. in his eyes, if you had to take some time to come around to fully accepting the teapot, then you had to take your time accepting a life without ryo, potentially in favor for a life with him instead. the only question now was when? it was only a matter of time before suga will grow impatient.

sometimes suga felt like he was better off shoving his feelings down his throat, and you felt the same way. what you have is beautifully complicated, but suga swore that one day he’d tell you how he felt. it just had to be the perfect time.

“merry christmas, y/n.”

69 notes · View notes

pollenallergie · 1 year ago

Text

Some Older!Tom Grant x Reader Headcanons

Description: Exactly what the title says. (I’m lazy).

Warnings: Terrible attempts at using British/Cornish slang, some American-isms may have wormed their way in here, swearing, and smut is implied (and also sort of mentioned?? a male orgasm is mentioned, but that’s it). I think that’s it, but let me know if there’s more warnings that I should’ve listed here. 18+ only!! If you’re a minor, go away, do not read this!!

Word Count: Who cares? Just read it. (Again, I’m lazy).

A/N: I’m using a gif of Michael from Hoard because, in my opinion, that’s what older!Tom looks like.

You were the one that got away.

Tom met you when he was 18, while you were on vacation with your family at the caravan park.

You two hit it off and became great friends despite having only known each other for about a week.

You liked Tom as more than a friend, and he sort of felt the same way about you… sort of. Things were complicated because he was still hung up on his recent breakup with Ruth. Had he met you under any other circumstances, he probably would’ve fallen head over heels in love with you before you could’ve even said hello, but he didn’t. No, Tom met you while recovering from his first heartbreak, when he was still in love with his ex despite all she had put him through. He wasn’t ready to experience the kind of feelings being around you gave him, so he pushed them down, repressed them, smothered them, and pretended like they didn’t exist.

You’d managed to summon the courage to ask Tom out on a date on your second to last day at the park, and he’d declined. You’d thought he felt the same way. He'd been flirting with you ever since he first met you, and you’d done your best to reciprocate despite the fact that, back then, you weren’t used to flirting (nor being flirted with). But then he rejected you, leaving you to high tail it back to your caravan so you could lick your wounds and helplessly wonder if you’d misread the signs. Had he even been flirting with you at all?

Tom had been flirting with you but never with the intention to act on it. He never figured that anything would become of it anyway, never figured you were actually interested; Ruth wasn’t, so why would you be?

In retrospect, he sees how daft he was being. Ruth wasn’t interested in him because she wasn’t interested in men at all. What happened with Ruth wasn’t a personal slight against him, even if, at the time, it truly felt like it was. He was young, and he was hurt, and, frankly, she’d gone about the whole thing pretty poorly. Granted, she was young too.

Anyways, Tom was young and hurt, and he thought he was utterly unlovable and undesirable. So, he figured you only reciprocated his flirting to keep yourself entertained whilst you were so far away from home. You certainly wouldn’t have been the first tourist to give one of the guys at the caravan park that treatment.

When you’d asked him out, he’d been so taken aback and unprepared that he’d let you down quickly and, admittedly, not as kindly as he should’ve. All the years that have passed since then, and he still remembers exactly what he’d said, “What? Oh, er, nah. I’m alright. Thanks though. I’ll see you round, yeah?” Then, like an even bigger idiot, he’d run off under the guise of getting back to work. That memory continues to haunt him on nights when it’s hard to get to sleep, along with every other embarrassing fuck up he’s ever made in his life, of course.

Your friendship had fizzled out that very afternoon, and the two of you never even said goodbye when you left the park to return to your home country. You never spoke after that summer either, even though you’d exchanged contact information earlier on in your holiday, before that fateful afternoon.

Tom has spent years regretting the way things ended between the two of you. Mostly, he wishes that the two of you could’ve remained friends. However, there’s always been a part of him that’s been disappointed in himself for ruining his shot with you.

Fourteen years later, Tom miraculously gets a chance to redeem himself.

You move to the UK — Cornwall, specifically — for your new job, and, as luck would have it, you move to the very same town that Tom moved to after he left his work at the caravan park behind.

