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squadrablog · 4 years

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Would you consider a reader (whatever gender interests you)/Ghiaccio fic? Scenario: he's trying to impress the person he's dating with White Album tricks to varying success. Most Ghiaccio content, regardless of if its reader!fic or not, writes him as abusive, demeaning, or boils him down to angry screaming and nothing else, so it'd be refreshing to see something that's not that!

I have to admit that the use of the word “tricks” really threw me off, but I pieced together some sort of coherent scenario based on the premise. Most of my work went into the other part of your request, because I 100% agree with your thoughts on Ghiaccio’s typical characterization. I hope you like it! (Also this goes for this fic as well as what I’ve written before but I haven’t mentioned it, my use of italics is preserved on Ao3 but not on tumblr. Just a heads up.)

Ghiaccio x They/them Reader (some feminine language used)

Ao3 Mirror Here.

Word Count: 5393

Warnings: Uhhh. None this time as far as I can tell!

Under cut for length!

“So are you going to help or not?” Ghiaccio grumbled under his breath. Formaggio was currently leaned back leisurely in the base’s common room recliner with a smug grin on his face, basking in the rare moment of Ghiaccio’s humility.

“Sorry, sorry,” Formaggio said, finally leaning forward, placing his elbows on his knees and chin on top of his knuckles. “I just don’t want to forget the time that Ghiaccio came to me for relationship advice.”

Ghiaccio was practically biting down on his tongue to keep from snapping at him, but the truth was Formaggio was the most experienced in the art of romance relative to all his other squadmates and he really was desperate for any help he could get.

What else was he going to do, ask Melone? Yeah, right.

“I just need your help deciphering some shit they said, don’t get a big head about it,” Ghiaccio said, leaning back in his spot on the couch and crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re better than me at... people.” It was a tough thing to admit out loud, but Ghiaccio’s social awkwardness was of course no secret to anyone who knew him. For all the talent he had reading people’s intentions in the midst of a battle, when it came to his interpersonal relationships he felt less capable. Of course, that was on other people and their arbitrary social conventions, not him.

But you were different. You said what you meant and spoke in plain language without ulterior meanings or motivations, and you accommodated him and his idiosyncrasies in all the ways that mattered. In fact, you were such a nice change of pace from other people that he tended to overthink everything you said out of habit, projecting hidden meanings where they normally would have existed with others.

“Lay it on me, dude. I’ve gotcha,” Formaggio assured him, his smirk turning into something a bit more cordial and supportive. Ghiaccio let out a deep exhale before talking again.

“We were on a date and I don’t remember what we were even talking about, but they give me this… weird smile,” Ghiaccio began. “And they said ‘Ghiaccio, it’s okay to be more vulnerable around me.’ Said that I could ‘trust them,’ and that if things are going to get any more serious between us they want to see more of the ‘real me.’” He leaned forward as he steepled his fingers. “They know, don’t they?”

“Know what?” Formaggio asked, his eyebrow raised.

“What I do for a living, what else!? They figured it out and now they expect me to say it out loud,” Ghiaccio said, throwing his hands up in the air. “That’s what that means, right? The ‘real me’ they’re talking about?” Formaggio gave a small chuckle and Ghiaccio turned to shoot him a glare. What was so funny about your safety, as well as La Squadra’s, being compromised?

“Dude…” Formaggio said, trying his best to keep a straight face. “You’re fine, chill ou- I mean… calm down.” Ghiaccio mercifully let the original choice of words slide. “If they did know, that’s not how they’d bring it up. No, what they’re trying to tell you is,” Formaggio began, leaning over in the recliner towards the edge of the couch to clap his hand on Ghiaccio’s shoulder, looking him dead in the eyes, “you’re not romantic enough.”

Ghiaccio crinkled his nose at that, but tried to stop himself from getting immediately defensive. “What do you mean exactly?”

“I know you already know this, so don’t freak out if I actually say it, but you’re not exactly… the suavest guy. Or the best at flirting.”

“We’re already together, what do I have to flirt for?” Ghiaccio said, his eyes narrowing.

“See? That’s exactly what I mean! You said they like cute stuff and sweet foods and cuddling right? Someone like that definitely wants you getting a little mushy and lovey-dovey. Everything you say about them makes them out to be this real sweetheart, but the way you say it is always so… technical. So analytical!”

“They say my attention to detail is one of my best qualities,” Ghiaccio protested.

“I don’t doubt it. Look, you’ve got plenty of passion, and based on how much inane shit you know about them that I think they don’t even know about themself, you’re very attentive.” Formaggio might have chosen to say ‘neurotic’ instead, but it was obvious Ghiaccio genuinely loved you and he was trying to compliment him to soften his initial criticisms. “It just sounds like they’re looking for a different side from you as well. The charming heartthrob buried deep within that hard bitter exterior.”

“How is any of that the real me?” Ghiaccio asked, his eyebrows furrowed. Was this really what you had meant? Were you not satisfied by the way he was currently showing his affection? Did the ‘vulnerability’ you talked about really mean you wanted more sappy saccharine schlock?

“It isn’t… yet,” Formaggio said with a wink and a finger gun in his direction. “I’ve got a few ideas though that’ll spark that flame.”

“...I control ice,” Ghiaccio said flatly.

“That you do,” Formaggio said, his eyes twinkling. “That you do.”

---

“Hey, babe,” Ghiaccio said after you opened your front door for him, his posture a bit stiff, one hand behind his back, and his eyes staring at you intensely.

“Babe?” you asked with a laugh, raising your eyebrow. The usage of a nickname was strange enough on its own, but the way he said it was so wooden.

“Does that bother you?” he asked bluntly, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration. “Is there a name you prefer?”

“Whatever comes easiest,” you said with an amused smile.“Which for you is usually just my name, right?”

“I just thought I’d try it out,” he said with a shrug, trying to look unaffected by how you had brought attention to the unnatural way he said it. “Anyway, I got you this.”

Ghiaccio usually never came to your apartment empty handed. Before picking you up for a date he always met you at the door with the intention of handing off whatever he had before the two of you headed out. While they weren’t exactly ‘gifts,’ he always brought exactly what you needed, usually before you had even realized you needed it.

One time he came over and saw that you were low on milk, and the next day before you two headed out he had a gallon in his hand when you opened the door for him. Another time he brought a new lightbulb for the lamp in your living area, and once he replaced the old one you couldn’t believe you had been living in such awful lighting conditions for so long without realizing it. It had been the right wattage, right size, and it even had the LED filaments you liked that gave the light a warm natural texture.

Today he had a box of chocolates. You took the box and gave them a look-over. It clearly wasn’t from a grocery store; they looked expensive. Needlessly so. Sometimes Ghiaccio would spend a little extra on things he knew you really needed or things that you had personally expressed you wanted. You liked chocolates well enough, but they weren’t exactly your favorite, and you were pretty sure he already knew that.

“Fancy,” you murmured. “What’s the occasion?” You smiled up at him, tilting your head to the side. While you of course appreciated the gesture and were not ungrateful to receive free chocolate, it was very out of character for him and you were beginning to get suspicious.

“Do I need an excuse to treat you?” he asked, scratching the back of his head a bit sheepishly.

“I guess not. Thank you very much, Ghiaccio. I really appreciate it.” You said it genuinely, and you gave him one of your sweet smiles that always made him smile back involuntarily. You turned around to head to the kitchen and set them on the counter. “Let me just get my jacket and we’ll head out!” you called back at him.

“The weather is going to be warm today,” Ghiaccio blurted out, a bit too quickly. “I don’t think you’ll need it.” You turned around and your eyes raked over him before you met his gaze again.

“But you need one?”

He was indeed wearing a red athletic jacket, to match his glasses, over his black turtleneck shirt. He turned away from your eyes. “I dressed before I checked,” he mumbled as an excuse.

You supposed it seemed warm enough out, even if you thought you should bring your jacket just in case it got chilly later since the seasons were changing. But that still didn’t give a reasonable explanation for Ghiaccio’s behavior right now. You acquiesced, which seemed to appease him, and headed out with him to his car. You’d ask him what was on his mind once you were on the road.

“Hey, what’s that?” Ghiaccio asked suddenly, pointing to the side as the two of you approached his car in your complex’s parking lot. You followed the direction of his finger before you suddenly lost your footing on a smooth slippery surface, yelping and falling forward towards the asphalt in a mess of flailing limbs.

You were saved, however, by Ghiaccio’s arms catching you as you collided with his chest, awkwardly clutching at him, a bit frazzled by the near-fall.

