#I hope the colours match what you had in mind!
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hate the way you smile
pairing: theodore nott x fem!reader
genre: fluff, angst, comedy, e2l + childhood enemies??
w/c: 4.7k
summary: from the second you met theodore nott you knew that your life would be torturous and that the boy would never leave you alone but maybe forever isn't so bad with theodore nott.
warnings: none just a lot of bickering
a/n: omg this one is a bit long but i finished it!
From the moment that you met Theodore Nott at the bright age of five you knew you would hate him forever. Maybe it was the way he would sneer at you with distaste or the way he would mock you for being a big crybaby whenever he took your toys. All you knew was that you simply loathed his presence.
Your families had been friends and they had initially thought that you and Theo would get along since you were both the same age. What they didn’t expect was the young boy to rip the heads of your dolls and proceed to mock you for crying your heart out. Yet even with all of your constant bickering your families still met up every holiday, bringing the demon child with them to torment your life.
Since that day your childhood was filled with cruel laughter and the mischievous eyes that would watch wherever you went.
At age seven, Theodore Nott found it appropriate to fill your bathtub with toads causing you to shriek out in terror when you opened the bathroom door, and him, to run away with glee at your horrified face. At age nine, he thought it would’ve been funny to surprise you by dumping a bucket load of pumpkin juice all over you and he cackled at your expected screams of anger. What he didn’t expect was for you to retaliate by smashing a tray of cauldron cakes into his face.
Needless to say the war between you two started way back then and it had continued, the only difference being that now you both were more mature and civilised and there was no room for childish pranks.
“Suck my cock you mangled prat, I hope you trip and fall to your death you insignificant shit goblin!”
At least so you thought.
You made a move and lunged for Theodore Nott’s throat as anger flared in your eyes. No one paid mind to the scene that was unfolding before them afterall it was a common occurrence for the last six years.
“You enchanted my hair green!” You shrieked as you shook the brunette violently. “Are you out of your mind Nott? I thought we agreed we wouldn’t mess with each other’s appearances, what happened to that?”
Theodore simply smirked and you felt your fury bubble inside you. He tilted his head to the right and acted as if he was actually pondering your question. If you could you would have been breathing flames as you felt yourself grow more livid as every second went by.
“Hmm…I like your hair L/n, really suits the whole vibe you’re going for, don't you think bella?” Theo flashed you a wicked grin as he reached out to twirl a lock of your hair between his fingers. You slapped his hand away.
“And what vibe am I going for Nott? Please enlighten me since you apparently are the one making decisions for me.”
You should’ve just walked away. You really should’ve just cursed him out and gone to Madam Pomfrey for some sort of remedy instead of staying and entertaining whatever shit-faced idea he had come up with. The moment you saw the smug smirk that spread across his face and the dangerous twinkle in his eyes you knew he was going to spew some absolute bullshit. And you were right.
“Well obviously it’s a statement declaring that you’re mine, why else would you dye your hair to match my house?” The Slythering feigned disbelief, clutching his hands to his chest innocently. “But Salazar, I didn’t know you would be so bold about your feelings towards me bella.”
You felt heat rise and settle on your cheeks as you tried to come up with a colourful comeback to wipe the stupid smirk off his face but the words die in your throat. It was against your will but you could feel your face growing hotter as he continued to stare at you with that flirty glint in his eyes. Your brain spluttered to a stop and you scrambled desperately for something to say.
“Fuck you Nott.” You seethed before storming away with your hands balled into fists. You could hear the whispers of students and you could feel their stares as you stomped to the infirmary, determined to find some way to get your hair back to normal.
Theodore Nott was the biggest pain in the arse you knew and he had never stopped being one. You still remembered when you had received your letter to Hogwarts and he had scoffed at the sight asking why Hogwarts would want a half-wit like you. Needless to say your parents weren’t surprised at the cries that erupted a second later from both you and him.
Throughout your years the two of you had become known for the obvious tension and pure hatred you harboured for each other though it did seem to lean on your side a bit more than it did to his. It had been the same for the first three years, bickering, pranks and whatnot. Then fourth year came and the scrawny boy you once knew had magically grown much taller and his face had lost a lot of the baby fat it once had. All at once Theodore Nott became one of the most sought after boys in Hogwarts and it only made you loathe him more. It made his ego triple in size and it made him much more flirty towards everyone but you seemed to be his number one target. All you wanted to do was to take your wand and puncture that bloated head of his.
Though his appearance changed he still was the boy you knew since you were a child and whenever he smiled you could see the same boyish grin he had way back when he was five. He had always been the same but now he just had a much more pretty face to disguise the fact he was a blithering idiot.
Theo watched as you stormed off, his smile never once leaving his face. He loved to mess with you purely to see the visceral anger that radiated off you every single time. The way you would try to stare him down but the action proved useless as he was much taller allowing him to simply look down smugly. It amused him to see how your reactions never changed.
Ever since you were five you held the same expressions: whenever you were mildly irritated by him you would chew on your bottom lip, whenever you were pissed your eyes would double in size and you’d look like a fire-breathing dragon, and whenever he made you upset you would stare blankly without a word. He’d only ever made you truly upset once and when seeing your face he knew he would never do it again because even if the two of you bickered and fought he would never hurt you.
“Sometimes I think you’re secretly dating because you should see the way you’re daydreaming hopelessly while staring at L/n’s retreating figure Nott, you look like a bloody imbecile.” Draco slapped Theo’s back startling him out of his own thoughts. He scoffed after realising what his friend was implying.
“Oh Salazar’s balls I think I’m going to regurgitate my breakfast. You’ve gone insane if you even think for a second there’s a chance I fancy that creature.”
Laughter erupted from his friends and they continued to mock and tease him obviously not being mature enough to handle the situation with grace.
“I would rather shag the giant squid than date L/n and I’m sure the feeling is mutual.”
Mattheo hummed to himself and smirked. He placed his arm on Theo’s shoulder. “Well then can I ask her out? She’s real hot and I think she’d be interested.”
“L/n might be stupid Riddle but she wouldn’t ever go out with you or even give you the time of day. So don’t even think about doing it.” And with that he left and his friends exchanged knowing glances before bursting into another fit of laughter at their friend’s own obliviousness.
//
This was so not your day.
Never in your life had you forgotten to hand in homework yet one silly slip up had cost you to spend your free afternoon in detention. It wasn’t your fault you had mixed up the dates on when the transfiguration homework was due.
You begrudgingly opened the classroom doors, finding a seat to sit down for the next hour. At least you were able to catch up on some other classes while you were in detention otherwise you thought you would’ve gone mad. You looked around the classroom save for Professor McGonagall who had already greeted you when you walked in there was no one else there.
It hadn’t even been a minute when the doors burst open to reveal a very tall and very smug Slytherin.
“Mr Nott, glad for you to join us, find a seat please.”
Theo's grin faltered as his eyes locked onto yours, a flicker of confusion dancing across his features before it was swiftly replaced by his trademark smirk. He made his way toward you, closing the distance until there were mere centimetres separating you from him.
“Now L/n, Nott, I have important business to tend to so I assume the both of you are mature enough to sit through this detention. I hope that I don’t hear about any incidents when I am gone.”
It was as if your nightmare had all of a sudden come to life as you watched McGonagall leave the classroom. You tried to protest but it fell upon deaf ears as the professor had already left the room, leaving you stuck with your nemesis.
You whipped your head to face the brunette, irritation flashing in your eyes. Why had he chosen to sit next to you when there were plenty of other seats available? The classroom was far from crowded, yet here he was, invading your personal space with his mere presence
“Why are you sitting next to me Nott?”
“Why can’t I? Do you happen to own every seat in this classroom?” He teased. “I didn’t think you did, so I’m going to sit where I want.”
You grumbled under your breath at his stubbornness, getting up to pack your things. “Fine, but then I’m moving.”
Before you could make your move, Theo reached out and grabbed your arm. “Hey slow down, I have a perfect seat right here.” Your irritation flared at his audacity, and you shot him a scathing glare as he gestured to his lap with a smug smirk. “Why don’t you-”
“Nott, if you seriously propose that I sit in your lap I will hex you to oblivion.”
“Okay!” Theo held his hands up in mock surrender, his expression feigning innocence as he cocked his head to the side, the smirk never once leaving his face. “Stay here, I won’t bother you, I swear.”
You eyed him cautiously, your scepticism evident. You weighed the options before you reluctantly sat back down. “Fine.”
A quiet hush befell the classroom and all that could be heard was the scratching of quills on parchment. That is until you were interrupted by a persistent poking sensation that disrupted your concentration, each jab of the quill more annoying than the last. You clenched your jaw as you tried to ignore Theo but you knew he wouldn’t stop until you gave him attention and there was no way you were giving him the satisfaction of reacting. So he continued to poke and poke and poke.
His incessant poking finally pushed you over the edge, prompting a sharp hiss of irritation from your lips. "What?" You snapped, unable to contain your frustration any longer.
“What are you doing here?”
If there was a competition for incompetence Theodore Nott would sure have won first place.
“Detention obviously.”
“Oh you know what I meant, why are you in detention? Did you do something stupid? Wait, you do that all the time I forgot.” You rolled your eyes, resisting the urge to roll them right out of your skull. "Tell me, bella," He continued, his voice laced with faux innocence. "I don't bite."
“Forgot my homework.” You reluctantly mumbled under your breath, feeling all too claustrophobic at how close he was to you. “Not that big of a deal.”
“Oh but it is.”
“What does that even mean, Nott?” Your eyes narrowed. Theo’s face twisted into a playful smirk and he was so close that you could practically hear his heart beating.
He chuckled, undeterred by your hostility. "But it's not like you to forget your homework," He teased, leaning in closer. "There must be something distracting you. Perhaps... thoughts of me?"
As if on instinct your hands reached out to push the unbearable boy away from you and you immediately got up at his incredulous words. You saw the way laughter bubbled and slipped from his lips, mocking you which only added more fuel to the evergrowing fire.
"In your dreams, Nott," You retorted, your voice laced with venom as you rose from your seat, your movements quick and determined. "I would sooner volunteer for a Dementor's kiss than waste a single thought on you."
Theo’s smirk only widened and his eyes gleamed with mischief. "Oh, believe me, the feeling is mutual," He quipped, his voice dripping with amusement as he rested his chin on his palms, his gaze never wavering from yours.
You huffed out an angry breath before picking your stuff up and stalking to the opposite end of the classroom. Luckily, he didn’t follow and you were left in peace for the rest of the detention.
//
It had been a week and a half since your detention yet Theodore Nott hadn’t approached you once since. In fact, you hadn’t seen him around school a lot, not that you were paying attention of course. It was just weird. Usually his face would pop up in front of you multiple times a day yet he was nowhere to be found. You had even lingered around the Slytherin table at lunch to see if he would show up but he never did.
There was this sick feeling in the pit of your stomach. Even though you did despise Theo you had known him since he was a kid and he never was one to skip lessons much less disappear for over a week. Even his Slytherin friends didn’t know where he went.
That is until today. The moment you had walked into the dungeons ready for your Potions lesson you spotted him. There was a part of you that hoped you would see him today, after all he was your Potions partner. But there was something wrong. His face looked gaunt, pale, sapped of life and his eyes were merely blank as he sat unmoving. His usual demeanour was replaced with one of hollow emptiness.
“Where have you been Nott?” No response. You frowned as you looked at him, he seemed to not even hear you. “Nott? Have you suddenly become deaf?”
“It’s none of your business.” He snapped voice obviously laced with malice as the words cut through the air. The sharpness of his tone caught you off guard, a twinge of hurt gnawing at the edges of your consciousness despite the fact you both had said worse to each other.
You chose to ignore the fact that Theo was obviously in a sour mood and sat down beside him, unpacking your things. There was nothing special about the lesson, nothing that you needed to particularly pay attention to. Not that you did since you were too focused on trying to figure out what was wrong with your partner. Theo didn’t look okay, not in the slightest. He seemed exhausted and his sluggish movements proved you correct as he diced the various ingredients.
You were in the middle of stirring the cauldron when Theo dropped a dandelion root in the mixture causing it to bubble and spit. The concoction spilled onto your hand and you shrieked at the sudden burning sensation that seemed to consume your hand in flames. The sensation is unbearable, a sharp, burning agony that seems to penetrate deep into your very bones. By now the whole class had stopped to look at you not fully registering what had happened. You turned to Theo, tears threatening to fall from your eyes at the pain but he stood there frozen, an expression you couldn’t decipher on his face.
“Theo-”
"Fucking hell, L/n." He spat, his voice dripping with disdain. "Would it kill you to not be such a clumsy moron? You could've hurt me as well. How can you even call yourself a witch?"
His words were sharp and spiteful. Through the many years of knowing Theodore Nott he had never blamed you for something he did. He might have been an incorrigible prick but he would still apologise if he had ever hurt you genuinely. But as you looked at him you couldn’t recognise the cold harsh look he gave you and you bit back your tears. You wouldn’t cry in front of him.
Despite the fact your hand was in pain you felt something tighten around your chest and it made the air around you feel thick as if you couldn’t breathe. You stood up angrily, opening your mouth to snap back but your vision starts to fade, black spots invade your senses and that was the last thing you remember before you tumbled to the floor.
You woke up a few hours later as you felt the sun shine on your face. You blinked, disorientated, as you tried to get used to your surroundings. The familiar walls of the infirmary materialised and you felt some ease at knowing where you were. Confusion still gnawed at your mind as you struggled to piece together what had happened. How had you ended up in the infirmary? And why did everything feel so hazy, as if viewed through a foggy lens?