One morning, whilst working on a construction site across the street from your new job, Tom spots you carrying some supplies into your office. He can’t believe his eyes. You look almost exactly the same, albeit a bit more mature, with some more lovely curves as well, but with the same kind eyes and the same beautiful smile.

Tom can’t help himself; he has to go over to you and say ‘hi’ to you, at the very least. So, when he catches you leaving your building for lunch, he jumps on the opportunity, sacrificing the last fifteen minutes of his lunch break to talk to you.

He manages to convince you to come out to dinner with him at a nearby pub, framing it as two old friends catching up. Although, the lack of a ring on your finger sure gives him hope, more hope than it probably should.

What started as dinner, a quick chat and a bite to eat, turns into staying at the pub til the bartender calls out five minutes to closing time.

The two of you are drunk on cheap beer and ale, with your stomachs full of greasy pub food, and Tom, ever the gentleman, insists on walking you home.

When the two of you arrive at your new place, you insist that he stays the night, refusing to let him walk back to his place in such a state. He’s fully prepared to stay on your sofa, but, in your inebriated state, you seem to think it’d be better if you both just slept in your bed together. In his own inebriated state, he finds that offer impossible to refuse.

Nothing happens between the two of you that night; even drunk off his arse, Tom’s still respectful, insisting that he sleep in the same jeans and t-shirt that he’d worn out to the pub and, much to your chagrin, putting as much distance between you two as your bed will allow. However, the next morning, Tom takes a big risk and asks if he can kiss you before he leaves to go back to his own place. The eager nod and shy smile that you answer him with makes his heart soar.

If you ask Tom, that kiss was well worth the wait. However, if he could turn back time, he’d still have rather gotten his shit together back in ‘09 and kissed you then; then, he could’ve just been kissing you the whole time these past fourteen years.

After the two of you reluctantly pull apart, Tom asks if he can take you on a proper date sometime soon, maybe to get some dinner at a fancy restaurant or something like that. You agree, but only on one condition: Tom takes you to the spot in town with the best food, no matter how fancy or not-so-fancy it may be. He agrees.

Your first “proper” date ends up being at that very same pub, though this time, you two do much less drinking and catching up, and a lot more eating your weight in greasy chips and bantering.

Tom’s still just as cheeky as ever; you’d figured that out the first time you went out with him, but you get to see even more of that on your first date. He holds doors open for you, partly because he’s a gentleman and partly because it gives him a good opportunity to take a geek at your arse. Once he’s given the green light to touch you, he never really stops touching you. The whole night, he has a hand resting on your thigh or lower back, or an arm wrapped around your shoulders or waist so that he can subtly tug you closer to him. He lays the compliments on thick, too, but in a way where you can tell that he really means them, that it’s not just baseless flattery.

Tom’s also incredibly sweet and genuine, too, asking questions about your work, your family, your friends back home, etc. He asks if you’re settling in alright here in Cornwall, so far from where you’re originally from. He offers to show you round the town, show you where all the essentials are, like where to get the best produce, and to show you which places are nothing more than tourist magnets and which are actual local-approved spots. He talks about himself, too. He tells you about his mum, how he moved here so that he could be closer to her, so she wouldn’t have to be alone. He talks about his housemates: his mate, Callum, from primary school, who’s hardly home enough to truly be considered a housemate, along with the dog he (Tom) recently rescued and the stray cat that just sort of showed up one day and turned himself into a housecat. He pays for everything, always having some cash out and ready before you can even reach into your purse to get your wallet. He walks you home again, of course.

Tom ends up staying the night at yours again. Although, this time, it’s not because you think he’s too drunk to walk home. No, this time, he winds up in between your sheets for an entirely different reason, and he certainly doesn’t leave any space between the two of you this time around.

The next morning, Tom wakes up before you, as he’s used to waking up at 4:30 for work. By the time you wake up, he’s made breakfast, the closest he could get to a full spread with the stuff you had in your fridge (it’s basically just eggs and toast). You two eat breakfast together, and you find out that he’s still an adorably messy eater. He cleans up after himself well, though.