“Watch your step,” he said, with something playful about his tone. You glanced up and he was giving you what looked like a friendly smile, although it didn’t reach his eyes. Usually if this kind of thing happened he’d be cursing under his breath as he fussed over you, making sure you were alright. While you were glad he wasn’t getting worked up right now, it still stood out as yet another strange change in behavior.

“Thanks…” you breathed out, righting yourself. His arms were wrapped around you just a moment longer than they needed to be, and when he let go you turned around to look at the ground, only to see nothing of interest. “What did I even slip on?”

“I don’t know, but I’m right here if you slip on anything else,” Ghiaccio said, his hand slapping down on your shoulder. You gave him an incredulous look, and a small huff. Now that you actually had time to process it you had to ask yourself what the hell happened. Was that fall somehow on purpose? If you didn’t know Ghiaccio any better you’d think he was just trying to play the dashing hero there. But you did know him better, which is why it didn’t add up.

“I probably wouldn’t have slipped if you hadn’t distracted me,” you asked, your eyes narrowing before you turned back towards the direction he had pointed earlier. “What were you even trying to show me?” It seemed like he didn’t have an explanation ready, fumbling over his words.

“Sorry,” was what he settled on, facing away from your gaze, his cheeks saturated with a bit more red as he looked properly embarrassed. Sorry for what exactly you weren’t entirely sure since it wasn’t an explanation, but you would drop it for the moment, if only to give him the proper time to come up with the right words. Obviously there was something deeper on his mind that was making him act strange, and when that was the case he needed time to reflect before he spoke so it didn’t come out as a frenzied incoherent mess.

It was quiet in the car at first, as he scrunched his eyebrows up while he got lost in thought. Once you had been driving for a bit he finally spoke. “You know I’m committed to this relationship, right?” he asked, his tone wavering just a bit.

You smiled. “Of course I know that. You show me that every time we’re together.”

“But I’ve never said it,” he said, sparing half a second to glance at you before his eyes were back on the road.

“You don’t need to.” You set your elbow down on the center console and turned towards him. “You’ve been really weird since you picked me up. Is everything okay, Ghiaccio?”

He quickly glanced over again and let out a small sigh. “I just want today’s date to be special.”

You gave him a quizzical look, which he couldn’t see, before leaning back in your chair. You hadn’t made any grand plans for today other than going for a walk at the park and getting some dinner together later in the evening, but perhaps Ghiaccio had planned some sort of surprise that he was nervous about? You’d let his weird behavior slide and not prompt him for details for now, as curious as you were, if it meant you were going to get a proper explanation eventually.

---

Ghiaccio knew he was already off to a bad start. Formaggio made it all sound so easy, but it seemed like the more he tried to turn up the charm the more awkward it made things. He hadn’t wanted to orchestrate a situation that would cause you to slip on some ice he summoned with White Album, but Formaggio said that saving you would get you all flustered. You mostly seemed annoyed. Ghiaccio just felt like an asshole.

Why did he spend so much money on chocolates when he could think of a dozen other sweets you’d enjoy way more? Formaggio said chocolates were ‘classic’ and the price tag would show just how thoughtful he was. He had spent so much time trying to find the highest quality chocolate possible that he forgot to pick you up shampoo like he had planned. Last time he was over at your place he noticed your hair smelled different, like the old backup shampoo you used when you ran out of the stuff you liked.

While the two of you took your stroll at the park Ghiaccio was a lot less talkative than usual, trying to split his attention between listening to you and convincing himself to go through with another one of Formaggio’s suggestions.

He slowly began lowering the temperature around the both of you in small increments over the course of your walk so that you wouldn’t notice the change right away, and although he had been uncharacteristically quiet so far he finally spoke up once he saw you shiver.

“Are you cold?” he asked suddenly, cutting you off just before you could finish your current sentence, which you were noticeably unhappy about.

“Yeah, a bit actually,” you said, wrapping your arms around yourself, looking up at the sky. “Even though it’s really sunny out.”

“Do you want to borrow my jacket?” Ghiaccio asked, already slipping it off himself.

“I wouldn’t need it if you’d let me bring my own,” you said, giving him a peeved look and a half-smile. He awkwardly started to drape the jacket over your shoulders. “But thanks.”

There was an uncomfortable pause in talking as you two walked for a bit before Ghiaccio said: “You look cute,” and after a beat, “In my jacket.”

You just shrugged, turning to give him a halfhearted smirk. “Bright red and sporty isn’t exactly my style.”

Ghiaccio let out an involuntary shiver of his own, not realizing he had unconsciously been letting the temperature continue to drop. You frowned at him before shrugging the jacket off and handing it back to him.

“I don’t need-” he grumbled defensively, but you moved to stand in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. You draped the jacket over his shoulders like he had done to you and then zipped him all the way up before he had even moved to put his arms through the sleeves properly.

“You look cuter in your own jacket,” you said, before walking on ahead while he fumbled with his arms, his cheeks heating up at the predicament you left him in. Once you were a little ways away and out of the range of where he had focused White Album you called back, “I think it’s warming up again, anyway!”

“Get back here, you clown!” he shouted back at you, finally getting his arms where they needed to be. Since that had panned out so poorly, Ghiaccio just called off his stand and jogged ahead until he was back in line with you. All this had managed to do was make him feel like a real jerk for telling you to leave your jacket at home just so he could offer you his. It was so utterly transparent, shamefully so.

“Hm… ‘clown’ sounds much more natural coming out of your mouth than ‘babe,’ does,” you said. You had a bit of a skip in your step that you didn’t have before, and he was glad that getting back at him had improved your mood. His expression softened when you smiled earnestly at him. You bit your lip for a second, looking a bit more hesitant, before you asked: “Are you done trying to be a romcom cliche yet?”

“Is that what I’m doing?” Ghiaccio said with a small scoff. Of course it was. Everything he’d been doing felt so fake in his own mind and body, so there was no way you weren’t seeing right through him.

“Is it not?” you asked with a quiet laugh, your smile falling just a bit. “Is there something wrong, Ghia?”

God, whenever you called him Ghia he always had a hard time keeping his cool. He grabbed your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, his gaze fixed forward and his jaw set tight, his face starting to match his jacket in color. “No,” he said firmly. “Nothing is wrong. I’m just being stupid.”

You squeezed his hand. He wasn’t big on PDA, and considering the context of everything else you were still unconvinced he was okay. “You don’t have to do things you don’t like just because-” you started, but he squeezed your hand a bit harder than you had to his.

“I’m holding your hand because I want to,” he said, plainly, if not a bit embarrassed. “Getting you chocolates was stupid, you never get chocolates on your own if you have a choice on sweets. Making you leave your jacket at home was stupid, you’re too pragmatic to rely on me to give you one, and too considerate to keep it on while I’m cold. But I’m doing this,” he said while giving your hand a softer squeeze, “because I want to.”

The matter-of-factness of it cleared all your doubts, and you blushed a bit yourself. Ghiaccio knew you very well, and it wasn’t empty flattery or false acts of chivalry that got your heart going. It was things like the systematic way in which he described the things he noticed you liked or that he found attractive about you. Or the way he surprised you with genuine moments of vulnerability like this that you longed to see more of.

The two of you finished out your walk in silence, a comfortable one this time, hand-in-hand.

---

“I do trust you,” Ghiaccio said, a bit of a non-sequitur since it was unprompted by your current topic of conversation. You were both at the restaurant that you had made reservations for, seated at an outdoor table on a rooftop with a nice overlook of Naples. You had your jacket on; Ghiaccio had insisted that the both of you go back to your apartment to pick it up, and now that you were out in the crisp early evening air you were glad. “I need you to know that I do.”

He scratched the back of his neck, thinking of the best way to say what he wanted to say. “But when you said you wanted me to be more vulnerable, what did you mean? Because it obviously wasn’t whatever the fuck I tried doing today.”

“That was your take on ‘vulnerability’?” you asked with a barely restrained laugh.

“No. It was Formaggio’s take,” he clarified, looking off into the distance with a grumpy expression. You had never met Formaggio, but you had heard many stories about the man and his various antics. “He said you wanted me to be more romantic.”

“Maybe? But not if it’s forced and you set up convoluted situations yourself like some sort of jackass chessmaster. I also said I wanted to see the ‘real you’. Where did that factor in?” You raised an eyebrow at him as you took another bite of your meal.

“I don’t know,” Ghiaccio admitted with a groan, poking at his food and scowling.

