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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

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Waiting for you - Harry Styles

❄️ FANFICmas 2020 ❄️

Read more about FANFICmas here!

i wrote it over like a month ago, but kept it for today, i hope yall will like it! it’s a cute bestfriends to lovers fic, so yeah... happy holidays, hope you are having an amazing time!

word count: 13k

masterlist

Harry Styles has been a household name around your home, but not for the reason many would think. While for the rest of the world he was the famous singer, former member of One Direction and recent solo artist, the guy who performs at the biggest arenas, wins awards and sings his heart out through the radio, for you and your mom he was the goofy, curly haired boy who lived across the street with his mum, sister and stepdad.

You still remember all too clear the first time you met him. You and your mum just moved into your new home after the nasty divorce of your parents, ready to start a new life. You’ve barely turned twelve, it was quite the awkward stage of your teenage years, you were still trying to find yourself on the rocky road of growing up. Moving to a whole new town and switching schools were terrifying and you had quite a few nightmares about possible outcomes of being the new girl in the neighborhood.

You and your mum just finished unpacking the dishes in the kitchen when the doorbell rang. She rushed to answer it and you wandered behind her, curiously peeking at the guests under her arm as she held the door open.

“Hi! We saw the trucks and thought we would say hi! I’m Anne and this is my son, Harry,” the nice woman greeted your mum and stepping aside she gestured towards the teenage boy standing next to her.

His green eyes fell to you almost immediately and you forgot to breathe for a moment. You were not the kind to crush that easily on guys, well, not until you laid your eyes on Harry. He smirked at you, nodding in your way in such an easy-going manner and you could feel the heat crawling up your neck to your cheeks and ears.

Anne and your mum quickly became good friends. She was the rock your mum definitely needed after such a bad year behind her and you were glad she found support in such a wonderful woman as Anne. Their newly funded friendship got stronger day by day until the two families just… simply felt one.

Growing up the Styles siblings and Anne came and go in your home as if they lived there too. On many occasions you came home from school only to find Anne in the kitchen while your mother wasn’t even home. Anne always knew when your mum was working the night shift at the hospital where she was a nurse and always made sure you had a warm dinner on those evenings, often inviting you over to just stay at theirs while your mum was away working. Birthdays, graduations, Easters and Christmases, they were all spent at either yours or at the Styles home, strengthening the bond between the two families.

You have always had a strong friendship with Gemma, but maybe because you were closer in age or for something else, but you became the closest with Harry. Two peas in a pod, as your mums liked to call the two of you. You weren’t just neighbors or good friends, it was clear to anyone and to both of you as well that you were the best of friends. You were there for each other at the best and worst of times, before and after Harry’s launch to stardom. You were there with him all along, sometimes physically, sometimes just through text messages and reassuring calls when he just needed a piece of his home away from home. Late night calls and talks were your usual when he was on the road and he made sure to only talk about his life after you’ve told him everything about yours, even if the most interesting thing was that you were able to buy three socks for the price of two. Harry listened and cared for everything that happened to you, not letting you think even for a moment that he would forget about his best friend when he is on the other side of the planet.

The two of you grew up together and while his life consisted of concerts, screaming fans, telly appearances and award shows, your mundane everydays went on the same was as any normal young girl’s: you graduated from high school, went to uni and then started a career for yourself. As time was moving it became a little more and more complicated to stay as close as you used to, though, both of you terribly busy with your own personal lives, so the calls, texts and meetings became less frequent, but you were always able to pick up from where you left, it was as easy with him as it could be.

Maybe that’s why you grew to love him in a more than friendly way through the years. Slowly, but surely you started to realize what an amazing man he really was –is. It was impossible not to fall for him, however you valued your close friendship more than to just ruin it with dropping a bomb on Harry. You always thought he doesn’t feel the same way, so you were sadly left with your daydreams and fantasies about him only your bedroom walls heard.

This year it’s gonna be the tenth Christmas you get to celebrate together, quite the anniversary. There were only two years when you didn’t see each other during the holidays, the first one because you and your mum spent it in Canada with some relatives that live there, and the second one was because Harry couldn’t come home a few years ago, having a too tight schedule. But this year, everyone made sure to make it back home in time. Harry called you three month before Christmas to check in if you are still gonna coming home.

“Would be an idiot not to. Can’t wait to stuff my head with cookies!” you chuckled.

“Have you found your sweater yet?” Harry questioned, the muffled noise of the traffic around him broke through the line as he was on his way home when he called.

“Not yet. But I’ve been looking. I’m pretty sure I’m gonna win this year,” you smirked in victory.

“Oh, not so fast with the assumptions, little girl!” he warned you making you laugh.

The two of you had a kind of tradition. Every year, you go on mission to find the ugliest Christmas sweaters one could find, and then perform a chosen song at the karaoke machine after dinner, entertaining the rest of the family. Those performances are the best memories you nurse. Your absolute favorite one was just a couple of years ago when Harry’s sweater was filled with weird looking reindeers in quite inappropriate poses, he even added a glittery pair of sunnies and he sang I Want To Break Free from the Queen. Everyone was on the floor laughing as he took the living room by storm as if it was the Maddison Square Garden filled with thousands of screaming fans, while it was just the five of you.

He won that year, Hell, even you voted on him, giving him the cleanest win of all times, but you swore to live up to that performance and you really feel like this year is gonna be your chance to live up to that promise. You have quite some tricks up your sleeves.

These past couple of years you were anxiously waiting for the holidays to roll around, because you knew you would get to spend so much time with Harry and through the year, even with several occasions of the two of you meeting, you missed him dearly. Sometimes you selfishly wished he would have just stayed the boy across the street so your lives could take tracks that run at least close to each other, but you always reminded yourself that his work was his life and you would have never taken away his true passion and happiness. Besides, you love watching him perform from time to time, that was just one of your favorite sides of him, see his eyes shine so bright as he sang to his fans. You used to envy the fangirls, it always seemed like he had a special connection with them, but you realized that you were one of them. You felt the same excitement when he stepped on the stage, you bought all his albums, even though he made sure you’d be one of the first people to get your hands on it. You had a second copy of them, because buying it gave you the extra jolt of happiness and the feeling that you were a tiny part of his success too. You watched all his music videos, knew the lyrics to his songs and cheered on him whenever he won another award. Difference was that at the end of the day you could call him and tell him how proud you were of him and he stared back at you with that beautiful grin, his dimples digging deep in his cheeks, telling you that he wouldn’t be here without you. You always knew he just said it to make you feel special, but he insisted it was the truth.

“I’m telling you. It you weren’t with me I would have gone crazy already, pulling a Justin Bieber or summat. Don’t think you are any less than what you are, that’s just daft.”

Every time he said something along those lines those damned butterflies in your stomach went crazy and you tried your best to ignore them. You didn’t always succeed, but the effort was there.

Now it’s two days before Christmas and you are already standing in your old room after coming home from London, leaving your small but cozy little apartment empty until the next year. The walls are still the same lilac color you chose when you were fourteen, a twin bed is pushed against the wall under your window, the wardrobe’s door is littered with old pictures from high school and ones you cut out from magazines. You just never got around to take them down and after a while it brought you a comforting sense every time you came home. A warm nostalgia took over you when you saw them, so they eventually stayed.

Your suitcase is lying on the floor as you unpack some stuff you’ll be using often during your stay, but you don’t get far in the packing when you hear an all too familiar voice coming from downstairs. Leaving your stuff as it is you rush down and throw your arms around Anne from behind, who is standing in the kitchen with your mum.

“My sweet angel! How are you?!” she cheers turning around in your hold to hug you back, giving you a tight squeeze before she pushes you away so she can have a good look on you. “Swear you get prettier every time I see you!”

“Stop it, my head’s gonna get big,” you chuckle feeling yourself blushing a little.

“Never gonna stop praising my daughter,” she smiles and gifts you with a cheeky wink.

Anne was never shy to let you know that she thought of you as a second daughter and you still remember how it felt when she called you that for the first time. It felt nice to know that you could count on her no matter what.

The three of you chat in the kitchen, Anne asks you about your job and how things have been going, she hasn’t seen you in a while. You missed the times when you could just go across the street and have a talk with her whenever you wanted, but since you’ve moved to London, Harry wasn’t the only one you didn’t get to see as often as you would have wanted. Your job and life overall got you so busy sometimes, you barely had time to call your own mum.

“Harry is arriving this evening. Wanna come with us to fetch him up at the airport?” she asks you and of course you say yes. You wouldn’t miss the chance to greet him with a bone crushing hug just after he lands.

However, as the time nears when you’d have to leave to the airport, Anne calls you up and asks if you could go on your own.

“I didn’t finish cooking and Gems is in an online meeting. Would you mind if you went alone?” she asks and though it sounds a little made up, you don’t question her.

On your way to the airport you are nervously drumming on the wheel, the thought of seeing Harry excites and worries you a little. It’s been months since you last seen him in the flesh and though you’ve talked plenty of times on the phone and in video calls, it’s just not the same. You find yourself wondering if he still smells the same, if you’ll fit the same way into his embrace as before. When you were younger you often liked to think about the two of you as two pieces of legos when you hugged. Your frame just fitted so perfectly against his body, he was your absolutely favorite person to hug.

Standing in a corner at the terminal, you keep checking the board until his flight’s status changes to landed. Then your eyes are glued to the sliding glass doors, knowing well it’s gonna take him some time to get his bags and walk out, but you are just way too excited to finally see him again.

People start walking through the doors and your head perks up every time you see a slightly tall frame, only to realize it’s still not him. Until it is.

You can’t bite your growing smile back when you spot him, a beanie and the hood of his hoodie covering his mop of hair, sunnies hiding his eyes, but you’d recognize him even from just the tiniest detail. You push yourself away from the wall as you see him look around, probably searching for his mum and sister, because he was already on his way when Anne decided it’s gonna be you who fetches him up, so he doesn’t know about the change.

“Excuse me, can I get a picture?” you ask teasingly walking up to him and for a moment you can tell he believes it’s a fan who recognized him, but his face quickly changes once his eyes land on you.

“Fo’ fuck’s sake, you had me for a second,” he breathes out, his arms already reaching out to pull you against him and you gladly envelop yourself into his hold. “What are you doing here?” he mumbles tightening his arms around you, and you don’t mind it. As you face is pressed into his shoulder you smile when you realize that he still smells the same. Like home.

“Your mum asked me to come and get you because she didn’t finish cooking. But if you ask me she just wanted to surprise you with me. You happy to see me?” you smirk up at him letting your head fall back so you could look into his eyes.

“Always,” he grins before placing a soft kiss to your temple and letting go of you.

The two of you leave the terminal before anyone could recognize him and packing his stuff up into the car you head back home.

You hand your phone over to him once you hit the road so he can be in charge of the music and it’s no surprise when he starts playing Christmas music straight away. Grinning to yourself you glance over at him and see him scrolling through your camera roll like the nosy little gremlin that he is.

“Hey! I did not give you permission to snoop around my phone!” you warn him, but don’t try to snatch it away from him, there’s really nothing he shouldn’t see, besides, half of those pics have been sent to him through messages.

“Just tryna catch up w’ you,” he mumbles under his breath, continuously opening up photos he is interested in. “New couch, eh?” he asks showing you the screen for a second.

“Yeah, bought it a few weeks ago. You like it?”

“Looks comfy. I should try it out sometime.”

“You never sleep on my couch, what are you talking about?”

“Right, you always drag me t’ your bed,” he snorts and you gasp at him, smacking his chest gently.

“That’s so not true! You always just arbitrarily make yourself comfortable in my bed and I don’t have the heart to kick you out,” you correct him.

There hasn’t been many times when Harry crashed at your place, but when he did, he always slept in your bed with you, and the two of you have shared a bed a few other times prior too. It’s nothing new, though it does have a deeper meaning for you than for him, you think. Waking up with Harry snoring lightly next to you, admiring how peaceful and beautiful he is in this intimate state, you just wish you could see him like this all the time.

Harry smirks at you cheekily, scrunching his nose as he chuckles.

“’Cause I wouldn’t want to sleep anywhere else, Love,” he says before turning his attention back to your phone while you try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach at the nickname.

It’s quite late by the time you get home, you’ve run into some traffic, but it just meant more time with Harry. You gladly listened to his stories and you are happy you got some alone time with him. Parking up to your driveway you help him unload his bags before locking the car.

“Wanna go to the Christmas market in the morning? Promised Gemma I’d go with her and Michal,” he asks, slowly walking down the driveway towards his home.

“Uh, sure,” you nod smiling. Not that you had any other plans, the holidays are reserved for family and the Styles’ are family.

“Great, I’ll be here at ten. And thanks for the ride,” he smirks waving goodbye and you watch him cross the street before he disappears in his home and you do the same.

“Y/N? Is that you?” your mum calls out when you walk in.

“Were you expecting anyone else?” you ask, hanging your coat before you join her in the living room.

“Not,” she smiles giddily. “Was everything alright at the airport?”

You throw your legs over her lap and she squeezes your ankles playfully.

“Yeah, everything fine.”

“How is Harry?”

“Cheeky and smug, as always,” you huff smirking.

“Can’t wait to see him. I feel like I haven’t seen ‘im in ages.”

“When are they coming over tomorrow?”

“Anne said she’ll come around four to help me cook, the rest I don’t know. Dinner will be done around seven though.”

“I’m pretty sure Gemma and Harry will be here along with Anne,” you snort, knowing well they wouldn’t miss a chance to come over, especially Harry. He has been talking nonstop how he’ll be glued to your hip once he is back home, making up for all the time you’ve spent apart.

“They surely will,” your mum chuckles before you both turn your attention at the telly.

You go to bed way after midnight and finish up the packing you left abruptly when you left to get Harry. Shuffling around in your room you glance out the window and see that the light in Harry’s room is on too. Peeking out you lean against the window’s frame, thinking about the times when the two of you sat in the window, talking on the phone after curfew, keeping your voice down so your parents didn’t wake up, sharing secrets and your silliest thoughts. With Harry, you never felt like you had to keep anything back, he would have never judged you for anything, you could be your true self around him and vice versa.

A tall figure appears at the window and as Harry glances out his window he is quick to see you sitting on the window sill, your head resting against the frame. The two houses are not far away from each other and you see him grinning as he sits at the window as well, pulling out his phone, a moment later yours starts buzzing on the nightstand. You quickly grab it, and go back to the window.

“Creeping on me, eh?” he hums into the phone and you roll your eyes at him.

“Was just admiring the street lights, don’t flatter yourself, your head is getting too big,” you huff, but you can’t push your smirk down.

“Admit it, you were hoping to see me roam around naked, weren’t you?”

“As if I haven’t seen you like that before,” you snort making him laugh too. It’s true, Harry has never been shy to get rid of his clothes and he also doesn’t bother to draw the blinds whenever he is changing. You once saw him butt naked when he was nineteen, and when you told him to close the blinds next time he is changing, he just shrugged with a smug smile.

“’M not ashamed of anything, Love,” he told you and you had to turn away because you were blushing for sure.

“Right, you’re a fan of putting yourself on full display when you’re naked, almost forgot,” you chuckle shaking your head. “Millions of girls have the picture of you, lying naked on their walls.”

“You one of them?” he cheekily asks.

“Nah, doesn’t go well with the vibe of my apartment.”

“Shame. Though I think it would definitely look amazin’ above your bed, Love.”

“Now would it? I don’t know about that.”

“I’ll get you a copy framed,” he smirks and you can see it clear even from the distance. “Y’ know what? I’ll make you an exclusive one. One that nobody else has, how does that sound?”

“I can’t believe you, Styles,” you chuckle shaking your head. “I’m not gonna answer this, just gonna head to bed. You should too.”

“So we’re not sharing any secrets like we used to? Thought you’d have something fo’ me.”

“You know everything, Harry,” you sigh with a soft smile, though your heart skips a beat. He does know everything, except one big, fat, heavy secret you’ve been carrying around for way too long, that will probably stay with you forever.

“Right. Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Night, Harry.”

“Good night, Love,” he murmurs and you know he is smiling, thought he steps away from the window as he says goodbye and you do the same before ending the call.

***

“Hey! That’s mine!” you protest as Harry steals another roasted chestnut from your little paper bag, but you can’t stay mad at him when he is smiling at you so sweetly.

“Sorry, tastes better when it’s someone else’s.”

“Sure,” you snort and just let him get as many as he wants. You wouldn’t have eaten it all anyway.

It’s quite cold out in the town, but at least there’s no rain or storm, so the weather didn’t try to ruin your little trip to the Christmas market.

Gemma calls out for Harry to show him something and you just keep wandering between the booths, enjoying the atmosphere quite a lot, you have no idea when was the last time you got to come to the market, though you always loved coming when you were younger.

Finishing up your chestnuts you throw the paper bag into a trash can and turn around to find the rest of your little group, spotting Harry and Gemma deep in discussion next to a booth that offers handmade ceramic mugs. As you walk closer it almost seems like as if they were having a fight, which is just odd, they rarely do that.

“Just get your head out of your arse!” you catch Gemma telling her brother who only groans in frustration before he spots you, a smile plastering across his face.

“Hey, there you are!” he beams.

“Everything alright?” you ask looking at them.

“Sure, just Gemma is being a little nosy, is all,” Harry waves in dismiss. You glance over to Gems, but she is already back in discussion with Michal so you decide to drop it. “You ate all the chestnuts?” Harry asks offended, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“Well, it was mine, so of course I ate them!”

“Selfish,” he narrows his eyes at you, but you both know it’s just a joke.

You walk further down in the aisle, occasionally stopping at some of the booth when you spot a place that offers hot chocolate in cute little mugs that you can take home with you if you’d like, or just take it back and get your money back.

“Oh look!” you gasp excitedly and head towards the hot chocolate booth. The old lady smiles brightly at the two of you as you take a look at all the choices. “Oh my god, they have caramel flavored!” you cheer, basically already drooling at the thought of a good, caramel flavored hot chocolate.

“What can I get for the lovely couple?” the lady smiles warmly at the two of you and you freeze at her assumption.

“Oh we—“ you start, but Harry cuts you off.

“A caramel flavored and a plain one, please,” he orders, without even batting an eye about how the lady just called you a couple. You can feel your cheeks heating up at the thought, but you try to calm yourself. He probably just didn’t want to get into explaining that you two are not an item and let her think what she wanted.

The nice lady hands you your mug and you take Harry’s as well as he pays for both of them. You would try to argue with him and pay yours, but you are already used to how stubborn he is and he never lets you split anything, it’s always on him.

“Thank you, have a nice day!” Harry calls out to the lady before the two of you leave. You peek at him handing him his mug, looking for any clue that would give away if this little scene got him just as bothered as it did you, but he looks perfectly fine and relaxed, so you decide not to bring it up. You’re sure he didn’t think much of it.

Your little stroll stretches into the afternoon, the four of you decide to have lunch out there too, then you just opt for a walk in town as Gemma wants to do a quick last minute Christmas shopping, so by the time you get home Anne is already over at yours helping your mum with dinner. Tonight you are all eating at yours, then tomorrow it’s the Styles’ turn to host, this is how you agreed this year.

“Woah, it smells amazing!” you call out walking into the house. The delicious smells fill up the whole place and you hear the two women giggling in the kitchen.

“Hi Honey, how was the market?” your mum greets you, a glass of red wine in her hand and the same goes for Anne.

“Great, we have a new mug,” you say holding up the emptied out hot chocolate mug. Stepping to the sink you wash it quickly and drying off you put it away in one of the cabinets.

You stick around in the kitchen and not so much later Harry comes over, the two of you leave your mums alone and get comfortable in front of the telly.

All channels are filled with holiday movies and you don’t mind, really, you like them all even if you’ve seen them a million times, you still find them funny and cute. Harry feels the same way, so when you settle on Love Actually he doesn’t say a word.

What startles you is that he grabs your ankles and pulls your legs over his lap, a small shriek escaping your mouth since you weren’t expecting him to do that. You’re sitting sideways, your legs are bent at the knee and Harry is kind of hugging them as his eyes are glued to the screen.

You find it rather hard to focus on the movie when Harry’s fingers keep fidgeting on your legs, they keep running up and down, sometimes he lays his hands flat on your knees, there’s no spot he hasn’t touched since you started watching the movie.

About an hour into the film he turns to you and you look at him in question.

“’M in the mood to cuddle,” he announces and starts moving around, not even letting you protest as he basically crawls to your lap, resting his head on your stomach as the two of you lay on the couch.

“Am I now your personal pillow?” you ask chuckling, but you wouldn’t want him to move for anything. Feeling him weigh down on you just feels so warm and simple but amazing.

“The best one,” he mumbles, bringing a hand to your side as you let your fingers comb through his curls.

You keep massaging his scalp and he lets out soft moans when you go over a soft spot, you can’t help but chuckle as he melts under your hands. His fingers start drawing circles on your side and the movie is long forgotten by you, all you can focus on is how great it is to have Harry so close to you. He is known to be a physical person, you are used to hugs and touches, but it seems like he is a little needier now than the usual.

You don’t mind it though, you just try to enjoy the moment, because it can end anytime.

Gemma and Michal come over a little before seven, and while your mums finish up the cooking the four of you set the table. You grab the crystal glasses and start placing them to the table, Harry lending you a hand. Once the table is all set you shuffle into the kitchen to see if there’s anything you can help with, Harry following you behind, placing a hand to the small of your back.

As you stand and wait for you mum to finish up the meals so you can help carry them to the table you feel Harry’s hand wander over to your hip, giving it a squeeze as he stands closer, so his chest is pressed against your back.

“Harry?” you ask a little out of breath.

“Hm?” he innocently hums.

“What’s with you today?” Turning your head to the side your eyes lock with his, but he just shrugs smiling.

“Guess I just missed yeh a lot.”

“You’re weird,” you chuckle shaking your head, but don’t make an effort to push him away. His touch feels way too good to put an end to it and you just want to be selfish a little longer.

His hands leave you when the two of you help to bring the food to the table, and you almost wish they would just return, but you gotta swallow the thought.

The food is amazing, as always. You all sip on some wine, just having a genuinely good time, enjoying that all of you are back at one place, something that rarely happens now that all three of you kids are all grown up.

At one point Harry rests his arm on the back of your chair, no one seems to notice but you. All these little things have been driving you crazy all day and your mind seems to be playing a nasty game with you. There’s no way Harry thinks of these details more than what they are, a friendly gesture towards an old friend of his.

When Gemma is telling a story about some weird guy she met at work Harry reaches up and pushes your hair behind your ear, his finger lingering over your neck a little longer than you would have expected. Turning to face him you give him a questioning look, not sure what to think about his needy and touchy self all of a sudden.

“What?” you mouth him, but he just smiles at you absentmindedly, curling a strand of hair around his finger, playing with it for a moment before letting go of it and going for another lock. You reach up and pull his hand away, feeling yourself heating up from his touch, but when you are about to let go of his hand he grabs yours, lacing your fingers together with yours as he rests them on his thigh.

“Harry…” you breathe out, glancing at the others, relieved to see that they are not paying much attention to the two of you.

“What? Am I not allowed to touch you?” he asks with a smug smirk and you roll your eyes at him.

“As I said, you’re weird,” you mumble under your breath looking down at your now empty plate. Harry gives your hand a squeeze.

“But like, the good kind of weird, yeah?”

“Shut up,” you chuckle shaking your head at him.

You try to tell yourself he is just needy because it’s been so long since you last saw each other. It can’t be more, you push even the smallest thought to the back of your mind, though it surely lingers there throughout the evening.

He helps you with washing the dishes, you stand arm to arm at the sink as you scrub the plates and hand over to him for drying. He gently hums to himself all along, swaying his hips, bumping against yours. At first you resist it, but then you catch the rhythm and start moving along, so your hips meet in the middle before swinging to the opposite side.

“What’s the song?” you ask finishing up the last plate.

“Just something random,” he shrugs smirking over at you. You hand him the last plate, he is still singing, making up gibberish lyrics to his song and once he puts the plate down he throws the kitchen cloth to the counter and easily grabs your waist pulling you against him as he starts swaying with you to his impromptu song. You let out a small shriek at the sudden movement, but eventually melt into his hold. The humming slowly turns into an all too familiar melody as Harry starts singing Sweet Creature into your ear, slow dancing in the kitchen while you hear your mums and Gemma laugh outside somewhere.

Your hands run up his arms and stop behind his neck as you lock your fingers and let him hold you close, his palms are pressed to your waist, fingers gently stroking you through the fabric of your shirt. You take a deep breath and his cologne fills your nose, one of your favorite scents, sometimes you just wish you could spray it on your pillow so it would always smell like him.

“Sweet creature, wherever I go, you bring me home…” he softly sings, leaning back just enough for your eyes to meet. It feels like your heart is about to burst out of your chest, it’s not the first time you feel so intimidated by him, like you could pass out any moment, but this is a little different. As if his eyes were telling you another story, but you can’t completely make up the words.

“Sweet creature, when I run out of road, you bring me home, you’ll bring me home.” He finishes the song, hums the closing melody and you watch him in complete awe. Your lips part when you catch his gaze move down to them and you swear you see him leaning closer, as if he is about to kiss you. Your breath gets caught in your throat, he is so close, just a few more inches and you’d taste those perfect lips of his, the ones you’ve been dreaming about for way too long.

It almost happens, it seems, but just when that last push is about to set in Gemma waltz into the kitchen and you step back faster than light, pushing him away even though the sudden lack of his touch is more painful than you were expecting.

“You guys—Oh, what’s up?” she asks stopping at the door and you feel yourself getting redder with each passing moment, the heat crawling up your neck, ears cheeks, right to the top of your head. What were you thinking? You let yourself believe Harry would ever kiss you, this whole scene was nothing more than just a friendly moment the two of you were sharing.

“I’m—sorry,” you breathe out making your way out of the kitchen, right up to your room to have some well needed space.

“Way to ruin everything,” Harry snickers at his sister.

“You joking? You wanted to kiss her in her mum’s kitchen?” Gemma snaps at him in disbelief.

“We were having a moment,” he mumbles rubbing his face with his hands. “Up until you stomped in with your big mouth.”

“Well, if you were havin’ a moment, just make it happen again.”

“As if it’s that easy, Gemma!” he scoffs throwing his hands in the air.

“Man up and tell her how you feel, don’t have to complicate it too much,” she shrugs before walking out and leaving her brother alone. Harry growls in frustration, the gears in his head turning wildly as he is trying to figure out how to come clear to you about his feelings.

Meanwhile, up in your room you get out your laptop and busy yourself with checking up on messages and emails you’ve been ignoring, hoping that the uneasy feeling in your chest will ease very soon. Your hands were shaking when you locked yourself up in your room, but as you get focused on other tasks you slowly gain your balance back.

You kind of even forget that the Styles’ were over, you only realize that you abruptly pulled yourself out of the evening when there’s a soft knock on your door.

“Come on in!” you call out and a moment later Harry’s head pops in, eyes softly falling on your sitting figure on the bed. “Hey,” you smile at him faintly.

“Hey. Thought you were sleepin’s or summat.” Coming inside he closes the door behind him then sits on your plush rug in the middle of the room.

“Just… sorted some work related things out,” you sigh.

“Working during the holidays? Tha’s not healthy.”

“I know, I’m done,” you smile shutting the laptop down and putting it aside. “Sorry I disappeared, I just—“

“No worries,” Harry shakes his head. “Mum and Gems went home, they thought you were sleeping too, tha’s why they didn’t say goodbye.”

“Oh, alright.”

“But I thought we could have a sleepover,” he peeks at you with a boyish smile.

“What, like we did in middle school?” you chuckle.

“Yea, thought it would be fun.”

“Well, I don’t think my bed would fit us comfortably and we don’t have the mattress anymore that you used to sleep on,” you tell him looking around.

“Nonsense, I’m not tha’ big,” he insists hopping to his feet and throwing himself on the bed, ignoring that you’re already there. His body takes up more than half on the bed , limbs wrapping around you as he brings you down to the mattress next to him, you can’t help the laugh that leaves your lips.

“You’re like a gigantic baby, Harry!” you laugh as he keeps you down on the bed with his arm.

“It’s perfectly fine for two people,” he mumbles with a smirk, closing his eyes as his head sinks into your pillow.

“Do you ever get no as an answer?” you ask looking at him in awe. You can never get used to seeing him so up close, like not many get to.

“No,” he huffs in satisfaction, his arm bringing you closer to him and you just giggle at him.

“I’m not sleeping just yet, gotta have a shower first.”

“Do what you want, I’ll be here,” he mumbles but you snort at him.

“You’re not sleeping in my bed without having a shower,” you tell him before you grab your pajamas and head to the bathroom.

You have a quick shower and get done with all your evening business. Returning to your room you find Harry sitting on the floor, his back against the side of the bed as he is scrolling through his phone.

“Does mum know you’re staying over?” you ask him as you throw your used clothes into the hamper, moving around the room while feeling his eyes on you.

“Yeah. ‘S all good.”

“You need a towel?”

“Yes please,” he says pushing himself up from the floor.

“Clothes?” you ask with an arched brow. He just grins at you and it’s enough of an answer. “Here,” you give him the shirt and sweats he has left at yours quite some time ago, along with a clean towel.

“Thanks,” he smirks before leaving to occupy the bathroom.

He doesn’t take long in there, you’re lying in bed already when he returns, smelling like your shower gel, strawberry and melon.

He throws his clothes to the chair in the corner and then lies beside you on the bed. You scoot over to the wall to give him space, but he is quick to bring you closer to him once he has made himself comfortable. You lay your head on his shoulder as you are both scrolling through your phones.

When you had enough, you throw yours to the nightstand, and stay cuddled up to his side.

“Do you remember the last time I slept here?” he asks tossing his phone to the nightstand and bringing his arms around you.

“Mm, was it at my twentieth birthday?”

“Yeah. You were so wasted,” he chuckles and you smirk to yourself

“But you took good care of me.”

“I did. You were so cute, rambling about how much you love me when I took you home from the pub.”