Your gaze drifted to your hand, the source of the searing pain. And there, wrapped in a pristine white bandage, lay the answer to at least one of your questions. The memory flooded back in fragments, disjointed and incomplete.
Theo's careless mistake, the scalding mixture splattering across your skin, the sharp cry of pain that had torn through the air, all of it came rushing back with startling clarity.
“Miss L/n you’re awake!” Madam Pomfrey’s voice cut through your thoughts and you saw the woman make her way towards you hurriedly. “That was a terrible burn you had, lucky I had some burn-healing paste on me otherwise you would have had an ugly scar.”
You were still a bit dazed, trying to piece together how you even managed to make your way here. You distinctively remembered collapsing to the floor but that was where your memory stopped and it refused to give you any more.
“Sorry Madam Pomfrey but do you know how I got here? I really can’t seem to remember.”
“Oh dear.” The nurse frowned at your condition. “Mr Nott brought you here. He’s been here the whole afternoon. He's only just popped to dinner. I'm sure he’ll be back. Merlin, the boy did look worried.”
You resisted the urge to scoff at her words. Theodore Nott, worried. Not a chance. He probably only brought you here because Slughorn insisted, and he couldn't risk getting on the professor's bad side. No, you highly doubted he cared about what had happened to you.
The memory of his harsh words repeated in your head like an echo that refused to go away, a reminder of his indifference to your situation. And yet, despite your efforts to brush it off, a bitter laugh escaped your lips. Why were you even upset? After all, the two of you were experts at hurling mean insults at each other. It was practically a pastime.
Rather you should have been mad at the fact he was the one who caused you to get this injury anyway. If it wasn’t for his stupid mistake you wouldn’t be in this predicament. Then again, you remembered his movements, how his usual nimble fingers were fumbling the ingredients, how he stared at the pages of his book as though they were in a foreign language. Something wasn’t right.
“You’re awake.”
The words startled you and you spotted the Slytherin boy approaching your bed as his face held the same blank expression as before. He sat down beside you and your eyes narrowed. You shuffled away, not wanting to be near him.
“I’m sorry.” He murmured quietly and the words caught you off guard. “These past few days just haven’t been the best and-”
“That’s your excuse?” You bristled at his pathetic apology, hoping that you had misheard what he had said. “You mess up our potion resulting in me getting hurt and then hurl insults my way trying to blame me for what happened. And you think simply saying ‘I’m sorry’ is enough? Using the excuse of having a few bad days as your way out?”
He stayed silent allowing you to continue.
“Theodore Nott, you always were an idiot.” You spat, the words tinged with disappointment. “But I never expected you to be such a heartless prick.”
As the final syllable fell from your lips, a heavy silence settled over the room, punctuated only by the shallow rise and fall of your breath. You held Theo’s gaze and as you studied him you noticed something you had failed to notice before. The dark circles that marred the skin beneath his eyes, the redness that rimmed their edges. The weariness that had been etched into his features.
“I went home.” He finally said, breaking the silence with his words. “Father sent a letter saying it was urgent, that I needed to return home at once.”
You felt yourself deflate and your gaze softened. Theo and his father had never been on the best terms and ever since his mother died they drifted apart even more. Suddenly his attitude made sense and you felt the guilt seep into your senses.
“Turns out his urgent matter was that he found himself another potential wife. Some poor woman to endure his torture and he wanted to happily announce it to his son. He burnt all of my mother’s belongings and if I hadn’t stopped him he would’ve gotten rid of her grave as well.” Theo scoffed bitterly and you saw the way he was trying to stop the tears from falling. “That bastard calls himself my father but not once in his life has he ever cared about me.”
A heavy silence enveloped the both of you as you sat not uttering a word. You knew that he had always struggled with the strained relationship with his family. The death of his mother had resulted in Theo being distraught for weeks as he relived the nightmare whenever he closed his eyes.
“I’m not going back there. I’m never setting foot in that house ever again.”
You placed your hand on his shoulder as you tried to offer some sort of comfort. His eyes locked with yours and you saw how his tears glistened as they fell silently. You felt ropes tighten around your heart and you squeezed his shoulder gently. It had been a long time since you saw Theodore Nott cry. It was a rare sight but that was what made it that much more painful.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” You whispered. “I honestly…I’m so sorry Theo. He really doesn’t deserve a son like you. You’re incredible, you know that? You might be irritating and loud and downright infuriating at times but he doesn’t deserve you because you’re amazing Theodore Nott. And, Merlin, if I’m saying that then it must mean a lot because we both know my word is golden.”
You offered him a small smile and your heart warms when you see one tug at his lips too. He looked away for a second and you saw his eyes land on your bandaged hand and he winced.
“I really am sorry for messing up our potion. I didn’t mean what I said, you’re a brilliant witch Y/n, you always have been. I was just being a prat, I’m really sorry.”
“It’s fine, it’s honestly nothing bad. My hand will probably already be back to normal, I heal quickly you know.” You paused as your smile faltered and you chose your next words carefully. “If…if you don’t want to return to your house, you can always go to someone else's.”
Theo chuckled as he shook his head. “No one is going to accept me into their house without turning me into my father.”
“I will.”
Silence. Theo looked at you, confusion clear on his face but your gaze was strong and he could tell you had meant what you had said. You felt yourself flush at his stare and you realised your hand was still on his shoulder and you quickly removed it.
“Accept you into my house I mean. My parents love you and you know they haven’t been on good terms with your father ever since what happened. We would be more than willing to take you in.” You watched as his face contorted into expressions that you couldn’t formulate. “That is if you promise not to fill my bathtub with toads again.”
Laughter fell from his lips, cascading like a melody. He lifted his hands to wipe away his tears that had been streaking down his face. His eyes no longer held the blank emotionless look but rather a certain warmth that you had missed seeing. Your grin widened upon hearing the sound and you found yourself joining in.
“At least you look pretty-”
Your words were cut off abruptly as Theo leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a sudden and unexpected kiss. You froze, unable to comprehend what exactly was happening as disbelief rippled through your body. His hands found their way at the back of your neck and you feel his thumb caress your cheek tenderly. You were still in shock when he pulled away and the last few words of the sentence you were about to say tumbled out of your mouth.
“-when you cry…”
You blinked as your mind tried to grapple at what had just happened. Theodore Nott had just kissed you. Theodore Nott, the boy you had despised since you were five, had just kissed you. He kissed you. Kissed…you. Immediately, your body erupted into flames and you felt your face flush hot at how close the both of you were.
“Your body temperature has risen extremely quickly.” Theo teased and you felt yourself grow even hotter.
“Shut it.”
“Like you’re actually a human radiator.” He continued undeterred by your glare.
“Nott if you don’t want to lose your head I would advise you to shut up.”
Theo grinned and you felt your heart stutter at the sight. “Oh so now I’m back to being Nott? What happened to Theo?” He said his name in a high pitched croon in an attempt to mock your voice and you smacked the backside of his head which only encouraged his laughter.
“You’re actually going to be the death of me.” You groaned as you slumped back down the bed, pulling the covers over your face as a feeble attempt to hide yourself from the pretty Slytherin.
Theo poked your arm and you peeked out to find him staring at you with a bright grin on his face.
"Don't worry." He reassured you, his voice light and teasing. "I'll make sure to stay by your side forever and ever, like a blood-sucking parasite."
“How romantic.” You drawled as you rolled your eyes, trying to maintain a facade of annoyance as you retreated under the covers once more.
“Aren’t I just?”
You ignored Theo’s playful whines for you to let him see your face. Your heart threatened to break out of your chest as you tried to calm yourself down. But even so, you were unable to stop the grin that spread across your face. Maybe, just maybe, forever wouldn't be so bad with Theodore Nott by your side.
#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott imagines#theo nott imagine#theodore nott imagine#theo nott x reader#theodore nott fluff#theo nott x y/n#theo nott x you#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott x you#slytherin boys#slytherin boys x reader#theodore nott smut#theo nott smut
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@beezonia comes up with such amazing concepts and designs! My Pokémon Black and White hyperfixation has been reignited…
#I hope the colours match what you had in mind!#This sunset picture was taken from my own window hehe 🌅#miraculous ladybug#miraculous mons au#adrien agreste#felix graham de vanily#senticousins#marinette dupain cheng#tikki#nathalie sancoeur#mayura#<- Sort of?
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Can you do a Lewis Hamilton smau where she is basically like Barbie? I feel like since Barbie is a fashion icon and so is Lewis, it would be a match made in Heaven. I read your pinned post and tried to make a request based on your rules. Sorry if it isn’t good enough
HI BARBIE! HI KEN! [part 1, LH44 smau]
Lewis Hamilton x reader
Masterlist & Hi Barbie! Hi Ken! [part2, LH44 smau]
Summary: Lewis Hamilton is part-time Formula One driver and full-time fashion icon. And so is his girlfriend, Y/N Y/L/N, who's also known as a real life Barbie.
Warnings: None... but a lot of pink XD. Also this story is set in December 2023, so no broken hearts over Lewis going to Ferrari... actually maybe just a little teaser.
Author's Note: Hi Anon! This request is great and thank you so much for it, it definitely is good enough! :) I had fun writing and creating this, even though at the end it's kind of different than what I firstly intended to do. The original idea was to make Y/N very Barbie coded, but at the end I'd say she's Barbie inspired and I focused more on the fashion icon part of the request. Though there's a sweet storyline about why her nickname is Barbie, so I hope you won't be disappointed! :)
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lewishamilton A lot happened in 2023 season and there was also a lot of outfits 🤞🏾✨
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user1 MY GOD THIS MAN IS BEAUTIFUL!
yourusername this was definitely one of my favs 💝
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lewishamilton What can I say... pink is the color of real men 🫶🏾
yourusername but do i still wear it the best?
lewishamilton Of course ma'am
user2 I love them sm 😭
user3 can we talk about the fact they're the best couple ever?!
user4 so sweet🥰
user5 And the fact she's literally the only person he interacts with in the comments...
user6 You are the best Lewis, can't wait for another season 👏
user7 🔥❤️
mercedesamgf1 Did someone say Barbie and Ken?💘
user8 YES
user9 admin you're so real for this... they literally ARE our barbie and ken 🤭
user10 The only question is who is the Barbie and who's the Ken? xd
user11 lol imagine barbie lewis💀
user12 GOAT ⬆️♥️
carmenmmundt Me and goergerussell63 when?
gourgerussell I don't really think pink is my colour...😬
yourusername don't worry honey, if he won't wear pink w you i will 😘
carmenmmundt Oh I knew why you're my favourite Y/N 😘
georgerussell63 No wait I changed my mind darling!!
carmenmmundt Hmm now I'll have to think about it 🤔
georgerussell63 Y/NNNNN
yourusername 😌😚
user13 i love how he always manages to get y/n into his posts
user14 The power boyfriend Lewis has over me😩😩
user15 RIGHT?!
user16 he's just so... asdgsagfsgd 😫
user17 I literally need this version of him to live!!!
user18 i'm weak for bf lewis🥵
user19 Y/N looks SO GOOD in that coat
user20 I need to know how she does it
user21 fr
user22 The best driver and a fashion icon... damn he's got some talent 🙇♂️
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yourusername great season and now it'll be even better winter break w my love 💋💞
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f1 Our own Barbie🤩
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user1 yeeeees
user2 Wait I'm new in formula one, why do we call Lewis Hamilton's gf Babrie??
user3 idk user2 she just gives off the energy 😆
user4 Actually I think Lewis himself once called her Barbie in an interview when there were rumors about them dating and then it just stuck with her 🤷♀️
user5 oh really?!! tbh i had idea he ever called he barbie himself... y/n is just iconic xd
user6 IT'S Y/N'S WORLD AND WE'RE JUST LIVING IN IT 🗣🗣
lewishamilton Can't wait to spend the winter break with you ✨
yourusername *mwah*
user7 pls I'm so excited for them!!
user8 the vacation photo dumps are gonna slay🤭
alexandrasaintmleux stoppp you're so pretty!🎀
yourusername nooo you are alex 🥹🫶
user9 they could never make me hate these two just 'cause they're dating the hottest drivers on the grid🫡
user10 The outfit in the second photo? HELLO?!
kellypiquet 🤍
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charles_leclerc I see you like the Monaco circuit very much👀
yourusername i see you're stalking my photo dumps very carefully charles leclerc 🤨
charles_leclerc Well I have a feeling we'll see each other more often soon so I have to get to know you better😉
this comment has been deleted by charles_leclerc
charles_leclerc Caught in the crime😂
user11 WHAT WAS THAT CHARLES?!
user12 omg I wasn't the only one to see it? I'm not delusional right?🫣
user13 idk what you saw 'cause i didn't but this interaction is so funny to me XD
user14 mommy- sorry... MOTHER
user15 ❣️❣️
user16 y/n & lew >>>>
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yourusername i'm barbie. he's just a ken (and he won some trophy for p3 in the championship... idk where it is) 💖💄
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user1 I live for Lewis leaving the trophy there💀
user2 and the way y/n basically confirmed this by saying she has no idea where it is😭
lewishamilton You're everything. I'm just Ken 🙏🏾✨
yourusername exactly... though you're the best ken ever 💞
sebastianvettel Isn't he more like Allan then?
yourusername ohhh true seb 🤭
user3 YOU WANNA TELL ME THE SEBASTIAN VETTEL SAW BARBIE
yourusername yeah we made him watch it and he cried during gloria's speech 💓
sebastianvettel I'm not ashamed about it.
yourusername and that's why i love u seb 🫶
user4 why aren't all men like sebastian???😩
user5 I love these three with all my heart y'all don't understand
user6 my fav driver watching my fav movie and crying during speech about feminism is my roman empire
user7 AAAHSDFHFGSDHSG😍
f1 If there was a prize for fashion icons, the Hamilton household would definetly win it! 🏆
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user8 not admin calling them hamilton household🥹
user9 Lol that would be the only fairly given trophy this year
user10 OMG I just realized that one day Y/N and Lewis WILL be both HAMILTON😭😭
user11 I'll tattoo the date of their wedding on my arm fr
user12 that's real dedication user11 💀
user13 TRUE DEFINITION OF A QUEEN... LOVE YOUUUUUU
kellypiquet Gorgeous darling!💖💖💖
yourusername we both babeee 💖🫶
user14 the IT wags casually supporting each other
user15 I love they're still friends even though their bfs are probably the biggest rivals xd
user16 not the shade about the trophy💀
user17 Waiiittt what happened?
user18 someone who was at the ceremony said lewis gave him the prize 'cause he didn't want it😭
user17 Oh and Y/N wrote in her caption she doesn't know where it is?
user18 exactly😭
user17 Whoops... I love her, she's queen for that
user19 and the fact fia tried to deny these rumors💀
user20 Absolutely love this look 🤍
user21 you and lew are just such a good looking couple
user22 THE DRESS I REPEAT THE DRESS🥰
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lewishamilton 🇲🇨 with the best company.