In fact, Tom doesn’t let you help him clean up at all, doesn’t let you touch a single dish because, according to him, he can’t, in good conscience, let you lift a finger after the way you made him cum last night. “You deserve the Nobel prize in shaggin’, love. I’m serious. I mean, I was seeing stars afterwards ‘n everything. You’ve gotta, at least, let me make you a ‘thank you’ breakfast and clean up after meself. ‘S the least I can do after that,” He says, like the dork that he is, before planting an emphatic kiss on your forehead.

He leaves a couple of hours later to go check on The Lads™, but not before asking you to come round to his place sometime next week so that he can make you “the best fucking lasagne you’ll ever have in your whole life. Seriously, it’s me mum’s recipe. It’s fuckin’ amazing. You’re gonna love it.”

#older!tom grant #tom grant #tom grant x reader #older!tom #tom grant smut #tom grant (make up)#make up (2019)#tom grant headcanons #tom grant hcs

111 notes · View notes

grapejuicestyless · 1 year ago

Note

i have been loving the song big black car by Gregory Alan Isakov lately and was wondering if you could write something based on it? maybe Conrad … maybe harry? this song reminds me of autumn and blurry scenes out of train windows and i would love to see what you could do with it xxx fluff or angst, whatever best suits your mood at the time ⭐️🧚🏻🫂 sending you loooots of love! thank you!!!! <3

Big Black Car

Conrad Fisher x fem!reader

Summery: “Heartbreak, you know, drives a big black car.” She laughed, pointing at the empty streets. Stepping in the puddles, I watch our reflection bend. She sticks out her tongue, but I can only frown. I understand now that no matter how this ends she will forever haunt me. I’ll see her smile in the rain and hear her voice in the breeze. She was a phonograph, I was a kid. She was everything, and yet nothing.

ANGST

(I might write an alternate version thats fluffy lmk if thats something you would want <3)

I rode in red train cars with the patterned seats from the nineties. I read the novels my friends recommend me and I bit at my nails until they bleed. I leave red stains from my lipstick on my skin when I pull away, and I admire the leaves that stick to the cement.

I don’t mind the chill or the way my nose burns in the late November air. It reminds me of the holidays, big sweaters and sweet n’ low sugar in dirty coffee cups. I don’t complain about the dirt on my shoes or the wetness on the bottom of my jeans. I don’t care about how wild my hair is or how my smile is crooked and my freckles are scattered.

The world is spinning, round and round like a carousel. What would I be if I were to stop and complain. To sit still on a world made for dancing, a world that gifts us the chance to take it all in just once.

So I don’t mind that I had to ride hours in a train to get to Boston. And I don’t care how he doesn’t wait for me on the platform like I would’ve. After all we are only gifted our place on this earth once. I’ve learned to hold no grudges, have no anger. I remember that I am not the only one living this life for the first time.

The red of their front door is the same red of my nails. The same red of my lips, the same flush of my nose and the red of my scarf. The color maroon reminds me of the fall, of the traditions and the cinnamon. Chai and tights and boots and fairy lights.

When the door opens, it’s Susannah who opens it. Her blonde hair is shorter and she has more wrinkles. The same smile lines she used to pull back and the creases between her eyebrows she used to complain about. There was nothing to complain about. Why would anyone ever be ashamed of the tattoos of their happiness. How beautifully they age. So I tell her she looks beautiful every chance I get. And I don’t say it just because I want to make her feel good, but because I mean it, and I hope she can see it too.

“Y/n, come in, come in!” She ushers me inside of the house, and her hands rub along my arms like I’d been waiting for hours in the baron winter. Then again, she’s more ill than I would ever be. She believes it’s colder than it truly is.

Unwrapping my scarf, I hang it on the banister. I leave my shoes by the door on the mat right below where my jacket hangs off the hook.

“Wheres Conrad?” I cant help but ask, running my fingers through each other repeatedly. The cold nipped at my fingertips and the wind blew harshly into my face, but it was autumn finally and I was in Boston. So who could complain?