You bite into your bottom lip. You still remember that night vividly. Your birthday party had gone a little wild and you had gotten drunker than you intended to. Luckily, he was there to bring your home and he stayed in the bathroom with you as you threw up everything you ate and drank that evening. Then he made you take a shower, got you fresh clothes out and helped you get into bed. He slept next to you that night, holding you in his arms, gently caressing your back and upper arm as you fell into your drunken slumber. In the morning you told yourself he just did what any other friend would do, helping you out when you were clearly knocked out, but he made you breakfast in the morning since your mum was working all night and morning and he stayed over later the afternoon to make sure you were alright.

What you told him in your drunken state about loving him, it wasn’t just your friendly side, it was your drunken self coming clear to him, telling him that you are in love with him, but he didn’t take it seriously and you were too ashamed and awkward to even bring it up to him after that, so it was all forgotten very soon.

Following that you planned on telling him how you feel, several times. You even wrote a little speech you planned to give him when the time comes, but you couldn’t do it. The fear of losing him if he doesn’t feel the same was stronger than you expected and every time you had the chance to come clear, you chickened out. The thought of losing him as a friend is way worse than having to push your feelings down... forever. You just can’t imagine your life without Harry in it and you can’t risk losing him.

The two of you talk for quite a while, laughing about the good old times, until you both fall asleep. Sometime in the middle of the night you wake up and feel Harry wrapped around you, his head lying on your chest as he is snoring softly. He truly is like a big baby, an arm thrown over your stomach, his legs tangled with yours. Good Lord, how amazing it feels to have him so close to you!

Reaching up you tangle your fingers through his hair gently so he doesn’t wake up, his soft curls glide between your fingers easily and lifting your head you kiss the top of his head before letting yourself drift back to sleep.

When you open your eyes the next time the situation is the opposite, you are the one cuddled up to Harry’s side who is scrolling through his phone with one hand, keeping the other one on your arm.

“Mornin’, sleepy head,” he chuckles softly when he sees you awake.

“Mmm, what time is it?” you ask letting your head rest on his chest a little longer.

“Quarter to nine. You can sleep a little more if you want, it’s not that late.”

“No, I promised mum I’d help her wrap gifts,” you sigh rolling over to your stomach as you push yourself up to your elbows to look at him. “Love the double chin you got going there,” you tease him sleepily and he just smirks.

“Yea? Quite cute, right? Worked a lot on it,” he jokes running his finger over it before letting out a chuckle. “Ready for our battle today?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be. You are going down this year, Styles,” you tell him pushing yourself up into a sitting position. Harry only pushes himself further on the bed enough to rest his head against the headboard.

“Oh really? I wouldn’t be that sure about tha’,” he warns you, but you are feeling pretty confident about your performance this year. There’s no way he can top it.

“We’ll see. Alright, I need a coffee. Want something for breakfast?” you ask him crawling out of the bed.

“Yeah, that would be nice.”

Your mum is already in the kitchen, sipping on her morning coffee while reading the paper. She doesn’t find it even a bit weird that Harry spent the night at yours, it’s been quite the usual for you. Harry helps you make eggs and bacon and the three of you eat together, having a lovely time and you genuinely feel like it’s just like in the good old times when you were still living home and Harry wasn’t Harry Styles, but the boy from across the street.

He goes home after breakfast to help his own mum with the cooking for tonight’s dinner and you don’t do much for the rest of the day, just spend time with your mum, watch movies and relax. It’s nice to unwind after such a busy year behind you.

Not long before five you go to take a shower and get ready to head over to the Styles’ and you pack everything you’ll need for the evening: gifts, ugly sweater, accessories. Harry is going down this year for sure.

It’s a little past six when you and your mum walk across the street, Anne’s Christmas lights are putting the little town house into the spirit for sure. You don’t even ring the bell, just walk straight in, like you always do. The Christmas tree stands tall in their living room and the table is already nicely set. Gemma and Michal are snuggled up on the couch while Harry is helping Anne in the kitchen with the finishing touches.

“I’m rooting for you this year,” Gemma winks at you when you set down your bag in the corner that has everything you’ll need for your performance.

“He’s gonna lose this round,” you smirk proudly, very sure in yourself.

Harry greets you with a bright smile and a tight hug when he walks into the living room, as if you didn’t just see each other a few hours earlier.

When the food is ready you all sit down to eat, and though you’re trying your best to focus on the conversation, you’re getting excited about tonight’s karaoke battle.

“Anxious much?” Harry asks you quietly.

“Why are you asking?”

He doesn’t answer, just places a hand to your thigh stopping it from shaking, making you realize you’ve been probably bouncing it all along. He smirks at you as you just roll your eyes at him.

“’S okay, you can handle one more year of losing,” he teases you and you give him an arched eyebrow.

“Don’t be so full of yourself, Harry,” you warn him, but he just squeezes your thigh again before bringing his hands back up to the table, leaving you a little breathless with his touch.

You all help clean up the table after dinner and when it’s done, you gather in the living room to open gifts.

When Harry’s career launched, the first few years you felt anxious about gifting him, because you felt like you couldn’t give him enough. He had all the money and bought everything he needed for himself, there wasn’t much you could give him. But when one time, you admitted to him this struggle of yours he assured you that it doesn’t matter what you give him, it’ll always be precious to him.

“You thought about me, you took the time to buy something for me, and that’s more than enough, Y/N,” he told you and though it took you time, but you got used to it. Especially when you saw the same excitement in his eyes every time you gifted something to him, you slowly but surely realized he wasn’t expecting a Gucci suit, but a thoughtful gesture.

Gathering in the living room you open the presents one by one and just as always, everyone was quite creative with the gifts. You can’t help but still feel a little anxious when Harry grabs his gift from you. Giving you an excited look he unties the little bow on the top and tears the wrapping paper off.

“Y/N!” he breathes out, eyes softening as he pulls the knitted cardigan out of the box.

“I always saw you wearing all sorts of cardigans and so I finally had a reason to learn how to knit, so I thought I would make one for you,” you ramble as he holds up the baby blue cardigan that has little daisies all over the front. It took you an entire week to just make the daisies, you worked on the whole cardigan for more than two months, usually in the middle of the night, staying up until unholy hours to finish in time.

But Harry’s smile is worth it all, he is beaming, clearly so in love with what you made him, so you breathe out relieved. He then puts it aside and wraps his arms around you pulling you into the tightest hug.

“Thank you, I love it so much,” he mumbles and kisses your temple and you breathe in his sweet scent, burying yourself in his embrace, hugging his waist.

When you part, Harry reaches for a box from under the tree and hands it to you, a nervous smile tugging on his lips. You can tell he wrapped the gift himself, the silver wrapping paper is a little uneven, but the huge rainbow colored bow on the top is the perfect touch that makes it like a piece of him.

You carefully tear the paper off, peeking inside you just see a plain box that doesn’t give much away. Glancing up at Harry you see how he is anxiously biting his bottom lip, even though you’d be happy with a gift as small as a candle. It’s the thought that counts.

“I-I wasn’t sure if this was the one you mentioned to me, so I hope it’s gonna be alright,” he mumbles, eyes fixed on your hands as they open the box, while you try to think back what you have told him about that caught his attention, but you just can’t recall what you wanted to get so badly you told Harry about it.

As you open the box you don’t process what it is immediately, the plastic wrapper making it hard to figure it out, but when you carefully pull out the object, you gasp in surprise.

“Harry!” you breathe out as you pull off the plastic of the old, vintage polaroid camera. It’s not one of these new types you can buy in stores easily, this is a classic, must have quite a history behind it.

Now you vaguely remember talking about longing for an oldschool, vintage camera, but it was months ago and you’ve forgotten about the whole thing since these devices cost a fortune because there aren’t many left from them. But now there’s one in your hands, because Harry not only listened to you, but he remembered and went out of his way to find you one in amazing condition.

“This must have cost a fortune!” you huff, your heart pounding in your chest, though you already know it doesn’t matter to him.

“This face is worth every penny,” he smiles at you softly before you throw yourself at him for another round of hugging. This man surely knows how to have you wrapped around his fingers.

The two of you sit on the floor as you figure out how to make the camera work, Harry bought everything needed, so you have a few packs of films as well. When it’s all done you bring it up to your face and aim it at Harry. It takes him a moment to realize that you’re about to snap your first photo and he tries to snatch the camera away, but it’s too late, the flash goes off and the device pushes out the undeveloped picture.

“You wasted your first snap on me?” he protests rubbing his eyes after the flash blinded him for a little.

“It’s not a waste,” you tell him as you patiently wait for the picture to finally appear.

Slowly, the colors start to show and in a couple of minutes Harry’s face appears, his hand reaching in the direction of the camera, looking out of focus, only his face appearing clearly. He looks so delicate, his eyes dazzling as a soft smile plays on his lips. This moment now will live forever not just in your mind, but on this photo.

Harry goes out with his karaoke performance this year for sure and you’d be actually anxious about him winning if only you didn’t have the absolutely best performance right in your pocket.

His sweater this year features some really ugly looking penguins and a horroristic reindeer on the back, it’s really ugly and you can’t even imagine who thought it would be fine to make it and then sell it. His choice of music is also excellent, he has a great eye for songs you’d never imagine him perform and then shock everyone with it. This year, he chose Rude Boy by none other than Rihanna, and it’s fantastic, no one can make it through the song without crying. Harry makes sure to put on his best show, even dancing and twerking unapologetically, trying everything to win the battle and you are amazed by his effort. Above all the fun and jokes, he nails the song, that’s undeniable. It always baffles you how he can just slay any and all genres, even the ones that stand a million miles away from his style.

When the song is over, you all cheer for him, because he truly deserves it. He grins down at you in victory, but you just give him a challenging smirk.

“You can just give up now, if you want,” he teases you as you stand up from the couch and the two of you trade places.

“Oh, I think you should be the one to worry about losing,” you warn him grabbing your bag. Stepping to Gemma you whisper into her ear, instructing her to put on your song when you call out from the bathroom, since you are planning on do a grandiose entrance. When she hears what song you’ll be singing she gasps.

“Oh my fucking God, no way!” he looks at your with wide eyes.

“What? What is it?” Harry asks, dying to know what you just told his sister, but you shake your head at him.

“Patience,” you tell him before locking yourself up in the bathroom.

This year, you didn’t find the sweater, the sweater found you. On one of your thrift tours, you were digging up a huge pile of clothes when you came right across it and you knew what you needed to do.

Putting on the sweater you fix up your hair quickly before putting on your party glasses, the one that lights up if you switch it on. You take one last look at yourself in the mirror and smirk at your reflection knowing well you’ll have everyone dead when you walk out.

“Gemma! You can start it!” you call out with your hand on the doorknob, waiting to hear the music. Gemma quickly starts in and you haven’t even stepped out, you can hear a round of gasps.

Best Song Ever blasts through the speakers and you walk out trying your best to imitate a younger version of Harry, wearing the absolute ugliest Christmas sweater ever, that has the faces of One Direction all over it, filling up every inch of the fabric, and all of them have poorly photoshopped Santa hats on, it’s just literal trash and ridiculously perfect for the battle.

You grab the mic and start singing as everyone screams in the room. You jump, sing and even do the dance moves the boys do in the original music video, and when you look at Harry you see him staring at you in disbelief and total defeat. Everyone knows you won, nothing can top this performance ever and you could burst from the sweet feeling of victory.

By the end of the song everyone is up on their feet dancing and singing with you, a mini party forming in the middle of the living room and you all scream the last lines as the song comes to its end.

“I think we don’t even need to vote this time,” you say when the music stops, everyone screaming in agreement while Harry stares down at you, trying to hide his growing smirk.

“Where did you even find this?” he asks chuckling as he takes a better look at the sweater.

“At a thrift store, it called out my name, knew it’d be perfect.”

“It really is ugly, if I’m being honest,” he sighs, his eyes meeting yours again. “And the song… I accept defeat, you earned this victory, Y/N,” he tells you bowing and admitting your victory.

Later that night everyone is so keen on watching Holiday, you agree to stay even though you feel your eyelids heavily weighing down, threatening to close with each passing moment. You let your head rest on Harry’s shoulder and he presses his cheek against the crown of your head.

It’s not a surprise you fall asleep halfway into the movie, but what you weren’t expecting is to wake up and find yourself not on the couch anymore, but in Harry’s bed. It’s dark, only the moon is shining through his windows and as you turn to the right you see that he is sleeping peacefully next to you on his back, one arm spread next to him, hand hanging from the edge, the other one resting on his stomach, rising and falling in a slow rhythm.

Squinting your eyes you look at the digital clock on his dresser, it reads 3:23 am so you’ve been asleep for quite a few hours now. You don’t even remember him bringing you up here, but you’re definitely not mad that he didn’t bring you home, just up to his room.

Rolling to your side you give yourself a moment to adorn his beauty without fearing he would catch your wandering eyes. Everything seems so perfect about him, the line of his nose, his cupid’s bow that delicately rolls into her lips. The crease between his eyebrows, his soft skin on his cheeks, down his neck that runs into his broad shoulders and inked, strong arms. You truly think there’s no man that could compare to him and you are lucky enough to live your life so close to him, be able to touch him, hear his voice whenever you miss him, see his smile and share a connection with him.

It’s so silly, but you think of him as your personal ray of sunshine in your life. Just the smallest things about him can brighten your worst day, he’ll always have a special place in your heart, no matter where life takes the two of you.

Watching him sleeping you allow yourself to break free from your doubts and fears and scooting closer you shyly curl up to his side, your head resting on his shoulder, but you can’t even make yourself comfortable before you feel him moving under you.

Sucking on your breath you think he’ll push you away, not wanting you so close, but instead, he pulls his arm from under you, curling around your frame as he pulls you tight to him, almost making you lie on top of him. Your whole body is pressed against him and you mingle a leg between his long ones under the soft sheets. You let out a long huff at the warm touch of his body against your skin, completely lost in him.

“You alright?” he mumbles in his sleep laced voice, his eyes remain closed.

“Yeah. Is this okay?” you nervously ask as you lay your hand flat on his stomach. He brings his hand that was hanging from the bed on his other side and covers yours, as he squeezes you tight to his side.

“’M all yours,” he breathes out, his words sending a shiver down your spine. You’re sure he didn’t mean it like that, but it warmed your heart to hear it from him and you let your mind play with the thought that there was more behind his words than a friendly manner.

Nuzzling your head into his chest you close your eyes and listening to his steady heartbeat you let yourself fall back asleep.

Your morning is filled with coffee, pancakes, laughter and great company. Harry doesn’t let you leave without having breakfast with them, so you sit with the Styles family and laugh about the craziest stories from your teenage years.

“Remember when we tried to run away?” Harry grins at you, his red mug that had white polka dots all over it in his hands as he eyes you.

“Oh, how could I forget that?” you huff and Gemma turns to you with surprise in her eyes.

“Wait, I didn’t know about that!”

“Because we didn’t get too far,” Harry laughs. “We were, what, like fifteen?”

“Yeah, it was a few weeks after my fifteenth birthday,” you nod smiling.

“I had a fight with mum about God knows what, then stormed over to Y/N’s and talked her into running away. So we packed our backpacks and left.”

“Where did you go?” Michal asks with an amused grin as he listens to the story.

“We didn’t want to go into town, running into anyone we know, so we thought we would just go straight out to the meadow that’s there,” Harry says gesturing towards the window. The edge of the town is not so war, and a huge meadow lies there, a little stream running across it. “We walked for quite long, but then it started to get dark and we had nowhere to go, so we just ended up coming back home. No one even noticed we were gone, they thought we just went out to bike or something,” he finishes laughing.

“You knew about this?” Gemma asks Anne.

“Yeah, he came clear the next day, thinking he would piss me off with it, but I didn’t care, he came back for dinner, so it was alright,” Anne explains laughing.

It’s been so long since it happened, but I still remember it vividly, only that it was a more dramatic memory back then, now I can only laugh at it.

“We should go for a walk today,” Harry prompts to you.

“Wanna run away again?” you tease him.

“Always,” he chuckles.

You help cleaning up and agree with Harry to meet outside in an hour to take a walk to the meadow. Going home you take a shower and wash the dishes your mum left in the sink when she left for her morning shift. You put on a pair of boyfriend jeans, a warm sweater and your jacket with your trusty boots and you walk out the house right when Harry steps out as well. He grins in your way as the two of you meet in the middle of the street. He holds his arm out for you.

“M’ lady?” he smirks as you link your arm with his and the two of you head out for your little walk. It’s a gloomy day, might rain later as well, but it’s dry so far, so you’re just hoping to get home before it starts raining. Your runaway attempt wasn’t the only time the two of you came out here, it was kind of your place when you felt like having a break from everyone else. You biked out here, brought your favorite snacks and just ran around, enjoying the stillness.

However it also holds a bitter memory as well.

A little further down among the trees happened Harry’s first kiss and you witnessed it, feeling your heart break to a million pieces when you saw him lock lips with someone who wasn’t you.

Debby Hamilton was a friend of yours in sixth grade, you’d say, your only friend beside Harry and the three of you often hung out together around that time. Debby was a delight, you always desired to be more like her, boys liked her and she knew it damn well, but it didn’t make her cocky and egoistic. You always thought Harry had a crush on her, why would have he? They kind of looked cute together.

It was a Friday afternoon and Harry asked if you wanted to come out and listen to his new cassette he got for his old Walkman he refused to get rid of as technology was evolving. You figured he’d want Debby there as well so you invited her along, but didn’t tell Harry. He never made a move on Debby and you thought he was just looking for the right time.

That afternoon, you were supposed to meet them out there at five, but you didn’t leave until half past five and it takes about twenty minutes to get out there. Though you gave them the alone time technically, it still startled you when you found them under one of the oak trees, Debby leaning her back against the tree as Harry stood in front of her. She was smiling up at him sweetly, saying something to him and you were just about to call out for them and apologize for being late when Harry ducked his head and kissed Debby right in front of your eyes.

That was your first and probably worst heartbreak and you were only twelve. You felt betrayed, hopeless and naïve to think Harry would ever have a thing for you when there were girls like Debby. You left without letting them know you were there. When Harry asked you later why you didn’t come you told him you felt sick to your stomach, which wasn’t a total lie, you had quite the nausea after seeing Harry with Debby, but he didn’t have to know all the details.

He later told you about kissing Debby and you pretended like you didn’t know about it. However they never dated and not long after their kiss Debby drifted away from the two of you. Not that you minded, you had a bitter feeling every time you had to look at her after that, jealousy raging in your chest knowing that she got Harry’s first kiss.

He didn’t bring it up after and you weren’t keen on talking about it, but you still know which tree they were standing under and now as you near the area you see that it still stands tall near the tiny stream.

Peeking up at Harry you see that his eyes are focused on the same tree, but then he catches you looking.

“Memories?” you innocently ask, feeling your chest tightening. You don’t even know why you asked. It’s been over a decade since that kiss, you are both adults, but you still can’t help the sadness that washes over you at just the thought, why would you want to get him talk about it now?

“’S just… that’s the tree I kissed Debby when I was twelve,” he mumbles with a shrug. Biting into your bottom lip you look at the old oak tree nodding your head and before you could stop yourself, you speak up.

“I know.”

“What? How would you? I never told you,” Harry asks stopping, a puzzled look pulling on his face.

“Well I… It doesn’t matter,” you sigh, regretting ever opening your mouth.

“It does. Tell me!” he pleads standing in front of you.

“I know it, because… I was here.”

“You what?”

“I came, I was just very late. And when I arrived you two were standing there and I saw you kiss. I thought I shouldn’t interrupt whatever was happening so I went home and let you two be,” you explain, changing it up a little bit.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why is it important that I saw it? It doesn’t change anything, right?” you ask with a smile that you intended to look innocent, but deep down it’s filled with pain.

Harry opens his mouth as if he wants to say something, but then remains silent and you are done talking about it, so you just quietly keep walking, Harry catching up with you a few moments later.

It’s awfully quiet after your revelation, it seems like Harry is deep in his thoughts and though you’re dying to know what’s occupying his bright thoughts, you’re kind of afraid you’d hear something you didn’t want to.

The two of you soon head back home and slowly, but you forget about the whole Debby thing. Harry starts talking again, but he looks a little keyed up still when you reach your street.

“Wanna come over later?” you ask standing on the pavement in front of your house, it’s just an innocent question. Harry nods his head.

“Sure. Is your mum working?” he asks glancing at the house, though he knows she is, the car is not on the driveway.

“Yeah. She’ll be home around six.”

He nods again and you want to ask if he is alright, but you decide not to. You share a quick hug before he heads over to his home and you do the same. The house waits for you in silence and when the door clicks behind you, it weighs down on you heavier than you were expecting. You hang your jacket, kick your boots off and throw yourself to the couch, covering your eyes with your arm as you huff out in frustration. You feel silly for getting upset about such a small thing even after so much time, but you just can’t help it.

You barely realize the sound of the front door opening, taking your arm off your eyes you see Harry walk in, eyebrows furrowed, a worried look on his handsome face.

“Harry—“ “I was waiting for you that day,” he simply says as you sit up with wide eyes, confused about what he is really talking about.

“What?”

“That day, we agreed to meet out there to listen to my new Stevie Wonder cassette, but you didn’t show up, Debby did even though I didn’t invite her out there.”

“Well, I did, thought you wanted her there too,” you explain, startled by the situation.

“I would have invited her if I wanted her to be there, but I wanted to be with you. Only you.”

“I-I’m sorry?” you breathe out, not seeing where he is going with it.

“Y/N, you don’t understand,” he huffs and he is right. You don’t. “I wanted to meet you, but you never came, or at least I thought. Then Debby showed up, I was frustrated that you weren’t there and she was being all nice, telling me how cute I looked when I was worried and it all just happened so fast and… I didn’t even want to kiss her.” He looks properly upset telling you the story and he takes a deep breath before his eyes meet yours with a hard stare. “I wanted to be with you,” he repeats.

“Harry, I’m sorry, I didn’t—“

He shakes his hair, not even letting you finish, because he knows what you wanted to say and that you still don’t understand the meaning behind his words.

“Y/N, I wanted to kiss you,” he then finally says and you suck on your breath as he continues. “Well, not right then and there, but I’ve been meaning to kiss you, I just didn’t know when. I thought that if we have a moment that afternoon I’d do it, but you never came and I was mad and disappointed. I hated myself for kissing Debby, because I didn’t really want to, it just… happened. I wanted to tell you, and I intended to do it when I told you we kissed, but you acted so happy, I figured you didn’t feel the same way about me as I did for you. So I didn’t tell you the rest, but…” He sighs in defeat, looking for words, but he ran out.

“Why are you telling this to me now?” you ask a little out of breath, your head feeling heavy at the new information you just heard.

“Why didn’t you tell me you saw us and why did you go home without a word?” he asks ignoring your question.

“I… don’t—“

“Don’t try to lie.”

Gulping hard you lick your dried lips as you stare back at him.

“Because I was… jealous.” Your voice comes out only as a whisper. Harry’s lips part as he takes two steps closer to you.

“You had feelings for me?” he asks and you just nod your head, not trusting yourself with your voice. “Do you still have feelings for me?”

“I do,” you whisper your answer and Harry lets out a sharp breath as he leaps across the room in your way. You jump to your feet, thinking that he’ll lash out on your for keeping it a secret and you open your mouth to explain yourself, but you never get to speak up because as Harry reaches you, one hand snaps to the back of your neck, the other one to your waist, yanking you against him as his lips crash to yours.

You gasp in surprise, but it doesn’t take long to kiss him back, your numb mind blindly reacting to his sudden action. Your hands snake up to the back of his neck as you pull him closer, returning his hungry kisses. His soft lips feel so smooth and warm against yours and when his tongue runs along your bottom lip you whimper letting your tongues meet in the middle.

He is intoxicating and it doesn’t help that your adrenaline level is up in the sky, you’ve fantasized about it way too many times, and now that it’s happening your body is burning in flames. He kisses you all over and over again, his body pressing against yours hard and when he even leans in making you lean back, you lose balance and the two of you fall to the couch, both of you gasping as you are forced to part your lips.

“Fuck,” you chuckle as Harry is basically lying on you, holding himself up on his arms, but you feel him everywhere.

“’M sorry, I got a little carried away, but I’ve been dying to do this since forever,” he admits chuckling as he lifts his head and looks down at you with those bright green eyes of his.

“Really?” you breathe out, only slowly processing what’s really just happened.

“Y/N, I’ve been in love with you since I first saw you hiding behind your mum.”

“Idiot, you were just a kid, you weren’t in love,” you chuckle, running up your hands to the back of his neck, your fingers playing with the soft curls. He smirks and nuzzles his nose against yours.

“Oh, I was, I just didn’t know it yet.” Leaning down he pecks your lips softly. “I’ve been meaning to tell you so many times, but I didn’t want it to ruin our friendship. Though I was growing impatient these last few years.”

“Yeah?” you chuckle.

“You can’t imagine,” he huffs shaking his head. I almost kissed you the other day in the kitchen, but Gemma completely ruined the moment.”

“I’m sorry I ran away, I was just—“ “No need to apologize. I guess it all played out well after all, right?” he smirks and you can’t help but chuckle.

“I guess,” you breathe out and the smile slowly fades from your lips. “And now what?” you ask quietly, staring up at him.

“Now… We’ll try to make things work. Test the waters. I’m very serious about this, Y/N,” he tells you. “I’ve been waiting for this my whole life so I’m not gonna let go of you now.”

“You have no idea how happy this is making me,” you choke out feeling the tears forming in your eyes.

“Oh Love, please don’t cry,” he begs and leaning down he kisses your tears away. “I’m right here, with you. Sorry it took me so long you get here, but I’m here now.”

“I know,” you huff blinking away the tears as you pull him down and press your lips to his. “I love you, Harry,” you whisper against his perfect lips. You feel him exhale sharply as he keeps kissing you before he lifts his head so your eyes meet again.

“I’ve always loved you.”

Thank you for reading, let me know what you thought about it!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles xyou #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #fanficmas2020 #fanficmas 2020 #watchmegetobsessed fanficmas #watchmegetobsessed fanficmas 2020

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born-to-lose · 2 years

Text

Best Christmas Ever

Pairing: Joonas Porko x reader

Requested by anon

Summary: Since your homophobic family won't have you over for Christmas, Joonas invites you to spend the holidays with his family.

Tags: implied homo-/transphobia, Christmas, a little angst, fluff

Words: 678

A/N: This one's for all of you whose family is ruining the holidays <3

Tag list: @warriorteam1924 @slashscowboyboots @losers-yurio @lost-in-the-80s @lucyboytom @blood-on-blood @halloween-chick-in-love-with-cas @jennyggggrrr @tuffduff @jonesyownsmyheart @rhyetaylor62 @necro-fucks @the-killer-queenie @dumbass-of-darkness @mikeywaysboyfriend @disrespectfullcalum @kyrju @smells-like-perfect-senses @sweetnightowl @whoreforblindchannel @kellyrosie @thetimecrystal @wearenosaints @wow-ihateithere

Tip me if you want!

You had come out to your family almost a year ago and you should have known that they would treat you differently after finding out you're not cishet, but they sort of broke off contact with you. They still sent you a birthday card for decency's sake but even the text of that was pretty much unemotional, not having more kind words to spare than "Happy birthday! Have a good year".

Still, you hadn't expected to be the only one in your family who didn't get an invitation to their Christmas party. You didn't even think they would have one this year because it was the 21st and you still hadn't heard from them. It was only when your cousin who sporadically showed up at these events asked if you were coming too that you found out you weren't welcome at family get-togethers anymore.

"Are you okay?" Joonas asked in concern as you threw your phone on the coffee table.

You swallowed, biting back tears. "My family won't have me over for Christmas, but other than that, I'm fine."

"For real?" He frowned and you nodded.

"My cousin got an invitation and he shows up once in a blue moon."

He scooted closer to you to wrap you in his arms, holding you tightly. "You don't need them. If you like, you can spend Christmas with my family! They'd love to have you."

"I don't want you to only invite me out of pity," you murmured into his hoodie.

"Not at all! I was going to ask you anyway," he assured you, reaching for the phone and dialing his parents' number.

"Hi mom! I'm bringing (y/n) over for the holidays if that's okay?" He briefly explained the situation and eventually hung up with a smile.

"Sounds like Christmas with the Porkos for you!" he announced happily.

In the morning of Christmas Eve, you and Joonas arrived at his family's house and his mother was already standing by the door, hugging Joonas first and then you. "(Y/n)! It's so nice to have you here! Joonas told me what happened… I'm sorry, that's terrible. But you're always welcome here!"

You became emotional at her words. You already knew they looked forward to seeing you every time you visited them because they liked you a lot, but hearing that you were always welcome in this house made you feel validated.

"It's great to see you all too! Thank you so much for letting me come on such short notice."

"Oh, that's no problem. Come in," she said, letting the two of you inside.

You came just before they were starting to put up the tree. The whole family decorated it together and you helped too. You were involved in all their Christmas activities, including baking gingerbread cookies, singing songs which Joonas accompanied on the guitar and watching a TV program they apparently never missed on Christmas Eve.

This was all you could ever ask for and since you had arrived here, you hadn't spent a single thought on your own family and what they were possibly doing right now. Your mind was right here and you couldn't put it into words how much you appreciated being here with your boyfriend and his family. Everything was so peaceful and it felt like you were really becoming part of this family now.

"If I may just say something…?" you asked before dinner and Joonas's parents nodded with a smile. "I've only been here for a few hours, but I already want to thank you all for making this my best Christmas ever. You've always made me feel nothing but welcome here and you've shown me what it means to be a family. Thank you so much."

Now you couldn't hold back the tears anymore and Joonas hugged you. "Aw don't cry babe! You deserve only the best."

"We're happy to do that!" his mom replied, which found the approval of the rest of them.

Honestly, if you were going to spend more holidays with them in the future, you wouldn't mind.

#mel writes #joonas porko #joonas porko x reader #joonas porko imagine #joonas porko fic #blind channel #blind channel x reader #blind channel imagine #blind channel fic

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radiorenjun · 3 years

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I Don't Need It

• Pairing: Na Jaemin x Reader

• Genre: Angst, Comedy, Fluff

• Na Jaemin despised the idea of soulmates, he wanted to fight against fate for choosing his soulmate for him. Even if it means his stubborn childhood best friend wouldn't stop trying to make him accept about the similar tattoos on their wrists.

• Warnings: mental breakdowns, heartbreak, rejection, major angst, arguments, flashbacks, physical injuries, fighting, underaged drinking, panic attacks, mentions of death, slight mentions of druGS?, terribly written i dont rlly like this chapt.