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roscoelovescoco Mom's look's so handsome's ☺️☀️
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lewishamilton Agreed
yourusername awww my boys are too sweet 🥹💕
user1 lewis complimenting his gf not w one but TWO accounts makes my heart melt
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user2 I want a man like him🤧
user3 WE LOVE ROSCOE CALLING HER MUM
user4 Lewis, Y/N & Roscoe are the best trio ever🥰
user5 parents and their son
user6 literally omg
yourusername wow who's that handsome boy laying on a couch 🥴😻
lewishamilton Handsome you say?😏
yourusername yeah, right next to u 🥰
lewishamilton Oh no, I should've seen that coming😒
roscoelovescoco Thank's mom's I'm handsome's boy's 😊👅
user7 these interactions give me the will to live
user8 I love the Hamilton family🥺
user9 lol y/n calling roscoe handsome xd
user10 The funniest part about this is that Lewis manages Roscoe's profile😭
user11 omg yes user10 not him playing being offended on his main and then being all sweet as roscoe...
user12 Love forever ❤️
user13 Y/N is so beautiful I can't believe my own eyes
user14 the two belong together forever 🙌🫶♾️💫
user15 fr
user16 If they ever break up I'll stop believing on love
mercedesamgf1 Mr. & Mrs. Mercedes
user17 pls give him decent car in 2024 to win another championship🙏
user18 The most iconic couple in history of motorsport 💅
user19 ❤️😍
user20 what's Ferrari doing in the likes?🤨
user21 lol calm down... he's literally lewis hamilton🤣
user22 No but it's weird... they never like other team's things
user23 and after the rumors during monaco gp too 🥸🥸
user24 I think this photo dump caused global warming... like daaammmnnn they're both so fine 🥵
user25 let's just say roscoe isn't the only one calling them mommy and daddy-
user26 lmao
user26 but true🫢
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yourusername barbie has a great day everyday... especially when she gets pink mercedes she wanted 🛍🤍
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lewishamilton Seems like Ken is good for something
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yourusername maybeeee
lewishamilton You want pink Ferrari too, don't you?
yourusername ☺️☺️
user1 ohhh to have a man like that
user2 OMG LEWIS PLS GET HER PINK FERRARI
user3 Yeah, Y/N will slay in that car😌
user4 i wanna be barbie too if she gets pink mercedes
user5 but first you'll need to have a ken like lewis hamilton
francisca.cgomes this barbie is so prettyyyy
yourusername love u! 💓
user6 Okay okay I NEED the bikini😫😍
user7 QUEEN
user8 Y/N looking gorgeous like always🫶🏼
user9 gold digger alert!!!!🤮
user10 Girl go away, you clearly know nothing about their relationship xd
user11 jealousy alert!!!
user12 the first pic does something to me 😩
user13 The most beautiful woman ever
user14 Lewis won lottery w her
user15 yes she's literally so pretty and they seem so happy together🥰
user16 fr I don't think I've seen him this happy before
user17 yeah he looks so much calmer and even younger when y/n is with him at event and gps...🥹
user18 Plus the OUTFITS?! I love them sm
user19 Where is Lewis 🙂?
user20 c'mmon he doesn't have to be in every post she makes🙄
user21 stunning as always 💘
user22 SLAYING AS ALWAYS
twitter
Y/N’s interview
photo 1: Y/N: How did you and Lewis meet?
Y/F/N: Oh, you guys'll love the story!
photo 2: Y/N: It was actually in a toy store. Lew was there with his niece and I was there because... [laughs] Let's say I still like to collect dolls and lego, sue me.
photo 3: Y/N: Anyway, Lew's niece saw me, thought I'm a real life Barbie and wanted to say hi. [laughs] It was honestly so sweet that I didn't have the heart to tell her I'm just a normal girl.
photo 4: Y/F/N: So does she still think you're Barbie? [laughs]
Y/N: Yeah, I think so... She calls me Auntie Barbie! [laughs too]
photo 5: Y/N: But back to Lewis - I didn't recognize him and just thought he's really cute. We talked for few minutes, though then I had to leave and didn't have the courage to ask for his number.
photo 6: Y/N: But few days later he followed me on Instagram and I was just like - yes!
Lewis’ interview
Interviewer: Lewis, you recently followed a known influencer and model on Instagram. Is there something going on between the two of you?
Lewis: Are you talking about Barbie? Oh, shoot, sorry... [laughs] I mean Y/N?
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yourusername aesthetic life w the best man, cute son and lots of flowers 🌸💖
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roscoelovescoco I got's mom's the's flowers's 😊🌷
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yourusername thx roscoe baby!! 🫶 guess daddy will have to learn from you 😌🤍
user1 ... are we gonna talk about the fact y/n just called lewis daddy?
yourusername ... no please don't, you know what i meant 😭🙈
user2 Too late Y/N, the twitter girlies are going to go nuts about this (me included)
landonorris Awww look at that grumpy little dude 🥺
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pierregasly Mate are you calling the seven world time champion grumpy little dude?🤣
user3 lando tf-
user4 This is so funny for no reason😭
user5 Lewis being called grumpy little dude wasn't what I expected from this winter break tbh
landonorris ROSCOE
landonorris I WAS TALKING ABOUT ROSCOE GUYS
user6 💀💀
pierregasly Lol
yourusername why did you even think it was about lewis peirregasly ??🧐
landonorris YEAH MR. TRIPOD TELL US
pierregasly Goodbye...👋
user7 u and lew are so sweet
user8 MOTHER IS MOTHERING 😍
alexandrasaintmleux Shining like a star✨💖
yourusername and you're my sun ☀️💖
user9 I want a man who gives me so many flowers!!!
user10 yeah and they're beautiful and tasteful too
lewishamilton So lucky to have you darling! 🫧🫶🏾
liked by the author
yourusername we're both so lucky lew 💗🫶
user11 and i'm lucky i was born in the same century as you so i can witness this love
user12 I LOVE Y/N & LEWIS🥰
user13 I'll ask again... When is he going to put a ring on it? 💍 C'mon Lewis you obviously love her sm
user14 Your guys love is so special ❤️
user15 if this is the content we'll be getting during winter break, i don't think i want it to end
user16 races are great... but boyfriend material lewis hamilton is better🤤
user17 REAL
THE END
Author's Note: Hi and thank you for reading! I'll be glad for likes, reblogs, comments, follows and any other ways of support. PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT PART 2! I really enjoyed this version of Lewis and Y/N... and perhaps I have a lot of pictures that unfortunately didn't make it to the story because picture limit isn't very friendly. Love you and have a great day! :)
#f1 fanfic#fanfiction#formula 1#formula one#couple#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#fanfic#reading#x reader#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton#lh44#lh44 x reader#mercedes#ferrari#barbie#writing#sir lewis hamilton#f1 smau#smau#social media au#social media fic#social media
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an eternity, my love
eep! this is a bit longer than the last at just over 6k forgive me... but thank so much for all love on the first piece 🥹 and thank u for all your lovely ideas! i hope this does sum justice to the nonnie who asked for further miscommuncation... <3 part one here but u don’t need to read it to read this :)
How does one even begin to decide what to wear to dinner with a person, the person, who matched your soul perfectly?
When your friend had hunted her way through clothing stores of Velaris and stashed away a custom dress — far fancier than anything you owned — for the first date with her mate, you had laughed at her.
Now, staring at your closet in only your undergarments, you were beginning to envy her preparation.
Seriously, how are you supposed to choose?
You pick up your latest addition to your closet, a glossy dress the colour of red wine that reveals the length of your legs and planes of your collarbones— perfect for a night out dancing.
With a grimace, you place it back on the hanger. It was far more scandalous than you would want to be on a first date, even though — well, you’re sure that, being mates, Azriel would like anything you wore.
You heave a sigh. An uneasy prickle beneath your skin has you crossing your arms; it was almost alarming how badly you wanted to impress him. But… mating bonds were rare and powerful.
Almost as if you had summoned it — in fact, maybe you had — there’s a soft shimmer in your chest. Your beautiful glow, the bridge between you and Azriel humming to life. In a way you can’t explain, it’s as though you can feel him soothe across your mind, his soft touch full of assurances.
He’s comforting you. All your emotions must be shooting down the bond without your permission. Gods, that would take some getting used to. You wonder if he can feel your resounding pang of embarrassment as well.
You do your best to push back something less nervous, more of your excitement for the night to come — and you know, without even seeing him, he’s smiling.
After another moment of fussing, you decide on something simpler than your glossy night dress.
Comfortable black slacks with plenty of flow to them and a shirt you thought was one of your nicer ones. With the slightest touch ups to your makeup, you rush yourself out the door before you convince yourself to change all over again.
The Sidra keeps you company, a rush of water beside you as you wind through the streets of Velaris, eyes flicking up to take in the darkening sky. The sun was sinking below the mountain tops, rays tickling across the ridges.
And while you could admit that Velaris was very beautiful in the daytime, you were a true Night court citizen— and believed its true beauty came out at night.
Somehow, despite the lack of concrete plans made as you had ushered the male out of your office, you knew resolutely that you would be able to find him. You weren’t even worried about the timing of it all. It was… what was the word? Absurd. Insane. Utterly, breathtakingly incredible.
Sure enough, as you exit the alley and round the corner, your eyes falling on the sage green building you reside in for work, there he is; waiting for you.
You inhale a sharp breath. A thousand cells in your body fizz, hum, and glow, at the mere sight of him.
It's easy to understand just how he had garnered his dark reputation, the image of him every bit of the Spymaster of the Night Court — a title like Shadowsinger has never been so fitting for him.
He’s blurred at the edges, a thousand tiny wisps that blend him into the shadows of the nighttime. His wings stretch up behind, towering over his already tall frame, black as ink, and beneath his darkened attire, you can spot his tan skin. Your eyes drag up his neck, tracing his adam's apple, along the scruff of his sharp jaw until you reach his hazel eyes.
Your heart burns.
In the depth of it, you know, if he doesn't love you, he will undo you completely.
It's wholly terrifying to come face to face with — the intensity of the mating bond scorching through your mind like a fierce wind, burning embers left in its wake.
It's enough to make you pause, the definitive thought that doing this, offering him your heart and trusting him, could very well lead to your ruin.
Your chest squeezes tightly. You let your eyes drink in the Illyrian, the Male who waited so patiently for all those years and was prepared to wait years more, if you had asked.
Focusing, you pluck up that golden thread in your chest and hold it tightly. It heats and melts, hotter and hotter, and you know that any fear you have, you can conquer to be with him.
Ruination be damned.
—
Azriel notices you the moment your frame exits the alley, notices the moment you pause — has been able to feel you drawing nearer to him this whole time. Your every emotion is transparent to him through the bond between you, whether you’re aware of it or not.
You must not have the tightened mental shields he had come to be so familiar with over all his years. It makes sense; you are no warrior. Mental walls over your mind are not something you have ever had to concern yourself with.
Azriel vows it to be one of the things he teaches you. You deserved the privacy of your emotions, at the very least.
But... for now, Azriel can feel them all. It's why, as you round the corner, Azriel can feel your eyes on him and then, then he feels it.
The wash of fear that spills over your bond like icy water.
An old enemy rises within him. He grits his teeth, even as he feels the fear from you slide away and he tries to ignore the sting from an unhealed wound. But self-deprecation never seems to drown, no matter how much he tries to suffocate it within him.
He shifts his hands, relieved suddenly to have them covered up beneath gloves. His wings tuck in tighter, if possible, and he wills his shadows sternly to contain themselves. Something in the slightest baring of his teeth has them obeying. They shoot to his sides and make themselves scarce.
All this in time to greet you pleasantly as you bounce into view, sidling up before him with a shy grin. It's only been a few hours since he got his proper look at you and yet, you're every bit as breathtaking as you were earlier. More so, in fact.
It feels as though Azriel has never seen the sky before and you before him, are the first sunset of his life. You look so pretty that Azriel could probably gaze at you all evening if you so allowed him to.