“When I said I want you to be vulnerable I meant that I want you to do things like… how you held my hand because that’s what you wanted to do, not because you thought you should. Or things like… I’ve seen you happy, and just about everyone has seen you angry, but I’ve never seen you sad, or afraid, or… well, I hadn’t seen you particularly shy before, but I guess you showed me that today, even if you weren’t trying to,” you said with a smirk.

“You don’t need to deal with my bullshit,” Ghiaccio said, looking at you with an unreadable expression. You frowned.

“Ghiaccio, I want to deal with your bullshit, I want you to rely on me! I also want to know more about the person you are on your own, outside this relationship. You’re always so closed off about things like your personal life.”

Ghiaccio looked back at his food with furrowed brows, stabbing at it a little harder and more frequently. “What if you don’t like the ‘real me’?”

“Ghiaccio.” You reached across the table to grab his free hand, but he just scrunched his neck further down into himself, withdrawing like a turtle. “I love you.”

He stared at you blankly, before his fork was clattering to the ground in his frantic attempt to take your hand in both of his. “Are you fucking serious!?” he spat out, causing several other diners to look over at your table. He had been thinking the same thing for a long while now, but he had been too anxious to say it out loud.

“Dead fucking serious,” you confirmed with a big smile.

In that moment he really felt like he could tell you everything. About Passione, about being an assassin, about stands, even about the lofty goals his squad had for taking the whole criminal empire for themselves. And maybe he would, but right now he realized that he was staring at you slack-jawed like an oaf.

“I love you too!” he said, letting go with one of his hands to slap the table to punctuate his next declarations. “So goddamn much, I’m thinking about you all the fucking time, about how much I don’t fucking deserve you, about how beautiful you are, about how you always eat what you like the least first so that you end your meals on the best note possible,” he said, gesturing to your plate of food, the central part of the dish still untouched as you worked on everything else around it. You brought your hand up to hide your growing blush and stifle a giddy chuckle. He would often compliment you, and he would often get worked up, but rarely did he ever get worked up over complimenting you.

“Ghia, you’re going to make a scene,” you said, more for the sake of appearances than anything as the other patrons watched your table. Honestly, you could listen to him shout praises at you all night.

Eventually after he got everything out of his system he was panting a little from the exertion of it all. “How’s that… for vulnerable…?” he asked between exhales.

“It’s an improvement,” you said with a cheeky grin.

“I had one last thing planned for our date, but I wasn’t sure if I should go through with it after everything.” He smiled at you, one of those rare gentle smiles where all the creases in his brow smoothed out. “But I think you’ll like it.”

“Oh?” you asked. So he did have a big surprise planned after all?

You waved a waiter over and after you paid the bill you and Ghiaccio were soon back in his car, driving down unfamiliar streets towards what was for you an unknown destination.

---

“What do you mean ‘closed for repairs’!?” Ghiaccio demanded of the person on the other side of his phone call, trying once again to open the locked doors in front of him. “The lights are on in there and I can see the rink from here! Looks frozen to me!”

After a few more frustrated exchanges on the call he hung up. “Apparently the system is malfunctioning and it’s not safe to skate on it,” Ghiaccio grumbled, pressing his face up against the door of the ice skating rink one more time, watching the various maintenance workers move about, pointedly ignoring the irate blue haired man banging on the front entrance.

“It’s okay, we can do it another time,” you consoled him. “I can’t ice skate anyway.” You had never expressed interest in it before, and while it seemed like a fun thing for a couple to do you weren’t exactly too excited about trying it or too disappointed that you couldn’t.

“We weren’t going to be-” he huffed out before trailing off, rubbing a hand down his face in annoyance. “Okay, originally Formaggio had pitched this as another one of his schemes, but I didn’t bring you here to pretend to teach you how to skate while you stumbled around. Instead I was thinking… I wanted to show you something.”

You tilted your head to the side. “Show me what?”

“Look… I’ve got one more idea to make this work out, and if it doesn’t then I’ll tell you. But I really want to show you first if I can. If we head out now it’ll still be light enough,” he insisted, heading back towards the car. You followed after him, your curiosity now piqued.

You two were in the car for a while as you noticed you were getting farther and farther away from the city and out onto the countryside. When you pulled up to a makeshift dirt parking lot at the top of a small hill you realized where you were.

“I used to come to this lake a lot when I was a kid,” you mused quietly. “I hope you aren’t thinking it’s going to be frozen over? It’s way too warm for that.”

“Well, I guess we’ll have to see,” he said with a smug grin. You just raised an eyebrow at that response. “Can I ask you to stay in the car for a few minutes?”

“Sure…?” you said slowly, watching as he exited the car and disappeared down the side of the hill. Not too much time had passed and he was walking back up the hill and towards the back of the car, popping the trunk then closing it, before eventually coming around to your door. You opened it and let yourself out, noticing that Ghiaccio was holding laces in his hand with a pair of shoes slung it over his shoulder, and based on context those were probably ice skates. Did Ghiaccio really like skating enough to own his own pair? He’d never mentioned it as a hobby before today.

Soon the two of you were trudging through some dense foliage and over to the side of a lake that was inexplicably frozen. You stared at it, wide-eyed.

“What the…?” you muttered, turning towards Ghiaccio with an expression that demanded answers. He offered none, giving you another smug smile before sitting down on a rock. “How did you know it was going to be… it hasn’t even snowed yet this year!”

“I’ll tell you later tonight, if you really want to know,” he said. And he meant it. But right now there was something else he wanted to show you. “But I didn’t bring you here for the lake.”

You were able to suspend your incredulity for his sake, though it wasn’t easy. After the shock of the lake had fizzled out a little you watched him take the very nice, if not a little bit worn down, pair of ice skates in his hands. He slipped off the shoes he was currently wearing and slid his feet into the skates, lacing them up, while you watched him in silence.

“So you’re going to skate… by yourself?” you asked, arching an eyebrow at him. “And I’m just going to do what, watch?”

“That’s the idea,” he said, finishing up and standing himself upright, maneuvering to the lake’s edge, and before you could complain he shot you one last look, a genuine smile, before he pushed himself onto the ice.

Your boyfriend didn’t share a lot of things with you, but you were surprised that he never saw fit to mention the fact that he was apparently a professional Olympic-level figure skater. Your initial shock at the state of the lake was completely forgotten as you watched him dance across the ice with a level of precision and grace that you had never expected from the man.

And he was pulling out all the stops to show off for you. Spinning in the air, skating low and practically parallel to the ground, skating backwards, skating on one leg with the other poised far behind him in the air. Every jump he made looked too risky, too intense to possibly land smoothly, but as you stood mesmerized you could almost swear that the ice raised up to meet him each time.

After his initial bout of tricks, he skated back over to you and his face looked more relaxed and content than you had ever seen it. “Impressed?” he asked with a confident lilt to his voice.

“Ghia… you’re incredible,” you said, still in a daze. “Why didn’t you tell me you skated?”

“Because I don’t,” he said, his posture tensing a bit, his expression almost embarrassed. “Not anymore. I’m banned from every major figure skating organization in Italy.”

“Oh my God, what happened?” you muttered, finally snapping back to reality and looking up at him with concerned eyes.

“Scandals. Sabotage. None of it helped by my temper,” he grumbled. “It’s this whole big fucking complicated nightmare that I don’t want to talk about right now.” He gestured for you to come meet him at the edge of the lake, and you stepped forward, taking your hands in his as he held them out. “But I loved figure skating. It was the best time of my life, before I met you, and I’m tired of pretending that time never existed. Even if all I can do now is share it with you, then that’s still something.”

“Oh, Ghiaccio, it’s okay” you cried out, your tone consoling, wrapping your arms around him in a firm hug, causing him to stumble a bit on his skates. “I love you so much. Thank you for sharing this part of you with me. I love you, I love you!”

“I get it, I get it, I love you too, you’re going to push me over!” he yelled, trying to pry you off of him. Eventually you released him and stepped back to flash him a tender smile, tears threatening to spill over the corners of your eyes. “What are you crying for?” he muttered, looking away from your intense expression.

“You were crying first!” you shot back, your tears finally flowing. Ghiaccio brought his hand up to his face and realized that he had indeed been gently weeping for a while and it had gone completely unnoticed by him. He huffed before turning around and skating away. “Don’t you skate away from your feelings, Mister!” you called after him.

You watched him skate for some time, seeing him getting lost in his own world out on the lake, chasing after something he thought he’d left behind. He was beautiful. Utterly beautiful. The whole night had been magic, the impossible frozen lake something from another realm. Eventually it got too dark to see properly before the both of you headed up the hill to the car, hand-in-hand.