“He’ll be down soon. Just finishing up some cleaning. You know how messy he is.” She smiles as she leaves, tending to the kitchen, making mashed potatoes and some main dish that smells like spices and butter.

The door at the end of the hall at the top of the stairs creaks, and heavy footsteps follow. There he is, I can breathe. I can breathe and I do, because the air is so much fresher when it’s the same air I get to share with my Conrad.

His hair is darker blonde than it was in the summer, and his sweater clings to his body perfectly. He looks so soft and cozy. It’s the same shade of maroon as my scarf and my nails and my nose and my lips. He’s smiling, faintly but I can see it. Right underneath the dark circles of his eyes, under his button nose. He’s just as charming as I remember.

“Con.” She breathed. She breathed like it was her first deep breath in a long time.

She looked so beautiful. Someone straight from a magazine. I swore even the lights above her head bent so they could shine down just on her. Full of so much life, so much love. I couldn’t help but feel dull being so close to her. A Plain Jane standing next to the most gorgeous woman. A miracle beside I, someone who was simply holding his space.

Each step seemed to draw out longer, my resistance to give into the warmth she radiated. The kindness that seeped out of her. She was understanding, smart. That empathy of hers really was a gift. A gift I wish I had, because then maybe I wouldn’t be thinking the things I was right now. Maybe then I could be happy with what I had.

When my mom called for us a few moments later, I silently thanked god for sparing me from my thoughts. The thoughts of her red lips, red nails, red scarf and how we looked like we matched. How I wanted to rip the cotton from my skin to differentiate us. To separate us physically.

I picked at my food with my fork that night at dinner. Pushing around the turkey and chewing at my cheek. Like she knew something was wrong she grabbed my hand, holding it under her own. She didn’t force me to curl my fingers into hers, which I appreciated. She knew, of course she did. How something was wrong. It wasn’t like me to be so distant, so closed off. No, not to the girl who had run around the beaches with me in late July, flying kites and kicking over each other’s sandcastles in fake fury.

She pressed a kiss to my hand then, and I saw the slight stain of red on my skin. She laughs about it, but doesn’t rub it away. But the red burns my skin and the reminder of her being so close hurts my heart. I rub it away quickly, smiling softly to her and letting her hand go. She doesn’t really mind it, and if she did she doesn’t have time to frown about it. Jeremiah is already asking about her college friends and if any of them are single. It makes her laugh, but he was being serious. Which is probably why it was so funny to her.

I can tell by the way he pulls at his collar and sweats from his brow that he’s tense. I know him too well for him to hide from me. I won’t lie and say it didn’t sting to see him brush away the mark of my kiss on his hand, but the pain is dulled by his family and his soft smile assuring me he’s still down on earth right here beside me. It’s all my naive, young love sick brain could ever need from him, and I’m back on my feet.

He doesn’t hold me like he once did. Maybe the salt in the air had clouded his vision, maybe the sunlight made everything feel more genuine. Maybe thats why he once held me like it was his purpose. Like by not having me, he was killing himself. Maybe it was the changing seasons, or maybe it was his mother. But then again, he doesn’t talk much anymore anyways. At least, thats what Jeremiah says at dinner.

He complains how Conrad has no friends at school because he prefers to sit quietly in his dorm, the door only open because his roommate requested it to be so. How his mouth is never dry, he must have so much to say but never says it. His teasing turns sour when Conrad shrugs and mumbles something I don’t quite catch under his breath. I understand it to be something bitter, something rude from the way his eyebrows are furrowed and how Jeremiah’s smile drops. He tries to find his train of thought again, but the more jokes he tries to make towards his brother, hoping for that old banter, the more he is met with silence. Soon the fork is thrown to the plate and the brunette is gone into the backyard to talk with the neighborhood stray cat.

I clear my throat, understanding the discomfort coming from Susannah, the anger pouring from Jeremiah and the quiet coming from Conrad. All their faces are red, blushing in embarrassment. Red like Jeremiahs eyes right before he stormed off. It didn’t really make sense, how quickly it turned sour.

Susannah gathers the plates in her hands, uncaring about the way potatoes fall to the floor or how the carrots roll onto the table cloth. I ask her if she needs help, I beg her to let me but she shoos me away.