And then, he remembers the pang of fear.
He doesn't waste time mulling over which detail of him had made you afraid — only that he would dim or change or hide any part of himself to stop it from happening again.
"Hello, again," You say, your lips pressed together to contain your smile. You have to tilt your head back to look up at his handsome face. His shadows swirl around him and despite his strict instructions, one still slips away to touch you.
You don't notice it circling your ankle, tentative and shy.
"Hello, again." Azriel echoes your words, unable to help his own glimmer of joy.
He wants to offer you his arm, his hand. Can feel it within him, down to the very marrow of his bones, the craving to be closer to you, to touch you, however he can.
Azriel swallows heavily and does what he has done over decades, over centuries; he takes the wanting and pushes it down, down, down.
The two of you begin to walk, side by side, with no destination in mind. Aimless and content at the same time.
Azriel doesn't need the bond to see the flittering of nerves hidden in your expression. The shadow still circulating around your ankle climbs higher, like it wants to comfort you too.
Azriel wills it to still, desperate to not scare you again. He drops his shoulders from his usual warrior posture in hopes of making himself a little smaller.
“You don’t need to be nervous.” He says reassuringly.
You steal a glimpse at him, your smile breaking into a grin. Your nerves are still potent but less so.
“Who says I’m nervous?”
Azriel smiles gently, his eyes dancing across your face as he reads your lie easily. “I do."
There's a scrunch between your eyebrows then, like he had seen during his time in your office earlier. Azriel places a hand on his chest, over the place where the glowing tug is strongest.
"I can feel it.”
Your eyes widen slightly as you stare at his gloved hand, the cogs in your brain spinning and turning at a rapid rate. Still strolling, your hand rises slowly and touches to the same spot on your own chest. Azriel can feel his heart stutter at the sight, you holding the spot that connected you to him undeniably.
"You can?" Your gaze lifts to his face, puzzlement adorning your features. You frown and focus for a moment, staring hard into the distance — and Azriel feels a sudden twinge of disgust through the thread.
"Did you feel that?" You ask, eyes wide and curious.
Azriel nods wordlessly and he can't help but ask. "What is it you were thinking of?"
You look embarrassed for a moment, eyes averting to the ground. You chuckle awkwardly and tuck your hair behind your ears, glancing back up at the Male with a sheepish smile.
"Brussels sprouts."
Azriel blinks once, twice, and then has to turn to hide his smile. He tries to cover his laugh with a cough. It doesn't work, given how you make a small noise of indignation. He turns back, his politest expression on.
"Don't laugh at me!" You whine, reaching out to poke him in the shoulder. Your touch radiates through his body like a drop of golden sun, blazing warm.
"You're right," Azriel hums, his lips twitching as he presses back his smile. "My apologies, my lady. This is important knowledge I should be filing away. I swear on my life I will feed you no brussels sprouts this evening, or any in the future."
He wants to nudge your shoulder with his own, just to touch you, wants to reach out as easily as you had. But his shadows slip before his self-control does, skittering out along onto your shoulder and giving you a small shock and Azriel remembers himself. His fists clench tightly at his sides.
You walk side by side all evening, like two planets in orbit — close, oh so close, but never quite touching.
—
The first date you share is nothing short of… wonderful.
Resolutely and overwhelming good, the entire date you can't help but feel as though your very soul is singing, a thousand particles blithesome at the nearness you get to share with Azriel. He's surprising in a manner of ways.
Firstly, he's terribly quiet.
Next to him, you look quite the blabber-mouth, no matter how much he insists he enjoys it. His dark eyes are intense as they watch you closely, soaking in every word that passes your lips, and yet, beneath it, his dry sense of humour comes out to play. There's the occasional tease, almost as if just to see if he could make you flustered. (He could, easily).
With a Male as beautiful as him, suited to your very being in every way, it's nearly unbearable how much you ache for him. How much his very attention creeps down your neck and makes every nerve along your spine tingle.
You know it will take some time to get used to his unwavering and devoted attention.
There’s… just one small, itty-bitty, tiny problem.
He doesn’t touch you.
Throughout that whole first evening, you had noticed it somewhat— a flex in his gloved hands, a moment where his wing strayed too close only to be pulled back in a flash, even his shadows, darting out to be near you but never quite touching you as they had on that first meeting.
His hands reach out but they do not find you.
At first, you believed it was a first date thing. Azriel was, first and foremost, a gentleman, and you thought perhaps, his skirting touch, like his hand lingering over the small of your back but not touching it, was to be polite. Courteous and gracious.
Then, you had seen him just two days after that date, all bundled up in your giddiness that it had managed to slip your mind.
The two of you had spent the day together, traversing through the market — before you quickly found a quieter space for your mate as it became clear that large bustling areas, such as the Palace of Threads and Jewels, were not so suited to his tastes.
As you had tugged him out of the crowd, laughing over your shoulder at how he fought to keep his broad wings from knocking into anyone else, the thought suddenly snapped back into you.
Though you yearned to link his arm with your own, to interlace your fingers with his, you remembered his hesitance. Remembered the hover of his gloved hand.
And so, you dropped his arm the moment you cleared the crowd.
A hurt warbled deep within you to so do and knowing you were not the deftest at schooling your expressions, you hid your face so you could contain your childish reactions. You huffed at your own upset. What matter is it if your mate has no affinity to touch?
Truly, it was a miracle to have found a mate at all, you tried to scold yourself. You would not take him for granted for a moment, not even if it was not quite the picture of perfection you had envisioned.
Rooted deep in you was a truth; you could abide by this, abstain to his level of comfort for years, for millennia, if it made him happier.
The fabric of the mating bond, connecting the two of you intrinsically, made it so you would not want it any other way.
It's a decidedly Azriel thing.
He always wears the gloves, he never touches you more than he has to, and he's got... this really specific look when you're doing a terrible job of hiding your emotions.
As he had vowed, Azriel had set about teaching you how to build the mental walls up within your mind, brick by brick by brick. While it would help you hold against daemati if that loathsome situation should ever arise, it would also shield you from your mate.
It would protect you from having your emotions ripped out for him to see, no matter how much you held back — if it was in your mind, it would travel down the bond.
So, the wall had to be built. It had been tedious, tricky, and tiring work. Yet every time you would feel yourself ready to throw in the towel, Azriel would lean in closer, his hazel eyes softened, and his hand resting upon your arm, thumb swatching up and down, to encourage you.
"I know it is tiresome," He had mused, that faint smile twitching at his lips as you scowled at the ground. His thumb was still moving, still drawing light circles on your bicep. The skin beneath it blazed with warmth. "But it is worth it, that I can promise. You deserve this privacy, my dear. I would never wish to take it from you."
My dear, my dear, my dear— the words had sunk into your sternum and bloomed, bright and golden.
It's enough to hold onto, his kind affections. The sweet shape of his mouth when it says your name. The way his lashes kiss in the corner when he can't hold back his smile.
It's enough to soothe yourself over. To take the lack of touch on the chin and swallow down your desire for more.
It's why— why you can't help yourself— why you couldn't tear your eyes away from Azriel's hand where it touches Cassian's arm.
You're meeting his family today, which you've quickly realised doesn't mean his mother or father but instead means... the literal Highlord of the Night Court.
There are several warriors crowded around the cramped entrance room to the River House. Each of them is taller than you, and two of them with the very same huge wingspans that you've come to revere on your own mate.
Your usual talkativeness has been dimmed in your shock, though, really, it shouldn't be such a surprise. Azriel is a force to be reckoned with, honed over decades, and the Spymaster of the Night Court. You know these things. The company he keeps makes sense.
Somehow... still, seeing them all together leaves you strikingly speechless. The legion that protects your home — a family.
Rhysand greets you first, dapper in his dark attire, his violet eyes equal parts calculating and welcoming as he steps forward and offers his hand.
Despite the fact you have never bowed to him before, you still have to repress the urge. His power is overwhelming, the very night lapping at his edges and you're suddenly very grateful to be meeting him as a friend and not as a foe.
"It's a pleasure to meet you," Rhysand's voice purrs out, soft as silk. When you place your hand in his, he brings it to his lips and presses a polite kiss to the back of your hand.
"Any friend of Azriel's is a friend of mine."
You can feel your own heart thundering in your chest. Azriel hovers behind you, his presence soothing in itself. You can't see it but his wings are outstretched towards you, cocooning around you ever so slightly. A shadow hovers behind your shoulder, just out of sight.
"I— the pleasure is mine, my Highlord." You manage to make yourself speak.
You almost wish you hadn't when your words inspire a burst of laughter from one of the others behind Rhysand, the other Illyrian. He's tall, his hair dark but longer than your mate's own.
As your hand is dropped, Rhysand turns to scowl at the Male laughing, and you only grow further perplexed when he gives a whack against the other's shoulder. They begin to squabble for a moment — and you don't even hear Azriel move until he's speaking, his lips right by your ear.
"You'll have to forgive Cassian." His voice is low, raspy in a way that sends a zing down your spine. You shiver lightly. "He can be well-mannered at the best of times. But I promise he isn't laughing at you."
The two Males seem to tune back into Azriel's words, even though they had been whispered for you specifically.
"It's true!" The Illyrian, Cassian you now know, pipes up. He brandishes a devilishly handsome grin at you, with his hands held up in defense. "I apologise. It just still makes me laugh to see someone address this one so formally."
You blink. "But... he is the Highlord."
Azriel speaks again, bent over still to talk in your ear, but much less of a whisper this time. "Rhys is our Highlord but he does not bother with such formalities."
"And," Cassian interjects, lugging a punch into Rhy's shoulder, much like the other had done to him not a moment before. "Before he was the o'mighty Highlord, he was our friend."
Cassian says the word o'mighty with such an air of sarcasm that you can't help but glance at Rhys, sure he wouldn't take such disrespect. But around you, there are only easy grins.
"Might we move to somewhere more comfortable than the doorway," Azriel speaks up from behind you, his voice dry. "Unless that is, you're all hoping to do one-on-one greetings with her?"
There it is, the dry sense of humour you've come to adore. The group before you seems to grumble, as if they were quite keen on the one-on-one meetings but begin to move through the house.
One of the group dips back to walk beside you and you do your best not to repeat your past mistakes, even as your eyes widen almost comically. Azriel chuckles silently to himself, feeling your polite astonishment down the bond.
"It's so great to finally meet you.” Feyre, your Highlady greets you, her pretty face rife with glee. She seems genuinely very happy to make your acquaintance. "Azriel has told me all about you."
You stumble in surprise, your eyes casting back to Azriel behind the pair of you. His eyes are fixed on Feyre, narrowed at her blatant betrayal, his shadows swirling around him. She sticks her tongue out at him playfully and you smother a laugh.
When his eyes shift over to you, you're positively delighted at how his cheeks have turned the lightest shade of ruby.
"Feyre is very persuasive when she wants to be." He murmurs, almost grumbling. You turn back to the Highlady and she grins at you, devious and captivating all at once.
It’s a whirlwind once you reach one of the many living rooms, each member of Azriel’s family all very eager to shake your hand.
Cassian grips it firm, his grin still on the side of wicked as he tells you he’s been waiting years to find the woman who could contain Azriel. Nesta, his mate as you find out, is a fierce kind of pretty with a grip as strong as Cassian’s. She tells you welcome to the family with the smile of a shark.
Morrigon is next, breathtakingly gorgeous, and every bit as charismatic as Azriel had described. You don't catch the glimpse between Mor and Cassian, not the beat of relief they both feel at your arrival in their lives— in Azriel's life.
It's swallowed up in her words, going a mile a minute. She jumps about, like popcorn in a pan, overly keen to finally speak to the one whom the Mother deemed worthy of Azriel’s heart. Where are you from? What do you do? How did you meet?
“Mor,” Azriel warns, after her twelfth consecutive question about your life. He hasn’t moved from his protective position behind you, close enough you can feel the heat of his body. His wings had brushed your shoulder just once.
“Yeah, Mor,” Rhys jeers. He nudges his cousin in the side playfully and Cassian snickers behind the group. “Give the girl some time to breathe.”
Even with all of Azriel's masterclass on who you would be meeting, it's still terribly overwhelming just trying to keep track of them all. They're each such strong spirits, each with seemingly a thousand battles in their past and far more years with Azriel.
On top of this is the fact you met both your Highlord and Highlady so casually in one single afternoon. It's difficult to not be daunted by the group that is so clearly intertwined with each other on a deeper level altogether— bonded by devastation and choosing each other through love.
Try as you might, you can feel the seed of doubt, of insecurity, make a home between your ribs.
You clamp down the shields you've spent the last few weeks learning, building the wall up and holding it tight. It's silly to feel dismayed because these Fae, these friends, know your mate better than you do.
Azriel had told you he had been waiting for you for five hundred years. For the first time since you've met him, you wonder if he was ever disappointed.
And then— then, you see it.
Azriel's hand on Cassian's arm. Then the half embrace they share, a hand on each other's neck as Cassian grins, wild and fierce, and presses his forehead against Azriel's own; brothers, sharing a moment of euphoria at the other finding his long-deserved happiness.
You should be soaking in the smile Azriel hides from you too often, showing his teeth and crinkling his eyes. But instead, you can't see past it, can't stop the loop in your own mind as it prints a fact over and over and over.
It isn't an Azriel thing; it's a you thing.
He doesn't touch you.
The mental walls in your mind feel paper-thin as a fresh kind of agony ripples through your chest. The soft rejection of a mate stings, a papercut on your very heart. You can feel it warble through you and know, terribly, the exact moment that Azriel feels it too.