#ghiaccio x reader #la squadra #jojo imagines #jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba x reader #my writing #anon #ghiaccio

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mikkomacko · 4 years

Text

Dear Daisy 5

Daisy never realized how big the house is until Harry's not there. Without his large personality sitting at the table, or his lanky legs kicked up on the coffee table while he works, or his broad body moving around the kitchen, Daisy feels like she's living in an empty palace. It's gotten to the point that she hates being at the house, but going to visit her family is just as depressing with them now crying over Sterling's departure. Her father's taken up more work with Thomas, hoping to make up for the usual revenue Sterling brings into the family. It's not much seeing as most of her brother's earnings goes into his personal savings so he can afford to marry Stella and take care of her. Daisy tried spending time with her future sister too, but that ended up being even more depressing then staring at Harry's empty couch cushion. So she goes on walks now. She's been putting off walking through the park because it reminds her of Harry now, and she stays as far away from the beach as possible. That really only leaves the town for her to walk through, but she likes the shops so she doesn't mind. She hardly buys anything, but the browsing keeps her mind off of Harry and how much she misses him and if he's okay. Her favorite shop to go in is the local bakery, owned a ran by a man named Robin and his kids. It's nice to sit at one of the tables, picking at a scone or mini pie and watch Robin teach his son's to roll out dough correctly and cut shapes into the pies. The three men are always so happy and carefree, and the feeling rubs off on her after sitting there for a bit.

Today, however, is different.

The bell above the door chimes as she pushes it open, stepping into the little shop and expecting a smile from Richard who's usually behind the counter. He's not there today, and walking up to the counter she realizes that Sam isn't either. It's just Robin, lips drooping down in the corners as he dusts some flower onto his apron. Daisy's smile falls, confused by the unusual gloomy mood in the bakery.

"Oh, hello Daisy." Robin greets when he notices her, offering her a pathetic smile. Daisy rests her elbows on the counter, holding her chin up.

"Is everything okay Robin?"

The man shrugs, shaking his head with a sad chuckle. "My boys left today," he mumbles, "one of them to the Poland, the other Germany."

Her heart falls to her stomach, and she thinks of Harry again. She's so worried knowing he's in France, she can't imagine how upsetting it'd be if he were sent to the front lines. "I'm sorry," she sympathizes, pausing a brief second before deciding what the hell, "my fiance shipped out a few weeks ago."

Robin looks up, a bit surprised as he moves to stand across from her. "Mr. Styles was called out?"

She shifts uncomfortably, scratching her fingernail across the wooden counter to keep her mind off of the war as much as possible. "To France for training and then assignment. I haven't gotten a letter yet informing me of where he's heading afterwards."

One of Robin's hands move over the counter, patting the top of Daisy's comfortingly. "It's tough, but I can't think of a greater man than Harry Styles fighting."

Daisy pauses, looking up at him curiously. She's never heard anyone say anything remotely kind about Harry before. He's always whispered about, gossiped about, but they're all tells of his rudeness or his harsh words. Daisy, having been privy to both, never really questioned anyone's dislike for Harry. But she'll definitely question their compliments for him.

"You know Harry really well?"

Robin nods, moving to untie his apron. "Grew up with his father. When he passed away I tried to keep an eye on Harryand Gemma. Of course that uncle of his stepped in, tried to raise Harry to be a prick like him-" Daisy giggles, never having heard Robin curse, "but good always beats bad."

He hangs his apron up, reaching under the counter for a small basket of oatmeal cookies. He places them on the counter in front of Daisy. "Free of charge, for Harry." He says, smiling softly. Daisy watches him for a moment, thinking that Robin must be a great father. He's kind, compassionate, but also tough. And judging by the two boys she's met in here before, he knows how to raise a good son. It's then that she realizes he's the only one running the bakery now, and while rations for the war have started, bread is always in demand. He'll be getting busy, busier than usual, and he might need help.

"Mr. Robin," she murmurs carefully, waiting for him to look at her expectantly, "if you'd like company or help around the shop while you're boys are away, I'd be happy to do so. Don't have to pay me or anything, I'd just like to get out of the empty house."

Robin's smile is warm and grateful, and he looks around the kitchen as if trying to picture Daisy back there helping him. Finally, he nods. "I'd love to have you Daisy, and I'd be happy to let you take home the tips for the day."

"No that's-"

"It's the least I could do," Robin interrupts, "owe it to Harry and his father."

She knows by the firmness of his voice that there's no room for arguing, and she knows tips aren't very much right now anyway so she won't feel bad for taking money from him. Plus the holidays are coming up, and she'd really like to get gifts from everyone without having to use Harry's money. It doesn't feel right to use it without him there, but then again, nothing really feels right while he's gone anyway.

Dear Daisy,

My training has been completed and I've received my assignment. Luckily for us, I'm staying in France, patrolling Paris in case Germany attacks. I'm sorry I didn't write sooner, it was difficult to find time during the first couple weeks, but you should know that not a day has gone by where I haven't thought of you. I ache for you, long for you so much it makes me dizzy. Patrolling Paris is wonderful, I've been here a few times, but I can't help but find you on ever corner. In the flower shops, laying among the soft petals. In the warmth of the bakeries and restaurant, beckoning me. Swirling in the air around me, shining in the stars above me. It's not the first city I've found you in and I'm certain it won't be the last.

I know I have so much to say to you. Secrets and truths that have been on the tip of my tongue since the night we met, pleading to be told. Oh how desperate I was on our last night together, aching to tell you everything. Again, I'm sorry, for I'm making you wait. I know you hate me, enough to cry for me, enough to marry me. I was once told my parents hated each other as well, and I had never seen love like theirs.

I hope you're staying warm as the days get colder, maybe planting vegetables in your garden in the back. Pumpkins grow well against the wall of the house and my mum has a wonderful pumpkin soup recipe. I'll dream of you tonight, and maybe every night, in our kitchen with the pretty blue apron around your hips, filling our house with a warmth only you could bring. My radio playing in the background, I'll wish to be sat there with you, argue over how you under-cooked the pumpkin just because I like the color of your pink cheeks when we fight.

Stay safe for me Daisy for I need a home to come home to.

-The Harry Styles x

Cold winds come with fall, blowing into the bakery every time the door is even slightly cracked. Daisy's lucky enough to be on oven duty, staying warm in the back while Robin works the counter. She's been working with him for almost a month now, finally skilled enough to help decorate the Halloween cookies and package them. Robin does most of the baking, but she always helps, and every time she finds a recipe of interest he goes out of his way to teach her to make it. Daisy finds working at the bakery to be quite wonderful. It's a good way to spend her time and she's never been good at cooking despite her mother's hard efforts to teach her. Meredith isn't much of a baker either so Daisy never learned that growing up either. It's exciting, working here. Like she's got a new hidden talent or secret that only her and Robin know.

It's only a matter of time before her mother or Summer starts questioning what she's been doing during the days, and she's dreading having to answer. Some may it find it silly but if she tells them about her new hobby she's afraid it'll lose its appeal. When she's here, everything is simple. She bakes and laughs with Robin, forgetting that men are fighting a few countries over. And if she's feeling particularly lonely, she can imagine that Harry's just at work, that she'll finish her goodies for the day and take them home in a box wrapped with pretty ribbon, body flushing when her husband praises her.

Even if it makes going home even more disappointing, Daisy will enjoy her time in the bakery. She's nearly curling the ribbon on a package of croissants for the girl on the other side of the counter when Robin says he's going to take the trash out back real quick. They were starting to close up when the lady came in, a Mrs. Weathers as Robin had greeted her, and he instructed y/n to quickly wrap her order. She carries the package over, smiling politely at Mrs. Weathers and charging her.

"You're Mr. Styles' fiancee aren't you?" She asks, counting out the coins in her purse. Her green eyes look Daisy up and down (as much as possible with the counter between them) but she looks more curious than judging.

"Yes ma'am."

Mrs. Weathers hums, accepting her change from Daisy. "Never thought I'd see the day he'd find a wife." Her tone is amused, mixed with a little bit of surprise, and her eyes shine at Daisy with a newfound respect.

"Why's that?" Daisy questions. She knows Harry's not well liked. He's not really liked at all, but everyone has their person. Maybe she's not Harry's person but her family made it so she is. And it turned out to be better than expected. So maybe she actually is his person and she never knew.