• Wordcount : 6.1 k

• Masterlist here!

• Chapters: XIII, XIV

Life had many pros and cons, but people always preferred to see the bright side of it. As they say one of the best feelings in the world was the feeling you get when you found your soulmate, your other half. You had heard a countless amount of stories about it in your youth. Mainly from your grandmother. But sadly, you were one of the unfortunate souls who couldn’t experience the feeling for too long.

Your sixteenth birthday was supposed to be filled with joy and excitement. But the moment you saw the ink starting to form on your wrist as soon as you blew your candles caused your heart to weigh down in your chest. At that moment, you remembered the feeling of shock and slight disappointment when you realised you had the same soulmate tattoo as Jaemin.

You remembered standing still in the middle of the room, surrounded by your friends and family who eagerly surrounded you to see your new soulmate tattoo as you entered a midlife crisis on the spot. How your mind turned messy with thoughts as your anxiety got the best of you.

‘My tattoo is the same as Jaemin’s. Jaemin is my soulmate?’

‘Oh god, but he doesn’t want to have a soulmate chosen for him. He wants to find his own love and experience the feeling of slowly falling for someone, I can’t possibly take that wish away from him, right?’

‘I’m his best friend, for pete’s sakes! He’s never going to treat me or look at me the same way again.’

‘This is really ironic. Grandma, you really got what you wanted, huh?’

The whole situation was almost laughable to you. Oh how your grandmother would probably be doing somersaults in her place if she was here to witness this miracle. But alas, that moment you just wanted to turn into stone on the spot. You wanted time to stop. You knew very well that there was a possibility that you won’t be experiencing that life changing feeling your grandmother always rambles about.

Though, you had some hope that maybe. Just maybe, Jaemin would be okay with having you as his soulmate. Maybe he would be happy to find out that his childhood best friend, the person who knows him better than his own family, was his soulmate. Maybe life would give you some mercy and decided that Jaemin would change his mind and you would end up living happily ever after.

‘Come on, he would definitely be glad to find out that someone close to him was his soulmate, right?’

‘I know him like the back of my hand, surely he would be ecstatic to see that we have the same soulmate tattoo!’

‘I’m sure of it!’

‘Grandma said that there’s nothing better than the feeling of finding your soulmate’

‘He’s your best friend, he wouldn’t be disappointed to see that you ended up as his soulmate, right?’

‘You’ll still get that feeling of happiness you’ve been longing to feel for so long, right y/n?’

Of course, you were only getting your hopes up.

When you turned to Jaemin, who was peeking over your shoulder at your wrist to see your tattoo, the look on his face was enough to push your hopes down to the floor. You honestly couldn’t decipher what he was feeling. But it definitely wasn’t anything along the lines of happiness.

‘What’s that look for, Jaem?’

‘Surprised? Definitely. Disappointment? Pretty clear. Sadness? Yep, it was there alright. Misery? Despair? Probably.’

You couldn’t show anyone your sadness though, you had to keep a bright smile until the day was over if you didn’t want to worry anyone. When Jaemin’s eyes met yours, he, too, was surprised to see your calm reaction. The sad smile you gave him was enough to silence him for the rest of the party.

It was quite painful when the rest of your friends and family decided to bombard you with questions of who you might think your soulmate could be. Not wanting to make things more awkward, you just tried your best to answer those questions without showing how upset you were with a simple shrug with Jaemin avoiding your eyes for the rest of the day.

At that moment you didn’t know how much pain you’d be in all because of your stupid soulmate mark.

One of the most hurtful things you’ve ever experienced was watching your friends and relatives find their own soulmates with the look of pure happiness stretched across their faces as you stand there with Jaemin by your side with a smile masking your faces and misery glossing over your eyes.

The one that always stuck to you was that time during Christmas.

It had been a few months since you found out you and Jaemin were soulmates and not much has changed other than your obnoxious flirting and affection towards him. Jaemin had grown less and less affectionate as time passed by. He was no longer attacking you with surprise hugs or giving you cuddles during your movie nights.

You could feel your friendship tearing apart with every step you take, it was hopeless, you didn’t know what to do. You wanted to stop before you ruin your relationship completely, you wanted to stop making things so awkward between you, you wanted everything to stop hurting. You wanted to stop feeling hurt all the time.

But at the same time, you couldn’t. You feared that once you stop, you’ll give up completely and you were scared that maybe if you stopped, you won’t have the courage to talk to Jaemin anymore. You were scared once you stopped you wouldn’t have the energy left to bare with the pain talking to him brought you. You were scared you’d give everything up.

And you were scared if it did happen, you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself anymore.

They say the moments you spend with your soulmate should be one of the best moments of your life. Was the pain you felt all this time really worth it? Isn’t this kind of toxic?

Your friend, Yiren, from another town had come to visit you over the holidays to spend some quality time with you. Your parents allowed her to spend the night at yours for Christmas while her parents finished their business in some other town. At that time, you and your other friends decided to hang out at the mall, asking her to tag along so they could meet her.

Yiren was an out-going person, just like you, therefore she got along very well with most of your friends. But when Chanhee finally arrived at the garden you were supposed to meet up at, you couldn’t help but feel your heart sink when you witnessed such an endearing moment between your two friends.

“Hey guys! I’m so sorry I’m late, my brother needed help closing up the shop!” Chanhee exclaimed, waving as he ran towards you. “You loser, just be grateful you have amazing friends who were willing to buy tickets 3 hours early,” Hyunjin clicked his tongue, slinging an arm around his friend’s shoulder who let out a loud laugh.

“Whatever you say, Hwang Hyunjin.” Chanhee stuck his tongue out teasingly at the boy. “Oh! Chanhee! I got my friend from Busan to tag along with us, I just want her to have more friends here, you don’t mind right?” you asked, slumping down on your seat. “That’s cool, where is she? Actually, where are the other girls?” Chanhee nodded, cocking his head to the side to find the other girls.

“The others went to buy some drinks for us. Don’t worry I made sure to make them order something for you,” Jaemin responded, scrolling through his phone casually. “Why didn’t you join them?” Chanhee asked, turning to you. You let out a wide, nervous smile, letting out small awkward laughs. “She wanted to stick beside me,” Jaemin huffed, trying his best not to roll his eyes out of annoyance.

“Whipped, I see,” he chuckled, watching you cross your arms against your chest before giving him a teasing glare. “You’ll understand once you actually find your soulmate, Chan. I can’t expect you to understand,” you joked in a rather arrogant tone, putting a hand under your chin as you grinned cheekily at your friend.

“It’s not that he doesn’t understands, Y/n. It’s just the fact that you’re really questionable,” Jaemin mumbled under his breath, earning a glare from you. “You two really are a questionable couple,” Hyunjin commented with a laugh. “I swear, my life wouldn’t be this entertaining if it weren’t for the two of you pushing and pulling each other like some kind of weird magnet,” he added with a loud snicker.

You winced internally at his words.

“We’re here!” Nayeon exclaimed in an excited tone, hopping up to you all with plastic bags filled with drinks. “Sorry, the line was so fucking long,” Yiren chuckled, pulling out the drinks from the bag to hand them out. “Nah, it’s fine. We’re not the ones paying after all,” you teased, waving it off.

“Bitch,” Yiren spat at you jokingly, earning a small laugh from your friends. You gingerly grabbed your drink and a straw, stabbing it into the drink before sipping. “Oh! Yiren! Meet Chanhee, he just got here because of business or something,” you squeaked, gesturing to the boy whose head shot up from his drink at the mention of his name.

“What? Me?” Chanhee rambled, stabbing his straw through the lid of his drink.

“Oh, nice to meet you! I’m Yiren, I’m Y/n’s friend from Busan,” she smiled, outstretching her hand to shake his. “Nice to meet you too, I’m Chanhee,” he nodded, shaking her hand before his eyes glanced down to her wrist. His eyes widened, letting out a loud gasp which alerted all of you.

“What? What happened?” Mina exclaimed, turning her head to the couple who were staring at each other with equally flabbergasted expressions. “It’s you! Holy crap, it’s actually you!” she exclaimed, using her free hand to cup her mouth. Chanhee slowly stood up, feeling tears gathering in his eyes.

Everyone was shocked. You let out dramatic gasps, recognizing the loving expressions the two of them had on their faces. No one dared to speak as they let the knowledge sink in, feeling the atmosphere tense up for a brief moment as you watched your two friends stare admiringly and longingly at each other.

“You’re real! What the fuck, you’re real and you’re here!” Chanhee managed to choke out, admiring the tattoo on Yiren’s left wrist that mirrored his own. “Hi soulmate,” she laughed, wrapping her arms around her soulmate who wrapped her in a tight embrace.

Your friends let out loud cheers and squeals at how dramatic their meet-up was, coming forward to congratulate them nonetheless. You couldn’t hold in your excitement for your friend but you couldn’t help but clench your fist tightly by your side, a heavy feeling in your chest piling up once again.

You couldn’t help but feel envious of how happy they looked. The tears in their eyes as they embraced each other so passionately, the bright aura surrounding them. You’ve seen your friends and families do PDA with their own partners but you had never witnessed what finding your soulmate truly looked like. That is, not until now.

Reading strangers’ experiences when meeting their soulmate online was one thing but seeing it first hand in person was a beautiful sight to see. You couldn’t help but turn to Jaemin in your seat, giving him a longing look as you ignored the loud exclaims and cheers of your friend group.

Jaemin’s expression was empty, void of emotion. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking or what he was feeling. Frankly, you didn’t want to know. They say you can see your future with your soulmate if your love was powerful enough. ‘Bull crap, all I see in his eyes is irritation towards me’ you thought with a roll of your eyes.

Jaemin’s eyes met yours, his brow raising at you as if to say ‘what?’

Your eyes widened slightly, taking aback by his sudden gaze, feeling hurt at the fact that he wasn’t fazed at all at the beautiful sight bestowed upon him. The reunion of two soulmates was always something special, it was a priceless moment that they can only share between them.

You felt your enthusiasm waver when you realised you were hoping something that wasn’t going to come. You were clinging on to Jaemin once again in hopes that he would give you the happiness you craved so much from hearing your grandmother’s stories.

When you finally focused back on Jaemin’s now concerned gaze since he noticed you had spaced out and had begun snapping his fingers in front of your face to snap you out of your deep thoughts.

You couldn’t help but smile brightly at him, ignoring the jolting pain blooming in your wrist and in your chest as you stood up from your seat to join in celebration with your friends. The thought of never experiencing the same happiness they’re going to have once they find their soulmates lingering in the back of your mind.

But fortunately for you, keeping a smile stretched across your lips is what you do best.

“Hey, I’m here,” Renjun called out, walking into your door without knocking. Your parents were away for the day and your sad hours were hitting you hard that you called Renjun to help comfort you and accompany you. Renjun knew the door was always unlocked for him to enter immediately without knocking whenever you were sad.

“Thanks for coming,” you smiled weakly, nuzzling closer to your bed sheets as Renjun sat on the bed next to you, dumping a plastic bag filled with snacks right in front of you. “You better pay me back sooner or later,” he joked, pulling out two cartons of milk and handing one to you. “When I don’t feel like shit that is,” you chuckled softly, sticking the straw in the carton as you tossed him the remote.

“What do you want to watch?” he asked, adjusting his position on your pillow as he pressed through the options on your TV screen. “The Office? That drama you’ve been wanting to watch? Or-”

“I’m good with anything, Jun. I just- I’m just glad I’m not alone, right now,” you inhaled deeply, sniffling back your tears as you shook your milk carton. Renjun paused, realising you were on the brink of crying again. He clicked his tongue, his eyes darting from the TV screen to your shaking form trying to maintain calm, debating whether to leave you be or make you talk your feelings out.

“You want to talk about it?”

Renjun obviously decided to choose the latter.

You shrugged, looking down at your milk carton so hopelessly, a hurt expression flossing over your features. “I was just having those dreams again,” you gazed up to keep your tears in. You’ve been having these dreams that you were in a completely alternate universe, that you were happy again, that you were in Jaemin’s arms.

That he was looking at you the way you’ve been looking at him for the past two years.

“Were you reading those soulmate moments again before you went to bed?” he asked with a soft chuckle. You huffed, crossing your arms before sitting up straight against the headboard. “Come on! Let me dream! I might not be able to experience the happiness soulmates share when they’re with each other because I decided to ghost mine completely, but at least I can imagine!” you whined.

“It’s the only thing I can do now that I don’t have any hopes of experiencing romance or love and what not,” you mumbled almost inaudibly, sipping on your milk once again. Renjun bit his lip, knowing full well where this was going if he said the wrong thing. “Well, I-”

“It’s not fair, Renjun.”

“Huh?”

He turned to you, watching you stare at the screen which was playing a trailer of The Umbrella Academy with an expression filled with despair. “I’m stupid for getting this worked up for a boy but he’s my soulmate, I have the right to be upset right? He’s my soulmate, I want to experience the same thing others are experiencing, too. It’s not fair,” you whimpered, crossing your arms tightly against your chest.

“Why does he get to be the selfish one? I’m here getting hurt all the time for his own happiness and he’s probably out there living his best life!” you exclaimed exasperatedly, sniffling back your tears. “It’s not fair, I want to be happy too.” You whimpered, furiously wiping away your tears,

“How did we come to this? I’m human too! I want to be selfish too for once. I want to be able to play with my soulmate’s hair, give them little smooches, have cuddles and movie sessions. I want to go on dates with my soulmate too! And take those aesthetic pictures you see on Pinterest too!”

“Y/n, I-”

“He wanted to find love and experience the feeling of falling in love with someone who wasn’t chosen for him, right? Does that mean I have to watch him fall in love with someone else in front of my own eyes? Oh God, I’m so fucking stupid!” you planted your elbows on your thighs, leaning forward to rub your eyes against your palms to avoid looking into Renjun’s sympathetic ones.

“Two years. Two damn years, that’s how long I spent parading myself around like an idiot hoping that he would like me back when all I did, really, was drive him further and further away! I just thought, maybe it wasn’t those immediate soulmate bonds, you know Jun? The ones that take time and effort. But it’s been two damn years. Once again, I’m just fooling myself with something that wasn’t there! I just want it to stop hurting!”

“Y/n stop, your wrist is glowing again-”

“I was so stupid, Renjun. So, so fucking stupid. All this time I knew that I was making the both of us uncomfortable, yet I still kept on going and I still kept on pestering him even if he told me to stop. Maybe I’m the selfish one?” you felt your bottom lip quiver as your scattered mind grew messier with every passing second.

“Why did I trick myself into thinking that maybe one day he would feel the same feelings I’m feeling? I’ve always known he won’t ever love me back. So why did I create false hope? Was that selfish of me to want someone to love and someone to love me back?”

“No, y/n, you’re not selfish.”

“Renjun. My own soulmate doesn’t love me. My own fucking soulmate doesn’t love me. I’m going to be alone forever. I hate being alone. I hate it so much. I hate this so damn much,” your whole body shook harshly with every sob you let out but Renjun couldn’t help but respond with a soft, “you won’t be alone, y/n.”

“The worst part is I told myself for so long that I’ll be okay if it happens. I’ll be fine with watching him happy without me. But the more I think about it, the more selfish I felt. I don’t want to see him fall in love with someone else and be happy with someone else, Jun. I’m so stupid, Why did I ever thought I’d be okay with it when I’m clearly not okay now!”

“Y/n, no, you’re not stupid. Don’t you dare say something like that about yourself.” Renjun pulled you away from the ball you were curling into, making you lean against his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your back tightly, stroking your head and rubbing your back as he tried to calm down your soft cries.

“You’re not stupid, y/n. You’re really not,” he said in the softest tone he could muster.

“Renjun. I have a soulmate who doesn’t even fucking want me. If my own soulmate doesn’t want me then who else will? You all always see how he looks at me right? He hates me, he doesn’t even like me. Not one bit.” At this point, you were trying to focus on your breathing, wiping your nose and tears away with the fabric of your shirt.

Your grip on your bedsheets tightened when your heart ached even more. Your heart was screaming and pleading in your chest, crying out for something it can’t have. And all you can do to comfort it was to cry it all out.

Renjun sat there, rubbing your back and stroking your head as he whispered soft hushes, trying to reassure you your worth as you mumbled incoherent sobs, single syllables and broken words against his shoulder. You were hurting so much that you didn’t know if you should stop crying or let it all out to satisfy the pain in your chest.

But sure enough, Renjun held you there until you couldn’t cry anymore.

“Hey, I told you, you don’t have to give me chocolates anymore. My mom’s going to kill me if I have another sore throat,” you chuckled, pulling up the thin chocolate bar from your locker. Your friend, Nayeon, turned to you with furrowed brows, eyes filled with confusion. “Excuse you, I didn’t give you any chocolates this week,” she responded, pulling out her textbook.

You let out a small ‘huh?’ at her, trying to see if she was lying. Nayeon always gave you half of her lifetime supply of chocolates that she always receives from her soulmate because she wanted to go on a diet and she didn’t want to waste the delicious treats. “He found out I was on a diet and stopped giving me chocolates for the time being. Also, it’s my cheat day today!” she exclaimed, pulling out a chocolate bar similar to yours from her pocket.

“So no chocolates for you,” she waved the chocolate bar in your face jokingly, causing you to chuckle. “Well okay, Nayeon. But if you didn’t give me the chocolate, then who did?” you asked, furrowing your brows at the treat in your hand. “Dumbass, there’s a note behind it,” Nayeon reached over and flipped the candy over, revealing a small yellow sticky note attached to it.

‘I hope you have a great day!

- you know who’

The handwriting gave it away. It was way too obvious, you’ve seen that handwriting more than you could count. There was no doubt in your mind that this was indeed Jaemin’s handwriting. You chuckled when your mind recalled the time Jaemin kept giving you chocolate bars from his mother’s private stock whenever you were upset back when you were still kids. But how could he still remember your favorite chocolate brand? It was quite sweet but unexpected at the same time.

“’I hope you have a great day’, that’s so bland. Sounds like something moms would write on a piece of paper in their kid’s lunch boxes,” your friend commented with a small snicker, pointing at the note attached to the chocolate bar. “This sounds like some weird stalker-ish movie prompt,” she added with a teasing tone, nudging your shoulder. You forced out a small laugh to hide your discomfort.

“Do you really have to say it like that, though? I’d say this might just be someone’s weird prank?” you raised your brow, trying not to give away the fact that you know full well who this chocolate bar is from. “Come on, aren’t you suppose to be the prankster in this situation, y/n?” she giggled, waving her hand off to say she was joking.

“Nonetheless-Ooh! An admirer! Sadly, you’re too whipped for Jaemin to give this fellow a chance,” Nayeon gushed, snatching the chocolate bar out of your palms to inspect the note even further. “It even says ‘you know who’. I’m fully convinced that a Potterhead wrote this, I mean, it’s cute. But do they really have to include ‘you know who’? This isn’t Harry Potter, they ain’t Voldemort,” Nayeon rambled, causing you to giggle in response.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, suppressing the heavy feeling inside of your chest. Nayeon giggled, smacking your shoulder gently as she handed you the chocolate bar back. “I’m just kidding you! So, do you know this supposed admirer?” she asked with a small hum, oblivious to the sadness that had glossed over your pupils.

“Yeah, definitely.” You replied shortly, kissing your lips as you nodded. Her head shot up at you, eyes widening in surprise. “Oh! So are you going to do anything about it? I mean, you found your soulmate already as far as I know but are you going to do anything?” she asked, cocking her head to the side a bit in wonder. You sighed, putting the chocolate in the pocket of your backpack before shaking your head with a small smile.

“No, I’m not,” you replied, walking alongside her to your next class. “I don’t really want to think about it too much, I mean, it’s just a bar of chocolate, right?”

‘The ones I used to receive from him back when we were still in middle school that is,’ you thought with a heavy heart. You clenched your fists by your side, mustering up the energy you have in your system to put on your usual bright smile. “Anyways, what were you saying about Mr Seong earlier?”

When you said you didn’t want to think about it too much, obviously you were lying and you thought about it way too much all throughout math class till lunch. As you were doing the assignment your teacher gave you, you couldn’t help but remember the kiss you two shared at the party. Your chest fluttered at the seemingly distant memory

You paused, putting your pen down next to your notebook, propping your elbows on the table before rubbing your face in distress, the tips of your fingers coming up to rub your temples with a heavy sigh. ‘God, I need a damn vacation after all this,’ you thought, putting your arms down as you continued on with your work.

‘The tables really have turned, huh?’

You glanced at the small sticky note attached to the chocolate bar which was now hidden in your pencil case. You let out a silent chuckle, flipping your pen in between your fingers as you stare down at your paper. ‘It hurts,’ you thought, taking a small glimpse at your left wrist. The white bandage that wrapped around your wrist peeking out under the fabric of your sweater.

‘It hurt,’ you bit your lip, darting your eyes back at your paper filled with equations. As you started to continue with your work, your mind wandered to the weekend after the party.

You remembered waking up early in the comforts of your own bed sheets, still in the clothes you wore the night before. Your headache causes you to groan against your pillows when you felt like vomiting your stomach out. Apparently, Renjun had magically snuck you in your own home in the middle of the night by using the spare key you had in your pocket.

How he managed to sneak into your house and get into your room and out without waking your parents was a whole mystery to you. But you couldn’t care less when the events of the previous night overwhelmed your thoughts, resulting in you having a mini mental breakdown in your bathroom when you decided to take a shower.

You and Jaemin kissed! You and Jaemin fucking kissed!

What the actual fuck?!

At the time, you couldn’t help but touch your own lips with the tips of your fingers, giggling softly at the fond memory, feeling butterflies swarm your stomach. Collapsing on the mattress of your bed, snuggling against the pillows as you couldn’t hide the giddy feeling spilling from inside of you. But your little giggle session didn’t last long when your mind finally remembered the full events.

You had a mental breakdown- no, you had a whole panic attack in front of your own soulmate. Jaemin just did what any other male protagonist in a cliche romance movie would do, which was kiss their love interest. You are his soulmate after all. They say one of the most comforting things in the world will always be the first kiss you ever shared with your soulmate.

They say a lot of things, if you think about it.

What if Jaemin knew that and kissed you just to make you feel better? What if he did it out of pure sympathy? Jaemin was someone who would do anything to make someone’s pain go away, even if he had to share the pain to take it away. You sighed at the thought, remembering how he snapped at you at the dinner party. Or did he just kiss you because you appeared too pathetic in front of him?

‘I forgot, he’d gladly do anything for the people he loved. I’ll never be in that category. Not anymore,’ you thought to yourself bitterly as you hugged your pillow to your chest.

But then again, why did he kiss you? He was the one who initiated the kiss, right?

Right?

‘Stop trying to give yourself hope, unless you want to get hurt again you might as well go back to being a simp’

You snapped out of your thoughts with a click of your tongue, chuckling to yourself. ‘God dammit, y/n, you’re out of the soulmate game now. The universe really said ‘you’re never going to be happy with your soulmate, ever!’ in the most dramatical way possible. You have fallen out of God’s favor a long long time ago.’

You shook your head in disappointment before adverting your eyes back down to finish your paper.

‘You were dreaming too far.’

“Alright class. For those who haven’t finished their work, you can do them at home and give them to my next week,” your teacher announced as he puts his papers in between the pages of his book. The class groaned, the sounds of chairs grinding against the tile floor pierced your hearing as people started packing up their things.

You rubbed your eyes in distress, putting your paper in between the pages of your textbook, shoving it straight in your bag carelessly and walking out of the classroom with a heavy sigh. Gripping the saddle of your bag with one hand and the chocolate bar in your other as you make your way to the cafeteria.

As you entered the crowded place, you spotted a few of your friends sitting at a table nearby at the corner of your eye. Sending them a smile and a small wave you turned your head to scan the room in an attempt to find the table Jaemin was sitting at.

You quickly walked to his table, feeling your heartbeat quicken in your chest with every step you take. Jeno was the first one who caught you walking towards their table as Jaemin had his back turned to you. Raising his brow in confusion as you waved at him with a sheepish smile.

“Jaemin, is that-”

When Jaemin turned around, his eyes widened to see you standing right in front of him that he almost choked on his cookie. “Hey, uh-” you spoke, taking a breath to calm your nerves before placing the chocolate bar right beside him. “I don’t want to be rude or anything but I just want to return this,” you smiled, trying to ignore the eyes of his teammates boring holes into your figure.

“I’ll see you guys around, I guess,” you shrugged, turning around and whipping your phone out to advert your mind as you exited the cafeteria. You knew Jaemin was going to chase after you when you heard the sound of his friends calling his name which caused you to walk faster to the exit, jogging when you finally got out of the cafeteria.

“Y/n!” Jaemin called out, running after you.

You sighed, stopping in your step before turning to him with an exhausted expression. “What is it, Jaemin?” you asked, exhaustion lacing your tone. You haven’t spoken to him since that night at the party and you’ve been avoiding him like the plague since then. And frankly, you really don’t want to talk to him about it.

“This is yours,” Jaemin said, his breathing hitched as he outstretched his hand towards you to hand you back the chocolate. “No, Jaemin. I really don’t want to,” you shook your head, a frown stretched across your lips. “It’s a present, is it not? You have to accept it,” Jaemin raised his brow at you, attempting to take your hand but you quickly jerked it back to your side.

Jaemin couldn’t help but wince at the small action. “Y/n, you said it yourself once, right? ‘You can’t reject a gift from someone else, that’s rude and unappreciative’” He quoted, causing your eyes to widen slightly. “Jaemin, you know very well I only said that to make you accept my gifts,” you frowned, wincing at how hypocritical you sounded.

But still, he did not just use the same tactic you used back when you were still bugging him. Not when he whined and complained so much to his friends whenever you weren’t around afterwards.

“I still have the right to refuse your gift, Jaemin,” you frowned, slipping your hand in your pockets. He sighed exasperatedly, “fine, can we at least talk? About that night at the party? Please?” he pleaded, sending you his irresistible puppy eyes in an attempt to get you to say yes.

You bit your lip, feeling your heartbeat increase at the action, butterflies swarming your stomach as you feel yourself turn into mush under his eyes. But alas, your mind couldn’t help but have flashbacks to the party. The heavy feeling in your chest that made it hard to breathe. The burning in your wrist that made you want to chop your own arm off.

Everything that happened between you two was nothing but a mess.

In your eyes, there was nothing else to talk about. It is best if you two go your separate ways, right?

“There’s literally nothing to talk about, Jaemin,” you deadpanned, gripping the saddle of your bag tightly to keep your emotions intact when you feel a lump starting to build up in your throat. “I don’t understand why you want to talk about this so much,” you sighed, shaking your head as you ran a hand through your hair.

“If you have nothing to say, it’s fine. Then just let me talk,” Jaemin sighed, running a hand through his hair in distress. “Just hear me out, okay?” he said in an almost pleading tone, his lips forming a pout as his puppy eyes bore into yours. You took this chance to examine his features.

As creepy as it sounds, you missed seeing his face. He looks tired. So tired. Dark bags under his eyes, his pink lips forming a small pout as he waited for your response. You furrowed your brows, biting the inside of your cheek for letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding back.

“I really don’t have time for this. I just came to give you back your chocolate, “ you lied through your teeth. If you didn’t have time, then why did you decide to give him back the chocolate when you have been avoiding him? Maybe deep down, you just want to see him again? Maybe you just wanted an excuse to talk to him?

You didn’t know yourself. Why were you talking to him knowing full well it’s just going to bring you pain again?

You gave him a small, weak smile. “I need to go Jaemin. The bell’s about to ring soon and I need to get my notes from Renjun before Chemistry,” you sighed, biting your tongue to keep yourself from saying anything else that would make the atmosphere more tense than it already was.

“I’ll see you around.”

You missed him, but you also want it to stop hurting.

A/N: this was a really shitty chapter. But i felt guilty for not posting so here’s like a short ass chapter I wrote in like the four hours of free time I had in the past two days. So forgive me this is rlly bad lmfao. BUT HEY FINALLY A CHAPTER WITH Y/NS POV! yeah back to Jaemin’s pov when the next chapter comes out. My exams should be ending soon so I might or might not post somewhere next week idfk man

ANYWAYS

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herstarburststories · 3 years

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Merry... Birthday?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: You love christmas, but Dean doesn’t. Yet, he might make an exception for your birthday this year.

A/N: This one goes for @negans-lucille-tblr ‘s secret fic exchange. My secret Santa was @katymacsupernatural. Hey, honey! I hope you enjoy this and happy birthday! You deserve double presents, so here’s mine. All mistakes are mine!

Divider by @talesmaniac89 !

You loved Christmas.

It was probably a nostalgic longing for your long gone urban life. Just in the same way you’d still catch yourself looking through the news for election results or feel your stomach twist if you didn’t eat homemade food at least twice a week. You were dead to the government and certainly spent more on the road than in a home. Besides, you had met up with God enough times to know him. All the encounters and screaming and unapologetic abandonment should make you want to throw any baby Jesus against a wall or even climb on a Christmas tree just to shout about all the hoaxes so perfectly molded in patterns through our brains like braids.

Yet, something about you loved christmas.

The pretty lights always shining, it didn’t matter where you go. For once, all the city-- everything would be entirely made of light. Their incandescent glow always companishing each person, either it was in an once treacherous alley or only to make the kids' grin bigger as they watched them among the busy streets with wide eyed gazes. The confusion in the kitchen that often ended up with huffs bursting into chuckles between the smell of meals that were too much and would make a room for leftovers for the rest of the week. How everything seemed to be made only of happiness, and nothing could ever cut through those water; all the knives were suddenly swords for kids to play and no white gun. In Christmas, a house became a kingdom for every heart. Everything was good and felt through the skin to the bone, like a single glimpse, a hidden day of what would be paradise.

That was how you were raised, at least. The Winchesters didn’t share the same mindset, no. While you grew up with decorating the tree, they were hiding bodies in the dim light. Leftovers were all through their whole year, and Christmas was described as good or not with one single criteria: snow streets. They had to take one? Annoying date. They didn’t and there was eggnog? Bearable Jesus’s birthday.