“It’s too nice out to be here with me in the kitchen. I’ve always found peace in the repetitive action of doing dishes.” She explains calmly, “This time of year is too short to spend inside. You kids go have fun.” She tries to persuade. And I’m not going to go, but Conrad puts his hand in mine for the first time all night, and his pull is so magnetic I don’t even care how I barely have time to slip on my jacket and my boots. I don’t care that my scarf still hangs from the banister or how i’m slightly thirsty.

It’s wet outside, the sky painted with a sunset so pure, it felt like Van Gogh had to have painted it himself. Last bits of sunlight shining through the tree branches and down onto the street. As soon as we’re far enough to never turn back, not run in to aid Susannah, he drops my hand.

I think it must be from the way his palms get clammy when they are warm enough, but he sets them in his pockets and pushes down. I wish he would talk more, I see why Jeremiahs teasing slowly became bitter. I wish I knew what to say to him.

Her eyes look everywhere but into mine. I can feel them. In my pockets, on my feet, in the sky, through the bushes and over the stone wall that fell with the rain next door. I can hear her breathing in the silence, see her smile with the passing puddles. And her footsteps in the mist that falls down gently.

“Heartbreak, you know, drives a big black car.” She jokes, pointing at the empty streets. I watch a large van pass by, a single man with a frown behind the wheel. The jokes not that funny, is it even a joke? I’m not even sure. Maybe it was my silence, or my unwillingness to play nice. Maybe she was just making conversation.

Stepping in the puddles, I watch our reflection bend. She sticks out her tongue, but I can only frown. I understand now that no matter how this ends she will forever haunt me. I’ll see her smile in the rain and hear her voice in the breeze. She was a phonograph, I was a kid. She was everything, and yet nothing.

I’m thankful when I see the red door cracked open on my house. I’m thankful that my mother is asleep on the couch and my brother is distracted by the orange cat rolling on his back for stomach scratches. I’m thankful for my father’s absence and how quietly Y/n hangs her coat. I’m thankful I don’t have to make conversation and that the day is almost over. At least when I’m asleep, I have an excuse to ignore everyone.

My room feels like heaven. Carpet under my sock clad feet and the pillows bent in the way I slept. I’m ready to lay back and let the day melt into a faint memory. I’m ready to forget how I feel, and what I love.

The bed dips beside me when I lay down. I can hear the sigh leave her lips, conversation on the tip of her tongue. So I pull her back to my chest and hold her close.

“Con,” She mumbles quietly. I haven’t quite mastered the evening of my breathing. She knows I’m awake. “Why won’t you talk to me?” She asks, solemnly. Like my silence physically pains her.

“Goodnight, Y/n.” I don’t feel like talking. I can’t. Not now, I’m afraid it will all come out. I’ll spew out complements to cover my insecurities. How wonderful she is, a summer breeze passing through the darkest winters. The first break of sun after a long tireless night. And how I cannot compare, how I cannot have her because it’s not fair to keep the more deserving from her.

When she pulls away, the heater is not enough to warm my cold heart. When she frowns, my pillows aren’t comfortable enough to ease the pain in my heart.

Shes pacing the room, rubbing her temples. Her fingers leave little marks, changing the color of her skin slightly when she pulls too hard. It fades back into its warmth when he fingers fall to her sides.

“What do you want from me, Con?” Her voice shakes, but she does not shy away. She doesn’t run. She will fight with all she has, even if she trembles and cries. And she will speak until she has nothing left to say.

“I don’t know.” I admit shamefully, standing up, my long strides close the gap between us. I want to hold her in my arms and put her in my pocket forever. A photo would never be enough. A photo didn’t hum little melodies in the kitchen, a photo didn’t make stupid jokes and a photo didn’t have her laugh.

When my hands reach up to hold her, they settle on her face. I don’t know what to say, I can’t find the words. My lips stutter and only a squeak can get past my lips.

Her fingers meet my left hand, holding her hand gently on top of mine. But unlike at the dinner table, she interlocks our fingers and holds me there.