"I had a bit of a crush on him myself a few years ago." Mrs. Weathers admits, looking sheepish. "Tried to talk to him on the beach once, maybe get him to take me on a date in that pretty car of his. Barely spoke to me though. Ignored my flirting, even went as far as telling me I was desperate." Daisy cringes at the word. Harry used to hint at her being desperate too, but he never outright said it to her. If he had she thinks she would've hit him.

"I'm sorry," she apologizes, feeling the need to make up for Harry's rudeness. "He's got a sharp tongue and an ego big enough to keep his mouth flapping."

Mrs. Weathers laughs, waving her hand. "Don't apologize! It hurt at the time but I'm grateful he's the way he is. I probably would've married him and that would be awful. My husband Terry is the greatest love I've ever known."

Daisy smiles at the dreamy look in Mrs. Weathers eyes, but her chest aches for Harry. He may be rough on the edges, but she knows deep down he's sweet. He has a reason for all his actions, and maybe that's why he's terrible to everyone. A sort of test, wanting to see who cares enough to stick around. Or it could just be him knowing what he wants and being careless. Either way she's proud, knowing she was the one to turn him.

"It just takes him a bit to warm up." Daisy defends, "But I'm the lucky one that stuck around, I suppose."

Mrs. Weathers chuckles, picking up the package and nestling it in the crook of her elbow. "If you say so." She hums, adjusting her scarf and then she's heading out into the chilly air. Daisy stares at the door for a moment, thinking that Harry's actually a lot kinder than Mrs. Weathers and any other person that something bad to say about him.

Daisy's crouched on the lowest porch step, fingers begin to burn as she lights the last of the Jack-O-lanters her and Summer had carved yesterday. Harry had been right about the pumpkins, she grew so many that they were able to save two for soup, leave three on the steps here, and take two back to Summer's house.

Tossing the match to the side, Daisy watches the candle flicker through it's smile. She can't help but notice that this particular face has the same little bunny teeth as Harry, even if it's big smile is nothing like Harry's. Her heart sinks, eyes stinging as she pathetically imagines him. Not exactly sure how long she watches the flame dance, wishing it were Harry's eyes in front of her, she practically jumps out of skin when two hands jab her shoulders. "Boo!"

She almost falls off the porch steps as she leaps to her full height, the hands of Gemma being the one thing to steady her. "You scared me." Daisy says sheepishly, holding a hand to her racing heart.

"That was the point," Gemma teases, "it's Halloween." Her eyes look over Daisy, smiling falling. "And you're not dressed up at all."

Blushing, Daisy picks at the bow around her waist. "I was gonna be a kitten but I haven't had time to draw my nose and whiskers on. What are you?"

Gemma adjust the sleeves of the button up, tugging down the too-small sweater vest and holding her arms open. Her hip pops out sassily, "I'm Harry!" Daisy examines her again, realizing she's wearing her version of the outfit they mocked Harry about when wedding shopping. "I figured you could use a little Harry today, and I'm as close as it gets right now."

Daisy's glad she hadn't done her makeup yet, because Gemma's words send her to tears.

Dear Harry,

I've never been to Paris but I can't help but find comfort in the city knowing you're there. I'm sure it's not exactly what you were expecting for assignment; you've always been a front line man, but I'm grateful the universe is on my side this time.

I grew pumpkins like you suggested and your mother made the best soup for us after Halloween. I wish you could have been at the house with me. A girl came dressed up as a fighter pilot and I thought of how much you'd enjoy that. Gemma came over to hand out candy and stay the night, which was nice. The house is to big without you in it, but for some reason it made me miss you more.

While your secrets make me nervous, I respect your choice to wait to spill them. At first it drove me mad and I spent days like a tornado in the house. I've found a distraction though, one I think you'll be proud of. An old friend of you father's, Robin, has been teaching me to bake. His son's shipped out as well and we've found company in each other's presence. I don't like cooking, as you very much know, but I really enjoy baking. Maybe one day that'll be our routine. You'll come back from the war, safe and sound, and I'll bake lots of desserts for us to devour while you cook our meals. And of course your radio will be on, and maybe I'll make you dance with me. I happen to be a very good dancer when you're my partner, and no matter how much I try to fight it, you'll always be my greatest partner.

Stay safe for me Harry or I'll have no husband to bake for. With all my heart, Daisy o

Rain pelts against her umbrella, ice cold in the November air. It far too late for her to be out here, but at least it's a nice neighborhood. Not as nice as Harry's or Thomas', but still better than the one she grew up in. She doesn't dwell on that thought too long though, because she's still trying to figure out why she came here. Shivering, the red door stares back at her tear filled eyes, daring her to step forward and knock. She wants to, she really does. Wants to go inside, sit next to the wood burning stove she'd sat by with Harry that one time he brought her here. Maybe drink some tea. Maybe wrap a blanket around her frame and cry. It felt too empty to cry in their house. Her sobs echoed and rattled, reminding her she was alone.

Still in her pajamas, she'd thrown on one of Harry's peacoats and grabbed the umbrella from the coat closet, running through two streets worth of puddles. Her soaked socks remind her of that.

Sniffling, Daisy wipes her eyes with the cuffs of the coat, finally stepping onto the welcome mat. Inhaling shakily, she knocks before she can duck out and spend all night crying in the street. Harry would be so upset with her if he found out she was even out right now. He told her not to worry, yet here she was.

It takes minute for the door to be answered, lights flicking on upstairs, and then on the staircase, and then in the living room. Daisy wills herself to calm down, bouncing anxiously as the door swings open.

"Daisy?"

Anne has wrapped her robe around her nightgown, rollers mussed in her hair, and eyes bleary but her eyes widen when she meets Daisy's red rimmed ones. "Oh dear, come in! Get out of the rain!"

She waves her in, Daisy's umbrella dripping water on the rug as she closes it and places it in the rack. Anne shuts and locks the door behind her, immediately reaching to help Daisy out of her son's coat. "I'm sorry," Daisy mumbles, shaking off the damp fabric. Helpless, she watches Anne hang it by the door, bottom lip trembling with surpressed cries.

"What's wrong sweetheart?" Anne coos gently, reaching forward to push back her wet hair. Daisy crumbles under the affection, chest aching so bad she thinks it might crack open to reveal her longing heart to the cruel world. "Are you hurt?"

She shakes her head, finally breaking down. Her body shakes against Anne, shoulders hunching as her mother-in-law wraps her arms around Daisy. Anne shushes her, rubbing her hand in soothing circles over her back. "It's okay darling. You can talk to me."

Somehow, Daisy manages to choke out the one thought swirling through her brain. "I miss him so much." It's simple, but the words make her cry even more after finally admitting it. She didn't realize how much she enjoyed being around Harry, how much better he made her days. Being without him is like missing the broth in the soup, the flour in a loaf of bread, the roots of a plant. Nothing feels right and she hates it.

"Oh darling, I know." Anne coos, stroking her soggy hair tenderly. Daisy feels small in her arms, cradled like a girl as small as Kitty even though her feet are on the ground and not around Anne's waist. She thinks back on when she wishes she were as tiny as her sister, innocent to this kind of hurt, and she can't help but think this night was born out of that wish. Maybe the universe started a war, drafted the one boy she may one day love, just because she was being sad and petty. It's stupid, Hitler's not invading previous German land because she wished to be little again. But it does feel nice to have Anne hold her, tell her she understands. All Meredith’s ever done is tell her to grow up, act her age, learn to cook, get married, have kids. Everything she always felt like she could never do.

“He’s really irritating but I want him back.” Daisy murmurs around trembling breaths, beginning to calm down. Anne laughs, whispering an agreement before pulling back enough to see her face. She strokes her cheeks tenderly, motherly.

“Let’s her you dry clothes and a cup of tea, yeah?” Daisy nods shyly, letting Anne guide her up the stairs and into a random bedroom. She digs through the dresser, pulling out a cotton tee and striped pajama bottoms. The same pajama bottoms Harry owns multiple pairs of. “These were his favorites as a boy. Don’t fit him now but I can’t get rid of them.”

Daisy changes into them in the bathroom, recognizing the scent of Harry immediate. He still smells the same today but more manly. Maybe it's that nice cologne he wears that makes him smell older, more mature. But his teen scent is comforting too. The two of them, feeling small but together. It makes her ache a bit more, but she smiles at it. Maybe Harry's thinking about her, smirking as he fall asleep and imagining her crying. Soulmates maybe, reaching out to jab at her throbbing heart. It's a very Harry thing to do, she thinks.