Yet, you attempted to make the bunker the more festive possible: buying a bunch of christmas lights, cookies’ ingredients and even a small nativity scene. Your attempts to enjoy the date’s niciities ended up with Sam breaking his arm after crashing on the ground because you insisted on him putting the lights in a place higher than his age, not to mention the burned cookies that looked more like tiny monsters than gingerbread men.

Your parents used to make this look so much easier.

Although the youngest Winchester understood a little more about the concept of holidays, a believer in the good until the very end, his brother didn’t share the idea. You couldn’t say you were surprised. Dean just had two barely normal christmas in his life: one when he was dying and one with Lisa and Ben. Both situations made it to his heart only to shatter from the inside.

‘’Baby Jesus?’’ Dean snorted, shaking his head at the sight of you adjusting the weird little dolls in the nativity. He placed another ruined cook in his mouth, speaking with his mouth full next: ‘’We have the son of Lucifer, guess that counts.’’

‘’Don’t say that once Jack gets home.’’ You rolled your eyes, turning to face the oldest Winchester with your hands on your hips. How could he eat that? You couldn’t even make it a bite and Sam only had half of those. ‘’And stop eating those. They are burned.’’

‘’I’ve had worse.’’ He remarked, adding another cookie to his mouth. You grimaced, wondering for a brief moment how your boyfriend could be simultaneously the guy who saved the world and a man with the taste of a five years old.

‘’Yeah. But I’m the one who has to hear you whining about your bellyache later.’’

‘’I don’t whine--’’ You arched your eyebrows at his statement, making Dean huff in agreement. ‘’That was once and because of Sam’s weird ass vegan bacon.’’

‘’You acted like you were dying.’’

‘’My tongue was!’’

‘’So get this.’’ Sam’s voice interrupted your childish argument, catching the attention of both hunters like a shiny object did to a cat. ‘’Apparently we got an earlier christmas gift.’’

‘’What is it?’’ You asked, approaching the table.

‘’Three teenagers disappeared in the forest, all personal objects left behind.’’ Sam explained as Dean scratched out his neck to glance at his brother’s computer screen. Nothing like a case in Colorado. ‘’The authorities think it’s a serial killer. But one of the girls, Kayla Wodson, said she saw a weird, skinny giant take her friends.’’

‘’Ho ho ho and three bodies.’’ Dean clapped his hands together with a wry curve of lips. ‘’Alright. Let’s hit the road-- Wait, wait, wait. Where do you think you are going?’’

You were standing beside Dean while Sam raised to his feet, ready to pack his bags. Dean, nonetheless, was quicker than his brother, soon putting himself in front of Sammy; hands protectively standing in front of the youngest’s chest to keep him from moving any further.

He shook his head with a scoff. ‘’Dude, come on.’’

‘’Not happening, Sammy. You got a broken arm.’’ You mumbled a sorry along Dean’s big brother speech, to which Sam replied with a comprehensive smile. ‘’Y/N and I take care of it.’’

‘’He’s right. Must be the first time in his life, but he is.’’ Dean turned his head, furrowing his eyebrows at you ‘’Don’t worry. It’s just a wendigo anyway. ‘’

‘’Okay. Just…’’

‘’Don’t forget the fireblazer. As if your brother would miss an opportunity to use it.’’ You scrunched up your noise, causing a chortle out of Sam while Dean commented something about grabbing the specific instrument and walked away. ‘’Maybe you could call Eileen. Ask her to help you to back some christmas cookies.’’

Sammy shook his head at your wiggling brows. ‘’That doesn’t sound as sexy for me as it does for you.’’

Dean Winchester was good with numbers.

Not the urban numerical sense of the deal, of course. He almost didn’t make it in sixth grade with useless geometry and all that, and he still used his fingers to count when he had to deal with an equation. No, his good and quick way with numbers was easier, intrinsic to his head.

How many years since mom died? Seventeen. How many people did he have to save? All of them. How many years had he left? Less than he once owned.

Hunter math was simpler, and was all he really needed since he was four years old, running from the fire with his baby brother in his arms-- which brought him to the second section of his particular geometry: birthdays and death anniversaries. Dean never, ever forgot any special date. Those were his own holidays, the only worth celebrating and remembering. His wishes, grief, and cherishment were reserved for the people he loved, not some celestial assholes who saw his life like a book.

Therefore, his mind went on a golden rush for your day as soon as the Wendigo hunt took more than you both expected. You wouldn't be able to make it home before your birthday, which would be ending shortly, a matter of two or three hours. His inner engineers were useful tonight, in his vision, useful enough to make those sappy movies jealous. While you were washing some guts and leaves away, Dean went to the nearest convenience store. His long arms nesting a bunch of stuff he never dared to touch in years. The cashier with drowsy eyes and escarlet Santa hat seemed bored with his shopping, probably because she saw an uncountable amount of people buying the same things over and over. He couldn’t blame her for the suburban exhaustion. If anything, it was a small comfort for his war orbs to see and be a part of a scene so mundane.

He hustled back to the dive motel room, singing in relief to himself once he stepped in and heard you singing Christmas Tree Farm while the water rushed in. He grimaced at himself for recognizing that Taylor Swift song. How couldn’t he? That woman was 80% of all you heard everyday. Man, he was whipped.

Tilting his head back in reality, he started organizing in clumsy manners of putting everything in place for you. His bruised hands touching so carefully the fragile ornaments to make the motel room with grubby walls and weird black stan on the floor that only seemed to grow a little more like you.

You, the woman who put up with him, who laughed at his stupid jokes, and who watched Scooby Doo, all snuggled up to him every friday. You, the woman who switched from AC/DC to Taylor Swift and then Eric Clapton. You, the one who understood his job and helped him to wash off some of the blood on his hand and never got scared of how red the water could get. You, the girl who rolled her eyes at his first attempt of flirting and now stole his french fries and kissed his lips as if he was worth being delicate with. You, his breathing, his true holiday, his only act of faith besides Sammy.

Dean pressed his teeth against his bottom lip, looking up and down his little manual work. Part of him said it was ridiculous, he surely would make a lot of fun of Sam if he did that to a chick. Yet, mostly he was proud. He wanted you to like it. It wasn’t even near to what you deserved, but it was a piece of it. It was what the Winchester could give you, and that would be hopefully, enough.

While Dean was caught in the crossroad of judging and admiring his surprise, you left the shower with a towel wrapped around your head and lips mumbling Cocaine. Your feet glued to the ground once you witnessed what was in front of you: the room was decorated with christmas lights, a tiny plastic tree on the table, right beside a pie with candle on the top and two cup of what smelled like hot cocoa.

‘’Dean…’’ Your tender tone brought him back from his traineck thoughts as he turned around to glance at you. You chortled in astonishment as he raised his eyes and said surprise! ‘’What’s this?’’

‘’Well, it’s your birthday.’’ He shrugged, scooting closer to you with a smirk. Dean smoothly wrapped his arms around your waist, yours instantly resting around his neck. ‘’In my defense, they just had christmas stuff. Blame your parents for having you close to Jesus’ special day.’’

‘’Christmas stuff include pie and not cake?’’ Your brows knitted together, a heartwarming smile on your lips as you watched his expression marked by multicolored little lights. He smelled like something was a blaze, and you knew that was for standing too close to the candle and not for burning a body this time. Small changes.

He scoffed humorously. ‘’You like pie better anyway.’’ He nodded at the carnival-like situation around you two. Dean Winchester wasn’t the kind of man who got insecure, but you could catch a perk of brand nervous hesitation as his green eyes shot you an anxious glance. ‘’Did you like it?’’

‘’I loved it.’’ You pulled cheeks dimpled with joy that was kissed by Dean’s own smiling lips. The kiss was so gentle, it was his own palpable light hearted emotion. You being happy in his arms. It had been so long since he felt he could be enough, he could make someone happy. But you were right there. As you pulled away, another short kiss was given between playful words: ‘’That’s what I call a christmas miracle.’’

‘’Shush.’’ He leaned in and pecked your lips. As Dean pulled back, he couldn’t help but watch around with the pride of Hubris. His glance went back to you, a lopsided grin on his face. God, you loved that smile. You loved that man. ‘’So I added some whiskey to the hot cocoa. We could drink some, eat the pie, and see if those lights make a good improvise rope. What do you tell me?’’

All you could do was kiss him again.

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supernatural-jackles · 3 years

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Fics of 2020 - Masterlist

Words Shared: 402,493 Words Written: 501,289 Favourite Fic: Living Your Life - Jensen x Reader Favourite Series: Owe You One - Dean x Reader Goal for 2021: 500,000 words and to complete ALL my bingo cards. Read more!

A big thank you to everyone who read through all of those words! Even bigger thank you to those who left their own words behind on each one. Y’all are amazing and there is a day that goes by that I don’t appreciate each and every one of you. 💜

Fitting a Square into a Circle - Dean x Reader

~~After a hunt with an old friend goes a little different than you planned, you make a call to the Winchester’s to help you out of a nasty situation. A situation that leaves you with more wounds than anyone really knew about. Square Filled: Dean Winchester for @spngenrebingo

Another Year - Dean x Reader

~~ It’s January 24th. You are awaiting the arrival of the Winchester brothers from a hunt so you can begin celebrating Dean’s birthday. When they do get home, things don’t quite go to plan. Squares Filled: Cuddling ( @spndeanbingo) Bed Sharing ( @spnfluffbingo) Kisses ( @spngenrebingo) Thigh Riding ( @spnkinkbingo)

Valentines Day Sucks - Jensen x Reader

~~Another Valentine’s Day has arrived. You are awaiting your fiancee, only to be stood up. Your best friend comes to the rescue unexpectedly with one of the same issues. Who knew two break ups on Hallmarks favourite holiday would result in some one on one time with someone you had been pushing your feelings down for. Square Filled: Post Break up AU ( @spnfluffbingo) Friends to Lovers ( @spngenrebingo) Accidental Kiss ( @spndeanbingo) Coitus Interruptus ( @spnkinkbingo)

A Night on the Town - Jensen x Reader

~~You’re attending your first Supernatural convention with your friends, only they ditch you to go out to a different bar. You are stuck waiting for them when an unfortunate event drives you out of a bar and straight to a man that you never expected to meet this way. Square Filled: Jensen Ackles ( @spngenrebingo) One Night Stand ( @spnkinkbingo)

The Man on the Side of the Road (Masterlist) - Dean x Reader

~~Driving down the road, going well over the speed limit. You come across a man walking in the opposite direction with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. His head cast down as he walked. Your gut instinct is telling you to check on this man, no matter what your parents told you growing up. Little did you know just how much this would change your life.

End the Night- Jensen x Reader

~~On a stormy Sunday evening, Jensen ends his birthday with his girlfriend who has something special to share with him. Squares Filled: Birthday ( @spngenrebingo) Laughing together ( @spnfluffbingo)

Owe You One - Dean x Reader (series)

~~Dean Winchester has been your best friend and neighbour for the last year. A year of finding comfort in random drop ins and casual conversations, but neither of you know the pasts that the other has. Not fully. Pasts that come back to haunt you, and ruin everything you want in life. Can you find what you’re seeking in a couple of favours and a good time between the sheets or is history doomed to repeat itself?

Isolation - Dean x Reader

~~ When the croatoan virus takes over half the country, you haul ass to the bunker where your two best friends are to keep you safe. Only, one of them you have had feelings for and the other keeps encouraging you to tell him.

Squares Filled: The Bunker (spndeanbingo) Cuddling (SPNFluffBingo)

D.W. - Dean x Reader

~~The reader ended things with Dean suddenly six months ago. A tragic fire leaves her in the hospital with one pissed off Winchester and a heartbroken brother who just wants to figure out why.

Squares filled: Tattoo (spnkinkbingo) Playing Pretend (spngenrebingo)

Here For the Weekend - Dean x Reader

~~You and Dean met on a dating app ten years after you last saw each other. The two of you matched and became close again, getting off to the sight of each other. Only, it’s not enough for you anymore and you have to decide whether to tell him how you feel or move on.

Squares Filled: Masturbation (spnkinkbingo) Long Distance Relationship (spngenrebingo)

Poison - Jensen x Reader

~~ An abrupt end to a friendship leaves you shattered inside. Words ringing in your head, over and over again. It takes it’s toll and damn near tears you in two. With the help of someone close to you, the words become whispers, and the wounds slowly begin to heal.

Square filled: Caught Red Handed (spnfluffbingo)

Seeing You Again - Jensen x Reader

~~Fifteen years had passed since you had seen the love of your life, Jensen Ackles. Your childhood sweetheart, the man of your dreams. The two of you separated against your wishes. Until he walks into your bakery one day without knowing you owned it. You never expected old feelings to resurface, let alone something more

Squares filled: Childhood Sweethearts (Spnfluff) First time (spngenre)

Been Hurt Before - Dean x Reader

~~You come face to face with your past in one of the least expected places. The face of trauma leaves you feeling like you had been toppled over. The biggest problem of all? Dean doesn’t know about your past and you don’t want him to see you any differently. Squares Filled: Angst to fluff (Spngenre)

The Arrangement

~~After a hunt gone wrong, you take Dean up on the extremely useful arrangement you both agreed on many years ago to help you get through the night.

Squares filled: Hurt/Comfort ( @spngenrebingo) Hunt Gone Wrong ( @spndeanbingo)

Two Weeks Notice - Jensen x Reader

~~ You’d think that working on the same set for six years would make you feel accomplished… not feeling like you don’t fit in anymore.

Square filled: Friendship (Dean Bingo)

One Mistake - Dean x Reader

~~the reader and the boys are on a witch hunt and the witch made a spell so the reader sees her dead family members and it’s driving her crazy,and dean helps her get through it and they confess they love each other?

Square Filled: Case!Fic (Dean)

Chocolate and Vanilla - Jensen x Reader

~~Jensen sets his best friend up on a blind date to get her back out in the dating world. Little does she know, the man he had in mind was someone that she could see a future with. Squares Filled: Handholding (Fluff) Friends to lovers (Dean)

Personal Assistant - Jensen x Reader

~~It’s review and raise week on set and you’re looking forward to yours. Only when you get yours, your whole world is flipped around followed by a week of hell. It isn’t until Jensen takes notice that you’re a little off that something gets done about it.

Squares Filled: Free Space (Fluff) Hugs (Dean)

This Feeling - Jensen x Reader

~~Depression and Anxiety are the world’s best team when it comes to taking you down. Your head convinces you of things that aren’t always true. Your best friend Jensen is there to remind you of that.

Square Filled: Free Space (Dean)

Know How it Feels - Dean x Reader

~~Normally, your monthly visitor is something you can handle and the boys can’t. An early period brings you a lot more pain than you anticipated. To Sam, it’s just cramps. Dean has a little more concern. Neither of them really know what it’s like to get your period and everything that comes along with it.

Squares Filled: Mutual Pining (Dean) Playing with their Hair (Fluff)

Some Kind of Sadness - Jensen x Reader

~~A Friday night shift at the coffee shop brings you an unexpected customer with a lot more than a cup of coffee on his mind. Squared Filled: Coffee Shop AU (Dean)

Nothing like Heart Break - Jensen x Reader

~~Tonight was the night you were finally going to meet the guy you had been talking to online for the last six months. The person you least expected showed up, leaving you speechless before taking off and heading home to your roommate, who has a few choice words to share.

Squares filled: Feelings Accidently Revealed (Fluff) Online Dating (Genre) Roommates (Dean)

Living Your Life - Jensen x Reader

~~A tragic accident leaves you on the side of the road, not daring to look down at the warm sensation your body is feeling. The only thing on your mind is the man you walked away from over a stupid fight. The feeling of regret is almost stronger than the pain from the injuries you sustained.

Squared Filled: Engagement (Fluff)

Fragile Heart - Dean x Reader

~~You’re out celebrating your new job with your two best friends. When you part ways, you find an attractive man sitting next to you. A man who you have more than a few things in common with, along with an attraction to one another that could get you into trouble. Squares Filled: One Night Stand with New Boss (Fluff)

One and One Make Three - Home for the Holidays

~~Jensen and the Reader are headed to New York to spend their first Christmas together as a couple with the Y/L/N’s. Jensen learns something about the Reader that has him wondering about any other hidden secrets.

All I Ever Wanted - Dean x Reader

~~You had been staying with the Winchester’s since the beginning of the quarantine. A nice, safe place to stay with your favourite people. After months of being stuck at home, you’re really missing out on hugs and affection and you’re wondering if you were wearing out your welcome in the Bunker.

Jensen Hugs - Jensen x Reader

~~A tough day has you calling your best friend Jensen for some much needed hugs.

Reasons to Keep Going - Jensen x Reader (Jensen’s POV)

~~Jensen heads home after a long day of shooting to celebrate the remain hour of October 23rd with his girl. A day that quickly became so significant in their relationship that they look back on it in detail as a reminder of how far one of them has come.

#Fics of 2020 #Masterlist #Little review #Proud of myself #accomplishments #Writer life #Jen updates #Jensen x Reader #Dean x Reader #Supernatural Fanfiction

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mrsseverussnape · 3 years

Text

Love Is You - chapter 11

A/n: hopefully this is gonna be posted… It was very stormy and the power is off for hours because of it. I tried to create a moodboard and i am trying to post it but even my own data is not working very well, the storm was that bad and probably damaged something… I deserve some comments after trying that hard to post that😂

Christmas was around the corner, but Scarlett wasn't as excited as she used to be even it was her favourite time of the year. She was planning to celebrate it with her kids but apparently, they had other plans which she found out quite late. Sirius has invited Leo and Remus over for a boys Christmas celebration and Carina would celebrate it with her boyfriend's family this year. Actually both of the kids have offered to stay with her but she didn't want to ruin their plans for her own enjoyment. Then Scarlett thought to spend the day with her parents just like the old days but it turned out they have already booked a holiday, they would be in Switzerland during Christmas week. So this plan has cancelled too for her. Normally she wouldn't mind staying alone but on special days she would like to have a company, especially this year she needed it more. Scarlett thought if she could invite someone over for Christmas but she didn't have many friends and the ones she had already married and would celebrate it with their families or they were living in abroad. Then one possible person came to her mind but she wasn't sure if he had someone special to celebrate the Christmas with. But she wanted to give it a try and wrote a letter to Severus and invited him over for dinner.

Christmas had a special place in their relationship. They have started dating on December, couple of days prior Scarlett's 18th birthday then she has invited him to her house for Christmas break when she found out he would stay at Hogwarts and with that he could meet with her parents. And the best memory of that Christmas was the present that Severus gave to her. He has got her a white British long hair kitten that she fell in love with immediately. Severus has gotten that idea since Scarlett was such a cat lady and actually she was a cat herself as an animagus, also she has told him about her late cat who passed away a year ago. Scarlett has named the new kitten Pearl and she has become basically their baby and in the summer of the same year they got another kitten together and named him Paul. The warm feeling of the memories made her smile, these happy memories has become her comfort zone lately.

It was the Christmas evening and the kids were ready to leave while Scarlett was busy decorating a cake. Leo and Carina came to the kitchen to say goodbye to her.

"Mum the cake looks delicious but isn't it way too big just for you to eat?"

"I will have a friend over, i won't be alone."

"Oh you didn't mention that. Now we don't feel as guilty for leaving you alone. Who is coming?"

"Professor Snape."

The kids exchanged looks for a moment. They still haven't said anything to her about the trunk so she had no idea that they know about her past relationship with Severus Snape.

"It will be great for you two to remember good old days, I am sure you have missed them. Have fun!"

Scarlett looked at Carina rather suspiciously after what she just said. She was asking and talking a lot about Severus and her lately. "Thank you... Are you leaving?"

"Yep, take care and don't drink much mum."

"Okay mother." Scarlett rolled her eyes at her daughter. "You two have fun and say merry Christmas to everyone from me." She kissed their cheeks goodbye. "Love you."

"Love you too mum, bye!" Carina and Leo both apparated at the same time, leaving Scarlett by herself.

She did the final touches on the cake and put it in the refrigerator to set. Now she needed to get dressed before he came. Scarlett decided on a velvet bodycon dress which is off shoulder and its emerald green colour was complimenting her copper red hair beautifully. She brushed and styled her wavy hair and finally put her signature red lipstick. Scarlett looked herself in the mirror and enjoyed her view truly for the first time in a while. She hasn't dressed up fully for a long time and she has missed seeing herself like this.

The knock on the door took her away from her thoughts. She rushed to the door and took a deep breath before opening it. When she opened the door and saw him standing there with a winter bouquet and wine bottle in his hands. It was such a coincidence that he has picked a velvet emerald green jacket to combine with his black trousers and shirt.

"Welcome Severus, come in! It is snowing outside."

"Hello." He smiled and entered the house once he lived in together with her, handed her the bouquet and the wine he brought. “These are for you.”

"Ah thank you, the flowers are so pretty!" She inhaled the flowers’ scent.

"Not as pretty as you..." Severus couldn't take his eyes off of her, Scarlett has aged like a fine wine.

She blushed lightly at his statement and looked away from him. "You can directly go to the dinner table; we better eat them before they get cold. And you know what, i cooked everything by myself, no help from the house elf!"

"Today is the big day then huh? You are showing me your improved cooking skills?"

"Oh yes today is the day!" Scarlett giggled while they were taking their seats.

He looked at the small feast that she prepared for them. It wasn't a classic Christmas feast since both of them were vegetarians but everything was looking more than perfect.

"I must say, i am already impressed Scarlett. Everything looks and smells splendid."

"Everything tastes splendid too, i guarantee." She winked at him. "Help yourself, bon Appetit!"

After the dinner they moved to the couch with their drinks in hands. Severus has really enjoyed the foods even he admitted that Scarlett's cooking skills have moved from 1 to 5 point. Scarlett was more than happy to hear that because cooking wasn't her best skill at all.

Hours have passed and they have talked little bit of that and little bit of this, ate the cake Scarlett has baked and listened to some music from the record player. After 4 glasses of wine, Scarlett had an unnecessary amount of courage and suddenly asked him if he had anyone in his life even though she wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear the answer. Severus wasn't expecting that question at all but he had the answer.

"No, i don't." Severus finished off the wine in his glass. Starting a new relationship didn’t even cross his mind after their breakup. It was either Scarlett or no one for him.

"How come you are still single? You would make a great husband, i am sure."

Severus sighed and shook his head. "Scarlett, you are the only one who value me, every part of me that i don't even like myself... And i am so stupid that i let you go..." He wasn't planning the say those things but they did flow from his mouth, apparently wine has affected him too. But he didn’t care, if they had to do the talk they would now.

"I didn't want to go, you left me..." Scarlett whispered while playing with the wine glass. He hasn't even given her a proper reason, just left her. "Why did you leave? I deserve an answer Severus... It has been years, won’t you tell me still?”

Severus still didn't want to tell her the reason, he was sure it would make Scarlett very upset but he knew he should eventually. The reason has made sense to him at the time but the moment he broke up with her, Severus has regretted his decision deeply but he couldn't turn back because he has thought she wouldn't want him back anymore after how much he hurt her.

Severus took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, this talk wouldn’t be easy at all for both of them. "I will tell you but please let me finish it before saying anything… You remember that nightmare-like times between us and Sirius… I have visited Sirius when he was at the hospital after his suicide attempt, this was before your dad informed you about it. All he talked about was you and how much he loves you, how much you mean to him. And i thought maybe he loves you more since he tried to kill himself after you cut the ties with him, because of me... Scar i don't know, i just thought that he could give you more things than me and you deserve the best so i decided that you would be happier with him than being with me... Don’t look at me like that…"

Scarlett couldn't believe the things she just heard. She has always thought that he fell in love with someone else or he didn't love her anymore. "Severus, that is the stupidest thing i've ever heard from you... Didn't i show you enough that i was in love with you deeply and i was so happy with you...? I didn't want anyone or anything else but you Severus. I loved you… but apparently you didn’t love me enough…"

“That’s not true…” He couldn't dare to look into her eyes or say anything else, the words stuck into his throat. Now he knew it is a stupid reason but as a young boy it made sense to him. Severus has never thought a beautiful and rich girl like Scarlett would be his friend, let alone be dating someone like him. And there was Sirius, Hogwarts's most handsome boy and Scarlett's lifelong best friend, plus he was in love with her like crazy. Sirius looked like a better fit for Scarlett rather than himself, he never felt confident against Sirius, Severus didn’t have the looks nor the money while Sirius had both. But now looking at Scarlett and Sirius's divorce, it was clear that his thoughts were nonsense because he would never cheat on Scarlett, ever.

"Severus...?"

Scarlett’s trembling voice brought him back to reality from his thoughts. Severus looked into her tearful eyes, she always told more with her eyes and Severus liked that silent communication but now her eyes had an effect of a dagger and stabbed his heart. Then his eyes moved to her red lips and unconsciously he leant into them ever so slightly but he pulled himself back in the next second he noticed what’s he doing, he shouldn't have kissed her even he wanted nothing else. Scarlett was the same; her heart was wanting to kiss him but her brain was saying it's not a good idea at the current situation.

"I better go... Thank you for the dinner." Severus stood up to leave suddenly; If he stayed any longer, he was scared that he wouldn't control himself and the conversation had a tool on both of them.

Scarlett just nodded, she still couldn’t process the things Severus revealed. "Good night..."

"Good night Scarlett..." And he vanished in the air.

Taglist:

@snapefiction @lizlil @elizabeth-baelish @misselsbells06 @mais-e @lunnybunny12 @anfre109 @entirelymesmerising @wolvesofwinter13 @mrssnivellussnape @mestin-writes

If you wanna be on my taglist, let me know!

#severus snape #pro snape #snape #sirius black #fanfiction #severus snape x oc #snape x oc #sirius black x oc #severus snape angst #oc #oc fanfic #mrs.severussnape #mrsseverussnapefanfic #fanfic #harry potter #love is you #severus snape fluff #angst

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trustsalvatorewriting · 4 years

Text

wasteland, baby! | kol mikaelson - chapter eight

Summary: Kol makes a deal with the Hollow to revive the first woman he ever loved. Unfortunately, it doesn’t go as planned.

Trust’s Note: Please like and reblog! I hope you enjoy.

Word Count: 2,473

_____________

❝ i hate all the hurt that you put me through, and that i blame myself for letting you ❞

HENRY PEARL RAN HIS FINGERS OVER THE GOLD WIRED RING, a soft but victorious smile on his face. The small, handmade ring glimmered in the light he'd hung above his desk. The night before, he'd gone to the nearest voodoo shop to purchase the smallest garnet stone, ignoring the sunrise as he immediately ran back home and into his bed. Admittedly, he'd been afraid that the ring wouldn't turn out the way he wanted; but Aniya had always looked so heartbroken whenever she looked at her own, and there was a part of him that couldn't bear to see that look on her face as often as he did.

There was a part of him that believed she would never love him -- not in the way that he wanted her to -- and he wouldn't blame her, either. She looked like she could conquer the world with a movement of her wrist. She would want more out of the world and he would never be able to give it to her. She was beautiful, and extraordinary, and he was just a boy.

Still, he had to admit he's been happy lately, and he'd wallowed in it selfishly. Henry knew in his heart that it wouldn't last very long, but the was all the more reason to enjoy it in the moment. A few days ago, Aniya told him she found him intriguing, and he told her 'we are only interested by things we don't understand.'

Henry Pearl's eyes were big enough to take it all in: the world, Aniya, and himself. He could float through the sky and never come back down. He wouldn't need to.

He set the complex -- yet beautiful -- garnet ring down on his desk, next to a photograph of he and his mother on her birthday, when Henry was only eight or nine years old. Colla Pearl had been a beautiful woman, with emerald green eyes and medium brown hair; though she hadn't been a healthy one. It was when Henry was thirteen that she became sick, and it was at fifteen that she died. Neither Henry nor his father had dealt with it properly.

Frowning, he glanced up at the calendar, and it occurred to him that Colla's birthday would be in a few days. A sick feeling over came Henry, and it struck him that it would be eight years since her death.

The twenty-one year old boy was pulled out his thoughts when he heard rumbling and music playing from the living room. Henry listened for a moment, hoping -- praying -- the music wasn't what he thought it was. When he heard a crash, he shut off his lamp and quickly made his way out of his closet-sized bedroom and down the hall. He was met with a low ringing noise to his left, where his father left the home phone hanging off the desk.

He hesitated, but picked it up to his ear. A low buzz emitted from the phone, signalling that whoever his father had tried to call had hung up, and he carefully set it back down on the charger. As he proceeded down the hall, he looked to his left and noticed the empty bedroom that belonged to his father. The bedsheets had been jumbled together, and he'd left his night lamp on, as if he'd tried to get some rest but changed his mind all together. Underneath the bed was an empty six-pack of Coors Lite, and Henry grimaced at the sight.

"Ja, må han leva! Ja, må han leva! Ja, må han leva uti hundrade år!" The Swedish song played throughout the home through a single DVD player. The birthday song mocked the atmosphere, and dread filled Henry's stomach as he realized why his father, William Pearl, had chosen to stay up so late: he'd believed it was Henry's mother's birthday.

Sorrow crawled its way to Henry's throat, wrapping itself around his neck and squeezing as he reached to turn off the music. Henry's vision went glassy as silence filled the apartment once again, and he heard his father cursing him in the kitchen.

"What the fuck? We're having a party, Henry!" William complained, rushing over to the player and restarting the track. "We're gonna have one hell of a party!"

Henry's gaze flitted across the room as he struggled to keep eye contact with William. The fifty-year-old man was nearly nude, wearing only a pair of boxers as he opened a box of party supplies Henry had tried to hide in the attic. William dumped the box upside down on the wooden floors, and Christmas ornaments and streamers were sent flying across the living room.

"Papa," Henry began. His throat went dry as an old ornament flew across the floor: a photo of he and his parents that they'd taken at the mall. "Papa, please stop."

"Let's make it look nice, here at home," William declared, messily organizing the supplies into different piles. He made his way to the small kitchen table and Henry's new shipment of silverware onto the table. "Here, you set the table--"

"Papa--" He tried again, taking a small step toward his father as he climbed onto the couch in an effort to hang a 'happy birthday' sign from the windows. For a moment, he wondered where William had gotten the money to purchase it; then it occurred to him that he left twenty dollars on the kitchen table every night in case of an emergency. Henry's throat tightened as he realized that his father had been impulsively spending the money on alcohol and useless decorations. It wasn't as though either of them celebrated holidays.