She presses another kiss to the palm of my hand, and like she had earlier, the red from her lips left a soft remnant of her lips. Staining the skin with a weak smudge. When she went to wipe it away, I flinched. Why did I flinch?

"No, don't." I pleaded softly. I watched her inch away.

"What are you playing at Conrad? One minute you hate me, the next you want me." I didn't hate her. I just didn’t know.

God, how could she think I hated her? All l ever wanted was her. I just loved her too much. I was drowning in her. Slowly killing myself.

"I don't know." I couldn't say much more, I couldn't even look at her anymore. This time, she drops my hand. And the red from her lips stings my skin like a bullet through my palm. But the tears in her eyes hurt much more than a loaded gun. I would have rather been shot through the ribs than see the way her eyes glossed over because of me. How her lips quivered and finally shut. She had no more back and forth to pursue. She had said everything she wanted to say. We had run our course, it seemed.

“Loose my number, Conrad.” And shes gone like the wind, out of the door in silence other than the shaking of the coat rack and the movement of her boots. I swear I hear Jeremiah come inside. He asks very softly where shes going. I imagine she’s smiling, holding his cheek like the good big sister she is to him. His role model that I so selfishly ripped away from him by breaking her heart. I wonder if they’ll keep in touch now that it’s over.

When the door shuts, I notice two things. One, Jeremiah is standing at the door, eyes wide and mouth open. He looks confused until he sees me, and the anger is surely possessing his body by now, but he doesn’t seem to want to move. His hand stuck to his cheek, covering the stain of red left behind on his cheek. The final kiss goodbye. I know then, he won’t hear from her that often anymore. At least, not right now.

Second, I notice the maroon scarf hanging on the banister. It’s soft and still smells like her perfume. I can smell it when I get too close. It’ll stay in our home, along with her jokes and the piece of her heart she left behind when her first love shattered her heart. Maybe it’s the look of guilt on my face, or the tears in my own eyes, but Jeremiah makes his way to me finally. And I expect a punch once he reaches the third step, but instead his arms wrap around my body and his head tucks into my shoulder.

He mumbles something about it being okay, but it’s muffled against the loud memories of her that I try to keep locked in my mind so that I never forget them. He says it more for himself than for me, and I understand that I’ve left not one heart in pieces, but three.

Leaving that house, I leave behind pieces of me I wish I never gave away. I leave behind the Pinterest boards of wedding dressing and flowers and rings in boxes. I leave behind our future dog’s name and the house we picked out in the summer, the future we dreamed about.

Suddenly the color maroon didn't remind me of autumn anymore. Not of the traditions and the cinnamon. Chai and tights and boots and fairy lights.

It reminds me of the blood I left on my fingers where I bit them. Of the blood pouring from my heart now that it's shattered. Of the train I'll be riding home far too soon. Of my favorite scarf, that still hangs from the banister. That still smells like his house. That I wonder if he will keep it or toss it.

I went tor a walk that next morning. The sun wasn't up yet, and the birds were long gone. Families snuggled inside of their homes. When I walked down the stairs, I let my fingers touch the cool wood of the banister to wake me. I let my hand rub over the soft scarf thats not mine, but hers. And I bring it to my nose to see if I can still smell her.

When I go for my walk I turn to the left every time until I'm almost back home. I've gone in big circles.

Everywhere yet no where. When I reach the street sign, a neighbor honks to me. He's at the stop sign, driving a big black car. I don't wave back. I'm far too shocked to move. The same sad man sitting in the car with his dog in the seat beside him and his aging mother curled up in the backseat. He doesn’t look so sad today. He looks indifferent, but not sad.

When he drives away I can't help but raise my arm. I point. "Heartbreak, drives a big black car." I joke. And only now do I find the joke funny. Only now that I'm hurting.