And she continues to think of him when she crawls into his childhood bed, an old record player playing an album he loved as a kid, with her mug of tea on his old nightstand. Buried in his sheets, it almost feels like he's there too. That's how it should be, husband and wife, buried next to each other forever.

#dear daisy #harry styles #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #one direction #harry styles au #ww2 harry #soldier harry #arranged marriage au #1930s harry

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rixxy8173571m3w1p3 · 6 years

Text

September Song (2/3)

I’m sorry @kitten-wrath that this took so long, but I do hope you like it. @hoodoo12 @xerxezra thanks for brainstorming with me. Also, Ice Cream Rick belongs @porkchop-ao3. References to the flowers can be found here (The Language Of Flowers) and pizza rolls here (Sick Day)

Also, special thanks go to @her-victori for reading a majority of my fics in a short span of time. You Rock! As well to random anons who leave me sweet words in my ask box.

If you haven't read the first part of this fic then here's the link. (Read Part1 Here)

In this fic the reader tries to be more reserved and mature for Rick, but what will he think?

______

Chapter 2: These Precious Days

The mom and pop ice cream parlor which could be found at the edge of town offered over twenty flavors and twice as many topping options. Rick thought you'd prefer this quiet atmosphere over the crowd that would've surrounded Ice Cream Ricks truck in the Citadel; he was right. Though it really was a shame since Ice Cream Rick was actually pretty nice. After ordering, you two sat by the window with the best view of a lonely backroad and a white GMC truck.

“I-I-I like that you went for the rainbow jimmies.” Rick commented as he popped a mini gummy bear into his mouth.

“Hmm? Yeah, I like the texture.”

Which was true, but it wasn't the whole truth. You loved sprinkles on just about any dessert they could be placed on. They were fun, colorful, and your dad's favorite topping. They reminded you of good times. You continued. “And they're a classic. Wouldn't you agree?”

“I-I do. Would you say that y-your favorite flavor?”

Savoring the flavor of your chocolate ice cream, you nodded. “Yeah.”

Smiling softly, he seemed to be ruminating on this information, before storing it away and eating a spoonful of his pistachio ice cream. After a little while, he managed to get a bit of it on the side of his mouth, which made you giggle. And because old habits die hard, you picked up a napkin and wiped his face clean. Under your fingertips, his skin had that masculine roughness that came from constant shaving. Of course, you were familiar with it, but these slight reminders that came about by chance never failed to amaze you.

However, you were quick to pull your hand back because he wasn't a fan of public displays of affection, though it seemed to have the opposite effect, with him reaching out and placing your hand back on his cheek, and leaning into it. “I'm glad y-you were able to come with me today.”

Seeing as the shop owner was in the back room, you relaxed a little. “I am too.”

Rick was always a little funny when he got sentimental, which was why it didn't surprise you too much when his eyes bore through you as he said. “Me encanta estar c-contigo.”

“Rick,” you began, wanting to let this facade go and declare every single word of affection your heart felt inclined to say, but just as soon as you thought you were going to crack, you restrained yourself, and simply said. “your ice cream is going to melt.”

Several beats of silence passed, and he acknowledged what you had said, but he went on. “You - I-I sometimes wish I could carry you in my pocket, and have you look after me all the time, but th-that's silly isn't it? It's not realistic, and that w-would be selfish.”

“If it's you, then I don't think it is. While it wouldn't necessarily be practical to miniaturize me and carry me around, isn't the beauty of a relationship knowing that you're always on someone's mind and that they are out there somewhere caring and thinking about you?”

“Certainly, but what I-I meant to say is that it'd be nice if this was our life. If I could keep y-you and if you and me ugh - all th-the time…we - if we….” he faltered, fixing his eyes on something else in the room.

“You don't mean eating ice cream do you?”

With a sigh, he relinquished the hold he had on your hand, “N-no.” and continued to eat his ice cream; resigned, and slightly embarrassed. You couldn't help but feel a slight disappointment. It's not like he wanted to say the magic words. Right?

________

After ice cream, you two visited the bookstore on the corner of Kinder St and Lavue Ave; which had not only a coffee shop but a toy store connected to it. As soon as one entered into it, you were met with the latest best sellers, books on travel and wellness, as well as souvenirs; it was one of few places that didn't bother you if it was cramped. To your left next to the window were those mint boxes which said Adventure Awaits, and it filled you with gladness as picked one up; thinking of little things you'd put in it after all the mints were gone. For his part, Zeta-7 seemed to know exactly what he was going for, disappearing in the back where all the used books were. Not knowing whether to follow or look around, you just did as you pleased.

Past the Keychain holder, above the box of mini hands, you found a Mister Rogers mug. You loved that wholesome old man who used to teach lessons and play with puppets on PBS; Rick reminded you of him too. On the label, it said that when you added hot water to the mug, Mister Rogers would change from a suit jacket into his cardigan. Seeing as Zeta-7 hadn't returned yet, you decided to buy it and continued to look around until he soon returned with an older book in hand. “I-I-I hope I hadn't kept you waiting long.”

Facing the bookshelf, pulling out books that you were mildly interested in, you answered. “I knew you would show up eventually.”

Noticing the stack of books you had, he asked sweetly. “M-m-mi corazón, do you want me t-to hold those books for you? They look a-a little heavy.”

You weren't sure how long you could keep up this facade of being mature and not melting into a puddle everytime he said things like that, with him being as darling as he was. Nonetheless, you nodded and he lightened the burden on your arms.

“Wow,” he brightened. “I-I didn't know you liked Alexandre Dumas.” And picking out another book, he wondered. “Have y-you ever read this?”

“The Man In the Iron Mask? No,” you admitted sadly. “but when I was in high school I did read about a third of The Count of Monte Cristo. I even have a postcard that my old English teacher sent me from Europe that had a picture of one of the buildings that was used in the movie.”

“That's s-s-so cool. Do - do you enjoy classic literature?”

Wholeheartedly, you replied. “Isn't it the best kind?”

“I-I-I don't know,” he softened. “but I don't know what I'd do without them.”

You thought of his home library then, with its eclectic mixture of languages, colors, and topics, and it made you feel warm in your soul. “If your home library tells me anything, it's that you have a healthy appetite for books.”

He glanced at your lips after you said this, but made no attempt to follow whatever thought which might've come to mind. Instead, you two carried on a lengthy discussion on books, how many were a social commentary of the time period, and how they influenced the world you lived in. For once you didn't have to pretend you knew something you didn't, cause you did know. Quite intimately in fact. And within the small spaces between shelves and bodies, where you'd normally feel claustrophobic, you were safe amongst all the friends you had yet to meet amongst the pages, and with Zeta-7 whose warm words and tall body shielded you from the curious eyes of the cashier.

_______________

A stack of books sat quietly in the back seat of his car. Crickets chirped, and there were random feral cats here and there, but there was only you and him as far as you were concerned. September Song by Willie Nelson played on the car radio as he led you into a natural waltz next to the town lake, and moonlight reflected in his eyes. If you hadn't been so afraid of drowning, maybe you would've preferred to dance on the dock, but like this, it felt right.

Oh, it's a long long while

From May to December

But the days grow short

When you reach September

When the autumn weather

Turns leaves to flame

One hasn't got time

For the waiting game

With your head resting on his chest, he hummed along to the melody. More than once you heard a sniffle but assumed it was just Zeta-7 caught up in the moment again.

Oh the days dwindle down

To a precious few. ..

September, November. ..

And these few precious days

I'll spend with you.

These precious days

I'll spend with you.

You thought every day spent with him was precious, and you had to admit that you weren't sure at the beginning of your relationship if it would've worked out, but you were glad that the both of you took a chance, and had been pleasantly surprised ever since. And after all this time, now that it was the fall again, you wondered what the next year and the year after that would be like; the possibilities are endless. However, your train of thought was broken when Zeta-7 stopped dancing and stood there; covering his face, wanting to disappear.

“Rick?”

“I'm - I'm sorry, but I-I-I-I can't do this.”

“Can't do what?”

“I-I-I can't pretend that everything's o-okay. Something's th-the matter isn't it?”

“No there isn't.” you denied.

“Then why are y-y-you so quiet? Are w-we breaking up? Are you - are you leaving me?”

You literally wanted to smack yourself for being such an idiot. “No! Why would you think that?”

Using his phone, he paused the music and passed a hand through his hair in an attempt to calm himself. “Y-y-you haven't been yourself all evening. I thought for a moment that maybe th-things were alright back in the bookstore, but you - I know y-you were holding back. I know how much you love books, and writing is y-y-y-your passion, but you were hesitant in sharing your opinions on either subject. M-mi corazón,” he pleaded, the lines about his forehead and mouth deepening. “please b-be honest with me. Is this it?”