His head whips around, his dark shadows that surround him suddenly spinning and flitting faster than before— a couple dive across the room to you.
You stand up and the chair scrapes noisily beneath you.
"I—" You say before you realise you haven't planned an exit or an excuse in the slightest. Azriel's gaze burns into you. You turn to Feyre instead, who had been talking across from you when you rudely stood up.
"I'm so sorry, I just—" Some excuse, any excuse! "I think I— left the stove on."
It's a lie. A complete utter lie that fools no one in the room as you retreat from it hastily. None of them try to stop you though, which you're thankful for. Each of them watches, every expression slightly concerned as you hurry out of the room, your feet walking backward rapidly until you bump into the door frame.
You pass through it with your eyes on the floor, knowing that all of the eyes are on you. You know the ones you can feel searing into your soul are Azriel's.
You leave the River House. You walk along the Sidra, your steps hurried and your chin tucked low. It hurts. It hurts the feeling inside you. A tear streaks down your cheek, unbidden, and collects on your jaw. You wipe it away meanly.
The sight of your apartment door is an overwhelming comfort, one that has you sighing aloud as you rush up to it, your fingers already digging around in your pockets for your key.
And like always, you never hear him coming.
"What happened?" Azriel asks, his voice almost pained.
You give a little yelp of surprise and whip around, remembering half a second later that there's still evidence on your face of your tears. Azriel grows characteristically still, his hazel eyes fixed on yours as you sniffle for a moment, aggravation beginning to creep in.
He could feel everything from you and you got... what? Whatever he deemed fit to offer? How is that fair?
His usually wispy shadows are inkier than usual, almost tornado-ing around his shoulders. They keep leaping out towards you before being caught in an invisible net, a barrier between you and them.
Even as Azriel remains motionless, his eyes are the opposite—they jump around, searching, hunting, begging to find the cause of your pain. Had it been one of his friends?
"Please," He tries his words again.
His heart throbs painfully when you finally find your key and turn your back on him without a word, unlocking your door and pressing your way inside. He follows quickly, wings tucked in tight, unable to keep his shadows at his side this time. They whiz to you, circling your ankles protectively.
"Please," Azriel says, an anguished growl to his words. "What hurt you? I will— my friends, if they said something— if it was someone, I hunt them down and make it right for you."
You inhale sharply and when you speak, your tone is cold in a way you have never used before with Azriel. You say the words without thinking.
"It would be impossible to hunt yourself, Azriel."
Regret howls through you like a hurricane the moment you say the words. You don't mean to be mean, jealous, or whatever unseemly emotion you can't stop from sprouting in your chest, growing in size, tangling into your heartstrings like twisted gnarled vines. It hurts.
You turn back to him, mouth open. No words come out.
Hurt is slashed across his face, his eyebrows furrowed tightly, his shadows tucked in tight. It's as though he's blended into the very air, the wispy edge of him threatening to retreat into his own shadows.
All his emotions on display just for a moment, before they're schooled away. Tucked away, hidden, not for you to see.
Inside, your hurricane howls again, this time in pain.
You can tell he feels it, even as you mentally gather your bricks. It isn't fair. How can he have every bit of you and you get what he pleases to return?
You want to know him completely, want to see every part of his rugged, weathered soul, and love him anyway. It's an untold type of agony to have him deny you.
"My love," His feet finally move, his wings almost dragging on the floor as he steps forward, slowly, as though he was afraid he might spook you.
"Tell me how to fix this pain." He pleads. His gloved hands are held out, palms up and suddenly, he looks nothing like a warrior. Just a Male, afraid of losing what is most dear to him. You shake your head, like a child, and keep building your brick wall.
"Please don’t keep this from me," He takes another step forward, his shadows sent awry as they dart across to you. You can feel them on your calves, on your arms, feel the tiny kisses they leave. Azriel speaks again, voice low. "My love, I can feel your pain.”
You can't help how you screw your eyes closed, the ache in your chest unbearable— made worse when you know he can feel it too.
"That is my problem." You utter the words quietly, eyes still clenched shut, knowing he can hear you. He takes another step, close enough now that you can feel the heat of his enormous frame, his wings bracketing around you. "I cannot hide anything from you."
Azriel makes a noise, a punched-out wounded sound that reverberates down the bond.
"My love," He murmurs for the third time. Down the bond, you can feel his sweet love, his golden gentle feelings travelling along to assure you. "I would not wish for you to hide anything from me."
“But you hide everything from me." You whine, eyes finally crinkling open. Azriel stares down at you, his eyes softer than they've ever been. You can see the hurt swimming in them, the hurt you've caused. Still, you speak.
"You hide your emotions. You hide your touch, yet you give it willingly to your friends." You share each ugly thought with him, whispered as you gaze into his face to search for your answers.
Lifting your hands, you curl your fingers around his wrists tentatively. Azriel swallows heavily, his eyes dancing down to where you're touching him. You slide your hands forward, dragging the pads of your fingers over his pulse, along his palm, til your hands are holding his gloved ones.
"Is there some test I don't know about?" You ask, your focus on your intertwined hands. "Is there— do I have to earn this?"
"No," Azriel chokes out the word suddenly. You look up at him. He clears his throat and you feel his hands grip yours back, surer and stronger than you had. "No, I'm sorry. There is no test, nothing to prove you deserving of this. I just..."
His words trail off and you watch as he closes his eyes, inhaling deeply, as if gathering his courage. His hands slide from yours, pulled backward and you nearly feel the urge to cry once more— before you realise he's removing his gloves.
The skin of them is warped, you realise acutely with horror. The skin of his hands is swirled and mottled, an injury long healed but scarred for eternity. Azriel is watching your face closely, holding his hands close to his chest as though he was prepared to hide them away at the first flicker of fear.
You're grateful for the link between and all your shoddy attempts at blocking him out. Your love and your unwavering devotion drifts along the bond.
Azriel shudders, his wings giving the tiniest shiver. Slowly, gently, he reaches out towards you. You feel his hands, the unruly scarred feel of his skin sliding along your jaw to hold it tenderly. He has never held you like this before.
He cradles your face gently — like his hands have never held weapons of war, like they aren't twisted and marred with a memory he can't forget, like they're worthy of holding something so precious.
Azriel holds you as if you're holy — and he's come to kneel at your altar.
"I was afraid of what you would think." He admits. His voice is hoarse, gravelly as he fights off the lump in his throat. "I— on the first day we met, I felt your fear along the bond and—"
"It was not of you." You interrupt him, your hands jumping up to cover his own where they hold you. Azriel inhales sharply, eyes darting to watch.
But you pay him no heed, the palm of your hand covering his like a lover would. You let your thumb soothe up at down the ridges of his skin. You let your love ripple along the bond.
"It was not fear of you, Azriel." You repeat, your voice soft. His eyes are still fixed on your joined hands. His wings have begun to pick up, no longer drooping behind his back— you're not sure if he even notices.
"It was fear for how strongly I already felt for you." You lean into his hand and Azriel lets you, lets the length of your nose nuzzle into the touch of his hands — something no one in all his years of living had ever done before.
"It was fear that you already could ruin me," The words are murmured. "And that I would let you."
You whisper his name to pull his wide-eyed gaze from where his hands touch you and his hazel eyes burn into yours. Every whitened scar on his skin, every eyelash, the adorable pinch between his eyebrows; you drink it all in and smile at him. Azriel, your mate.
"Azriel, I chose this despite that fear. I choose you.”
Azriel quivers at the words, at your unflinching tone and suddenly the world seems such a perfect place, time moving around you, untouching, with such a perfect grace.
“I choose you too,” He murmurs, an emotion so strong a fire of possessiveness streaks down the bond. This time, you can feel his wall melt away, allowing you access to all he feels — his mountain of fear and his melting relief.
“Forgive me—” He begins and you laugh without meaning to, cutting him off.
“Stop,” you say, the word light and as pretty as your grin. “We keep doing this to ourselves, tying ourselves in knots over and over.”
Azriel laughs, his lips twitching into a smile as he allows himself to stroke his thumb lovingly over your cheek. The way you melt beneath it, your lashes fluttering and heart burning so brightly he can feel it in his own chest too— Azriel knows this longing will long outlive his body.
“We do,” He agrees. He dips his head a little lower, probably the only apology you’ll let him have, and inhales shakily. His hands shift across your face, down to hold your chin, his fingers pressed together tightly to hide the way they quiver.
“Then let me apologise in another way,” He murmurs, his voice closer to playful. “In a way I’ve been selfishly depriving you of.”
And when he kisses you, it’s with a reverence that softens all your corners.
His lips are plush and sweet, and with the way he dedicates himself to your bottom lip, you can’t help how you sigh into his mouth. He finds home in the curve of your mouth.
It’s delirious the way he kisses once, twice, three times like he’s hungry for something found only in your lips.
Your hands stagger forward, leaving his own to wind over around his neck. Your fingers curl up, raking through the hair on the nape of his neck — feeling the shiver that travels up his spine, his wings giving a little flare out.
He kisses you breathless, one hand abandoning your jaw to wrap snugly around your waist, bringing you closer to him.
When he pulls back, something within you glows molten gold at the panting that leaves his lips. He’s gazing at you, his hazel eyes alight in a way you haven’t quite seen before. His wings shift behind his shoulders, curling forward to wrap the two of you together, not quite touching.
Your heart thrills. You grin, your lips still just an inch apart as Azriel nudges forward, his own twitching in that way when he fights his smile. His lips brush yours, his smile barely held back.
“Have you forgiven me yet?” He says, sweet and low, allowing the smile to finally pull his pretty mouth up at the corners.
“Or should I make it up to you a little more?”
He kisses the corner of your mouth, chaste and gentle.
“Mmm,” your eyes are bright as they peer up at him, full of playful mirth and adoring affection. “You're forgiven but... I think you should make it up to me, just a little more.”
Azriel willingly obliges, his smile as sweet as the moonlight.
—
some people i thought might want to be tagged :)
@strangerstilinski @astoriaviviane @lana08 @florence-end @lportes-22 @torrick17 @florencemtrash @sidthedollface2 @seafrost-fangirl @goldenmagnolias @jeweline16 @meshellexplosionmurder @michellexgriffey @susiekern @toobsessedsstuff @fxckmiup @littlebookbengal @elenapril0502 @glitterypirateduck @hnyclover @technoelfie @itsapunklife @coffeecares
#it got very long... i'm sorry!#we can't talk about bad miscommunication and then me not set up valid reasons for miscommunication tho#i can't DO IT#azriel a big softie in this one...#i mean he always is :)#azriel#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x reader#azriel shadowsinger x reader#azriel x you#azriel fanfic#azriel acotar#acotar#acotar fanfiction#azriel hurt/comfort#miscommunication#idiots in luv <3#i need a writing tag.....
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DOUBLE TROUBLE
.ೃ࿐ feat. atsumu + osamu miya
in which: the twins have a little bet, and you’re their next target. who can make you cum the most on halloween night without anyone knowing, keep quiet virgin or you’ll get caught.
warning: 18+, college!au, fratboy!inarizaki, oblivious!reader, non+ dubcon/peer pressure, threesome, corruptive thoughts, misogyny (?), manipulation, drugs (molly), vaginal fingering, vaginal penetration, unprotected, petname: angel, oral (f!receiving + m!receiving), virginity loss, exhibitionism + voyeurism, implied orgy (with suna), sunaosa TEASE, they’re sleazy hoes. wc: 2k
ೃ࿐ ki’s note: this is fic was supposed to kickstart my kinktober series. i hope you love this as much as i do because i had the best time writing it! in my mind it’s still october 😭 divider: @cafekitsune
two devils, one angel, and fate. being a virgin sacrifice wasn’t necessarily on your halloween bucket list for this year.
— ♡︎ —
“can’t think of anyone to bring ‘samu ?” atsumu piqued, osamu is supposed to be the smart one.
the infamous twins had been thinking for some time on who to invite to their annual halloween party.
there were plenty of guests, but they needed someone special for the night.
atsumu’s fucked half of the bimbos from his fan club, meanwhile osamu was never satisfied with any of his groupies.
“well,” he starts. “i have an idea.” the light bulb in his head flickered before finally going off when he thought of the perfect girl. the dainty little college freshman whom he sees walking around campus all dolled up.
“who’s that girl that we always see with sunarin?” he ponders, in attempt to remember your name. atsumu’s eyes lit up when he realized. he knew exactly who his brother was talking about.
osamu really was a genius.
“y/n..” his tone was unsure, but curious nonetheless. osamu shot a finger gun “bingo.” indicating that his atsumu was right on the money. they paused, staring at one another as if they were reading each others minds. twin telepathy surely was a blessing. if they were both thinking correctly it seems like they’ve got a target.
*incoming facetime from; suna rintaro*
“yes suna?” you answer holding the phone above your face. “what’re you doing tomorrow?” the abrupt question never threw you off anymore, it was common for suna taking you on all kinda of spontaneous adventures on and off campus.
“ ‘m not doing anything, gonna watch horror movies and eat candy.” suna eyed you feigning disgust, what lame plans. “absolutely not..” he scoffs, “the twins invited you to their party tomorrow and you’re going.” the miya twins were mutual friends and have been known to throw some awesome ragers from time to time, how could you decline such an offer?