"Here is her party, why aren't you happy? Don't you miss her?" William's tone changed as he looked back at Henry, his eyes reddened and crazed as he screamed, "Be happy, for fuck's sake!"

When Henry's expression didn't shift, William reached for one of the plates Henry had bought and tossed it in his direction, screaming "here is her fucking party!"

Henry felt pressure against his shoulder as the plate slammed against the right side of his body and fell to the hard ground. He watched as it shattered, and cringed, his expression shifting to one of helplessness. "Papa, please stop."

"What?" William turned back to his son, a bright smile on his face as he walked forward, grabbing Henry's head with his hands and holding it against his own. His breath wreaked of alcohol and whatever he'd eaten in the past few weeks.

Henry wrapped his arm around his father's shoulder and tried to lead him back down the hall. "Please, Papa, just go to bed. Come here."

"I can't go to bed now!" He exclaimed, casually fighting off his son's grip and placing his dirtied hand on his already bruised cheek.

The boy flinched away from his father's touch. "Let's go to bed, Papa, come on..."

"But I'm arranging a dinner party for your mother," William argued, a dazed smile on his face. Henry would have sworn he was having a psychological break, but he supposed grief did that to people. William had lost his wife; it was only fitting that he acted this way. Still, the longer he acted like this, the easier it would be for William to hurt himself.

Henry tried again, carefully reaching for his arms as he tried to walk him back to his room. He comforted, "You can do that tomorrow, c-can you come to bed now?"

"No, I'm very busy making a birthday dinner for your mom, so the fucking cunt can finally be happy!"

"Papa, calm down, let's go to bed--" The boy bargained, ignoring the icy feeling that grew in his chest. His father would always say cruel things during his episodes, especially about Henry's mother; but they still stung every time he said them.

William shrugged off his son's grasp, walking into the small kitchen where a pot of potatoes and -- was that dirt? -- boiled over the stove. Henry reached for the pot while his father was distracted with pouring a bag full of potatoes into another pot. He held it over the sink and filled it with water in an attempt to wash out what mess William had made while Henry was busy.

"What the fuck are you doing? Stop it!" His father cursed, snatching the pot from Henry's grasp and putting it back on the stove. Smoke rose from the burning potatoes, and the young boy did his best to wave them away from the detector and sprinklers. As his father threw random spices onto the food, he exclaimed, "I told you, we're having a party! Look, we're gonna eat potatoes and shit."

The older man brushed long, gray locks from his face and reached to turn on everything on the stove, despite using only two pots filled to the brim with potatoes. William turned the nozzle and the oven lit up, as Henry took another step forward. "No. No, Papa, go to bed--"

"Don't ruin the food, now!" William sneered. Henry gulped and reached to turn the stove off, but his hands were immediately grabbed by William. His father glared at him for a moment, raising his hand. A stinging sensation covered Henry's left cheek.

"Please, Papa--"

Slap.

"C-Can't you j-j-just--"

Slap.

A sharp pain quickly formed below Henry's eye socket, a jarring feeling in his skull as William's fist connected with his son's cheek. A bruise began forming on Henry's face as he met eyes with his father again, a tired but pleading look in his eyes.

"Why c-c-can't -- why c-can't you go t-to bed now, Papa? Please..." Tears fell from Henry's eyes, his hair disheveled and shoulders hunched forward as he looked into the eyes of his estranged father. He was met with a cold glare and reddened eyes. Henry swallowed, preparing for another hit, the left side of his face reddened and covered with tears.

William nodded after a moment, his jaw clenched as he stared up at his son. "I was just trying to make some food and make things right." He cleared his throat and looked around the kitchen before taking a step toward Henry. "Move the fuck out of my way."

Henry stepped to the side as William made his way back to his bedroom. He let out a low breath and walked toward the stove, turning off all of the nozzles and the oven, and tossing the pot of potatoes and gunk into the garbage. He thought for a moment, then unplugged the microwave and toaster as well. As Henry went to clean up the mess in the living room, he allowed himself to accept his reality.

He would never be able to live in his apartment in the Quarter. It would be his -- overpriced -- art studio, and nothing more.

A tear slipped from his eye as he made his way into the attic, where he had organized Colla's items into different boxes. Henry moved to look through her 'treasured items,' the ones that she'd kept close to her heart when she was alive. Dainty pieces of jewelry tangled together at the bottom of the box, next to an old journal. Henry's brows knitted together in curiosity as he reached for the small brown book.

The pages were stained brown, implying that Colla had gone out of her way to dip them into tea. A chuckle left Henry's lips as he began to read her Swedish writings. After a few moments, he realized the book hadn't been her private journal, but a notebook, where she'd studied different and rare types of witchcraft.

'Tyaag witches participate in several different rituals in order to achieve functional mortality. However, functional mortality is only offered to twins born with earth magic. Once achieved, the twins will be sacrificed on their eighteenth birthday. This will usually consist of a slit throat and a knife through the base of the skull, paralyzing and killing them.

'The base of the skull is the fifth chakra, and the mouth of God. Three days after their death, the witch twins are resurrected. Unfortunately, the memory of their friends and loved ones is wiped completely of their existence. This is due to the fact that the witches are promised a new life; and therefore, their slate is wiped clean.

'Tyaag rituals are notorious for failed resurrections, as if the children do not comply with the fifteen rituals they need to complete before their deaths, the sacrifice will fail, and they will remain in spiritual limbo for the rest of eternity.'

Henry shut the book immediately, remembering the wound on Aniya's neck. He cleared his throat and shook his head, as if his memory were an etch-a-sketch. He glanced outside and noticed the faded sunlight, and realized he would be late for his double-shift at the diner if he didn't leave soon.

He quickly reached for the wired ring and put it into a small white box, complete with a little ribbon. A smile made its way across his face as he quickly changed into his work uniform, all but giddy to see Aniya again.

As he made his way out of the cramped apartment in downtown New Orleans, he caught a glimpse of his father drooling into his white satin pillows. Henry paused, then went into his room, pulling the duvet over the man's chubby body and tucking it over him. He quickly picked up the pack of alcohol on the floor and shut off the light in his bedroom with a final breath of relief. He grabbed his things and locked the door behind him, making his way to his old Jeep.

Henry drove in peaceful silence, admiring the lights and music of the city before stopping at the dumpster behind the diner.

It was there that he tossed his father's pack of alcohol and his mother's box of party supplies. It wasn't as if either of the items would ever do him good. He was exhausted, and no longer sure he would live to his twenty-eighth birthday.

Frankly, he wasn't sure he wanted to.

________

i hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. i knew that henry needed to have his own chapter eventually, as he is just as complex as aniya and kol, with his own goals and ambitions outside of being the person who works in the restaurant. that being said, henry is based off martin from the swedish movie 'behind the lights' and henry pearl from 'battlecreek.' please comment and tell me what you think! - trust

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antisocial-af · 3 years

Text

Day 8: Malec / Happy Birthday Magnus Bane!!!

Title: Magnus’ Wish

25 Days of Pairings: Day 8 Malec

Happy Birthday Magnus Bane!

Rating: G

Wordcount: 5911

No Major Archive Warnings

SFW, Holiday Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Parents Magnus and Alec, Adorable Max and Rafe Lightwood-Bane.

Summary:

The Lightwood-Banes partake in some holiday traditions.

Click Here to Read on Ao3

Story:

“Ayah! We need more frosting!” Rafael called out l from behind Magnus.

Magnus set to finish searching for the plastic knives he was sure he had. Alec hated it when he would just summon everything, especially now that Max was starting to come into his powers, even if, currently, there were only small sparks. His husband had been firm in his belief that Magnus should set a good example and not use magic for simple tasks. After some teasing about loving a scowling Inquisitor, Magnus had relented and seen Alec’s points, drawing a line when it came to groceries, though. They compromised that he would make a shopping list every two weeks and summon the groceries to the loft, of course, always leaving money behind for the items.

“Ayah,” Max whined.

“Rafe, there should be another piping bag full of frosting next to you. Could you help your brother?” Magnus guided them as he kept his previous search. He was glad he had at least convinced Alec to let him summon an extra bag of royal icing to ensure they had enough to build the gingerbread house. Magnus knew their boys might spill some in the decorating process, so he wanted to be prepared.

“We used it, Ayah,” the five-year-old informed him, “I still need more to put the gummies on Max’s horns.”

Magnus blinked a few times, processing what Rafe had just said, and then turned to the boys, only to feel a grimace form on his face when he saw how much of the icing hadn’t made it on the gingerbread pieces and instead on the boys, mostly Max.

“Alexander,” Magnus called calmly, “love, you were supposed to be watching the boys.”

“I was!” Alec defended himself as he walked back into the kitchen with some of the baby wipes they still kept around since Max’s diaper days. The couple had found that the wipes were excellent for cleaning up children after meals. He stopped in his tracks when he caught sight of why his husband was upset. “Boys…”

“Look, Daddy! I’m a gingerbread house!” Max, their three-year-old, shouted up at them as he pointed out all the icing and small candies decorating him.

“I helped get the crown around his head!” Rafe proclaimed proudly.

True to Rafe’s word, the young warlock had a small crown made from the pearl-like candy that came with the gingerbread house kit.

“You were supposed to decorate the house,” Alec corrected. He realized he would have to go back to retrieve the whole pack of wipes instead. There was no way the three he brought with him would ever be enough. Alec thought of maybe trying to convince his husband to clean the boys with magic instead. The archer wasn’t looking forward to options of wiping down Max and Rafe or giving them both a bath. Both of them sounded draining to him. However, he felt guilty asking anything of Magnus on his birthday. They were supposed to be spending today decorating the gingerbread house with their sons and then see the city’s Christmas Tree Lighting Event downtown.

“Sayang, do you mind if I cleaned them with magic?” Magnus asked, already calling his cerulean magic forward. “It will take longer to bathe them.”

Magnus looked towards the wall-mounted clock at his last statement. They still had two hours before they needed to leave, but if they wanted to finish the gingerbread house, a bath for their sons was not in the cards.

“I want to be cleaned by Ayah’s magic!” Rafe volunteered excitedly, always enjoying the warmth his Ayah’s magic brought. Rafe had noticed how calming his Ayah’s magic could be after multiple, avoided nightmares and panic attacks.

“Why can’t I keep my decorations!?” Max cried out. He stomped his foot down on the stool and crossed his arms, pouting at his parents. He and Rafe had worked hard on making him into a gingerbread house, and Max didn’t understand why Daddy and Ayah couldn’t see how a waste it would be to wash it off.

“Remember we are going out to watch the tree lights tonight, Blue,” Alec reasoned. He was always the first to bat when it came to convincing the youngest of the Lightwood-Banes to do anything. “We promised Tia Izzy and Tio Jace pictures of the best lights, remember?”

“I know, Daddy,” Max stated, still pouting. He had enlisted Rafe’s help to make him a costume for the pics like he had worn on Halloween. He didn’t know why his parents didn’t understand; they had outfits on, too! Ayah had made Daddy wear a matching Christmas sweater. “That’s why I wanted to put on a costume.”

“A costume, Max?” Magnus questioned as he looked at his gingerbread house son.

“Maxie wanted to wear something Christmas like, as you and Daddy are,” Rafe explained for his younger brother.

Alec and Magnus both looked down at the Christmas sweaters that Maryse had given them. Magnus’ was red and white with a simple snowman and some snowflake pattern. Alec’s had the same design except in green and white instead. Maryse, of course, had provided two smaller sweaters for the boys, which were much more intricate. The parents just hadn’t let the boys put them on yet; in fear, they would stain them. They had kept them hung up in their room so their sons wouldn’t see them and attempt to pout their way into them right away.

“Maxie, Daddy and I put yours and Rafe’s sweaters away so they wouldn’t get dirty while we made the gingerbread house,” Magnus explained as he looked at Alec, still holding his magic at bay. He knew his husband would agree to the magic clean-up. He could see it in the way Alec looked between Max and the small amount of wipes he had brought with him. Still, Magnus respected his husband’s wishes when it came to how they would raise their children.

“Once Ayah cleans you both up with his magic, and we finish this gingerbread house, we can get you both in the sweaters Grandma sent for you,” Alec spoke to support his husband, hoping his husband caught his approval. He would forever be grateful that one of them had magic to keep up with their children. If they had to do everything the mundane way when it came to the boys, they would have to contract their own laundry services 24/7. Max always found a way to appear with a new stain any time they lost sight of him for a second, and Rafe, like the good older brother, would follow along.

“Grandma got us sweaters?” Max asked excitedly.

“Yes, Blue,” Magnus responded, allowing his magic to sweep through Rafe. He watched as the dried frosting and multiple candy pieces disappeared. He smiled at the way Rafe would look at the swirls and sparks, trying to catch some in between his palms. “All done, Rafe.”

“Thank you, Ayah!” Rafe shouted happily.

“Blue, are you going to let Ayah clean you up so we can finish?” Alec prompted as he kneeled close to Max, still at a distance so that he wouldn’t get dirty himself. “The sooner we finish the gingerbread house, the faster you can see the sweaters Grandma got you both.”

“Why can’t I put it on after Ayah cleans me, Daddy?” Max attempted with a pout. “I promise I will be extra careful not to get dirty.”

“Maxie, we can finish the house super fast!” Rafe stepped forward. He knew that try as he might, his little brother wasn’t capable of staying clean.

“Really?” Max turned to his brother. If Rafe helped him, Max knew he could get to the sweater faster.

Magnus watched the exchange between the boys with a smile. Rafe had started to learn how to get his brother to listen to him, and Magnus didn’t know if he should be concerned. So far, the little Shadowhunter had only used his newfound skill to help them get Max to listen to them.

Magnus had been glad he had paid attention, because as soon as Rafe had nodded in response, Max took off towards Magnus, asking to be cleaned right away. Magnus’ quick skills saved him from a ruined outfit as he enveloped his youngest in his magic, cleaning him, exactly before he collided with his legs.

“Thank you, Ayah!!” Max hugged Magnus and smiled up at him in between the giggles.

“You are quite welcome, my little blueberry,” Magnus ruffled his hair softly and looked up at his husband with a shrug and a smile. Magnus had never been happy to have been involved in combat. Still, he had to admit the reflexes and quick magic abilities he gained from it had become useful in dealing with their rambunctious children.

Alec instead went to wipe down the counter and cabinets. He looked at the time and saw the ninety minutes left till they needed to walk out the door.

“Babe, would you mind summoning us another one of these?” Alec held up the mostly empty bags of icing so Magnus would understand. “Maybe some of the candies as well.”

Magnus looked down at the boys at that comment. There had not been enough candy on Max to justify all the missing ones, meaning the boys had a snack while working on their masterpiece.

“Boys?” Magnus prompted, and he could see how they had started to look away from Alec and him. “Did you get hungry?”

“Maybe a little…,” Rafe admitted looking at everything in the room but his parents. It wasn’t like they could reuse the candy they had taken off Max after scrapping their first crown design. Max and he weren’t about to let good candy go to waste. “It was only the ones we took off of Max’s first crown, I swear.”

“I’ll let this one slide since I don’t think it was that many, but remember we were already going to get hot chocolate while out. Too many sweets will make your stomachs upset,” Magnus reasoned the best he could with them.

“We are still getting hot chocolate, right, Ayah?” Rafe asked, turning on the rare puppy eyes from him onto Magnus.

“I could convince Ayah otherwise if you both promise to behave while we build the gingerbread house,” Alec offered as soon as he saw the chocolate puppy eyes. He knew how weak his husband was to any of their downcast eyes; it wasn’t a fair match up.

“Promise! We will behave, Daddy! I will make sure Max does as well,” Rafael quickly turned to Alec, now joined by Max with his own pair of puppy eyes.

Magnus waved his hands, calling his magic again to summon new icing, handing it specifically to his husband away from the kids, and a fresh supply of candy. He was thankful that the kids hadn’t decided to construct the crown from pieces of gingerbread instead.

They quickly found a steady pace after Alec took the lead, letting boys point out where the frosting needed to be placed and allowing them to decorate the walls with the candy. Magnus helped keep the boys clean, with a wipe in hand just in case, and rolling up their sleeves every time they would fall back down their arms.

“Done! Sweaters now?!” Max cried out triumphantly as he placed the last of the hard gummies on the roof of their gingerbread house.

“Yes, why don’t you go wash your hands and face with Daddy while I go get yours and Rafe’s outfits ready,” Magnus chuckled as he wiped some frosting off of Alec’s face.

Alec was about to lean forward for a kiss as compensation for volunteering for clean-up duty when Rafael started to tug on his sweater sleeve.

“Daddy! Come on. You can be mushy later!” Rafe reprimanded as he kept tugging Alec towards the door.

Alec smiled at Magnus and shook his head. He turned around, taking both of his sons’ hands into his own, and instantly regretted it when he felt how much icing they still managed to touch even though he was the one holding the icing’s bag.

“Come on then, ” Alec led them out the door and to the restroom.

Magnus could hear them as they made their way to the restroom, cheering and giggling the whole way. He did a quick wipe down of the counter, mundane-style, before he set off to get the boys’ outfits.

Once he was in the master bedroom he and Alec shared Magnus, saw the pair of gingerbread-man-like sweaters hanging on the closet door. Maryse had seen them at a shop and couldn’t resist buying a matching set of sweaters for her grandbabies. Magnus had to admit that with the brown snow pants he planned to pair the sweaters with, the boys would look the part of gingerbread men. The brown sweaters had simple white, green, and red patterns to mimic the frosting and candy buttons a gingerbread man usually had.

“Ayah!! We are done! We are done!”

“Can we have our sweaters now!?”

The cries of both his boys set him in motion. Magnus sneakingly waved his hands before anyone entered the room, bringing the two pairs of pants he needed from the boys’ rooms. When he turned around, he found out he hadn’t been as sneaky as he had hoped. Alec was looking at him with an eyebrow raised, looking at the pants now on the bed. Magnus offered his husband the best innocent smile he could conjure up before Alec broke and smiled at him shaking his head.

“Max, Ayah is going to help you so he can also assist you in applying your glamour, alright?” Alec hated having to request Max to wear his glamour, but mundanes wouldn’t understand their son’s blue pigment. Alec knew Max didn’t fully understand now, and the young boy just thought it was a fun game or another costume whenever he did have to use glamour.

“Daddy, I can dress myself!” Rafe proudly stated as he walked to his Ayah to collect his clothes.

As of lately, Rafael had started to take his role more seriously as the older one and, in the process, had begun to claim that he no longer needed his parents’ help doing things like getting water, a snack, or putting on clothes. Magnus had drawn the line on picking his clothes out when Rafe had tried to walk out of the loft with five different jackets on, proclaiming his Tia Izzy had told him it was called layering.

After the boys were dressed and true to his word Rafe got prepared all by himself; Magnus started working on Max’s glamour. They had settled long ago on matching the glamour’s skin tone to Rafael’s, his hair color would match Alec’s, and on Max’s request, even though blue eyes were common enough to leave them be, Max’s eyes were shifted to the same chocolate brown Magnus used as his.

“Done, Ayah?” Max asked as he felt the magic starting to fade.

“All set, Maxie,” Magnus confirmed, before turning to Rafe. “Good job, Rafe. Soon you will be trying to make your breakfast and then want to train only with your Daddy and Tio Jace,” Magnus pulled Rafe close as the other started to chuckle at his dramatics.

“Ayaaahh,” Rafe whined between giggles as he tried to get away.

Alec watched Max move forward and try to help his brother get away from Magnus. He smiled and wondered if this could be another one; he discreetly asked Catarina to pull out from his memories as a photo so that he could frame it. He rarely did because all of his family memories were precious, but on rare occasions, he would ask. He had only done it five other times before.

“Are you ready, Sayang?”

“Yes, we need to be there soon, so we can stop for hot chocolate first,” Alec smiled and reached for Rafe’s hand as Magnus started to open the portal.

He set it to open up in an alley behind a Downworlder run cafe, where they would get their hot cocoa. They usually would appear inside the cafe with no problem, but Jack had warned them not to do it during the Holidays because he would also serve mundanes during that season.

After he stabilized the portal, Magnus reached for Max’s hand.

”Now remember boys, we do not let go of Daddy’s or my hand when we are crossing through,” Magnus instructed. He knew it was becoming redundant with how many times they used portals to travel.

“Yes, Ayah.” They both responded in unison.

Alec led Rafael with him and crossed through, closely followed behind by Magnus and Max. Then he quickly turned to check on the youngest boy, who was a bit iffy when it came to portal travel. Sometimes Max’s stomach wouldn’t exactly agree with the magic used to travel. To his relief, Max seemed fine as he kept tugging at Magnus’s hand when he realized where exactly they had landed.

“Calm down, Max,” Alec gently warned. The boy looked up at Alec and once again presented his puppy eyes. Even when glamoured, they never failed to cause a clench in Alec’s heart.

“We are almost there, Maxie,” Rafe chimed in with a smile as he pointed to the opening of the alley.

Luckily for them, the snow was still not sticking and instead was melting as the flurries fell. Max finally calmed down after Rafe held his hand, and as they walked out onto the sidewalk. If anyone saw them, they would just assume they were a typical mundane family; it was only those who belonged to the Shadow World who knew who exactly they were.

Alec opened the small cafe’s doors for his family, relishing the bits of warmth he felt just from entering.

“Look, Ayah!” Rafe pointed to the newly added display case full of pastries, “Can we have one, please? Please? Please?”

“Can we, Daddy?” Max added, directing his pleas at Alec, in case Rafe’s failed.

“Boys, we have a whole gingerbread house at home,” Magnus reasoned. He knew they couldn’t exactly eat the thing since they had already tried last year, and the gingerbread pieces weren’t exactly edible. Still, they were already getting hot chocolate, and he wasn’t looking forward to giving them more sugar.

“But Ayah, last year you said we couldn’t eat, but it was nice to make!” Rafael accused.

Alec internally sighed as he watched his husband try and defuse the situation. He let his eyes scan over to the display case and caught sight of a box of miniature Christmas decorated cakes; there were two different designs, a snowman and an ornament one, and there were two of each design. The round cakes were smaller in diameter than all of Magnus’ coasters at home. Alec cleared his throat in the agreed way to signal Magnus he needed his attention, but discreet enough not to let their sons notice.

Magnus looked up, followed his eyes to where Alec was signaling and noticed the boxes of 4 miniature cakes in the display case.

“You are right; it almost slipped my mind,” Magnus feigned as he ruffled Rafael’s hair. He pretended to look at the display case before pointing to the box of cakes. “Oh, look, boys! We could each get our own small cake with our hot chocolate.”

“Yes!” Max cheered, not seeing what his Ayah was pointing out, rejoicing instead that they were getting more sweets.

“Look, Ayah! This one has a reindeer on it!” Rafe pointed out to another box next to the one Alec had seen.

“Oh, it also has a snowflake one, and it’s blue!!” Max cheered at the other design in the same box as the reindeer.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite family,” Jack greeted them from behind the counter.

“Hello,” both Max and Rafe greeted back as their parents taught them.

“What can I get you today?”

“Four of the House Hot Chocolates and boys, have you decided on which box you want?” Magnus asked as he looked down to see his sons still looking at the cakes.

After some silent debating, Rafe stepped forward.

“We want the snowflake and ornament box, please,” Rafe stated clearly and politely, earning him a shoulder pat from Alec and a smile from Magnus.

“The box of small cakes with snowflake and ornament designs as well, please, Jack.” Magnus finished the order.

“No problem. Should have your order out in five minutes,” Jack confirmed, causing the children to cheer, throwing their hands up.

Alec guided Rafe, while Magnus grabbed Max’s hand again, so they could all stand to the side, letting other customers order while they waited.

“After this, we are going to the park, right?” Rafe asked, looking up at his Daddy.

“Correct. We are going to go sit on a bench and watch as they light the park’s tree and the other decorations they have,” Alec explained.

“Are we going to eat our cakes over there, Daddy?” Max asked.

“Yes, you can hold and sip at your hot cocoa but Ayah will hold the cakes till we are at the park’s bench,” Alec smiled at the slight frown he received from his youngest. Alec knew patience was not Max’s strong suit.

“Lightwood-Bane!” Jack called out from the cash register. He had all four drinks in to-go cups, two in child cups, with a removable paper grip on them that included sturdy-paper handles on both sides of them. It was so that parents could pull out both sides to simulate a sippy cup, or only one side to have a mug, depending on how their child would hold it better.

“Thanks, Jack. Hope you have a good day,” Alec replied as he moved forward and paid for their drinks and tip.

“Come again soon,” Jack smiled.

Magnus took one of the child cups and started to undo one of the handles, and set it in place so that Max could hold it. Max was now able to hold cups properly without any issue, but Magnus still didn’t want to take any chances, in case his grip on it lessened with only one hold; that was why he took the other handle out as well.

“Here you go, Blue,” Magnus offered the cup to Max.

“Can I do the handles on my cup?” Rafe asked before Alec had a chance to pull the tabs free.

“Sure, buddy,” Alec smiled and handed it over to Rafael, observing him just in case he needed assistance. Rafael struggled a bit to get the tabs loose first, but once he did, the handle popped into place with a bit of coaxing.

“Look, Ayah, I did it! Look, Maxie!” Rafe proudly showed off his cup with one of the handles pulled out.

“Good job, Rafe!” Magnus praised him. Rafael was growing up so fast , Magnus realized.

“Next time I want to try like Rafe, Daddy!” Max announced as he looked proudly at his older brother, wanting to do things like Rafe could.

“Maybe, Maxie,” Alec offered and grabbed his and Magnus’ cups, while Magnus took the small bag, holding their cakes for later.

They both took the boys’ hands as they started to get ready to leave. Rafe reached for Ayah’s hand, proclaiming it was his turn to hold it since Max had it on the way there. Max pouted for a second before Alec picked the young warlock up and carried him with one hand, putting the two hot chocolates in a drink carrier they had provided him. This way, he could hold Max in one hand and the drinks in another.

Magnus smiled at his husband and shook his head at how easy Alec gave in to Max at times.

“All set?” Magnus asked with a tight grip on the bag and Rafael’s hand. He got a chorus of affirmative answers from his family before they all exited the small cafe.

Alec was glad he decided to carry Max when he noticed how excited the boy was getting as the park came into vision at the end of the sidewalk.

“Daddy, can we play on the swings?” Max questioned right away.

“Not today, Maxie,” Alec replied as he shook his head, “remember we are here to see the Christmas lights.”

“Oh, right, the lights!” Max recalled and started to grow even more excited. “Also, we need pictures.”

Magnus smiled down to Rafe, as the young Shadowhunter smiled back up at him at his brother’s antics.

They came to the end of the sidewalk and entered the gates of the park’s entrance. They were met with a few people in festive gear passing out flyers and candy canes.

“Hello, are you here for the light festival?” a young girl greeted them. “Oh my gosh!!! You have the cutest gingerbread men as sons!”

“Thank you,” Max and Rafe replied in unison as they preened at the compliment.

“Awww, they answer together as well, and have manners! They are honestly so adorable.”

“Yes, we are. Our boys and my husband wanted to get some holiday photos and enjoy the show,” Alec replied with a proud smile.

“Thank you for your compliments,” Magnus accepted warmly.

“Welcome then. The show should start in twenty minutes. Since you have little ones, you get access to the front spots, don’t worry, there’s still benches there. Just for this year, the city borrowed some of Santa’s reindeer to help with the lights, and we are dividing the front spots for people with younger kids so they can get a closer view of them,” she explained, winking to the boys as she said the Santa’s part.

“Santa?” Rafe asked as his eyes got bigger. “He let you borrow them? Won’t he need them?”

“Yeah! Won’t Santa need them? How come you took them?” Max parroted but was still excited that they would get to see the reindeer.

“Not to worry. We only borrowed the reindeer for today; after that, the reindeer will fly back to the North Pole so they can help Santa for Christmas,” she explained so expertly that it was apparent, she had handled these types of questions before.

“Oh! That’s nice of him!” Max concluded with an excited smile, and Rafael nodded along with his brother.

“With that settled here you are,” she slipped the flyer with a picture of children playing in the snow in between Alec’s drink carrier. “This is just so that they know you are supposed to be there since you have kids. I doubt they will get far from you, but in case one of you needs to attend to them both and leave the other solo on the bench. It’s just for your convenience, so we won’t accidentally ask you to move because you don’t seem to have children.”

“Thank you,” Alec responded with a smile. He was grateful she had put it in between the drinks instead of trying to hand it to him. It would’ve ended in an awkward dance, where he would’ve had to put Max down eventually.

“Most of the benches at the beginning are taken, I believe, but there are still some free ones at the middle and the end, ” she outlined as the family started to make their way through the entrance.

Magnus smiled and nodded in response, turning back to follow Alec’s lead.

“I think an end bench would be best. It gives us time to set up the kids with their cakes and the phone cameras for the photos,” Alec offered as he started to observe the layout of the park. He looked around at the other families enjoying their time and at the kids running around impatiently, waiting for the show to start.

“Agreed. Come on, Rafe.” Magnus guided them towards the end and looked around till he spotted a few open benches next to them. “There should be perfect.”

Max and Rafael grew more excited as they stepped closer to the bench. Once there, they knew they would be allowed to walk around it, but more importantly, they would finally get their small cakes. Max was set down first, followed by Rafe, before they sat beside them on both sides. Alec handed Magnus his cup while taking the cakes from him.

“Daddy, can I have my cake?” Max immediately requested as he set the cup of cocoa down between his legs.

“Me too!” Rafe chimed in.

“Yes, of course, don’t worry, I just need to get us all settled, and Ayah needed his cocoa as well,” Alec explained as he started to open the box of cakes. The cakes were all individually wrapped in paper, and there was a good amount of napkins on the side of the box. “Which ones did you boys want?”

“Snowflake!” answered Max.

“Ornament!” Rafe exclaimed.

Alec smiled and nodded as he picked up an ornament and a snowflake designed cake and handed them over to the boys carefully. He noticed how the small cake easily fit in Max’s hands.

“Hold on, boys, let me get a picture for the family,” Magnus had his phone out, already lining up the shot of the kids holding their cakes in their sweaters. “Smile.”

Max and Rafe held up their cakes and smiled big for the camera. They had grown up around their Ayah and Tia Izzy, always wanting photos of them, so by now, they knew where to look when someone asked them to take a picture.