“No, it's not.”

Your plan, which you thought has been working went horribly wrong. So much for trying to act like an adult for once. Man, you only wanted to entice him, which you somewhat succeeded, but because of your stupid games, you'd led him to believe that you were unsatisfied with your relationship. If anything, you were unsatisfied with how you handled this. “Believe me Ricky, you haven't done anything wrong. In fact,” you sighed, your chest aching from the bloom of anxiety. “you've only been sweet and charming. But I….oh, I was only trying to impress you.”

“Huh? Wh-what?”

“Exactly. Whatever I thought I'd accomplish, it…..I only managed to mess it up. Again. You probably wouldn't get it,” Or maybe he would, but you weren't feeling like yourself. “but sometimes I feel like all you did was pull me out of my little bubble so I could wreak havoc. I'm not any different from hundreds of other versions of me, am I? Cause, if I'm like them, then how did I end up with you? How did I get so lucky to be with someone so wonderful? I hope they are happy because I am with you.”

With a hand pressed over his heart, a single tear made its way down his cheek. “M-me too. I'm so happy with you.”

“Somehow, despite all my inadequacies, you want me. I mean, is it stupid to believe that I just wanted to be different from all those other copies? That I just wanted you to think I was mature?”

Zeta-7 looked at you with a wistful hope in his eyes.“No, it's - it's not stupid. You - you did that f-for me?”

“Who else dear honey man of mine? Maybe it can't be helped and I'll just be what I am,” you confessed. “but for a moment I wanted to be different. So I gave myself the look and didn't overreact. And most of all, kept my mouth shut so you wouldn't get bored of my rambling. I know I talk too much.”

“N-no, that's not - have I led you t-to believe you weren't good enough?”

“Not on purpose, but I can't help but feel that way sometimes. We both know I'm not that special. I mean, the only impressive thing I've ever done is eat 37 pizza rolls, and not kill the flowers you gave me. I'm so sorry,” you cried, “I'm sorry you got stuck with an idiot.”

He pulled you in for a tight embrace, smoothing out your hair. “D-don't ever say that.” he cooed. “You're - you're clever, lovely, and always give me something t-t-to smile about.”

“Anyone can do that.”

Pulling back a little, he gave your shoulder a squeeze and softened. “N-no, not at all. Y-you give away dreams, smiles, and kindness. You're reliable, and I-I can trust you. And there is no one in the universe th-that could compare t-to you when it comes to being the perfect woman. If anything, I'm th-the defect here.”

“No, you're perfect Ricky.”

Placing a lock of hair behind your ear, he continued. “I'm glad y-you think so, but this isn't a-about me. You - you dressed up today, in a-a elegant dress that I'd n-never seen before,” and pressing a kiss behind your ear, he whispered with a little gleam of pride in his eyes.. “wearing the perfume I-I-I made you. Smelling like a-a dream.”

Again, how anyone considered this charmer a doofus you'd never know. “I had been saving it for a special occasion.”

“Everyday with you is - is special.”

“Oh Rick. That's…thank you.”

Pointing at your feet, “And I noticed that you're closer t-t-to my height today, but your feet must be hurting by now. Would y-you like to take them off?”

Oh, your feet were screaming. And now that you weren't pretending, you slipped out of your shoes which made you lose about four inches. Picking up your shoes and shoes and dusting them off, he continued. “That must feel better. I-I-I had to wear heels for a case once. It ugh - it's not practical when y-y-you have to run.”

“Right? I don't see how other women do it, cause I can't. I'm not even sure why I own them. I should just burn those things.”

You'd say it was half relief, half joy that made him laugh wholeheartedly at this, and you didn't see how it could be so funny. You poked him and pouted, and he delighted in this. “See?” he chuckled, looking at you in that funny way he did from time to time.

“See what?”

“This. This is th-the girl I fell in love with,” he stated matter of factly. “the one who likes t-to be comfortable, speaks her mind and prefers those jeans with th-the rip on the side. Not to mention those graphic t-shirts. Or cute pj's.”

Your breath caught a little at this confession. How could the smartest man in the universe adore an impertinent person like you? Maybe the same way you could love the smartest man; you just do. In your girlish voice, you said. “I only wanted you to be proud of me.”

Holding you a fraction tighter, he pressed a light kiss to your temple and chuckled sweetly. “Y-you already do princess. Today y-you made an effort for me, and that's impressive, but honestly, I want you t-t-to be comfortable and dress up how y-you like. You as yourself is what impresses me, because you have s-s-so much spirit, and I - that's what makes y-you gorgeous.”

This time you didn't even try to hide your blush.

“Oh Rick, hearing you say that really does make me feel silly. Why did I do this to myself? What was I thinking?”

“I believe y-you're still trying to figure it all out like the rest of us, and I can't get mad at you for th-that because you're wonderfully human. You had good intentions, and th-that's what counts.”

“Can you forgive me?”

“I al-already have.”

TBC

#doofus rick #doofus rick x reader #rick sanchez x reader #j19z7 #rick j19z7 #rnm fanfic #my writing #my works

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hongjoongslut · 3 years

Text

Happy Birthday

idolboyfriend!yunho × genderneutral!reader

warnings: some slight smut mention at the end, just Christmas and boyfriend!yunho being the SWEETEST.

word count: 2.5k

enjoy!!!

December. one of your favorite months. not only because of the chilly weather, you also get to spend more time with your lovely boyfriend Yunho. He would always go out for your Christmas gifts. Last year he made a cheesy treasure hunt that led to a beautiful necklace with his initial on it. Aside from his cheesy manner, he loves to decorate.

"Babyyyyy~" you were awoken by a familiar angelic voice. "come on y/n, we gotta decorate the tree!!" you groan. "can you at least wait until 10? its 8:30 in the morning." yunho laughed and jumped on the bed, forcing you to wake up completely. "Yunho i'm going to kill you after Christmas passes." he smiled and kissed your head. "At least you'll wait so you won't be on the naughty list this year, although some of the things you've done would show you're naughty" you slap him with a pillow while laughing. "no talk of that until I wake up and get out of bed."

You finally got up and dressed yourself. Wearing one of his hoodies and some sleep shorts, you walked into your living room. Something chocolatey tingles your nose.

"See, I told you it'd be worth it to start decorating early in the day. I made us hot chocolate! I even got marshmallows in there just for you." you smile and give him a kiss on his cheek. "h-how come it wasn't my lips??" you giggle at his pout. "maybe because I want to wait until we have the mistletoe up." He hurriedly set down his drink and practically jumped over to the decorations box. He shuffled through bells and ornaments, trying to find it. "Found it!!!" he ran back over to you and held it above you. "Yunho that's not what I meant." he pouts again. "well you didn't clarify so now you have to kiss me!" you just sigh and finally give him what he wanted. You heard him throw the mistletoe, holding your face with both hands. He pulled away, leaving you both begging for air. “Now, can we start on the tree?”

Hours of decorating and getting distracted later, the tree was finished. It was almost perfect. “Where’s the angel for the top of the tree?” Yunho just looked at you and smiled. “The only angel in the house would be too big for this tree.” you scoff and smile at his line. “Seriously baby, we can’t have a complete tree without a topper.” He stood for a second before rushing to your shared bedroom. “We can put Mr. Snuggy up there!” You saw the first stuffed animal he ever gave you clutched in his arms. You smile lightly and nod in agreement. Yunho effortlessly put the teddy bear on top of the tree, well, close enough to the top.

“It’s so pretty baby.” you hug his side and stare into the millions of shining lights. “I know it was late putting the tree up, but I knew ATEEZ would be busy for December.” Yunho smiles and nods. “Putting up the tree right on Christmas Eve was very late, but it’s okay.” you were about to kiss him when he smiled and sang “cause all I want for Christmas, is you!!!” you just smiled and went to go get ready for bed.