“i don’t have a costume???” honestly you were trying to find any excuse possible to lessen your chances of coming home wasted on halloween night. but suna had a solution to everything, even this. “wear white, i’ll sort out the rest.” he hung up after the condescending message, leaving you to piece together his surprise.
white, the colour of purity and innocence. nothing is innocent about a college party, especially because,
halloween was the one night a year a girl could dress like a total slut, and no one could say anything about it.
a firm knock was set on your dorm room door. “let’s go” his eyes fixated as you opened the door. suna mildly regrets not taking up the twins’ offer to join them on their escapade tonight, especially with the way that dress hugs your body. he quickly releases himself from the dirty thoughts.
“okay, what’s my costume? you said wear white.” suna’s hand rises from his side revealing a halo. makes sense why he told you to wear white now. it wasn’t until you took in his costume that really made you understand his choice.
he’s dressed in a red button up, except the buttons weren’t being used at all. the devil horns stuck in his hair confirmed the unoriginal costume idea. a few days back he mentioned matching costumes with the rest of his fraternity, and if you had to see the rest of them like this, than you were sure that attending this party was worth it.
the house was loud, as much as it was crowded, suna’s hand around your wrist is the only thing preventing you from getting caught in the ocean of people.
“sunarin! we’re over here.” pi kappa alpha (ΠΚΑ) was one of seven frats at your university, and was definitely the hottest. pretty, rich boys with the world at their disposal. everyone knew this but that never stopped girls from clinging onto them, after all osamu’s arms and atsumu’s abs— focus!
“ah, you made it.” osamu exclaimed opening his arms for a particularly tight hug. you hugged all of them, each cologne scent different from the last. “mind if we steal rin for a minute? won’t be long, promise.” atsumu’s tone of voice couldn’t have been more condescending, talking to you so sweet and saccharin. you nodded, shooting the quintet a small smile, before going to find a drink.
“an angel, cute.” atsumu watched your back was you walked away into a crowd of people. all that clouded his thoughts were all the things he wanted to do to you throughout the night. “get yer head intha game. what are the rules?” osamu chuckled, it was no doubt that he was having the same thoughts as his brother. that’s for sure.
“ ‘ts 10:30, whoever can make her cum the most before midnight first wins. unless you fuck her that is.. she’s a virgin so if you manage to to take her virginity you automatically win. get caught and you have to restart.” the night is young and the rules were set, but there was one question unanswered, whats the prize for a game such as this?
money of course. sex and money have been interchangeable for as long as mankind can remember, no difference here. a thousand dollars put up by each member, totalling to five thousand. winner takes all, loser gets nothing. may the best twin win.
atsumu wasted no time following you to the kitchen hearing the laughs from his friends behind. unfortunate for him bokuto caught your attention a little too quickly. he watched the two of you laugh and introduce yourselves to one another. it wouldn’t go on for much longer, not if atsumu could help it.
“bo-kun! do me a favor would’ya?” he said, slinging an arm over your shoulder. “get some more ice for the cooler, ‘ts intha basement.”
in boy world, this was a territorial interaction meaning; get the fuck out of here.
meanwhile in girl world, you didn’t think anything of it.
bokuto cheerfully agreed uttering “nice meeting you!” before sliding past the crowd of people to go fetch that ice.
“cute costume miya.” you look up to see him above your shoulder. he unhooks his arm from your side, leaning up against the counter. “not too bad yourself. you look,” he pauses for a mere few seconds. thoughts of you and how innocent you look plagued his mind, costume doesn’t help either. something in him was excited to taint that, you’d look so much prettier with your makeup smudged and begging him to make you cum, he thought.
“pretty,” he smiled, eyes shifting around your lips, and neck then back to your eyes. “you look really fucking pretty.”
“nights still young, you like games?” you tilted your head at the question. a suspicious question but how could anyone say no to him. “dependsss..” you drag out the word, tone laced with hesitation. this was all one big game, that you unfortunately didn’t know you were apart of, throwing another in the mix couldn’t hurt.
“how do ya feel about suck and blow?”
—♡︎—
suna forcefully offered up kita’s amex for the game, safe to say that he’s not happy about it.
the game rules were simple; suck and blow, on a card that is. pass the card mouth to mouth without dropping it. drop it and make out with the next person in front of everyone and spend an additional 10 minutes in an enclosed space. sounds easy right? it wasn’t a pi kappa alpha party without this tradition, they have a separate room dedicated for games such as these.
you watched intensely as the card made its rounds over and over you successfully received and passed it on. you were also standing between atsumu and bokuto, yikes! the card was making its way back around and like before it was just a matter of sucking and blowing, until you were locking lips with one of the hottest guys on campus. atsumu ‘dropped the card’ by accident, catalyzing the makeout sesh between the two of you.
it’s hot, it’s sloppy, it’s fucking miya atsumu.
you feel his smile on your lips as he slips his tongue in between yours, aiming for your bottom lip. the whooping, and whistling among the group was enough to encourage the egotism within you both to put on a nice show for everyone. your nails intertwining in his undercut, while his arms hug your waist.
“okay okay,” kita pushes, removing the two of you off of each other. “10 minutes, you know the drill.”
the frat brothers exchange a glance, one of many kita has shared with his little since atsumu started college.
the amount of girls that have survived that room, godspeed.
hearing the door close behind you was almost frightening, even after the spectacle you put on for everyone just now. it wasn’t until you took a few steps in you noticed this is a bedroom, not your average stuffy coat closet.
“suna teach you to kiss like that or what?” he teases, watching you stare at him in disbelief. “can’t believe he hasn’t fucked you yet.”
guess i’ll be the first, he thought.
suna? fucking you? confusion was an understatement really. unbeknownst to you they all thought you were sunas secret fuck buddy till he told them you were untouched.
atsumu almost forgot, and the realization ran through his blood with pure mischief. he was ready to get his hands on you and play with his toy of the night.
“let’s have some fun, yea?” he quips, walking towards you. “fun like what?” unintentionally you take a step back, the two of you flowing in a seamless b-line towards the bed as he goes forward and you go back.
“you’re a big girl right? in college now. ya know what big girls do?” his tone was informative signalling that there’s more to his mini monologue. “big college girls…kiss, and suck, and fuck boys.”
the smooth of your calves hit the sheets.
“a-atsumu i’m—” you’re a stuttering mess, and he finds it adorable.
“you’re what?” he mocks, lifting his voice up an octave to replicate you. it was only a matter of seconds before you were pushed onto the bed with his body caging yours beneath him.
it was all happening so fast, it’s not that you didn’t want to but this has never happened before. being stuck in a room with a guy especially an experienced one was never on you to-do list for today.
atsumu’s done this to many girls. he’s used to fucking bitches every week and you were no different. he never looses and he’s damn sure nothing will change that tonight.
“i’ve never done this before…” shame drowns your conscience as you confess what you thought was a secret. little did you know, he knew.
“s’okay,” his lips pecked against your jaw lightly, he could feel how tense you were but curious as well. “just wanna make you feel good, hmm?” you could feel atsumu’s hand creeping between your thighs though his eyes never leaving yours. this look on your face, the look of a virgin, never gets old for him.
the inquisitive look of “maybe it’s not so bad” staring back at him as he pulls your panties to the side running his fingers along your wet folds. you didn’t protest, or squirm, or defy, you just laid there beady eyes staring, legs spread for him awaiting his touch.
simultaneously, his fingers slide into you with ease while sharing a kiss to keep you quiet, earning a soft moan onto his lips. your body can’t help but concentrate at the foreign feeling of someone else other than yourself fingering you. “ahhh—! s-slow down ‘tsumu, too much!”
“no can do angel, got a lot ridin’ on ya.” completely dismissing your feelings, he continues to pump his fingers into your leaking cunt. “hurts..” you whine. “atsumu it hurts!”
“don’t lie ta me pretty, i can feel you clenching ‘round me.” your face flushed at his words, fluttering around his fingers. besides the slight discomfort it felt so fucking good, you really couldn’t get enough of it.
the humiliation you felt hearing the lewd squelching of his digits fingerfucking you was apparent. you watched in awe as he sped up, arm now jackhammering in and out of you at an ruthless pace. “fuckfuckfuck!” you cry, eyes brimming with tears.
atsumu traps your lips in a messy kiss, tasting a mixture alcohol on each others tongues. whines and whimpers escape fall from your lips onto his at the feeling of the coil in your stomach about to break. the euphoria that overcomes your body when your legs begin to tremble, thighs squeezing around his hand, your virgin cunny covers his fingers in sticky cum.
but his assault on your pussy doesn’t stop there, he’s still going; fucking you through your orgasm. “can’t stop there, you can give me another one baby, know you can.”
“no! c-can’t take it! i—” his hand quickly cups around your lips, muffling any sound that dares to come out of your mouth. time’s almost up and atsumu would throw more than a fit if he got caught and had to restart already.
he could feel it again, your pussy clenching around his fingers. atsumu continued at his gruelling pace, with a slick smile on his face. It was so cute seeing you like this, half an hour ago you walked into this party as an innocent little thing, and now he had you exactly where he wanted you — under him with his fingers buried inside of you, on your second orgasm.
“cumming… ‘m cumming—!” you mumble under the weight of his hand, eyes fluttering shut. “atta-fucking-girl angel.” your chest heaved and knees buckled while you creamed on the blondes fingers once more this time at full force, making you see stars before he pulled out of you.
“wasn’t so hard now was it?” he smiled sucking your slick off of his fingers. atsumu is now leading by two points and cocky was an understatement, he can feel himself growing hard watching your body go limp against the sheets. if he had the time, he’d take you right then and there but there was always an opportunity for that.
“make yourself decent before you come out.” was the last thing he said to you, chuckling while the door clicked shut behind him.
get yourself together! the sound of your own voice mentally cursing you was enough to spring you back to your feet, pulling your dress down, and fixing your hair. luckily for you, everyone continued their conversations, dancing, and games as you crept out the room exhaling heavily with relief.
a few eyes lingered, especially kita’s. he peered at you from afar, while atsumu whispered in his ear. he raised the red solo cup with an upward tilt of his head before smirking in your direction, taking a sip from the cup.
frat boys are just the equivalent to mean girls.
hell, it hasn’t even been five minutes and he’s already going around telling everyone. you couldn’t bare to see it really, causing you to relocate somewhere else in the house, the stairs.
you sat on the wooden steps, eyes glued onto your phone screen. the feeling of someone walking down was evident as the hardwood took a dip at the weight, it was osamu.
he pondered, swirling the liquid courage in his hand. how could he get you on his white linen sheets? he thought. osamu smirked at the idea that popped into his head soon after remembering the common denominator between his bed and that dress you’re wearing.
starring at your back from a few steps above, his eyes moveded to suna who was situated mere meters away from where you sat. he feigns tipping his cup, eyes pointing down to where you sat then back to the brunette.
it was genius, if he ruins that pretty little dress of yours you’ll have no choice but to take it off.
“do it.” suna mouthed covering his words with a cupped hand.
the weight of someone walking down the stairs returns after having paused, you didn’t think much of it until alcohol poured down your shoulder and into your bra from above you.
“sorry angel! that was my bad.” osamu quips, downing the rest of his cup.
“you’ve got to be kidding me..”
“relaaax,” he drawls before reassuring that “you can come change up here.”
—♡︎—
osamu scanned his closet looking for one of his old flings’ clothes murmuring, “no-no-no-too big-too small— damn i should call her..” as he looks through the assortment of clothing.
you waited on his bed partly disgusted at the fact that these clothes were equivalent to trophies.
“check that drawer ta’ your left for something.” he gestures a waving hand, pointing to the side table next to his bed.
the drawer was less then helpful, containing: condoms, an agent provocateur set (brand new, mind you), a bottle of dior sauvage, and a miniature plastic bag with two smiley face pills in it.
he has drugs just laying in his room?
“what’re these?” prodding at the drugs you ask, dangling the bag between delicate fingers.
he turns to face you, smirking when he sees what caught your curiosity. “a pretty girl named, molly.” osamu banged a girl with that name now that he thinks about it.
“you guys seriously take these?” eyes narrowing at the tiny pill analyzing it’s appearance, but wanting to know more at the same time. “are they fun?”
osamu closes the closet door, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. his attention is focused elsewhere when you display genuine interest in the party drug.
“wanna find out?” he asks with the tilt of his head.
fuck around and find out was an understatement, getting fucked after finding out was more accurate really.
“fuuuuck ‘samu..” your manicure runs through silver hair, as he messily laps at your cunt.
every flick of his tongue making your knees buckle, the pleasure was overwhelming your lower half as he teased your clit with the tip his tongue.
you couldn’t get over how good it feels, what was the point of staying a virgin when there’s men who will pleasure you like the miya twins.
“pussy tastes s’good princess.” he mumbles onto you, sending vibrations up your spine, continuing to eat you like you’re his last meal.
he could feel now eager you were to get off, grinding yourself against his face in hopes to chase the orgasmic high that your body was so close to.
the loud noises of his mouth smothered against your pussy and broken whimpers fill up the room.
loud enough for suna to hear through the bedroom door he’s standing on the other side of. he could feel his erection growing, listening to his best friend taint his virgin girl bestie on the most sinister night of the year.
“righthererighthere! ‘m cumming— oh fuck!” the euphoric feelings of the drug in your system enhanced every last nerve running through your veins.
you’re loud, high pitched whines falling from your throat as you throw your head back, eyes shutting tight.
osamu’s face pushed into your cunt with force, nose nudging at your clit. little did the two of you know, the brunette purposely walked into the room with you on the verge of a mind blowing orgasm and osamu’s mouth quite busy.