“Perfect!” Magnus praised as he quickly snapped a few more for safe measure. “Go ahead and eat now; thank you for waiting, boys.”

“Which one would you like, babe?” Alec asked, holding up the open box for Magnus to choose. The boys were happily eating away their small treats, with warm sips from their cocoa to wash it all down.

“Hmm,” Magnus pretended to be in deep thought as he assessed both of the cakes, “I think I will take the ornament. They used edible glitter on it, and I can’t resist that.”

Alec released a light chuckle at his husband’s reasoning but accepted it either way. He carefully handed the cake over to Magnus and leaned over the boys for a chaste kiss, watchful not to disturb them.

They all settled down on the bench and peacefully ate while they waited for the show to start. From what Alec and Magnus had looked up online that morning, the show would consist of the big tree in the middle coming to light, as a small parade of volunteers came out and performed some Holiday songs.

Alec recalled the morning’s conversation with his husband, smiling.

“Good morning, babe,” Alec kissed up Magnus’ bare shoulder as the light broke through the curtains. “Happy birthday, my love.”

Magnus incoherently mumbled as he started to wake up. He had hoped he would get to sleep in more on his birthday, at least.

“Alexander,” he managed as he pushed back further into his husband’s warm body. “How early is it?”

“It’s already 10 am, love,” Alec informed him as he kept kissing Magnus’ shoulder. “I got the boys breakfast and let you sleep in a bit longer.”

“I knew I married you for a reason,” Magnus praised, smiling into his pillow. “Did you make me breakfast?”

“Of course, I did. I even brought it for you,” Alec stated with an eye roll his husband couldn’t see but could probably hear. “Max and Rafe are currently watching cartoons, so I say we have 25 minutes of safety.”

“Breakfast in bed?” Magnus turned around and sat up while attempting to rub the sleep away from his eyes.

Alec leaned over and claimed Magnus’ lips in a soft morning kiss before placing a tray with french toast and sliced fruit in front of him.

“Oh! I am getting spoiled, I see! French Toast is only for special occasions,” Magnus teased as he picked up his silverware and started to cut his breakfast. He held up a bit for Alec to take. “What did I do to have such a good husband?”

“Nothing, you deserved me just by being you, sometimes I think you deserve more,” Alec admitted, as he took the bite offered, “I wanted to make sure you knew how special you are to me. The boys have presents waiting for you as well, but I wanted some time with you before then.”

“Then it’s a good thing I get to decide what I want as well because I wouldn’t choose anyone but you,” Magnus corrected as he took a bite for himself. He enjoyed the attention he was getting from Alec. It was still something he was growing to become accustomed to; even after all these years, an ever decreasing part of himself still held to the scars of his past. Alec was healing them, though, applying a healthy dose of his love over each one, every chance the Shadowhunter got.

“What do you want to do after presents? I have Jace and Izzy covering for me all day, with strict orders to only call on life or death things,” Alec informed him. “We could go out shopping with the boys if that’s what you want? Anything you want to do today goes.”

Magnus got through his bite and thought of what his husband had offered.

“Are you offering a shopping trick with me, Sayang?”

“If that is what you want to do today, then yes.”

“Anything I want?”

“Name it, and it is yours.”

“I want to do some holiday stuff as a family,” Magnus stated clearly. They had been watching some holiday movies last night, and it got him thinking of how they hadn’t done their annual gingerbread house yet or even purchased a tree. The boys had already written their Wish List, and Magnus had changed the house decorations a bit to be more festive, but past that, they had done nothing.

“Holiday stuff? Like, watch movies?” Alec asked.

“We could, but I was thinking more along the lines of making the gingerbread house and using the sweaters that your mom got us all,” Magnus offered in between some bites of fruit.

“Simon and Clary were going on and on about some sort of mundane light event at the park that was supposed to take place today,” Alec offered. “We could take the boys out to that? Maybe pick them up some hot chocolate along the way? They have been eating their fruits and vegetables, even Max, which is surprising, after he attempted to justify that since we call him blueberry, and blueberries are fruits, it would be wrong to eat them. I swear we shouldn’t let Jace and Simon babysit anymore.”

“I would agree, but I like date night too much to lose your brother and his boyfriend as babysitters,” Magnus reasoned with a smile. “That sounds good, though, we can tell them after presents.”

“Alexander?” Magnus asked, looking at his husband, who seemed to have spaced out a bit.

“Sorry, I just remembered something,” Alec apologized and offered a shy smile to cover up his blush hopefully. “Are you enjoying your birthday, Magnus?”

“I am. Thank you, Sayang,” Magnus easily answered. It was the truth, after all. After their conversation, everything had been like a dream for Magnus, even the frosting accident. He got to make new memories with the boys and spend a whole day with his husband. There was nothing more Magnus could wish for.

#antisocialaf #mywork #hm500 #malec #fanfiction

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gustafsnightangel · 3 years

Text

Shattered Lives Ch 27 Pt 2

He helped her to stand and gazed up at her, drinking in those curves he would erotically destroy later. Standing he and pulled on his sweats. Drawing her robe about her shoulders he kissed her tenderly.

They sat for another cup of tea, talked about the school holidays over Christmas, her own time off, and that they’d be able to spend a decent amount of time together as a family, as a couple.

“You’re still apprehensive about it all? Christmas the new year?” He asked gently.

“Yes, but at least after meeting Bill, and the boys spending time with him this weekend it’s made it a little easier.” She said clearing the table. “They’ll have a face they know. Someone they can stick with while they get to know everyone else.”

“That’s what I was hoping for.” He said gently as he started drying the dishes as she washed them.

“Thank you.” She said quietly. “I don’t say that to you enough.” She added.

His lips found the nape of her neck in a sweet kiss before he continued drying the plate, a quick smile ghosted his lips at the shiver that ran across her body.

“I’ll do whatever I can to ease them into it love, you as well.” He said as he put away the clean dishes.

“I know, but I never want you to think that it’s not appreciated, that it’s taken for granted because it isn’t. I cry sometimes at the sweet things you do for us.” She murmured and pulled the plug, rinsing the sink as it drained, her voice catching. “The way you just know what we need.” He dried her hands and pulled her close. “Just like that.” Her mumble into his chest was followed by a sigh, her body going lax.

“I do it because I want to. It makes me happy when I see you and the kids smile. Relieved at the way your shoulders relax when it’s one less thing for you to worry about.” He kissed her softly. “Together love, you’re not alone anymore.”

She smiled at him, that smile she kept only for him. “Don’t ever change.” She said sweetly.

“Same goes.” He said and pressed her gently against the counter kissing her tenderly.

“We still have a tree to put up too.” She said softly, her finger playing with his scruff.

“When do you usually put it up?”

“After our birthday. My parents always separated our birthday and Christmas seeing as though we’re so close together.” She was apprehensive about it, the fidgeting fingers a dead giveaway, he thought.

“How about we do it on your birthday? I can set up the tree Tuesday while you’re at work and we can decorate it Wednesday?” That way it’s not dragging your grief out over multiple days, he thought silently.

She took a steadying breath. “Sure.” She wasn’t sure, if she had it her way the damn thing wouldn’t go up at all. It was a stark reminder of another year whizzing past, another year without Quinn, another year where her life had fallen to pieces. But she’d do it for the kids because they needed it, they needed normal, and fun, and excitement. They needed a childhood, and she’d fight for it to be as normal as possible even when she felt so bleak and beaten down about it.

“You’re not sure though.” He murmured pulling her closer.

“No, but it’s fine, the kids need it.” She said quickly, the slight shrug telling him it was anything but fine.

“And what do you need love?” He asked quietly, he’d give her anything, do anything to get her through it.

“I don’t know.” Her voice was so soft he almost didn’t hear it. “I don’t know what I need anymore.” It was the truth, she didn’t know.

“My lovely lady.” He murmured and enveloped her with that massive frame. Drawing her into him he felt her hold on tight like she was lost at sea clinging to a life raft. He felt her silent tears fall as he gently tangled his fingers in her hair, playing with it so it soothed, the soft caress of her scalp.

She breathed him in, that comfort of home, of him. “Sometimes I feel like I’m drowning, that I’m failing them.” She said, her voice shaky. “Failing Quinn.” He held her, determined not to push, just giving her safety and space to talk when she was comfortable.

“Giving up would have been failing them.” His fingers brushed the back of her neck as he rested his head against hers. “But you haven’t failed them or your brother. You dropped everything and took on four kids when they needed you. You fight for them, you care for them, you love them. That’s not failing anyone love.”

He gently kissed her brow. “You give so much of yourself without asking for anything in return. You’re not failing them love, you’re raising them, you’re being a parent.”

She needed to hear it, know how important she was to the kids. He could see it eating away at her slowly, the pressure, the stress, the responsibility that was heaped on her plate so suddenly.

“Will you help me?” She asked quietly, that usually steady, confident voice, meek and uncertain.

“Raise them?” He he asked gently. He looked at her, a little shocked but his heart leapt.

She nodded and the silent sob hitched her breath at his reaction. “I can’t do it on my own anymore.” And that was the absolute heart breaking truth, she thought. She couldn’t continue to raise them on her own, be a parent on her own, a year had felt like a decade and the stress was consuming her. She felt as if every day drowned her a little more, between work and the kids, the guilt, the grief, it was sucking out her soul.

He had been right, all the things he’d said to her Tuesday when the car had died. She could and would keep doing it on her own for those kids but she didn’t need to. She had someone she trusted, she loved, and knew he would fight and protect the kids as vehemently as she would. She just had to ask, so she had, even though it tore her up, made her feel so inadequate, she’d asked.

“Look at me.” He whispered and hooked a finger under her chin gently raising her head until her gaze found his. So conflicted, he thought, this went against everything she was yet she’d asked him for help.

“I need help.” The sobs threatened to tear her apart. “I can’t do this on my own.” The desperate plea in her voice slightly panicked.

“I’ll help love.” He said gently. “Hey, I’ll help.” He kissed her tenderly and held her as she wept, his soft murmur over and over soothing her.

“I can’t do this without you.” Her voice was so quiet and emotional his heart broke.

“You and me, together. I’ll help Sildie.” He murmured and held her close. “I’ll help.”

Maybe it was the grief, maybe the events from this week with the car, maybe the argument on Tuesday, she didn’t know. All she knew is that she was fooling herself if she thought she could juggle it all without something giving. It also hammered the point home that if something happened to her, the kids were screwed, they’d have no one. She couldn’t continue along the current path and potentially set them up for more grief, more heartbreak. They didn’t deserve it.

She felt overwhelmed every day when she stepped out of her apartment as if the world was pulling her under. It hit her harder when Gustaf was away. The suddenness of being just the five of them again had highlighted just how much she relied on him for emotional support as well as what he did with the kids to help out.

“They need you too.” She mumbled between soft sobs, and his arms tightened around her.

“I know love. I’ll help.” He soothed.

He could feel the stress uncoil from inside her, the relief knowing she had someone in her corner, someone to lean on. He’d wanted to be that for her for months now, for her to trust him enough to help more than what he’d been doing. It was difficult for her to ask for help when she’d grown up with none, except from her brother. Harder now that he was gone. Maybe his family could be that for her eventually as well, he thought.

“You ok?” He asked gently as she wiped her eyes, the sobs almost spent.

“Sorry.” She sniffed. “I’ve gone and ruined another one of your getaways.” She scoffed at herself harshly.

“No apologies remember? And you haven’t ruined anything. I have you here with me, almost naked, nothing ruined about that.” His smile had hers tugging the corners of her mouth. “Together love, you and me.”

“Thank you. I know this changes everything but...”

“It changes nothing love.” He said honestly. “They’re still your kids and you’re still the boss.”

“I’d like you to be the boss sometimes too.” Her murmur making him smile.

“We’ll talk first though ok?” He smiled and kissed her sweetly. “Together?” And his heart lightened when she nodded and smiled. “I’ll help anyway I can love, however you want.” He kissed her, that deep loving kiss that made her toes curl. “You know, they got extremely lucky when they came to you.” He murmured kissing her again softly. “Extremely lucky.”

“I’m glad someone thinks so.” She sniffed. “Sometimes I wonder if they would have been better off...”

He kissed her, swallowing the rest of her sentence. “Don’t. Don’t do that.” He said sternly, her eyes snapping to his with such grief in them he wanted to swallow his tone, but she needed to hear it. “The the kids are where they need to be and who they need to be with. You.”

She sniffed and nodded. “Sometimes I wonder.”

“You can wonder and I’ll be here to remind you. They’re where they need to be love, with the one woman that would move the world for them.”

“How did we get so lucky?” She asked softly as her fingers trailed his jaw, her hand cupping his face as he closed his eyes and leaned into it. “To find you at our door when our world was falling apart.” Her kiss was soft. “You have such a beautiful soul love.”

“So do you, and I’ll spend every waking moment reminding you how beautiful you are. Inside and out.” His kiss was tender, that sweet love he had an abundance of shining through.

“Would you like some tea?”

“Tea would be good now I’ve blubbered all over you.” She snorted. “Again.”

“I think I blubbered more last night.” He countered and squeezed her.

“We ok?” She asked gently.

“I think we’re better now than when we walked in here yesterday.” He smiled. “More than ok love.”

Her nod and smile set him at ease as he released her to start making tea. She walked to the bathroom and shut the door quietly breathing out. Lighter was all she could feel, he’d lifted that pressing weight clean off, much like he’d done for Brendan.

He felt her arms wrap around him, her forehead rest between his shoulder blades, her usual position when she needed to ground herself. “You ok love?” He asked in that low tone he knew calmed her.

She didn’t answer, just nodded her head quickly. Not all the way yet, he thought, but she would be. He let it be for the moment while he made tea, her body moving with his as she stayed where she was.

She felt like a fool for being so desperate for help. It never sat well with her burdening others with her personal shit and the last thing she wanted for to make him feel as if she was taking advantage of him. She breathed him in, that familiar scent calming her.

“Thank you.” She said softly, breathing out the remaining stress.

“Anytime love.” He murmured, placing a hand over hers and squeezing. “Go sit on the window seat in the bedroom I’ll bring this in.” He said turning in her arms to kiss her temple.

He stoked the fire in the living room and put on some soft jazz. After tending to the fire in the bedroom he placed the tea on the window seat before snuggling in behind her. She sat hair brush in hand, teasing the tangled mess from the ends of her hair. Her gaze out the window not focused on anything in particular, lost in thought.

Pulling her closer he took the brush from her and kissed her cheek at the shocked response as she turned to look at him quite perplexed.

“What?” He asked, that grin she loved spreading across his face.

“Nothing.” She said, snapping her mouth shut and shaking her head. She wouldn’t deny him anything that made him happy, to see that joy burst from him as it did just now. She’d give everything she was to see that happiness more often, carefree and comfortable.

He kissed her neck, the seductive touch making her shiver. She couldn’t stop the soft moan as he brushed her hair with such tenderness she melted. Her pussy clenched as his fingers caressed her neck sending little shocks through her system. As he continued to drag the brush through her hair the occasional kiss made goose flesh prickle her skin.

It felt like silk as he brushed it and let it fall through his fingers to savor it. She leaned into every stroke of brush and fingers, the sensual touch that promised so much. Not just of sex, but the care and kindness that he gave to her without question, without reservation.

She relaxed back against his chest when he stopped, a kiss to her head, his arms wrapping around her. He breathed her in, her scent wrapping around him. The kiss to the pulse on her neck had her moaning loudly.

“I can’t function when you kiss me there.” She sighed as he sucked gently.

“I know, but you don’t need to function.” He smiled and kissed her again in the same spot. “Drink your tea.” He chuckled.

The snow had stopped, the storm cleared, and the blanket of stars sparkled overhead. They sipped tea in a tangle of limbs, fingers lazily arousing, lips stealing the occasional kiss.

“That’s something I haven’t seen in a while.” Gustaf said gazing out the window.

“What’s that?”

“Northern lights.” He said and pointed out toward the frozen lake. She rested her head against his chest and looked at where the streaks of green and purple faintly painted the sky.

“I’d forgotten how beautiful they are.” She said wistfully, thoughts of her brother flittering into her mind. His arms tightened around her as he felt the grief suddenly surge forward.

“You used to watch them together.” He stated more than asked and her slight nod confirmed it.

“Before Mum and dad passed we would go camping in the woods in a tiny cabin, but not as fancy as this one. We’d sneak out in the freezing cold and snow...” She smiled chuckling at the memory and how stupid they had been. “...and sit there huddled together shivering our asses off watching the lights dance across the sky.”

He kissed her head softly. “That sounds like something me and my brothers would do.” He murmured into her hair.

“I miss him.” She said simply. There were no tears, just a statement that needed to be voiced.

“I know you do love.” He said gently and kissed her temple. He would deal with the grief if it came. The fact she was talking about him freely without bursting into tears was progress, even if he could feel her body brace for the emotion that no doubt welled up within her.

They sat in a tangle of limbs, nestled together watching the night sky dance. With her head cradled against his massive chest, his arm supporting her spine she looked up at him, that handsome face lost in thought. “Gustaf?”

“Mmm.” His reply was half in this world half in another.

“Would you come and dance with me naked under the stars?” She asked softly and kissed him sensually as his brain came back from wherever it had drifted off to.

He helped her to stand, the smooth jazz drifting into the room. They undressed each other, unhurried, soothing, arousing.There was so much tenderness between them tonight, a quenching balm for both their ragged souls.

“Romancing me?” He smiled as he took her hand.

“Trying.” Her smile was shy as he swept her up in his arms and spun her around pressed tightly against him. She wasn’t very good with the whole romance thing but she was trying so hard for him.

“It’s working.” He whispered and gave her a peck on the cheek.

“Good to know.” She breathed him in, his scent soothing all her anxiety and grief away.

He calmed his mind as they swayed. Let her scent soothe him, his arms wrapped around the woman he loved. With a slower song crooning in the back ground, the fire dancing with them in the hearth, he breathed out.

“I love you, Sildie.” He murmured as they swayed cheek to cheek. He held his breath as she lifted her head to look at him, his heart hammering in his chest as those glacial blue pools gazed into his soul. This was it, do or die trying, because the rejection, if it came, would destroy him. He kissed her fingers tenderly. “With everything that I am, everything that I have.” His voice choked with emotion. “I’m in love with you.” His eyes searched hers. “You’re it for me.”

That smile faltered as her fingers caressed his cheek and he knew he’d blown it. The look of surprise turning to that soft smile that was unreadable, he felt the rejection was imminent.

“I’m sorry.” He said choking down a sob that wanted to tear him apart. “It was to soon, I’m sorry.” You fucking idiot, he cursed. You pushed her too far after an emotionally taxing week and the beginning of another brutal one in the week to follow, how fucking stupid are you, he raged mentally? “I’m sorry, I...” Flustered he started to pull away from her thinking he’d completely blown it, but she held him to her firmly.

Her kiss was tender, that deep love she had for him welling up and consuming them both, the tears streaking down her cheeks.

“Sweet man, I know you do.” She said softly, her hand cupping his cheek, her thumb caressing his crows feet as his eyes closed and he quietly sighed with overwhelming relief. “I feel it everyday.” She said quietly as his eyes found hers intently. “It comes from in here.” Her hand drifted to rest over his heart. “It’s not just with words it’s every action, every kiss, every smile. Every time you look at me.” Her hand toyed with his scruff as those Nordic blue eyes sparkled, the love for her in them shining brightly. “Just like that.” She smiled, the one she only kept for him and it teased the slightest smile from his lips. “Like I’m the only woman in the world.”

“You are for me.” His voice was calmer as he rested his forehead against hers. He relaxed his shoulders, easing the tension from them carefully, slowly. “You’re the only woman I want.” He breathed and kissed her sweetly with that undercurrent of deep soul healing love.

“I feel it every second of everyday.” She watched him, she’d seen the flash of fear in him, those thoughts of rejection flood into that broken soul. “Would you say it again?” She asked gently, wanting nothing more than to hear it tumble from his lips again.

“I love you.” He breathed, without hesitation, without restriction, his eyes not leaving hers.

“I love you too.” She murmured, the remaining anxiety melting off him. “You are my everything Gustaf.” She said gently, her voice shaking with emotion. “And you’re it for me too.” It was the truth, if she lost him it would destroy her, the kids, everything. “You’re the only one I want.”

His hand cupped her behind the neck and his mouth crashed against hers kissing her hard. Relief and love poured out of him, his own eyes shimmering with tears. “I’ve wanted to say that to you for a long time.” He breathed. “Since the day in the snow with the kids.” His fingers toyed with the wave of hair at her ear before tangling his fingers in it kissing her again. So that’s what had set him off, she thought, oh sweet man you are such a kind loving soul.

“We weren’t ready then love.” She smiled gently, her fingers brushing his scruff.

“No, we weren’t.” He rested his forehead against hers and swayed with her. “I was worried we might not be ready for it now either.” He said wryly with a chuckle.

He danced with her, cheek against cheek, the soft jazz soothing them both. “I’m so in love with you Sildie.” His words wound their way around her heart as he kissed her, losing herself to him.

She felt the love uncoil from its slumber within the depths of his soul. He was so tender, so giving, every touch, every kiss echoing his words. He loved her, he wanted her, he needed her, and with those three little words he’d given every piece of himself to her. How did she deserve such a beautiful soul like him, she wondered?

“I’ve been in love with you since our first tea date.” He whispered and kissed her temple as fingers drew lazy patterns on the strip of skin that peeked out from the collar of her robe. “You were still all lawyered up.” He growled. “All flustered when you get nervous. Looking as beautiful as ever.” His eyes searched hers before he kissed her tenderly. “And as I stood there on your threshold every night after that, I realized I wanted you, to be yours. To be with you, the kids, as a family, I want all of it with you.”

She let him talk knowing he needed to process it and the scars that Ana had left behind, he was still a little gunshy. Her thumb brushed the deep laugh lines at his eyes, she was so in love with him too. Her kiss was gentle, that unbound love she freely gave him, the one that calmed his soul. “And I’m rambling.” He scoffed and the chuckle that leaked out was one of relief and joy. “Sorry.”

“You’re healing and I think the no apology clause for this weekend stretches to cover you as well.” She kissed him again, moaning as he deepened it. “You’re enough for me. You’ve always been enough for me.” Her kiss left him breathless and she smiled when he looked at her a little dumbstruck. “I love you Gustaf. I just want you. It’s always been you.”

They danced and swayed, the odd stolen kiss giving way to an arousing touch. He’d show her that love, the tenderness, the pleasure. Standing on the rug in front of the fire they let the music and the moment lead them.

He watched the firelight flicker across her body as tender fingers caressed her shoulders. His goddess burning brightly, her halo of molten copper aflame. He sank to his knees, kissing every inch of her as he lowered himself.

He pressed his face to her belly and breathed her in, his hands stroking up the backs of her thighs to rest at the swell of her ass. Kissing her he groaned softly as her hand caressed his scalp and rested against his face. Looking up he nuzzled her hand, that soft smile tugging her lips, her eyes full of love and a good measure of lust.

He stayed on his knees and worshipped his goddess, the sensual kisses to those curves he adored, the tender touch as his finger aroused her, the taste of her as his tongue slipped over her heat. He sat and stretched his legs out in front of him. Gently tugging her hand she lowered to straddle him, his hands guiding her body to nestle against his, she’d always been a perfect fit. Looking at those eyes he adored he kissed her, that slow burn causing her to moan. With a hand on each ass cheek he pulled her to him, both gasping at the contact. A hand supported her lower back as he nudged her to lean back into it, kissing a path down her throat.

Those hands stoked the fire within her, the embers roaring to life. She gave herself over to him as a hand cupped her breast, teeth and tongue gently teasing a nipple to a hard peak. As he devoured each breast in turn he rocked his hips, his manhood sliding between her folds, hot and wet.

He feasted, the soft moans as he aroused her urging him to take more. Reaching between their bodies he circled her clit before resting his engorged cock at her entrance. With a gentle thrust he pulled her onto him slowly, savoring her soft cry. He sucked on the pulse at her throat, relishing in the feel of her as her body trembled for him.

There was no rush as he kissed her, touched her, the intimacy between the more important than the act itself.

“I love you Sildie.” He murmured, that low timbre making her tremble. “My Sildie.” He sighed. “My goddess.” His tenderness overwhelmed her, the man had given her his heart and soul. It was hers to keep, to cherish, to protect.

He slowly built her climax, each tender kiss, seductive touch, pushing her further and further to the edge. She rocked against him their rhythm slow and erotic as he felt the familiar flutter from deep within her.

“Gustaf.” Her cry was one of warning and desperation.

He kept the same devastating pace and watched her body tense before it writhed against him as she came, those slender fingers grasping at his neck and shoulder. She pulled herself upright as her next peaked quickly, wanting to feel the friction of his body move against hers.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him hard not able to put into words the euphoria she was feeling.

“Go over love, don’t hold it back.” He murmured and held her hips tighter to him.

“Gustaf.” She gasped as he ground against her clit, fireworks going off in her brain at the contact. She couldn’t stop it, let alone hold it back, even if she wanted to. Her kiss was fierce as she came, the cry of ecstasy into his mouth as he held her to him. Her pussy gripped him tight and the groan made her smile against his lips.

“Come with me.” She whimpered as they took each other, both riding that edge together. He devoured her mouth as she came again, swallowing her cry, his own groan escaping as her pussy clenched him breaking his last thread of control. He came hard, filling her with his seed, the throb of his cock pulsing inside her. Riding them down from the high he kissed her tenderly, his huge hands cupping her face, holding her to him to savor every last kiss. She rested her head on his shoulder while they forced oxygen back into their lungs.

Sitting wrapped in each other, the jazz drifted around the cabin as the fire lazily danced in the hearth. She looked out the window to see the stars twinkling through the soft colors of the northern lights. “I’m so in love with you.” She said softly. His kiss to her forehead lingered and she felt his smile.

“I love you too.” His grin wide.

“I could stay right here forever.” She sighed. She was all warm and soft and comfortable, contentment. Those strong arms wrapped around her, it was another layer that helped her relax, security and protection.

“I’m in no hurry to go anywhere.” He murmured, kissing her temple. This incredible woman naked in his lap, loved him, he felt like a new man.

She giggled as he leaned back and they went crashing to the floor. Fully stretched out in front of the fire, naked, with his goddess curled up on his chest still straddling him, he felt more relaxed and at ease than he had in years. She hummed as his fingers lightly trailed her spine and over her back in unhurried patterns.

“You keep doing that and I’m going to fall asleep.” She mumbled, already drifting after the heat of the fire and the sex. Her whine when he stopped made him chuckle.

“My ass will fall asleep if we stay here too much longer. The rug feels great, the hard floor not so much.” He sat, with more difficulty because gravity and a woman in his arms. “Hop into bed love.” He murmured.

He steadied her as she stood, her legs stiff from the position. She’d had every intention of rocking his world tonight but that would have to wait because sleep was almost upon her. She came back from the bathroom and snuggled into bed, the night sky with its painted streaks and glittering stars soothing her. Drifting she felt the mattress sag and that familiar body press against her.

“Gustaf?” She slurred.

“I’m here love.” His arms cocooned her in, his soothing touch helping sleep pull her under.

“I love you.” Her mumble was barely coherent before she fell and fell hard.

“I love you too. Sleep now.” He kissed her neck and breathed her in, he was emotionally exhausted, but it was worth it. Everything about this weekend had been worth it.

His thoughts drifted. Their entire relationship had shifted with her reaching out for help, for support, for him. It had evolved into something much deeper. He smiled to himself, she was an enigma, a woman so independent, career driven, and stubborn, yet so soft and loving. He looked at her sleeping form cradled in his arms and smiled, so beautiful and she loved him.

With a head full of happy thoughts he watched the night sky and drifted, sleep claimed him soon after, the two of them spooned together.

****************

@hausofobsession @ill-skillsgard @grandpa-sweaters @authentic90skidd @tuckersgirl @fairlyfallacy @flowers-in-your-hayr @raewritesfiction @stinkerbelle007 @kamie-b @mrsaugustwalker @skrsgardspam @loliwrites @trippedmetaldetector

#shattered lives #gustaf skarsgard fanfiction

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yeaahishowedupatyourparty · 3 years

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ADDY’S 50 QUESTIONS WITH SPOTLIGHT.

THINGS YOU’RE NEVER ASKED

which song went to number 1 on your birthday? (find out here) “U Remind Me by Usher! I actually know that one and it’s a little bit of a bop. I’m not gonna lie.”

if you could turn any scent into a candle, what would it be? “Some of you are going to find me weird but listen, inflatables!”

which element best suits you: fire, earth, water or air? “I think air!”

what’s the worst grade you’ve ever got on a test? “I’ve failed a ton of times, honestly.”

what’s the best grade you’ve ever got on a test? “Like, a C.”

how many countries have you travelled to? “Quite a few! We’ve been on a lot of family holidays and I’ve travelled with my parents for work things too. I’m very lucky.”

who is your favourite disney character? “Oh my god, Rapunzel. I love Rapunzel.”

what is one thing people believe that you don’t? “Oooh, I’m not sure. Maybe that platonic friendships between boys and girls can’t exist.”

do you usually drink enough water in a day? “Oh my god, no and my Mum is always getting at me for it. I need to do it more but I love milkshakes and juice too much.”

what’s your middle name? “I’m not telling you!”