It was 10:00 AM. You stirred until you didn’t feel Yunho by your side. You were about to call his name when he opened the door. “Good morning darling. Merry Christmas.” you smile, barely opening your eyes. He picked you up and carried you to the living room. It was filled with sweet aromas. Hot Chocolate, Gingerbread Candles,and Cinnamon filled your senses. You had a strict tradition for Christmas. You can give each other 2 gifts. One is a gag gift and the other is the real one. “Open this one baby, you’ll love it” Yunho hands you a medium size box. You eagerly opened it to find a fake flower with a note. “I will love you until the flower is no more.” you smiled and kissed his cheek. “I knew you were cheesy but that was actually very cute. Here’s yours.” he grabbed a red bag and shuffled through the tissue paper. You had made a box that had a bunch of “coupons” that he could use. “Are these the coupons that give me free kisses and hugs whenever I want? You nodded. “Yes! I needed these.” Before you tried to give his other gift, he stopped you. “Baby, your other present kinda correlates with your birthday, is that okay? Of course you’ll get other gifts that day but this is a half christmas/birthday gift.” You nodded and reached for your gift. It was a very tiny box. Two concert tickets sat in front of you. They were blank on the side you were seeing. You flipped them over and saw Monsta X written on them. You immediately tackled him and started sobbing. “Baby, this must have cost a fortune! You didn’t have to spend this much on me!!" Yunho shook his head. "remember I told you Shownu and I were close in training days." you sat speechless. "when is it baby??" "look at the tickets y/n…" it read February 18th [or use your own, I used mine since it was close?]. "On my birthday!!! Yunho, this is the best present I've ever had, besides waking up to you everyday." you hug him tightly. "Your other gift is in this bag, I saw it and immediately thought of you." He opened the bag to see a hoodie with a picture of you two with the heart filters on snapchat on the front. "i-if you don't like it, that's okay ill just wear-"

he stopped you with a passionate kiss. you could feel him smiling through each kiss. "baby, I fucking love it!!! Why would you think I wouldn't wear it. If I never got dirty, I'd wear it everywhere all day. People can see how cute and squishy you are. The picture you chose makes your cheeks looks so cute!! That was our first picture together." He took off his shirt and put the hoodie on. "not to mention it's so soft inside! thank you baby, i love it." you spent the rest of the day snuggling on the couch watching Christmas movies. This was one of the best Christmas memories you will have.

*major time skip!*

you could not stop dancing and singing the lyrics to every song Yunho played. He decided it would be fitting to jam to Monsta X since you were on the road to the center. "Baby..I just realized that I don't know what center they're performing at, you never told me and it looks like it wasn't on the tickets either." he turned down the radio. "because, as another part of your surprise, they're performing at the center we met at." you felt tears tease your eyelids. "Really? Yunho, all of this doesn't seem just coincidental. Are you planning something else behind my back?" you joke with him, knowing he'd never hurt you in any way. "I promise y/n, I haven't planned anything. All I did was get us very close seats to the concert. Pinky promise." he extended his finger to meet yours. Little did you know, his other fingers were crossed.

It was about 10 minutes before the show started. you could not hide your excitement. "Hey baby, I'll be right back, I have to go use the restroom. I promise I'll be back in time." he kissed you and ran off. You haven't got a text from him or anything. You were seriously worried. All of your thoughts paused when the lights went off. 6 familiar men rose from under the stage. Everyone was on their feet, screaming their voices out. You were no different from everyone else.

"What's up everyone!!" Jooheon yelled, making the crowd go wilder. "Alright guys, we wanted to make this concert special since we have not had a concert in so long. I think you'll love the surprise" Shownu smiled and was trying very hard to not spoil the surprises. You heard the stage platform raise again, only to see Wonho. "We got our bunny back! Let's give him some extra love!" Changkyun could barely finish the sentence before running over to hug him, along with the rest of the men. You couldn't hear anything but screams. "Hi guys!!! Thank you all for the support, it seriously helped me" you started feeling tears in your eyes. You suddenly remembered Yunho was still missing. "This is not the only surprise we have planned, Monbebe. Since it's the first concert with our bunny back, we thought we'd have some special guests." Kihyun could barely be heard over the crowd screams. The group asked the crowd to calm down for a moment. The music for "Thanxx" started playing as Ateez ran out from behind the stage. You finally saw Yunho and he looked absolutely gorgeous. He was in his outfit from their music video. "What's up Monbebe??" San smiled as he heard the cheers.

You've heard Inception, Love Killa, Thanxx, and Nobody Else so far. When one group performed, the other was chanting and dancing along with them. "I think it's time for our last surprise. Before we do, I want to say thank you to Monsta X, Monbebe and ATINY for making this possible." Yunho started speaking, making your heart swell. "I have someone that I need to come on stage" he starts walking off the stage, security trying to keep fans away from touching him. Your body lights up with a spotlight. Yunho stands in front of you, offering his hand to you. You took his hand and walked back onto the stage. You almost couldn't walk, your legs felt like jelly. "Everyone, this is my partner Y/n." The crowd clapped and awed. You were trying to hide your face from blushing but Yunho was quick to stop you. "Look, they're shy..give them some applause!" The crowd clapped, screamed, even chanting your name. "Alright guys, I think it's time for the next song. This is a special version of a song that we made." Wonho smiled at you, making you fangirl inside.

You heard the beginning notes of "She's The One" but it wasn't Shownu singing, or any of the other members. It was Yunho. He was staring at you as he started to sing the beginning.

"They're the one, got me all messed up. I could write a million songs, but I know it's not enough.They're so beautiful and I know they know it. They know how to think, yeah they always owns it."

The group sang the lines he skipped. You felt tears streaming down your face. You wanted to stop them but you were too mesmerized.

"Think about their face every time I wake up. At night I wanna ask about how their day was. They make my knees feel weak They make my drink feel stronger, Can't eat, can't sleep, can't dream Can't wait any longer, any longer now"

The breakdown came. The crowd, Monsta X and ATEEZ were singing. Yunho was looking at you, smiling and tearing up. He let Monsta and ATEEZ sing the rest of the song while he held you and danced with you. The crowd started clapping before you could process what just happened. "Everyone, I need to say something to Y/n." It fell silent.

"I know I lied to you about this whole concert thing, but I had to. Y/n, I love you more than anything in life. I don't care who knows I do. I love showing you off. I love everything you hate about yourself. I want to spend my life with you. I want to grow old and try to dance like we did in our younger ages. I want a house and a pet with you. We either have kids or pets. I will leave that up to you. Overall Y/n, you are just perfect for me." he sat on one knee and asked the infamous question "will you marry me?"

You stood shocked. You couldn't hear the crowd. You were just focused on what just happened.

"Yunho...yes, yes I will marry you!" he slid the ring on and hugged you tightly. You were so happy, you could barely stand. He helped you back to your seat and all the boys continued their concert.

It was another hour before they all said goodbye to the crowd. Yunho grabbed you and took you backstage. You were welcomed with applause and yells. The staff were very kind to you and congratulated you. "Yunho, you seriously need to teach me how to charm" Shownu laughed, along with everyone else. "I know I just got proposed to, but can we talk about what the hell just happened? San, Jongho, Mingi, Joongie, Yeosang, Wooyoung and Seonghwa, you sneaky little bastards." they all laughed. "It was very hard to not spoil this. You know I am the hardest to keep a surprise. Remember your two year anniversary party?" San could never keep a secret. He told you there was a surprise party then immediately ran away. "Regardless of that, you actually kept this one in, I'm proud." Mingi joked around. "Okay, so holy shit hi Monsta x. I've been a fan for years. I joined when-" Wonho decided to interrupt. "Yunho already told us all about your history with us. Thank you for the support. We all appreciate it." You all talked until it was time to leave.

"thank you guys again.. this meant the world to me." Yunho smiled and agreed with your statement. You asked a staff member to take a picture with all of the boys. You parted ways, Yunho deciding to drive you home.

"you've had this planned for how long?" you started crying again. "Baby, I've had this planned ever since I met you. But in seriousness, probably a few months. It was hard for all of us to keep it a secret, especially from the fans." All you could do is stare at the ring and smile. "and before you ask, yes I meant every word I said. I did have to exclude some of the things I wanted to say." you turned your head. "well tell me what they were?" "well, I love how you pleasure me..how your lips fit around my cock so well, as if they were made for me..watching the moments your dominant side is showing. I love everything." Even in the dark, he could still see your face turn a crimson red.

You slept all the way home. He carried you into your shared bedroom, stirring you awake. "I didn't want to wake you love, but you need to change into more comfy clothes to sleep in." you loved how caring he is with you. Deciding on wearing his t-shirt and sleep shorts, you plop on the bed, waiting for him to cuddle you. "I love you very much y/n. please never forget that." he kissed your forehead. "sweet dreams, my future spouse."

"goodnight my future husband."

i hope you enjoyed reading this! it was very sweet to me and please if there's any errors or anything, let me know! 💜

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