“you cumming?” suna asks, gripping your face with slender fingers.
your eyes shoot open to see one of his hands planted on the back of osamu’s head pushing his mouth deeper into your pussy, the other holding your face, taunting from above.
“oh yea, you’re fucked.” he taunts, pushing your lips into a kissy face forcefully moving your head from side to side, observing your features.
suna’s done his fair share to know you weren’t all there, your dilated pupils, flushed face and very vulnerable state gave it away.
“don’t be shy, go on. might be ‘samu going to town on ya but your attentions on me, hmm?”
seeing you tweaked out on the verge of your third orgasm of the night really did it for him.
it was torture, watching and hearing the twins have their fun with you meanwhile he had to watch.
absolutely no fair. he’s the reason you even considered coming to the party at all it wouldn’t be all that bad if he used you as a reward for his efforts, now would it?
“rin!!” you whine, “get out! this is embarrassing!”
suna doesn’t bother listening to your protest. he’s already slid his shirt off, unbuckling his belt watching osamu make you cum.
“move it.” he chuckles, tugging at grey locks.
“hey, i had her first.” osamu scoffs at his friends audacity.
“technically atsumu had her first, but it’s my turn. so, are you gonna keep bitchin’ or get your dick sucked while i fuck her?”
the two boys spoke as of you weren’t even there, like you were just an object for them to play with. this wasn’t about the bet anymore. this was about you, and the fact that they’d never get the opportunity to see your tweaked out, legs spread, off molly ever again.
a once in a lifetime opportunity with you in a position to not protest.
suna’s shadow hovered over you, manipulating your body to fit both of them on osamu’s mattress.
hazy eyes stared into his green ones with incoherent mumbles falling from your lips. seeing you fucked out made him want it that much more.
“hang in there for us pretty.” his voice sounding so sincere, meanwhile rubbing the tip of his cock along your slit.
he pushes into you without warning, stretching your cunt around his girth.
“shit..” he hisses through his teeth. “definitely a virgin, fuck.”
“ah—!” your hand flies to his chest in attempt to get him to slow down. “s’too much..”
“none of that,” osamu coos, grabbing your wrist.
you didn’t even notice that he slid his boxers off, smearing precum on your lips like lipgloss.
“hey ‘samu where’s the—” atsumu says, swinging the door open to the lewdest live scene he’s ever seen. “holy hell.”
“are you gonna stare or join?”
sluttsumu 2023
#ೃ༄ ratedK#haikyuu smut#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu!!#atsumu x reader#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu scenarios#atsumu smut#atsumu miya#atsumu x you#osamu miya#miya twins#osamu x reader#osamu smut#osamu x you#suna x reader#suna rintarou#suna rintarou x you#hq suna#hq atsumu#hq osamu#haikyuu drabbles#haikyuu#haikyuu fanfiction#atsumu scenarios#suna smut#suna rintarou x reader#suna x you#atsumu x female reader#osamu x y/n
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I adore your 'kisses before dinner' au. Bethie has my entire heart <3!!!
Is it possible to request a fic where Bethie is in a stage of wanting to dress similarly and wear makeup like mom!reader? And Steve catches the lovely moment of them getting together for their mommy/daughter date and marvels at his pretty girls? 🥹<3
thank you for requesting!! mom!reader
“I want to wear blue.”
“Yes,” you say, dragging out the soft ‘s’. “Your favourite colour out of all of the colours, mommy remembers.”
Bethie smiles and looks down at your feet. “Yeah, mommy.”
You reach for her face, cupping it in two loving hands to encourage her to look up again. Your fingers cover the side of her heads, your thumb rubbing sweet, gentle circles into her cheeks. “You know how you told dad you wanted to dress like me?”
“Yeah,” she says, holding your wrist. She has very little hands, even for her age.
“Well, I’ve got us dresses that are nearly the same one, and they’re blue. Should we have a look at them?”
You and Bethie kneel by the dresser to unearth the paper bag you’ve tucked away in the bottom drawer under Steve’s socks and underwear. Bethie waits patiently, quiet and still, her hand tucked under her legs to stop from snatching. You admire her dedication to being well-behaved. “Baby, you can touch them! They’re for us!”
Steve gets really worried about Bethie being shy, and he can’t understand it. “You aren’t shy!” he’d said to you before, “And I’m not shy, I don’t get it, I really don’t. All her favourite people are loud.”
“We aren’t shy now, Steve. But you were a quiet kid, right? That’s what your mom said.”
“My mom would tell you the sun is blue to spite me.” But he’d conceded. Steve doesn’t mind if Bethie’s shy, he just wants what’s best for her, and being shy can be awful.
Building her confidence was a big reason behind these mommy-daughter dates. Building her confidence, tackling Avery’s want for affection (which she deserves to have), and getting Dove out of the house —you love getting to have them one on one. You and Steve are gonna switch out after this set. He had big plans for his dates.
You’re trying to keep it simple. You and Bethie pull on your matching dresses and dark tights while your shoes wait for you downstairs. You'd tackled her hair that morning, leaving makeup as your last port of call. “Alright,” you command, patting your lap where you sit cross-legged on the floor, “come here, sweetpea.”
She lets out one of those happy-excited gasps that only kids seem to be able to make and hurries into your lap. You hear Steve’s footsteps on the stairs as she sits, your pretty husband edging open the door with his foot to peek inside. You smile at him, hoping it says to come inside.
“Can I have, um, lip gloss? The pink one? That you always say gives sticky kisses?” Bethie asks.
“Yeah, for sure. I thought we’d powder your face first, how’s that?”
She nods and closes her eyes. You pout at Steve, summoning him to sneak to the bed so he can see her tightly squeezed eyelids and her lips puckered for gloss. He puts his hand on his heart.
He melts more and more as you go. Bethie relaxes her eyes the longer her makeup takes, though you only add little tiny dabs of everything. A dusting of powder, a short patting of crème blush on her cheeks.
“Last but not least,” you say, gliding the pad of the lip gloss applicator over her bottom lip. “Rub your lips together.”
“Like this?” She rubs her lips, gloss spreading up into her cupid’s bow and under her nose.
You wipe the smudge away with your pinky nail. “Perfect.”
“You can say that again.”
Steve doesn’t sound like he’s joking. He clutches the fabric of his t-shirt just below his heart, totally in love as Beth opens her eyes to smile at him shyly. “You look amazing,” he says, fingers tapping his chest in emphasis. “Beth, you look so pretty.”
“You think so?”
Steve sits on the end of the bed to hold her hand. He’s soft with his touches, caressing her arm with his other hand as he says, “Of course I do. How about you blow mommy off and go on a date with me tonight instead?”
She giggles. “No, daddy!”
“You don’t wanna go out with me instead?” He ruffles his hair. “Is it the way I look?”
“No, me and mom are gonna go to the pizza party at the bowling alley,” she says.
“I like bowling.”
“For time together,” she says, flopping into Steve’s arms to hug his front. “It’s okay, dad, I’m coming back.”
“You are?” He kisses her forehead, meeting your eyes over her head, fondness in their slight squint and furrow of his brow. “That’s good. Miss you too much if you didn’t.”
#kisses before dinner universe#stranger things x reader#stranger things fic#stranger things#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x fem!reader#dad!steve harrington#dad!steve harrington x reader#dad!steve harrington x mom!reader#steve harrington x afab!reader#afab!reader#mom!reader#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fandom#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fic#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#steve harrington fluff
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Bleeding Pastels (Kabukimono x Reader)
The puppet's life is colourful; while tainted and stained with a dark smudge in the middle- originating from his creation- at least it won't discolour the world he lives in...
right?
Yandere!Scaramouche x Reader
Kabukimono era
Canon-divergent. Some abuse briefly described later on. Symbolism-heavy. Read between the rainbow to find the shadows that the light casts.
-------------------------
I. Pink
The day that the boy first saw you, he almost mistook you for a god.
You sat alone underneath wispy sunlight that broke through the gaps in the bright pink petals above you. Gently fluttering down around you, picking up with the occasional spring breeze; sakura petals adorned your atmosphere and lay like a bed around your form.
The shade of pink that dusted the boy's cheeks was only somewhat darker then the beautiful pale pink of the sakura and it's flowers.
The boy could only stare in awe, lost in his own world of reverence and admiration- that was until a beautiful, soft voice pulled him out of his head.
"And who might you be?"
The puppet blinks. Your bright, vivid irises held him captive among the falling blossoms; his pale pink lips open and close without a sound- the boy unable to find a response.
You laugh. Gods, that sound makes something within him stir. It steals his artificial breath and replaces it with something so soft and light that he does not dare to look too deep into.
"Well? There's room for both of us here, if you want." You say with a smile, palm patting the soft grass beside you.
It takes a moment for the puppet to register your words, but as soon as he does it's like a string has been pulled taut- and he longs to loosen the tension that has formed. He makes his way over to you, his knees folded underneath him as he merely stares at you silently.
"You're that boy that guy brought with him a couple days ago, right? What's your name?"
For once, the puppet speaks.
"I... Don't know." His voice is soft, light, and almost somewhat childish. He sounds so innocent and boyish.
Your eyes wander down his face and trail down his arms. He doesn't say anything, but he can see you stop and stare at the joints in the middle of his arms; the ones attached with a ball and some hinges.
"Hey, you're not human, are you?" You say with curiosity in your tone, as you pull yourself onto your knees to take a closer look. Your hands are soft as they take ahold of his wrist and hand, pulling it out to a stretch as you stare in wonder at his unblemished skin and the way his arm connects to the rest of his body.
The puppet watches as a bright pink petal flutters down against the untainted sky and lands delicately in your hair.
"I hope you forgive me for oogling you; I've just never met someone like you before..."
Your eyes flicker up to meet his wide-eyed stare; and you offer him a smile as bright as the sunlight above.
"Your skin is so soft, and the way your elbows are designed is so cool! Are your knees like this too?"
The puppet doesn't say anything; instead unable to find an appropriate response as all he can do is nod his head.
"Really? That's so cool!" You say with wonder to match his own.
"I'm (Y/N). I-"
Your mouth hangs open, but no words escape you as you watch the puppet's hand slowly move atop your head. Delicate fingers pluck what his eyes are so intensely trained on from your hair, before bringing it down infront of the both of you to see.
"This... was on you."
You blank at the pink petal between his fingers, and for a moment the puppet's mind whirs to life with questions of whether he had done something wrong, but you soon snap out of your trance with a laugh. The boy sits still, confused about your reaction.
"Thank you. You don't have to show it to me though." You say before snatching the soft object from him and swiftly placing it atop his own head.
You laugh at the expression on his face from your actions, and the puppet finds the wonderful sound brings a smile to his face. He doesn't quite understand why you did that, or why you're laughing, but he finds your joy infectious all the same.
II. Purple
Over time, the people of Tatarasuna as well as the puppet himself learned how he differed and how he was similar to the humans around him.
He felt pain and bled just like they did. Yet, he didn't seem to have a heart. He didn't need to eat or drink either, but he claimed that he could and that he wanted to do so to 'become more human'.
The puppet- now called Kabukimono by his peers- also didn't quite understand social ques and what was wrong or right. After finding out that humans would often disrobe and bathe when they became dirty, the puppet had tried to do the same in the nearby stream of village. That little event had a few people swiftly ushering him to put his clothes back on while laughing awkwardly; as if he was a child who didn't truly know what he was doing.
Which, in all honestly, was pretty much what he was. A child who knew nothing about the world or people around him. But he was learning.
The pastel purple clothing that he was so often seen in flowed freely in the breeze; the smell of lavender was picked up by the summer wind off his freshly washed robes and filled his nostrils with the calming scent. It was the smell that adorned him whenever you were the one responsible for washing his clothes (as you often took turns among the other villagers to look after him).
He had grown to love that scent.
"Just... like... this." You said as you dragged the teeth of the comb through his wet hair; letting the Kabukimono watch your actions through the mirror.
"Think you got it?" He nods at your question, and you hand him the comb.
His hand is steady as he mimics your previous movements; dragging the teeth of the light purple comb through the strands of dark indigo atop his head. After a few strokes, he pulls the comb away; a deep violet staining the teeth as if to remind him that he wasn't like you.
You smile at him. "Perfect! Just like that. Now you're all set to wash yourself next time you need to."
The Kabukimono stares down at the comb in his hands; staring down at the violet that taints the pastel shade. You had gotten him this comb, it was one of the first objects he had ever owned. And now, because of him, it was stained a dark purple from the dye that was used for his colour- that still coated his hair.
And yet, the same dark stain that now marred his gift from you had dyed your palms a similar shade to that of the comb- a bright, pastel purple. Originally, he had panicked and apologized profusely for staining you, for tainting you, but you merely had laughed and said you didn't mind. That it would go away eventually.
And while others wore gloves when taking care of him and his hair, you didn't. You let your fingertips run through the dark locks and dance across the top of his forehead; you let him feel the warmth and softness of your touch as you scrubbed the dirt and dust that had accumulated in his hair. You let his colour stain you; and somehow, you managed to make the dark purple such a bright and beautiful shade of lavender once it touched your skin.
"My... arms hurt. Can you do this for me?" He says quietly, turning towards you and holding the comb back up to you with a pleading look in his eyes. You smile, the corners of your eyes crinkling in adoration at the Kabukimono's barely-concealed lie.
You had done a lot to take care of him and teach him about various things; he knew that lying was 'bad' and that he shouldn't do it. But even so, on rare occasion- like right now- he would say something small that didn't match what you already knew. And it would always end up with you taking a little extra care of him then you otherwise would have.