PARENTS

do you know both of your parents? “I do know both of my parents!”

are they together? “They are. They’ve been together for ages!”

are you adopted? “Nope!”

what’s your favourite memory with your parent(s)? “There are so, so many. I think my favourite memories are the simple things, though. Like, for example, sometimes my grandma used to have to pick me up from school when my parents were busy but they’d never tell me if it was going to be Dad and I’d be so, so excited and we’d drive around for a bit before going home. Also, holidays! With Daphne too, obviously. All of the little things; painting, bed time stories, going on walks, buying pets, zoos, everything!”

what did your parent(s) study when they were at the academy? “They’re both actors! Mum did some directing too.”

which project of your parent(s) is your favourite? “Euphoria and Little Women. I also love The King and Princesses - there’re so many honestly.”

which parent is the strictest? “Mum...Daphne might have a different answer but I feel like she’s the one who plays bad cop. Although, Dad stresses out more but he’s never full on angry. Mum has a temper...Love her though.”

which parent do you look most like physically? “Mum, definitely! But Google me with brown hair and you do start to see my Dad more too. I think I just have Mum’s facial structure more, and the eyes...Daphne has Dad’s face structure but like a little glimpses of Mum, so it’s a nice balance.”

which parent do you behave the most like? “Dad, for sure. I think we’re both romantics and quite emotional, and sensitive. But also, my Dad’s really smart and he’s literally the first person I’ll go to if I have a question about something - so maybe not! I don’t know. I hope I’m like him, as long as I make both of them proud, honestly.”

are you close? “I’m so close to them both. My mum is really protective and always straight talking. If she doesn’t like someone we’re around or something we’re doing, she’ll tell us, even if we’re upset at the time it always ends up for the best. I think she was a lot softer and more naive when she was my age, so she knows exactly how to deal with like - typical problems, you know? and then there’s my Dad. Obviously I love my parents equally, but I feel like ever since I was tiny he’s just understood me and he’s always been there. People find it sad when they say parents are their best friends but he genuinely is mine. He’s the one guy that hasn’t ever let me down, and I know he never will. So long story short, yes! We’re all close.”

THIS OR THAT

the titanic or the notebook? “The Notebook because it has a better soundtrack!”

dc or marvel? “Marvel.”

disney or pixar? “Disney!”

pink or green? “Pink, duh?”

summer or winter? “It would be summer all of the way, but winter has Christmas so it automatically wins. I love Christmas.”

spring or autumn? “Spring! It’s underrated and beautiful, no matter what the weather is.”

dogs or cats? “Both!”

rom-coms or horrors/thrillers? “Rom-coms, definitely. Especially Bridesmaids.”

nights in or nights out? “Nights in, I think.”

early riser or night owl? “Early riser! I’d say night owl but I’ve never stayed awake past 10pm.”

GETTING PERSONAL

what age did you have your first kiss? “Fourteen!”

have you lost your virginity? how old were you? “Fourteen.”

what’s your biggest regret? “I’ve done some really stupid things because guys have told me it’d be a good idea.”

which song most reflects your life so far? “Show Yourself from Frozen 2, I cry everytime.”

what’s your biggest fear in life? “Losing my parents. It’s going to happen one day but no.”

do you want to get married? “I do..It’s not a popular answer, but I want the fairytale.”

do you want children? “I don’t know yet.”

what is a cause you feel strongly about? “Anti-bullying, there’s no need. I think we underestimate the impact your words can have on people who are 13, 14, 15, 16 and growing into themselves. Teenagers need to be shown how to be nicer. It can ruin someone’s young adulthood completely.”

what’s your sexuality? “I don’t know! Not straight, that’s all I know.”

when in life did you feel the loneliest? “High school. It was a lot of, smiling when I was there, crying after school in my bedroom and then hanging out with my parents when I was conveniently left out of plans with my friends.”

10 TRUTHS

have you ever skinny-dipped? “Why is it called skinny dipped? But no!”

ever had inappropriate thoughts about somebody you shouldn’t? “...I’m not sure.”

what’s the worst thing you’ve said behind somebody’s back? “I called somebody a loser once.”

have you ever sent a sexual text? “Guilty. Sorry.”

is there anything you dislike for no apparent reason? “Piglet! From Winnie the Pooh! Why the hell is it so dramatic?”

what’s the most recent lie you’ve ever told? “I told the lady down in the hotel that we didn’t have any new towels so that I could have the fresh, warm ones. I know. I’m a sinner.”

can you put your hand on your heart and say you’ve never complimented a project you didn’t really like? “That’s so mean, plus I haven’t seen a project I dislike yet.”

the best advice you’ve ever been given? “Every conversation with my parents and sister, honestly. I’m extremely lucky?”

a quote you try to live by? “That one about wearing pink and being smart, by Audrey Hepburn.”

where do you want to be in ten years? “Ooh, that’s such a long time away. Being creative and free still, not too far from home.”

#itsaddy #stjudesprojects #in which addy talks about how much she loves her dad for 50 questions

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looking-for-another-world · 4 years

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Not Alone

summary: Bucky spends Christmas alone at the compound. Or nah?

pairing: Bucky x reader

warnings: 18+, tiny bit of angst, mentions of family toxicity, cursing, explicit smut, dirty talk, like one allusion to reader being plus-sized, soft!bucky, really sappy - you have been warned

words: 6321

a/n: This is my entry for @honeyhan-123‘s HOLIDAY SPIRIT WRITING CHALLENGE. I had the prompt “Finding the perfect Christmas tree / decorating it” and looking back, I might have slightly diverted from that oops. This was so much fun to do though. This is literally my first finished piece of writing in years, so be nice to me, ok? Right, tmi. Anyways, this has gotten way out of hand in terms of how many words I wanted to write. I might make 3 separate files of it when I’m in the mood to figure out links, but for now here’s the entire fic in one. Enjoy! Also, I hope your 2020 is going to be amazing ❤💫🥂🎆

Prologue

As soon as Bucky stepped into the kitchen of the Avengers compound, his super soldier senses made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Something’s wrong.

It was Dec 23, one day before Christmas Eve, and everyone except him had gone away for the holidays. Clint was visiting Laura and the kids, accompanied by Natasha (apparently, the boys had been nagging their mom for a solid 2 months whether Aunt Tasha would be staying with them), Wanda and Vision were traveling around Europe, Tony had taken Pepper to some little island in the Caribbean Sea, and Steve and Sam had booked a cozy, remote cabin in the woods to go skiing, hiking, getting drunk (well, Sam at least) and most importantly, getting away from being the Avengers for a few days.

Initially, Steve had Friday book the trip for three persons, but Bucky had refused. This was the first Christmas since many years that he was starting to remember who he was, really was, and although Steve was pretty much everything he considered home, he had preferred to spend Christmas where he actually came from.

In the end, Steve had reluctantly agreed, not wanting to push his best friend, but insisting that they at least spoke to one another on the phone every day. And so, Bucky had spent his day wandering the streets of Brooklyn for hours, fulfilling his best friend duty on his way home and telling Steve how much everything had changed and yet, strangely, still felt familiar. He could hear Steve smile through the phone; he felt the same. That’s when Sam had burst through the door of the hut, screeching “All I want for Christmas is you” next to Steve’s ear and ruining the moment. Steve had said his goodbye, leaving to stop Wilson from inhaling another bottle of Eggnog, and Bucky had wished him good luck with the bird brain. He returned to the compound, more mentally than physically exhausted, and headed straight to the kitchen, suddenly remembering that he hadn’t eaten something in hours. And there it was: A small puddle of water on top of the counter, as if someone had taken something out of the fridge and put it there for a moment. Only that there was no one to do that. He was supposed to be alone.

It couldn’t have been him: his soldier and assassin training had left him with an urge to leave everything neat and tidied; no traces. Silently, he made his way back into the hallway, calling the elevator and going two levels down, to the first level that was officially “Avengers territory”. Going back up, he searched every floor without coming across anything suspicious. And then, as the doors of the elevator opened to the 18th floor with a slight swoosh, he sensed it: There’s someone else on this level. He tensed up. His super soldier hearing going into overdrive, he snuck along the dimly-lit corridor until he heard them: sounds coming from the last room to the left, the entertainment room, stacked up with books, movies, consoles, a pool table, anything you could think of to pass your free time. He tried to hear more intently. The person on the other side of the door barely produced sounds; all he could make out was their shallow breathing. Someone with a normal hearing wouldn’t even have caught up on it.

Bucky conjured up a blueprint of the room: even if he could get through the door unnoticed, there was no place to hide. The whole design of the room practically screamed: “Look who’s coming!” His only advantage was the element of surprise. Trying to calm down his nerves, he took a few deep breaths and braced himself. Not wanting to have his arms in a position he could easily be taken hold of in, he stepped back, raised his right leg and kicked the door down, storming inside, met by a piercing scream and a loud splash as the bucket of ice cream you had been holding met the ground.

“(Y/N)?!”

“What the hell?!”

“Why are you here?”

“I fucking live here in case you haven’t noticed! Why are you kicking the goddamn door down like I’m some HYDRA agent trying to slit your throat?”

“Because-”, Bucky stops, guilt washing over him. Guilt and anger with himself. Even HYDRA wouldn’t be so dumb as to blow their cover like that, and they’d do a bit more than get the kitchen counter dirty if they wanted to make their presence known. “Because I thought you were one.” His voice is low now, almost a whisper, his eyes unable to meet yours, fingers fumbling with the hem of the coat he didn’t have time to take off. And seeing him like this, you understood: He thought someone had intruded.

You let out the breath you were holding. “I’m sorry, Buck. I wasn’t thinking. I should have let you know about my change of plans and that I’d be spending Christmas at the compound.”

His ears perked up at that. “You are? I thought you were going to visit your family.” You smiled sadly and now that his mind and body weren’t overtaken by adrenaline anymore, he took in your state for the first time. You looked pale, your eyes red-rimmed, like you had been crying. You were wrapped in the navy-blue blanket twice your size that Wanda had given you for your birthday. It went all the way down to your ankles where the legs of your sweatpants were peeping through, showing just a small stripe of skin before the fabric of a pair of green fuzzy socks covered your skin again. The ice cream you had dropped started melting on the ground, slowly dampening part of the expensive rug the pool table stood on, which you didn’t seem to notice. “What happened?”

You let out a mixture between a snort and an unconvincing laugh. “I talked to my mom on the way to the airport. She started complaining about how much I’ve been letting them down this year, bringing up things I didn’t even think were an issue anymore, and how she hoped I would pull myself together this time, for the sake of Christmas and our family. So, I figured I’d probably have a more fun time being alone in my room and sleeping for like 2 weeks than I’d have being with them.” The last part was meant to sound casually, but Bucky didn’t miss the twitch of your lips and how your eyes started to gloss over again. He wanted to say something to comfort you, but his mind didn’t know where to start and so he just kept staring at you wordlessly, which you took as a sign of annoyance.

“Don’t worry. I won’t bother you with that shitty Christmas music or candy or anything of that kind. I’m not gonna ruin your alone time. Just pretend I’m not here.”

He frowned at that, then, and as his tongue still seemed to be tied, he did the only thing he felt was appropriate: He put your arms around you and hugged you, hard, all-consuming. “I’m not worried you’re going to ruin my alone time. I like having you around. I’m sorry your family are like that, when they’re the ones letting you down.”

You’d liked to reply to that, thank him for his sweet words, but you were sure you’d start crying again the second you stopped biting down on your lip. So you reciprocated the hug as best as you could; after all you were lacking Bucky’s strength. Bucky squeezed you shortly and let go, and when your eyes locked again, you couldn’t help but mirror his warm smile. Jesus, this guy certainly made you feel things. No surprise you were crushing on him so hard.

“We’d better clean this up”, Bucky said gesturing to the now empty ice bucket head and your eyes widened as you noticed the mess you’d made. “Shit!”. Tony had spent an insane amount of money on that carpet, even for his proportions. He’d shoot you to the moon for that.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.” Bucky jogged back to the elevator, returning a minute later with a wet cloth and a roll of kitchen towels which he handed to you. Getting to work, you suddenly became aware of how much closer than usually you two were. You could smell Bucky’s aftershave – something resembling cedarwood – watch the muscles in his arms flex as he tried to rid the fabric of its B&J make-over, study the stubble on his perfectly sculpted jaw, his hazelnut locks, his plump lips. Oh god, his lips. Just thinking about having those lips kiss every inch of your body got you worked up. Get a grip, for fuck’s sake!

“So you’re really planning on skipping Christmas? It’s your favorite holiday”, Bucky interrupted your thoughts, shooting you a glance to see you shrug your shoulders. “I don’t want to see my parents right now, and I can’t imagine celebrating Christmas on my own. So yeah, guess I’ll be taking a break from it this year.”

“You’re not on your own, though. You’re with me. We can celebrate.”

You felt a pleasantly warm sensation in your stomach which you tried to ignore, quirking an eyebrow at him instead. “You hate Christmas.”

“I don’t hate all of it, I hate what it’s become. I hate that most people care more about what useless shit is in their stockings or under the tree than about who they’re spending their time with. I hate how every shop starts putting up Christmas stuff before it’s even October. They don’t even call it “Christmas” anymore. I mean seriously, xmas? What’s that even supposed to mean?”

Despite yourself, a small giggle escaped you at how upset he could get about it all and realizing he had started ranting without wanting to, Bucky had to stifle a laugh as well. "Point I’m trying to make is ” he concluded “I wouldn’t mind spending Christmas with the right company.”

Oh, and that’s supposed to be me? Right company?“, you shot back. "Sure thing, doll. You’re like an expert on Christmas, I can’t go wrong with you. Also, I like having you around. ” He furrowed his eyebrows. “I’ve already said that, haven’t I?”

“Yeah, you have. But that’s okay, I like hearing it”, you laughed, your hand briefly touching his arm. You were becoming kind of needy, it appeared. Bucky didn’t seem to mind though, or at least he didn’t let it show.

Looking down, you noticed with an internal sigh of relief that the ice cream puddle had given way to the water and the kitchen towels. All that was left was a wet patch that would hopefully disappear overnight.

“Guess that’s as good as it gets”, you joked. “Thanks for helping me.”

“It’s the least I could do, after scaring the shit out of you.” He took the dirty towels from you. “Guess we’re Christmas buddies then” he grinned. It was surprising how excited he seemed to be all of a sudden, but you didn’t let yourself linger on that thought. “Well, as the official Christmas ambassador, I have to let you know that this place sucks. There’s not even decorations.”

That was true. The past weeks had been incredibly hectic, even more than in previous years, and since almost everyone would be gone over the holiday season anyway and Bucky had emphasized several times that having the tower turn into Santa’s village would most likely lift his dinner, rather than his spirits, Tony hadn’t bothered to put up decorations.

Bucky gave you an amused look. “I see you’re getting into it. Alright, what do we need?”

“You mean, like everything?”

“Yeah, like the ideal setting. Can’t be that difficult.”

You gave him a sceptical look. “Oh no, not at all. We just need the decorations, music, candy, ugly Christmas sweaters, stuff to bake cookies, a firepla-”

“Okay, okay, I take it back.” Bucky raised his hands in surrender. “This is too much. What’s the most important thing?”

“The tree”, you replied without thinking. “The tree is the most important, to me at least. When my dad used to tell me he’d be bringing the Christmas tree home tonight, I’d spend all day glued to the window of my room, waiting for his car to steer into the driveway. It’s the one thing we ever did as a family, all three of us, decorating the tree. Everything else would be pretty much Mum and me, since Dad would be out working. The tree is … it just wouldn’t feel like Christmas without it.”

Inadvertedly, your brain had walked down memory lane to pictures of baubles in gold and red and purple and every color of the rainbow, mingled with the scent of fir and your dad’s bass voice singing “Have yourself a merry little Christmas” to you while you were sitting on your lap, and suddenly another wave of sadness hit you and you had to fight back the tears that were starting to well up again. You swallowed thickly before looking back at Bucky and were met with an understanding look. He had noticed your struggle but chose not to bring it up again and you were grateful for that. Grateful for him.

There were a few beats of silence before the super soldier offered you a tentative smile and said: “So Christmas tree is your final answer?” Another giggle.

"That’s my final answer.”

Part 1

You woke up to a sky the color of granite. Gloomy light and heavy clouds. Your heart jumped a little in your chest at the prospect of another downfall of snow. What’s Christmas without snow, right? Too comfortable to get up right away, you snuggled back into your pillow and let your mind wander.

It was embarrassing, really, but thinking about spending the whole day with Bucky filled you with a mix of anticipation and nervousness you usually felt before first dates. Prior to your job interview last February, you had spent hours and hours hooked up on research about the people you might soon be working with – the fucking Avengers! -, but Bucky’s story, or at least what was known of it to the public, had fascinated and moved you the most. It was hard for you to wrap your head around how someone could endure the most appalling things you could possibly imagine, and that for decades. Someone like the ex-Winter Soldier could barely be human anymore, filled to the brink with hatred and disgust for the world and the people in it, that you were sure of. And then, when you got the job and got to know him – he was the exact opposite. Sure, he was careful and hard to read, especially at the beginning, but he was kind. He was funny. He was emphatic. He was a nerd. He was sweet. And when you moved in to the tower and the two of you spent more time together, your feelings towards him grew stronger, and you found yourself imagining waking up next to him, his lips on yours the first thing you taste in the morning. Cupping his cheek and watching his eyes crinkle when he flashes you his million-dollar smile. Stroking his hair while he reads his favorite passages out to you or rambles about how all the things he’s just discovering now are not quite as good as what they had back in the days, but some of them are not bad. Being pressed down by his weight as you get to explore all of his gorgeous body and find out what sounds he makes when he’s buried in you, filling you up, making you feel so good as you’re begging him not to stop because he’s hitting just the right spot and you never want to let go of him, so good, please Bucky, please don’t stop, oh God, I’m so close baby, fuck…

The loud buzzing of your phone jerked you out of your trance and made you sit up straight in your bed, your heartbeat thumping in your ears, cheeks heated, fingers you didn’t even remember putting there coated in your arousal. Breathing heavily, you stretched your neck to see who the caller was: Mum. Oh, hell no. In a sudden burst of resurging anger, you declined the call, threw your phone away from you and let yourself fall back against the headboard with an audible huff.

Finishing the job wasn’t going to happen after yesterday’s events started rolling in, so you forced yourself out of bed and into the shower, washing away the heat of your little daydream with water as cold as you could bear. Putting moisturizer on, you focused your thoughts on today. If Bucky still wanted to help setting up everything for Christmas, they should get started as soon as possible. An actual Christmas tree was a bit too much to ask obviously, but maybe they could find a fake one and some funny tree ornaments to go along with it? Sweaters shouldn’t be that much of a problem either, they practically threw them in your face around this time of the year. And the Christmas music could easily be taken care of by Spotify.

You started listing the essential ingredients for three or four kinds of Christmas cookies in your head when you left your room to get breakfast. Closing the fridge door, you tried to decide where and in which order to go to get everything you needed on time (or should you split up?) when you noticed the yellow, blue, pink and green dots on the cold metal surface, dancing around in a carefully studied rhythm like colorful fireflies. Frowning, you turned around.

The huge panorama windows were decorated with beautifully woven ice flowers up to almost half of their height and framed by several strings of Christmas lights, cheerfully blinking against the grey sky outside and bathing the living room area in a colorful hue. Now that you stepped closer, the living room looked different as well. The couches and armchairs were covered under thick and fluffy-looking plaids and pillows with different Christmas-themed motives; a very kind looking Santa Claus on one, a couple of reindeer holding cups of Eggnog and singing “Jingle Bells” on another and the slogan “Tis the season” in as much glitter as could be fitted on so small a space emblazoned on a third. There were decorations, too: a nutcracker next to the tv, an angel’s choir holding candles on one of the couch tables, a snowman, a sledge, a rocking horse, a squirrel in a scarf… You couldn’t even decide where to look first. Too preoccupied to take everything in, you didn’t notice Bucky’s presence until he cleared his throat. “Do you like it?” You turned around to meet him, dumbfounded and still trying to understand what was going on, even more so when you saw the sweater he was wearing: fir green and depicting a penguin wearing a Christmas hat. You let out an incredulous laugh. “Did- did you do all this?”

Bucky lowered his gaze briefly and gave you a sheepish smile. “Pretty much, yeah. I’d hoped you’d sleep in. Gave me enough time to set everything up.” Your mouth opened and closed, unable to find words. “I-“ “Wait!” he interrupted. “There’s more.” He outstretched a slightly shaking hand and seeing that you didn’t respond, hastily withdrew it. Finally though, your body and mind seemed to have rebooted, and you grabbed his hand with both of yours. It felt hot against yours, hot and slightly raw. Bucky shot a surprised look from your intertwined hands to your face and you could’ve sworn that his cheeks blushed slightly. Is this even real?

Squeezing your hands slightly, he walked past you and into the living room, pulling you with him. Around the corner, out of your line of sight, there was a slightly smaller lounging area with the best stereo sound system Tony could get his hands on and without tv, designed for the numerous occasions you fancied actually spending time with each other and being able to face each other when chatting or playing games instead of just staring at a huge screen in unison. Now though, the bean bags had been moved to the side and in the center of the room stood – a tree. Not just any tree, but a fir tree about 10 or 11 feet high, almost filling up the room with its size and emanating that unmistakable scent that always took you back to fond Christmas memories. Next to it, on the ground and on several of the bean bags Bucky had piled up a seemingly endless number of boxes containing Christmas baubles of all sorts, ranging from the traditional ones to typical Christmas motives, Disney characters, and even the most absurd things such as very small-sized fruits and vegetables.

You couldn’t remember when your heart had last felt so light and full. If Bucky’s hand hadn’t anchored you, you might have just floated up through the ceiling and into the sky. And why not? Who knew what else might be possible after all this had felt so much like a dream already? Giving yourself no time to think about overstepping boundaries and the like, you threw yourself into Bucky’s arms, feeling rather than noticing his strong arms instantly enveloping your frame. “Thank you.” Your voice was muffled because you had buried your face in the crook of his neck and because you were close to crying again. Sensing your state, Bucky started tracing soothing patterns on your lower back and mimicking his movements, your hands started stroking his broad shoulders. “My pleasure, doll.”

He held you like that for several moments, lightly swaying to and fro, taking deep breaths with you. And after a while, when you’d quieted down a bit, you noticed that not only your heart threatened to jump out of your chest; Bucky’s heart beat a lot faster as well, hammering against his ribcage so much that you could almost feel it against yours. You drew back a little so you could see his face and were met with a look you’d never seen on him before, a look that went straight to your groin. His hands tightened on your back, like he was afraid to let you go, and your nose lightly brushed his. And just as you were about to close your eyes… his phone rang.

The noise startled you so much that you jumped in his arms and Bucky let out an audible sigh. “That’ll be Steve. Be right back.” With that, he let go of you to grab his cell from the kitchen and you felt like someone had just emptied a bucket of ice water over you and snapped you back to reality. More than that, you did feel cold. Had your body grown used to the heat radiating off him so quickly? Also, and that was the most important: What the fuck did just happen?

Bucky returned about 10 minutes later and found you in almost the same spot where he’d left you, now sitting awkwardly on one of the empty bean bags, desperately trying to regain composure. His heart still fluttered from being so close to you, and as he wanted this day to be anything but awkward, he’d spent a good 7 of those 10 minutes away thinking about how to proceed. In a manner he hoped would come across as relaxed, he sauntered over to the closest bean bag and picked up one the boxes filled with baubles. “Soooo”, why was his voice so squeaky? “let’s get started, shall we?”

He couldn’t see your heart slightly sink in your chest because the magical moment had officially passed of course; he just had eyes for the warm smile you offered him in return. “Sure.” You got up to take hold of one the boxes as well when he remembered something. “Hang on.” You raised your head and could make out something slightly mischievous in his orbs. “I won’t be the only one wearing an ugly Christmas sweater.”

—

4 hours later, any sign of awkwardness or discomfort between the two of you had officially gone to the wind. As instructed, you’d put on the ugliest Christmas sweater you could find (an awful mix of pink and gold in the shape of a Christmas elf with actual bells that jingled whenever you moved), Bucky had put on some music and you’d gone about your business. At some point (probably after your fourth cup of cocoa with rum and Bucky’s third pint of Asgardian mead he’d snatched from Thor’s quarters), you decided to forego any sense of aesthetics and just put up as many ornaments as would fit on the tree. As a result, it now looked as if the slightest gust of wind would make it collapse on the spot, but you two were oddly proud of your work. Taking cocoa and mead with you, you decided to have a small break and moved over to the living room area.

There were a few beats of comfortable silence, Sinatra softly buzzing in the background. Then, out of the blue, Bucky asked you to tell him your favorite joke. You were too tipsy to question how he’d come up with that, so you pondered his request for a moment and then answered. “I hate Russian dolls. They’re so full of themselves.”

Bucky sat up on his spot of the couch and gave you an odd stare that made you wonder whether he’d understood you at all, and then burst out of laughter, almost spilling his drink in the process and making you laugh in return. You’d never really heard his laugh, just the occasional snort when he deemed something worthy of a reaction, but this was a sound made from the gods themselves and you could listen to it all day, every day, for the rest of your life.

Slowly, his fit came down to a low, melodious chuckle. “Honestly doll, sometimes I want to kiss you all over.” “Don’t hold back.”

The words had come out of your mouth before you could stop them. They didn’t remotely sound as teasing or nonchalant as you had meant them to. They sounded sincere, almost desperate. Because they were. And suddenly, as you watched Bucky’s expression falter, you felt remarkably sober again. Oh god.

Part 2

Carefully, Bucky stood up, moved over and sat down next to you. “Are you serious about this, (Y/N)?”

Heat crept up your skin, all the way from the swells of your breasts to your ears. You’d honestly never felt that put on the spot. Unable to answer, your gaze fixed the carpet, hoping that if you stared long enough, maybe it would do you a favor and swallow you whole. Bucky was now less than inch from you, close enough for you to smell his shampoo, his breath fanning the side of your face, making things only worse for you. Your heart sank deeper and deeper until you could feel it in your stomach, heavy like a rock. This day had been going so well. Why did you have to ruin it with your stupid inebriated brain? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

And then you felt his flesh hand cup your face, softly turning your head to meet his eyes. Those beautiful, cerulean eyes. “Because I’d really, really like to kiss you.” Frowning, you shook your head, your synapses refusing to process that bit of information. You swallowed several times before you found your voice again. “Please don’t mess with me, Bucky”, you heard yourself whisper, at which Bucky violently shook his head. “I promise.” And then his lips were on yours and you kissed him back.

It started out innocently enough, slow, tentative kisses, allowing the other to back out in case they changed their mind. Only that he didn’t back out like you thought he would. And you didn’t back out like he thought you would. Realizing how effortlessly your mouths pressed against each other, how right his lips felt on yours, you gradually grew bolder. You turned slightly to mirror his position and your hands went up to his face, feeling the stubble on his chin and jaw before carding through the silky strands of his locks at the back of his neck. One hand in his hair, you let the other explore more of his body as you felt up his biceps, his back, his chest abs. A content hum escaped his throat which only spurred you on. One hand in his hair and one bunching up the fabric covering his chest, you pressed yourself closer to him. His grip on your face tightened as he opened his mouth and his tongue caressed your bottom lip. Greedily, you welcomed him in your mouth and let out a deep sigh as your tongues met for the first time and the two of you fought for dominance over the other.

Bucky’s hands wandered down your body to the hem of your shirt and his lips soon followed suit. You let out a whimper when he sucked at the sensitive skin of your pulse point, determined to mark you. You’d never really liked hickeys, but this was different. You wanted everyone to see, see what had happened between the two of you. While your hands tangled in his hair, his slowly made their way under the fabric of your sweater, exploring the soft skin of your hips, your waist, your belly, cool on your right side, burning on your left.

It was so much more than you’d ever dreamed of, almost too much to bear, and yet his touches only made you more impatient, more needy, more desperate to have him. “Bucky…” It was barely more than a sigh, but Bucky’s head shot up at the sound and his eyes met yours. “What’s it, sweetheart? Talk to me” You took a moment to take him in, tracing his glistening bottom lip with your thumb. “I need you.” Bucky pressed his forehead against yours. “I need you too, doll. So much. That’s why I’m so scared of messing up with you.” You took his face in your hands again and pressed a kiss to his forehead, his eyes closing at the sensation. “There’s no way in hell you can mess up with me, James. Don’t hold back. Take me.” Bucky let out a shuddering breath. “Please.”

It was like a switch had been flicked. Bucky leapt forward and buried you under his weight, making you sink into the soft cushions. Kissing you even more passionately than before, he positioned himself between your legs. The bulge in his pants now clearly noticeable, he started grinding down on you and the friction made you pool with lust. You let out an audible groan that made Bucky’s cock twitch. Steadying himself with his metal hand, he clumsily lifted your shirt up your body with his right hand so the fabric bunched up over your breasts. Eager to assist, you arched your back to unclasp your bra and pulled it up as well. Bucky’s hand immediately reached out to palm the newly exposed skin while his tongue darted out to massage your already swollen buds. He went from left to right and right to left, making you stick your chest out as much as you could, before suddenly taking one nipple into his mouth and sucking greedily on it. You cried out in pleasure and his dark eyes went to scan your face, lip drawn in between your teeth, eyes pressed shut, your breathing getting heavier by the minute. Too mesmerized by the sight of you, he didn’t notice your hand that wasn’t tangled in his hair move from his back to the front of his pants until you massaged his erection through the fabric, running your palm up and down his impressive bulge. He let go of your breast to take a deep breath and used his right hand to feverishly rub your clothed pussy, causing you to yelp in surprise. Your hand gripped his wrist, urging him to slow down. “Don’t want to finish off like that. Need you inside me.”

Bucky’s answer was an appreciative growl. He stood up, freeing himself first from the sweater that was becoming increasingly hot and then from his jeans and boxers. His size was impressive, the tip swollen and glistening with pre cum and you couldn’t help but rub your thighs together in anticipation.

“Uh-uh. Let me take care of that sweetheart.” His voice was now a husky whisper that sent shivers down your spine. Agonizingly slow, he unbuttoned your pants and pulled them off you, groaning when he got a glimpse of your drenched panties. Sitting back on his haunches, he pushed your knees apart and ran his palms up the inside of your thighs, then softly ghosted over the purple cotton, before hooking his thumbs under the waistband. “Show me your pretty pussy, (Y/N).” In one swift motion, the piece of clothing was gone, and Bucky let out a low hiss at the sight of your wet folds. “Fuck, doll. You’re ven more beautiful than I imagined.” You were at a complete loss for words, but Bucky didn’t give you time to respond anyway. He took a hold of his erection and coated in in your juices, your overstimulated body jumping at the sensation, before locking eyes with you and carefully sliding his tip inside you. You both let out a needy whimper when he filled you up, going deeper and deeper, your pussy obediently swallowing him, until he bottomed out.