#conrad fisher #tsitp conrad #conrad x reader #conrad fisher angst #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad x you #conrad fisher x reader #conrad #steven conklin #isabel conklin #tsitp jeremiah #tsitp s2 #tsitp x y/n

76 notes · View notes

the-barricade · 8 months ago

Text

Drunken Nights

pairing: Remus Lupin & Sirius Black

A/N: hey guys so I'm not actually part of the marauders fandom, nor have I even seen most of the source material, but I wrote this as a joke for my friend @wolf-pads so don't slaughter me for mischaracterisation pls!!

-------------

The holidays were always an interesting time for students of Hogwarts, with the Marauders being no exception. Typically, it entailed going back home to your family, which some may dread, or love – in the case that they’ve missed them whilst away and getting their education. However, some people may just miss their found family a little more.

This would’ve been the case for the marauders, too – except, now being in their seventh year of school and being adults old enough to make their own decisions, they found themselves spending the holidays together at a hotel in muggle London. It was supposed to be fun… and it was, save for one small issue. The boys had paired up together in rooms, to save money. James and Peter in one, Remus and Sirius in another. However, Remus could’ve sworn that it felt much more like he had booked the room only for himself. Truth is, with James and Peter always being much more willing to find some impulsive, occasionally stupid thing to do together and Sirius consistently off doing Merlin knows what, Remus was starting to get lonely. Maybe he should’ve went home as usual after all…

But moping around with no end in sight wasn’t like Remus, he knew it wasn’t productive… or enjoyable for that matter.

And so, here he was now, in the least typical place for him. Then again, it was late and he was a little upset about barely seeing his friends… and a bar? Well, those were the perfect conditions to go to one of those, surely. He stepped in, at first a little hesitant but determined to loosen up. Sitting down at a barstool, he decided on a drink on the lighter side, considering he wasn’t trying to get completely sloshed as opposed to some others in the place… he wasn’t judging of course, though he could say he was a tad concerned for some. Though his concern wasn’t that prevalent, it’s not as if he knew any of them, and they likely weren’t getting drunk everyday – or not. Maybe his alcohol tolerance was weaker than he remembered, because what were the chances of that? Going to a bar because you’re sad about not seeing your friends, and ending up in the very same bar as your friend who’s now piss drunk? Absolutely ironic. Funny? Possibly…

It couldn’t just be concern though… not with the way he felt his chest tighten at the sight of Sirius with a girl all over him. Is this what he’s been doing every day that Remus had been lamenting his absence? Well, it wouldn’t be unexpected… But now Remus didn’t know what to do - a strange feeling to have when Sirius, his best friend of many years was involved, but it was there regardless. Should he talk to him, or just leave him be? He wanted to talk to him, not only because he missed him. On the other hand, Sirius did look like he was enjoying himself.

Oh, damn it. Nothing wrong with approaching your friend when you accidentally see them in public, right? Remus got up from his seat and made his way over to Sirius, regretting his decision a little when Sirius and the girl he was with were too busy making out to notice him. When they were done, he awkwardly cleared his throat. Sirius noticed and turned to see Remus, now standing at his side. “Moony…?” At first, he was noticeably confused at seeing him here, but he quickly accepted it, his eyes lighting up a little as he did. “What are you doing here? Did you come to find me, or something?” Right. No amount of alcohol would ever take away Sirius’ teasing nature, in fact, it probably enhanced it.

“No, I just noticed you here and thought I should say hello.” Remus responded, accompanied with an awkward chuckle from him.

Sirius feigned a thoughtful look before speaking, “Hm, well did you want to have a drink together?”

Remus, however, was quick to shut that idea down. “You don’t think you’ve had enough already?” The question was rhetorical, a slight admonishment of the amount Sirius had evidently had, noticeable through his slurred speech.

“Don’t be such a bore, Remus.” Sirius rolled his eyes, and Remus had to fight off the urge to do so back.

“Whatever… but I’m going home, and I recommend you come with me, too.”

“Woah there, at least take me on a date first!” Despite his teasing, Sirius gave in and put his arm around Remus’ shoulder for support, ready to leave.