Bucky was still on his haunches, giving you time to adjust to him, intertwining his fingers with yours. “You okay?” You nodded. “You can move.” Bucky started thrusting in and out of you, accelerating his pace when it became obvious that you were in as much pleasure as he. Soon, he was mercilessly fucking you into the couch, snapping his hips forward and pulling out until just the tip remained inside you, and then repeating his actions, over and over and over again. When he used his metal hand to draw circles on your clit, you were a whimpering mess beneath him, uttering incoherent curses and multiple variations of his name. You felt the familiar sensation build up in your gut and squeezed his hand to hold off, but he wasn’t having it, only increasing his efforts. With a muffled scream, you came all over his dick, your whole body shaking from the intensity of it. The sight of you coming undone combined with your cunt convulsing around his dick pushed Bucky over the edge as well and his thrusts became sloppier as he painted your walls with his seed and then collapsed on top of you, both of you panting and bathed in sweat.

—

Your second time together was slow and gentle, taking all the time you now knew you had, making sure to leave no inch of your lover’s body unattended to. The third time was rough again, Bucky fucking you against the shower tiles, cold water pouring down on you because you’d accidentally changed the setting when Bucky had lifted you and neither of you had noticed. The times that followed took place in various places of the Tower; the pool table where Bucky had found you the day before, the kitchen island, Sam’s bed (which seemed to give him a particular kind of satisfaction), in several of Tony’s cars, at one of the panorama windows, your front against the shining outline of the city (and the fake ice crystals) while Bucky took you from behind, all the while whispering sinful things to you that drove you insane, how often he’d sat in his room fucking his fist to your image, your plump lips that were just made for his cock, your curves that made your entire body jiggle when he drove into you, that beautiful ass of yours, imagining your sweet voice begging him to make you feel good. After all, it appeared he’d thought about you as often as you had about him.

—

You woke up to a rose-tainted sky and soft kisses peppered across the back of your neck, your shoulders and along your spine. You giggled into your pillow. Bucky’s strands brushing your bare skin gave you a tickling sensation. “You’re up early.” Bucky hummed into the crook of your neck, making your skin vibrate. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about before heading out for my run.” You turned around to face him, his hair tousled, eyes still glossed over from sleep. Nobody should be allowed to look that gorgeous. “What is it?”

“Steve and Wilson will be back from their trip in a few hours and they will pester me about my crush on you and whether I’ve finally done something about it.” He rolled his eyes and your smile grew wider. “What are you going to tell them?” Bucky reached for your hand and gently squeezed it. “I’d like to tell them that I asked you out on a date and that you agreed, but that wouldn’t be entirely true, would it?” You quirked an eyebrow. “So you’re asking me for permission to lie to your best friend?” Bucky laughed at that, that kind of laugh that made his eyes crinkle. “Y/N, would you like to go out on a date with me?”

You tilted your head to the side. “Depends. Does that mean we’re gonna have to sleep in separate beds again?” Bucky raised your hand to his mouth and softly kissed your knuckles, then he stretched his head and planted a kiss on your forehead. “No way. What do you say?”

“Yes.”

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ber-bonfamille-lyons · 3 years

Text

It’s Not Christmas Till Somebody Cries || The Bonfamilles-Lyons

Summary: Ber tells his father the truth at Christmas. It goes.......... as well as you can expect. So, badly.

@simba-bonfamille-lyons

@lou-bonfightme

@marie-a-bonfamille

tw: anxiety, panic attacks

BERLIOZ:

Christmas was nearly over.

All in all, it wasn’t a horrible one. He’d had worst Christmases-- the first few one with his parents divorced sprang to mind, when the fights were fresh and it was always a war to figure out who would get the children for the longest. At least there was only one parent to deal with this year, and Pere was, honestly, the low maintenance parent. If he were to ever had someone stay at the cabin, it should be Pere. And he’d been a respectful guest, though Berlioz had never gotten over waking up and coming down to his father sitting at the table, legs crossed, paper in hand, coffee steaming in one of his and Simba’s novelty mugs. He didn’t look like the same man on the television. Like the man in the paper. Like the man in the crisp suits who missed more birthdays than he had ever made.

Sitting at Berlioz and Simba’s table, he almost looked like a real father.

And so maybe that was why Ber had put off the whole reason for this visit. He thought about telling him at breakfast, and then telling him at dinners. He considered Christmas Eve, then chickened out and thought, yes, he’d wait until after the holidays entirely-- until December 26, in the last few hours before they had to take Hector to the train station so he might catch his flight home.

And so Christmas came-- The Bonfamille-Lyons house bustled with people-- Marie and Lou and Nounou, Sarabi, Kiara, Ashlee. They ate cinnamon rolls and exchanged gifts. They lit a fire in the fireplace. Berlioz tried to help out for Christmas dinner and he was soon sent away, to drink whiskey with Pere and Lou on the front porch. They ate again. Ashlee left to go see her friends, and the sky grew dark.

Now they gathered around the table for the third time in one day (so much bloody eating at Christmas) as Simba made to cut the pies, plural, because of course Simba had made many, many different pies.

“You know, I realized,” mentioned Pere as he put down his small cup of black coffee on its saucer. “I don’t think your mother called today, oui? Did you talk to her last night?” He addressed all three of the Bonfamille children, his eyes darting from one to the next.

Berlioz slouched a little in his chair.

MARIE:

Marie had been sort of dreading this Christmas, if she was being honest.

On the one hand, she could be at home, with no responsibilities. She could simply enjoy the season, take part in the festivities, and spend the day lounging around in her designer Christmas jumper, sipping wine and eating one sweet treat after the next.

But then, see, the running away from her coronation had happened. And the divorce. The scandal. Marie was quite sure that eyes would be on her, and not in the way that she liked them to be.

But as the day had crept closer, Marie had had another revelation entirely: with Maman gone, and Papa spending the holidays with them instead, the focus would not be on her, but on Berlioz — even if Papa didn’t realise it. Marie was very talented at putting her foot in her mouth; her worry about any negative attention she might garner was now replaced with worry about ruining the entire day for her (half) brother.

She had done her best to relax, and for the most part, she had — she had spent the day lounging, drinking and eating much as she had planned to. It only came to a screeching halt the very second she thought they had got away with it. When Papa asked if they had heard from their mother at all.

Berlioz slouched, but Marie sat bolt upright, sipping at her glass of Coteaux du Layon. “I spoke to her last night,” she confirmed, smiling a little too brightly, speaking a little too quickly. “She told me to let her know how we liked our gifts — I’ll have to text her.”

TOULOUSE:

This was an incredibly bad idea.

Toulouse had told Berlioz this. The holidays were not the time to reveal familial secrets long ago buried. It was the one time of year where everyone, by the power of something higher, had to actually act decently to one another. Even Hector and Adelaide, after a few years, could only stand to be in the same room with one another during the holidays. And before their marriage had fissured irreparably, it was the only time where they managed to keep the fighting to a minimum and their house became a ceasefire, no-man’s-land. For just a fortnight or so--the Bonfamille manor would be peaceful. The holiday--enjoyable.

It was Toulouse’s favorite time of year for that reason. Also, because he adored buying gifts for his family and Christmas was when he really was able to show off his skill (and how much he cared.) Though, he’d been a bit behind this year, considering he’d spent most of December sleeping on a couch and waking up every two hours when a baby cried.

He was exhausted and he could see the storm brewing on the horizon. Lou just wanted to go back to the Acheron’s and curl up by the fire. At least there the only electric energy was everyone’s bone-tired, waiting in the stillness for the next baby to start crying.

That was a much better stillness than the stillness that followed Hector’s question.

Toulouse’s brain was sluggish, so he was not quick to jump in with an excuse. However, Berlioz was going to be utterly useless and Marie looked as if she was just about ready to jump out of her skin. He sighed, watching their father for a moment, before answering himself.

“She told us she would be busy most of the day, with Claude and Grandpere and Grandmere, I rang her earlier this morning before coming over here.” He had not, but as dutiful eldest son, he would have usually--and it was an easy lie, considering he had not come by until later in the morning.

“She said to say hello and happy Christmas to you.”

BERLIOZ:

His siblings lied for him.

Well, he actually had no idea if Marie’s was a lie at all. He had not told anyone to shun Maman the same way that he was shunning her. They didn’t have to as far as he was concerned; she hadn’t lied to them about their father’s identity for over twenty years of their lives. But he had also known that as soon as Lou found out that the fissure in their family would widen, Lou jumping to Berlioz’s side at once. There’d only been a few seconds where he’d been unsure. Where he thought, maybe, Lou, who loved their mother so dearly, might try to make an appeal.

There were times over the past months where he almost wished he had. What would have been different? Maybe Berlioz would listen. He listened to Lou the most out of anyone. (Not that he listened all that much.)

But too late now. He heard Lou’s lie and couldn’t help but look at Pere while he said it, the jumpiness suddenly alive in Berlioz’s skin. His hands fidgeted under the table. He thought about reaching for Simba, but his husband had both hands up, one of which was shoveling a generous helping of pie into his own mouth.

And so he rubbed at his knees and stared at Pere, who didn’t look at Ber at all.

“Ah yes, le petite Claude,” said Pere, humming for a few moments, flashing a loose smile at the mention of their cousin who had, of course, no relation to Pere at all. “I was surprised about her plans until I remembered about Claude. She means to make him her next project, I’m sure.” He chuckled a little at his own joke, which was not a joke, because his parents were very good at saying exactly what they wanted to say.

“She’s actually spent quite a lot of this year in Paris, hasn’t she? As if he were her own son! I was surprised she did not fly home after news of the coronation. My apologies on her behalf, mon petit coeur.” Hector reached over to pet Marie’s hand.

Berlioz felt himself sink just a little more.

MARIE:

Marie looked at Lou, and took another sip of her wine. So perhaps her answer hadn’t been the best, but at least Toulouse was there to set things straight (ish), and she had at least done better than Berlioz, who apparently found the tabletop extremely interesting.

It shouldn’t be so difficult to talk to her dear Papa — Marie was a daddy’s girl and she always had been, and usually conversation was fairly easy even though, admittedly, she maybe didn’t talk to him as much as she should. This year had just been so busy, and Hector was always fully booked anyhow. Part of what Marie liked about their relationship was that her father wasn’t overbearing, and showed his affection by buying her gifts.

She looked up when Hector reached over to pat her hand, smiling back at him, her thoughts momentarily shifted away from not putting her foot in her mouth. It was probably a good thing that Maman had not flown home after all; she would only have had to book a flight straight back.

Marie wondered if this was what she should do. That is, shift the focus from their Maman to herself, because Marie was very good at stealing the spotlight from her siblings usually, and maybe this time it would actually be appreciated.

“Well, it’s alright, given how things went....” Her gaze flicked from Ber to Lou, and then back to her father. She was very much making a martyr of herself here, she hoped they could appreciate that. “I know she would’ve made a big fuss, and that wasn’t what I wanted, after all that. Myself and Toulouse have been getting along quite well — with NouNou’s help, of course.”

TOULOUSE:

Toulouse’s expression pinched as his father laughed.

See, Hector and Adelaide were very good at putting on faces. They were, after all, the people who had taught Lou the same thing. Hector was better at concealing than his mother, but Adelaide was better at manipulating--using her emotions like the flash of feathers on a bird of paradise, to draw someone in.

Hector’s jokes did nothing to lighten the atmosphere. If anything, everything became more tense. Perhaps it was only Lou who felt it, but he also felt Marie’s gaze darting about like a startled starling. And Berlioz was so stiff that Lou was afraid he was suddenly going to snap entirely in half. And Lou, too, merely pushed his pie about on his plate (it was far too sweet for him anyhow). His shoulders were tense. Despite the potential truth to his father’s words and Lou’s own anger at his mother, that old protectiveness flared up in his chest.

For Hector should know that when it came to it, Lou took his mother’s side in most things. Historically, in almost every argument and disagreement, because Lou was not immune to his mother’s flashy feathers and crystal tears. Especially when the only way his father showed true emotion was in thunderclaps of anger. He preferred his mother’s soft heartbreak. It was easier to stomach than his father’s rage.

“Yes, Marie handled the whole thing beautifully,” Lou complimented his sister, raising his wine glass towards her before taking a small sip. “Maman has been dealing with so much the last year, besides.” And in this, Lou’s words were truer than he meant and they reflected back to him in a way that made him feel rather uncomfortable--suddenly worried about betraying his mother.

But no, she had betrayed them all first.

BERLIOZ:

As Marie began talking, Berlioz relaxed, if just a little. He sat up again, picked up his fork, cut off a piece of his pie. He didn’t really eat it though, just kinda pushed it around his plate as some of the apples escaped. Couldn’t get them all on his fork at once. He kept trying anyway, an expert in turning the most mundane tasks-- checking his phone, fixing his coat zipper, even eating-- into something of a production. He’d mastered this form of invisible performance as a child. Though his father used to complain about it-- don’t play with your food, he’d say. Or, stop fidgeting, Berlioz. Or, pay attention, Berlioz.

But Pere wasn’t looking at him anymore. This was fine. He’d just get through dessert, and right after, he’d nip into the study maybe and tell him then…

And then Lou said what he said.

Ber’s head jerked up, eyes widening just a little. His brother had not meant it; he either thought it was innocent enough or… maybe he was actually trying to tell Pere to fuck off, that he didn’t know waht he was talking about, except for the fact that Pere was still Pere, and like a shark smelling blood in the water…

Ber watched his father raise a curious eyebrow. His eyes glinted.

“Dealing, has she? And what is taking up all her time this year, eh? Another fundraiser for the London Philharmonic?” He laughed mockingly. Maman’s little passions always paled in comparison to Pere’s, according to Pere.

“Is that why she emailed me about you, Berlioz? You’ve been dodging her charity too?”

Ber stiffened. His fork clattered to his plate. “She emailed you?”

“Yes. She wanted to know if I’d heard from you. I figure she was trying to rope you into something, eh? Playing a gala for her friends? She never learns.”

“No, uh…”

“Good on you for not humouring her.”

And much like Lou, those words poked something sensitive in Berlioz-- that tender place that used to run to Maman, that once played the piano in hopes of earning her kisses and compliments. “It’s not like that at all,” he said too sharply. “She just didn’t want me talking to you.”

The mocking smile on Pere’s face faded. “Excuse me? And why not? What the hell have I done to that woman now?”

And Berlioz could say anything now. Or he could say nothing. He could shrug and let the rest of his family chime in-- let Lou defend Maman instead, or let Marie disengage the situation with a compliment or a graceful shift back to her. Even Simba might jump in, if Ber gave him space, tell Hector to shut up or offer him whiskey or something.

And so when Berlioz spoke, he didn’t know why he did. If it was revenge against Pere for his spite. Or if it was revenge against Maman. Maybe it was both those things, and six months of holding, and waiting, and sinking, and he was tired of being the one to squirm when it was everyone else’s fault but his. He’d just been born. So -- yeah. Fuck this bullshit game of his parents’ he’d been forced to play for his entire life.

“She didn’t want me to tell you she cheated on you twenty-three years ago,” blurted Berlioz. “And that I’m not your son.”

Quiet.

Berlioz watched his father’s smooth, practiced face, waited for it to break the way that he knew it could break. But the first crack happened in his knuckles instead, as they tightened around his utensils. Then, very slowly, as if that beautiful silver was made of glass, he set both knife and fork down.

“Is that a joke?”

“Yes,” Berlioz said, then automatically: “I mean, no. It’s just kind of a joke that neither of us knew all this time, so. Yeah, it’s-- it is kinda funny, isn’t it?” His mouth was just moving now. “I think it’s really funny.”

Pere’s eyes jerked away from Berlioz to his other two children. “What is he talking about? Did you know about this?”

“I’m talking about being a bastard son,” said Berlioz. Wow, he could not shut up. This had never happened to him before. He felt kinda giddy. Was he having a panic attack? Was this a new, fun way to have a panic attack, like, with his mouth only?

“Berlioz!” Pere snapped at him to shut up. Ah, there it was. The yelling. But Berlioz wasn’t scared at all, had expected this, and so he leaned back and shrugged.

TOULOUSE:

Toulouse had not meant his misstep to be so grievous as it was. There had been a part of him that was frustrated and wanted to push back at his father. Besides, Toulouse was right. It had barely been over a year since Tantine had died. Their mother’s only sibling. Despite himself, Lou felt the pity for his mother deeply where Tantine was concerned and he worried about his mother. It had always been Lou’s job to worry about his mother. Even when he had been young, he would sometimes catch her in the kitchen late at night, staring into her drink, in her warm, fluffy robes. And even before he’d been old enough to articulate it, he had known his mother was sad. So, he would crawl into her lap and let her stroke his hair and kiss his head.

His father had never been so vulnerable. Even now, he was more stone than man to Toulouse. He had learned much of his own statuesque personality from his father, though, he liked to think that he did it better. Could maintain it for longer.

And he never yelled.

As soon as Berlioz snapped, Lou saw the rest of this playing out, as if Berlioz was their mother and Lou was a child again. Sometimes, the dishes would rattle first, signaling the Earth’s unsteadiness. He was thrust so suddenly backwards that for several precious seconds, he lost control of his tongue. A part of his brain said that he should intervene, say something—help.

By the time he’d sorted himself out, he’d heard Simba—who he frankly forgot was sitting there—say Berlioz’s name very quietly.

His father shouted, like a whip cracked across the dining room table. Lou stiffened and his eyes cut towards his father, his expression stone. He looked very much like his father, the two of them mirrors of each other in anger.

“Hector,” Simba hedged but Lou cut him off. He didn’t turn his attention to Simba, but the tone of his voice made it clear that Simba should have no part in this conversation.

“Yes, I knew.” He purposefully did not confirm that Marie had known. Hopefully, Hector would assume, as was often the case—that Marie had had no idea. “It has not been long. Maman kept it from all of us.”

MARIE:

Marie had to pick her jaw up off the floor. Not literally, of course, but she did find herself sat with her mouth hanging open, and she had to close it with a reminder that it was not ladylike to gawp. She almost felt justified this time, though. Berlioz had really lost it. Well and truly.

Marie did feel a little bit sorry for her dear Papa, though. It wasn’t his fault that their mother had done what she did (well, perhaps it was, but Marie was not delving too deep into the complications of the matter), and this perhaps wasn’t the best way to tell him, but it was too late. It was out there now. And Berlioz just kept on talking, words spilling out of his mouth, more than Marie thought she’d ever heard him say in one go before.

Her father’s shout made her flinch, ever so slightly. Took the shine off of Berlioz’s outburst.

And Marie did so consider sitting there quietly, minding her own business, admitting nothing — she did so hate to upset her father. But the fact of the matter was that she had known. And she hadn’t said anything, because it had not been her place to do so. For once, Marie had minded her own business.

“I knew too,” she admitted quietly, when she felt her father’s gaze trip over her brothers and land squarely on her. “But — not for long.” She echoed Lou’s words, her eyes flitting over to him, and away again. “It wasn’t my secret to tell.”

BERLIOZ:

Berlioz was waiting for his terror to find him.

Usually his terror was the first thing, slinking in like a kind of helpful bogeyman-- reminding Berlioz to hide, whether it meant sinking under the table (like he used to do as a kid) or simply locking up tight. With the anger sharp and cold in his father’s bright eyes, he figured any second now, the terror would pound like a headache. He’d realize what he’d just done. He’d done exactly what he hadn’t wanted to do: make a scene, ruin Christmas, cause a fight.

But his terror didn’t come. He glanced from Lou, who was calm and stubborn, and Marie, who was small and awkward. That was strange for her-- he felt bad about it, actually, but still his terror didn’t rush in.

He hardly even heard Simba. He wasn’t worried about Simba, anyway. Maybe he should be. Maybe he should be at least a little worried about what the fuck he had just done.

“How long?” Pere demanded.

“A couple of months.” Ber said.

“Months?!”

“I dunno,” he said. “I think.”

“You should have told me. You should have told me first--merde.” The chair scraped against the floor as Pere pushed it back, up onto his feet at once. His entire face twisted, the lines on his forehead carved deep. And for the first time now-- now Ber tensed. His hand flew out and grabbed at the table, like he could stop Pere from ripping off the tablecloth.

Instead, Pere grabbed the back of the chair and knocked it to the ground with another curse. Berlioz flinched. Slowly, the white noise began to fill his ears, like Pere was twisting the volume on a television, louder and louder.

TOULOUSE:

Toulouse’s gaze snapped to Marie as she spoke and he felt something uncomfortable twist in his stomach. His wolf was twitching its nose and flicking its tail inside of Lou’s chest. These days, Lou found the wolf comforting most of the time. It was a gentle thing, unless it had a reason not to be and he trusted those reasons, listened to the wolf. He found it easier to listen to it than to not. There was a respect that he had for it and its instincts. Except in moments where human emotion was too trite and complicated for the wolf to comprehend.

The wolf saw his father’s twisted face and thought only: danger. It made Lou’s heart rate tick up slightly and he wanted to get up himself, to cross over toward Marie and stand in front of her. The wolf wanted to let out a rumble of a growl.

Objectively, Lou knew that his father would not hurt anyone. That he was all hot air. The Bonfamille temper had a bark that was far worse than its bite.

All the wolf saw was the bite.

Hector’s chair scraped against the floor and Lou’s followed. He stood, the wolf looking through his eyes at the man on the other side of the table, calculating. Too far for the human to reach, but an easy leap for the wolf.

Across from Lou, Simba had also risen as Hector did and now the three of them stood, the perfect points of a triangle.

Someone’s silverware clattered to the floor but otherwise the air was tense and suspended. Perhaps they could all fold these emotions and memories back. They were all adults now. Hector was on the same plane as Toulouse, as Berlioz, as men. The Bonfamille children were no longer that. With just one breath they could all sit back in their chairs and resume their dessert.

The sound of the chair slamming on the floor shattered the illusion of containment. It cracked through the dining room and echoed against the high ceilings. Despite himself, Lou flinched, feeling himself shrink slightly. It had been so long since Lou had had to confront his father’s twisted anger. He had forgotten that to face it, one had to be as still and strong as a wavebreaker against the ocean.

Simba, however, did not shrink back. Instead, he seemed to get bigger as he took a step, almost behind Berlioz’s chair now. The movement caught Lou’s eye and he turned his head slightly to stare at this new element to the equation, uncertain of what it meant.

“Hector,” Simba said again. He didn’t raise his voice, but the word was as firm as stone. “Sit down.”

“Simba,” Lou breathed out, but cleared his throat slightly when his brother’s husband turned to look at him. “This isn’t your concern.”

“It bloody well is, Lou,” Simba told him harshly. “This is my house. Now, everyone just--sit down.”

MARIE:

Everyone was up on their feet, the whole room seemingly poised for some kind of fight, and Marie herself hit with two very distinct, and very different urges. The first was to get to her own feet, to try and make herself heard above the bickering from Lou and Simba and her fathers shouting; she could go up to her papa now and remind him that it was Christmas, to ask politely that he not ruin this day for her. The second was to sit quietly, like a lady would do, and step in only when the time was right; not to make a spectacle of herself, or lower herself to their level, but to take the higher ground and keep her cool.

(A third instinct might have been to hide behind her eldest brother, as she had so often done when she was younger, just a little girl, and family functions had gone south. But Marie was not so little now, and she had her own head on her shoulders. Even if her papa’s shouting did frighten her, just a tad, she would not cower.)

In the end, she favoured the second option, resisting the urge to roll her eyes as her brothers snapped at each other. “Simba’s right,” she said, looking to Lou, begging him not to make things worse with her gaze. “Lets all just— calm down.” It wasn’t often she played peacekeeper, and the words felt a little clunky coming from her mouth. “Papa, s’il te plaît,” she addresses Hector, smiling sweetly in the way that usually got her exactly what she wanted. “Your chair,” she gestured to the spot where it had once been. “We can talk — can’t we?” She looked between her brothers, dragging them along with her.

BERLIOZ:

Simba and Lou both stood up at practically the same time. Berlioz, meanwhile, rocked forward, his elbows hitting the table as he dragged both his hands over his face and then through his messy curls, simply messing them up further. He knew where this was gonna go though: downhill. The chair was the first crack in the dam, and now the pressure would grow until it was too much. And then it would all fall down.

Berlioz didn’t think he’d expected anything different. Maybe that was why he just blurted it out in the end. He could blame his delivery when Pere sneered at Berlioz and abandoned him here at the table. It would not hurt so much as waiting until that perfect moment-- to sit down with Pere and explain it all in-depth, not only how he found out but how difficult it had been to even gather enough courage to tell other people. How scared he was. When had he ever shared that kinda thing with his father anyway?

This followed the script. It was better. He’d prepared for rejection, and here rejection was.

Berlioz lifted his eyes, that white-noise feeling in his hands. He rolled his fingers into fists and put them under the table.

But Hector wasn’t looking at Berlioz at all.

“Calm down?!” he spat and then switched into French effortlessly, probably in an attempt to leave Simba behind. “I learn all three of my children are keeping secrets behind my back and you expect me to be calm?”

“It’s not their fault,” Berlioz said in French, quietly.

“Of course not! It’s Adelaide’s!” Hector snarled. And finally he looked at Berlioz and he jabbed a finger toward him again--

Berlioz flinched, pushing back into his chair so it slid on the tile.

“And don’t you worry! I will make her pay for this. She will pay for every single year she hid this, forced us all to live this lie.” He barked a laugh out of nowhere; a manic thing. His hand scraped through his receding pepper hair. “Oh, the news will love to hear this! It will be a celebration in the Libération offices! I will make it so she will not step foot in any of her precious theatres, her galas. She will not have a friend left in all of France when we are through.”

Berlioz’s jaw dropped a little, a different horror dawning slowly, but dawning nonetheless. He’d miscalculated. He’d actually been-- too self-absorbed. To think that his father would think this news was about Ber at all.

“Pere, I….I...please, I--I don’t want anyone to know--”

“Oh, they will know! They have to know, after all this time.”

TOULOUSE:

Toulouse had done what he did best when his father went off like this--he turned to stone. He felt the gates around his heart close up tight, his whole chest restricted, shutting down everything but essential functioning. It made it easier to bear the brunt. And Toulouse was used to bearing the brunt. He did it on purpose. He bore it so his siblings didn’t have to.

Only this time, his tactic did not work, because there was nothing that Lou could say to protect his little brother from their father’s ire. It was not Lou that was the bastard, though he wished--if only to take the burden from Ber. He could shoulder it better, he believed. And even if he couldn’t, it wouldn’t matter, if he could keep the pain of it from Ber. If he could keep their father’s twisted betrayal and revenge from Ber…

But his jaw was locked shut. He was terrified to speak. Would he make it worse for his brother if he did? Was it worse not to say anything at all?

He watched as Simba batted Hector’s hand away from Ber, like a cat. Not that Hector noticed, he was already moving it to his hair, laughing. And in that moment, Lou saw a reflection of himself that made him queasy enough to reach out and grab the back of his chair.

It was Simba’s voice--Simba, the one factor here that hadn’t been accounted for, that couldn’t be accounted for. He was an enigma to the Bonfamille argument formula. Just enough so that it cracked part of Lou’s hard outer shell.

“Who--who will know, what?” Simba asked and when Lou looked at him, he found his brother-in-law’s gaze on him.

“My father intends to tell the tabloids about Berlioz’s lineage,” Lou informed him bluntly and concisely. He felt his father’s gaze flick towards him.

“What? Hector,” Simba said sharply. “That’s entirely uncalled for. Think about your son. And what that will do to him.”

MARIE:

Marie’s eyes widened, staring at her father like he’d grown a second head. Perhaps it shouldn’t have come as too much of a surprise that he would threaten to tell the press back home. As ridiculous as it might seem to anyone else, to any other family, the Bonfamilles were well aware of what the press could do to you, how they could affect your everyday life.

Marie saw it going like this: Hector would tell whichever tabloid he decided to give the best exclusive to, and with their father’s and their mother’s reputations combined, it would sell. Soon the whole of France, or at least, those who concerned themselves with this sort of gossip, would know the truth. Adelaide would flee, Marie thought. She wouldn’t turn to face the music. Wasn’t it a Bonfamille prerogative to take flight? She would not come back to Swynlake, either, she would go somewhere else, and her children would be left without her for even longer.

And then there was Berlioz. Poor, sweet Berlioz, who would never be able to hold the weight of all those eyes on him, holding their magnifying glasses over his head. Marie had done it before, Lou too, but…

“Papa, please,” Marie interjected, only now feeling the urge to get to her feet, to run to her father’s side and take his hand like she always did. She could convince him, she thought, she was his little girl— but she had a feeling this would not help her now. “Simba’s right, it isn’t fair to Berlioz. Can’t you just… just talk to Maman?”

BERLIOZ:

“Like she talked to me?!” Hector snapped, drawing his hand from his daughter’s. “No. This is not a lie she can hide from, not anymore. I am-- I’m sorry, Berlioz, I am.” And his father’s voice had evened out, though it was still firm, the voice he used to discipline. “But this is not just about you. This is about doing the right thing, and I will not live under her pretenses.”

Meanwhile, the static feedback grew louder, filling in any crack inside of Berlioz that he’d normally use to hide. But static noise was its own kind of blanket, its own kind of shield. He should fight against it. He had his exercises lined up in his brain, the sort of thing he’d been working on for years now and gettin’ rather good at it too. Breathing, counting, reframing. But right now there was only one thing that Berlioz wanted to do--

Sink. Disappear. And yes, flee. In this moment, Berlioz understood his mother better than he ever had before. She would run from this news, and so would Berlioz. Where, he wondered? Would Swynlake be far enough? Should he go south, find someplace sunny, be one of those rich kids who rented a yacht and drank until the ship sank? What shore would he wash up on then? Would Simba come with him? Couldn’t ask, could he-- think of Ashlee, think of Kion…

These new people in his life used to feel like pillars, but now they were anchors, keeping him in a place he did not want to be.

His brain settled there: I do not want to be here.

Berlioz stood up. “Yeah, okay.” He licked his lips. Shifted from foot to foot, like a rocking boat about to turn over. He felt Simba next to him but couldn’t hear him. Instead, there were just--everyone’s eyes.

“Okay, you do that then.”

And he left the table, moving swiftly toward the porch as quickly as he could.

“Berlioz!” called his pere, but Berlioz’s hand was already on the door. The sound of it twisting was like a gunshot, aimed behind him. He shut the door hard.

#para #simber #berlou #berrie #the bitchy bonfamilles

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