On the way back, Remus felt conflicted. Earlier, what he had felt was jealousy, that much was clear. It wasn’t surprising either, there had been feelings between the two bubbling beneath the surface for a long time now, but he wasn’t sure if he was ready to admit that to himself. And yet, it was obvious that he was more comfortable, alone with Sirius who was strangely quiet and seemed vulnerable. Maybe it was the alcohol. Nonetheless, Remus found himself wanting to talk, though not because the quiet was uncomfortable. “So… who was that girl you were with?”

Sirius took a moment to respond, before he began to smirk. “Oh her? That was my girlfriend… I swear you’ve met her before.”

Remus felt his heart drop momentarily as he stopped walking, but quickly made an attempt to recompose himself. “Your… girlfriend?” He hesitated, the words leaving a sour taste in his mouth, “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve left you to it…”

As soon as Remus finished speaking, a borderline cackle escaped Sirius before he could calm down enough to speak again. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding… You should’ve seen your face.”

“Pads… not funny.” Remus felt a sense of peace return to him at that, but was still a little upset and on edge. ‘What a cruel drunk’, he thought. Sirius had to have known the effect that would have on him, and they continued the rest of the way back in silence.

By the time they were back at their hotel, Sirius was practically asleep – yet he remained enough consciousness to cling to Remus when he tried to leave him be after carrying him over to his bed. That was a little odd coming from Sirius, but it made Remus’ heart flutter, albeit with a little melancholy. He had to wonder just how much Sirius would even remember in the morning.

Unfortunately, it felt as it would be forever before he would get a chance to find out. Now in his own bed, sleeplessness plagued Remus as he thought about Sirius, who he looked across the room at to see sleeping easily. Merlin, he was a fool for Sirius, and in reality, they both knew it. However, sleep would come eventually, as did the morning.

It was a little late when Sirius woke up, around 10AM. When he did, he looked around to find a glass of water and some painkillers at his bedside. They must’ve been laid out for him by Remus, who was still in the room, reading. “Morning…”

Remus looked up from his book with a small smile, “Morning. How’d you sleep?”

“Like the dead.” Sirius’ deadpanned.

“Hm, yeah, I figured. I left you some water and painkillers, you’ve ought to have quite a hangover…”

“I noticed, thank you.” Remus had always been the caring one, and Sirius was painfully aware of it.

“So,” a semi-awkward silence befell the two before Remus continued, “is that why I haven’t seen you at all lately?” He laughed, almost trying to make a joke out of it, but he was fully serious.

“Haha… yeah, sorry.” Sirius put his hand to the back of his neck and looked away.

“No need to apologise, I’ve just been a little worried about you.” Remus stopped, but then decided to be honest, continuing, “I also missed you a little.”

This gave Sirius pause as Remus was often more reserved, despite being quite in-tune with his emotions. “…I missed you too.”

“Didn’t look that way.” Remus hadn’t really thought before the jealousy had seeped into his tone, but in all honesty, he didn’t regret it.

Sirius sighed and made his way over to Remus’ bed, sitting down next to him, and putting his arm around Remus’ waist. “I did miss you.” He wasn’t going to allow for any confusion there.

Both the confession and the contact had softened Remus up a considerable amount, but he wasn’t going to show it just yet because he’s petty. “More than the bar? Or the people there?”

Sirius began to feel slightly exasperated, but went along with it anyway. “Yes, more than them.” Sirius stopped to stare at Remus for a second, before letting his usual playfulness make a return, “after all… they don’t have what we do.”

Remus knew exactly what he was talking about, but decided to push it anyway. “And what do we have?” This prompted Sirius to give him a look that just screamed ‘Seriously?’ before he had an idea. He gently took Remus’ face in his hands, forcing Remus to look at him, before speaking again. “This,” Sirius leaned in and kissed Remus passionately, something that they had both been waiting a very long time for. Their chemistry could’ve caused sparks as Remus was eagerly receptive of every move Sirius made, and he leaned in closer, before they finally broke away – a little breathless. Sirius then smiled stupidly wide once more before continuing his previous sentence, “is what we have.”

#guys this is a joke. fyi #wolfstar #marauders #dead gay wizards #remus lupin #remus #sirius black #sirius #remus x sirius #remus lupin x sirius black #moony #padfoot

22 notes · View notes