You knew you shouldn't let him keeping lying, but he was so bad at telling them, and it was adorable how he yearned for attention... so you couldn't make yourself scold him for his behaviour. You let this lie slide like all the others.
"Alright, alright. Come on then, turn around."
You can see the corners of his mouth tip upward in a smile, however subtle, as he did as he was told and let you run both the comb and your fingers through his hair.
The Kabukimono couldn't help but watch your hands. To seek glimpses of the bright purple staining on your palms that could only have been from him. He always loved when the other humans would point out your coloured hands and comment on how you practically took sole care of him with how often your hands took on the familiar shade.
Even when he wasn't by your side like a loyal puppy, it was like a part of him was still with you. Even if at first he saw the colour as a stain upon your otherwise perfect skin, you had assured him that it was harmless, told him you liked the colour, even.
You had taught him that being 'selfish' is one of the 'bad' things, and he shouldn't be 'selfish'. But if it was so 'bad', then why did it feel good? Why did it feel good to leave a piece of him with you, as if to claim you as his own human?
The teeth of the comb grew ever darker as they sorted through his indigo hair.
III. Yellow
For a being that was supposedly crafted by the hands of the god of thunder, the Kabukimono couldn't help but jump at each loud roar of lightning that dared to light up the dark night.
"Oh, Kabuki..."
The puppet was shaking; his arms wrapped around his knees as he sat staring at the floor, trying to ignore each jolt of thunder only to be hyper aware of every crash of it outside the window.
The pity in your voice somehow comforted the puppet, even more so when you kneeled beside him to pull him into a hug.
"It's ok, you're not in any danger. The Electro Archon would never hurt us."
The Kabukimono still shook. Sure, she may never hurt you, but to him- every bolt that struck the earth was searching for him; the fruit of the anger and hatred he knew his mother held for him.
Each flash of lightning lit the inside of your warm home a bright yellow. A stark contrast to the usual deep purple of the electro element he knew so well.
Your hand smoothed over his back, the other wrapped around his shoulders as you held him close. Another flash had him jump once again; burying his face into your shoulder as if to try to hide from the storm.
"Oh, hey, hey... It's ok..." You tried to soothe him, your voice gentle and low as his arms wrapped around you to hold tightly to your clothes.
Your arms wrapped around him were warm, firm, secure, as if you were the one shielding him from the tumultuous rain and deafening thunder.
"Ok, c'mon, lets go to bed."
The boy in your arms sniffled as you pushed him away from you, guiding him towards your plush bed.
"B-But... My bed..." He mumbled out, his eyes falling onto a small mat off to the side that you had done your best to make comfortable. And as shabby as it was, the Kabukimono loved it. You had made it for him, after all.
"You won't be able to sleep if you're over there, will you? This storm doesn't look like it's going to stop anytime soon, so... Why don't you stay with me? That way, I can protect you."
The deep purples of his eyes were wide and glossy with tears at your proposal; but he swiftly nodded and climbed onto the bed with you following suit.
The two of you got settled underneath the blankets, and the Kabukimono couldn't tell if your bed was just more comfortable then his, or if he really liked being beside you that much more then being alone. He watched as you shifted around; moving the pillow you normally slept on to rest underneath his head as you lay flat on the mattress next to him.
You smiled at him, a smile that made his chest tighten and something within his artificial body malfunction. His breath caught in his throat at the feeling of your fingers brushing along the side of his face, pushing his bangs out of the way of his eyes.
"Do you think you'll be able to sleep? I'll be right here if you need me."
The rain was loud on the old glass of your home; a flash of lightning bringing attention to the lack of purple that the Kabukimono had so loved to see on your hands.
But the fear of the thunder triumphed over his sadness that his hair no longer stained your palms; and he couldn't help but jump at the noise that shook him to his core once again.
Trembling hands grabbed your soft, steady one and brought it up to his cheek. The Kabukimono rested your palm against his flesh, nuzzling into it even as he shook in fear. You couldn't help but pity him, the pad of your thumb brushing over his cheekbone as you indulged him.
"You won't leave me, right?" He says quietly, warily, as if he's afraid the storm will hear his weakness and aim straight for his non existent heart.
The smile you give him almost looks sad. But it remains as sweet as it always does nonetheless.
"Never."
"You promise?"
Another crash of thunder has him jump once again, but with your hand against his cheek, he's quick to recover.
"I promise."
He peers at you and sees no trace of malice; no trace of annoyance or deception or betrayal. All he sees is you; your beautiful smile and crinkled eyes, glistening even in the darkest of nights.
The next flash of yellow lightning that illuminates the two of you only proves to show that even against the Electro Archon herself; your light is so much brighter then anything the god could conjure to harm him.
He doesn't jump at the sudden thunder. Instead, he lets out a shaky breath and pulls you forward- bringing your head onto the pillow that you had given him before he buries his head right underneath your chin; pushing himself into your body as if he wished to become one with you.
You can't help but smile at his unintended affection. Your hands move to embrace him; to smooth over his back and run your fingers through his hair.
"It's... bad to break a promise." He mumbled into your chest. "You won't break your promise, right?"
You let out a soft chuckle, tightening your embrace as you let the boy cling to you for life.
"Of course I won't. I love you too much to hurt you like that."
Your words were accentuated with another jolt of thunder. Another flash of yellow. And then a second bolt of lightning- this time, right through the cavity where his heart would have been.
I love you.
The words repeated in his head like a prayer; and he nestled himself deeper into your embrace in an attempt to muffle his thoughts and hide the pink on his cheeks.
The innocent, pure little Kabukimono had heard the words before. Humans who were close, who kissed and slept in beds together would say it to one another. Humans who were bound for life by little bands of metal on their fingers would whisper it to eachother whenever they pleased.
His tongue burned- yearned to repeat the words back to you, but something inside of him refused. Rejected the idea of feeling the intimacy of human love... of the idea that he could be with you just like all the other humans who loved eachother.
That night, when the puppet and his human had fallen asleep, the Kabukimono found himself without a single dream.
IV. Blue
Even when the Kabukimono wasn't under your care for that day, he still hovered near to where you were.
The old woman who was tasked to care for him that day was a vile creature. One who refused to acknowledge the puppet as anything close to human; instead treating him as merely an object, a plaything, something that could do whatever she wanted of him without complaint.
Because the poor Kabukimono didn't know how.
The puppet watched from where he sat by a large bucket. His hands were filthy; red and sore from scrubbing away at the clothing that he was forced to wash by his current caretaker.
He watched as you bid farewell to your fellow villagers; a basket hung off your arm as you walked into the nearby woods.
Oh, how he longed to follow you. To see where you were off to, to accompany you and watch every move you made.
He looked down at the water in the bucket, browned with dirt and dust. Surely, the water flowing through the stream in the forest would be nice and clean, right?
He's quick to set everything aside; emptying the water into the nearby crops like he was instructed, and then following you into the forest.
It was like your presence had merely teased him; he stumbled blindly through the brush hoping that you would be found in this direction. That he could, at the very least, be able to lay his gaze upon you once more and lighten this heavy feeling in his chest.
What the Kabukimono hadn't thought about, though, was just what you may be doing out here in the forest. And what he saw when he finally approached the familiar babbling brook stole his artificial breath away- the feeling all to familiar to that time had first laid eyes upon you.
The water was a beautiful crystal blue; your clothing lay next to the stream, a telltale sign of what he had stumbled across.
You looked divine. Beautiful. The way the water ran by your bare form and dripped so deliciously from your skin had the puppet star-struck. Pink was quick to dust his pale cheeks.
Then, like an all-too-familiar flash of sickeningly-yellow thunder, a thought occurred to him.
He shouldn't be seeing this.
Sudden panic washed over him, a fear he had felt so many times before now baring it's fangs at him once more.
If you caught him, you would leave him too.
He bolted.
The trees rushed by him in a blur of green; sticks cracking beneath his feet as he retraced his path out of the forest. Birds flew and squirrels panicked as he went by them like the roaring wind; and finally he reemerged from the trees to the sight of the village before him.
He felt warm. He couldn't get the image of you out of his head. The picture of you bathing in such beautiful blue waters was ethereal. He felt his chest tighten even further at the memory.
"You damn puppet! Where have you been!?"
The Kabukimono's face paled instantly at the shrill sound.
"You thought you could just go for a stroll through the forest, huh?! You didn't even finish your chores!! And where's my water pail!?"
The voice boomed. It's origin angrily stomping up to him before grabbing his wrist so harshly, he was sure it would have bruised if he were human.
If he were human.
"You damned-... Can't you do anything right!?" The old woman shouted, dragging the shrinking boy along behind her and towards her old, decrepit house.
"I'm sorry-" He tried to speak, tried to make himself heard over the pounding in his ears.
The woman was like a constant flash of thunder; waiting for the perfect moment to strike the puppet where he stood. And this time, it looked like he was all alone in this storm.
The woman tossed open her front door before dragging the Kabukimono inside, harshly slamming the door shut before she turned to him with a wild look in her eye. The puppet looked absolutely pathetic as tears welled in the corners of his violet eyes.
She shouted at him. Cursed at him. Pushed, pulled, hit him in whatever way she felt fit to.
The Kabukimono shut his eyes, and recalled the divine scene he had stumbled across just a little while prior. He pictured you, standing within the crystal blue water of the stream, and he pictured himself standing infront of you. The sky such a rich, pale blue above the two of you as you found comfort in one another's embrace.
"Are you listening to me!?"
The puppet opened his eyes, and all he saw was blue. The world was blue, he was blue, the old woman was blue, and the constant patter of liquid splashing onto wood from his cheek was blue as well.
A sad, soulless, cold blue. The blue of loneliness and pain.
He remembered how beautiful you looked underneath the cherry blossoms that day he first met you. The shade of pale pink that so beautifully complimented the darker pink on his cheeks that day.
He remembered how tightly you held him under the flashes of yellow that threatened to consume him whole. How you told him you loved him- how you promised you would never leave him.
And he remembered the blue of the water running by your hips. The blue of the sky above, the blue of the cotton of your clothing.
The pounding in his ears was overwhelmingly loud.
A blue hand raised itself before him.
Before it could hit it's target, the pounding stopped.
Everything stopped.
V. Red
The world's colours had returned. But they were so much darker then before. As if drenched in thick shadows that clung even to the most well-lit areas.
And it was like the Kabukimono was just seeing the real world for the first time.
The green of the foliage outside had turned from a beautiful bright shade to a deep, forest colour. And even darker still were the greens inside; where moss and mildew grew along the corners of the old house, and the various stains from archons-know-what seemingly having appeared from nowhere now dotting the surroundings with the deepest shade of black.
The puppet had seen black before. But this was different. Darker. And it was like the entire world had been tainted by those stains of black.
Even the deep brown of the rotting wood below almost seemingly started turning black as a dark red seeped into it's pores.
Such a deep shade of red it was. The colour akin to the same that flowed freely from his cheek; although his was so much brighter then the vile woman who stained the floorboards.
No- if he wasn't a human, then she wasn't either. She was merely a creature, a worm- that now lie pathetically limp at his feet.
Her words, despite his attempt to drown them out, had seeped into his head regardless.
You will never be human.
You will never be wanted.
You will never be needed.
Perhaps she had been correct.
After all, she had only been repeating what he had been telling himself already.
But, if she was correct, then what did that make of the words that the other villagers had said? What, pray tell, did that make the humans themselves?
Liars. All of them. Filthy, red-stained liars.
They had never once truly cared about him. Merely tossing him scraps, at best; demanding that he do things for them and barely leaving him to fend for himself.
Barely giving him space in their village, barely caring to try and be 'polite' with him- even when they demanded that he be polite around everyone he interacted with.
At first, he just accepted it. Of course he did. The world was bright, colourful, beautiful- but now, he's seen it for what it truly is. He's seen the suffering, the pain, the lies; the shadows etched into every crevice of this forsaken world.
He knows that they had lied to him when they said they considered him a fellow human.
And you had taught him, the saint that you are, that liars are bad.
Oh, you... how beautiful you are. How wonderful and amazing and kind you are. Out of everyone in this damned, pathetic village, you had been the one to treat him like an equal. To treat him like a human.
To love him like a human.
His chest tightened at the memory of your voice above his head that night; "I love you" falling so effortlessly from your lips as you held him close.
Archons, you loved him. You promised him you would never leave him. And you had never broken your promises before.
You loved him.
Deep purple eyes fell to the human shaped insect on the floor. And a laugh bubbled up from within him.
He did something bad. Terrible. He had made the woman who hurt him stop moving.
But it felt good.
And if it felt so good, then... why stop?
He was already stained a deep, dark black. He could never go back to being as pure as you had seen him. Perhaps, he had always been this way- perhaps that's why his so called 'mother' and her fox-pet had decided to seal away what was rightfully his. The power that she had inlaid within him.
The power that now pounded so freely through him. And it seemed like the only way to silence it was to let it go.
As the puppet exited the house, a trail of red followed behind him. Electro crackled at his fingertips as he walked towards the center of the village, and he revelled in the hushed and desperate whispers of the humans he passed by.
The pounding in his ears- in his head- only grew stronger with each passing second. The crackling electro a disgusting shade of darkened, tainted yellow as it emanated from him.
And like a bolt of thunder that once had scared him so; flashes of yellow now flew through the open air and showed no mercy to the humans he was surrounded by.
Screams filled the air, filled his ears- and all he could do was laugh. Such pathetic insects, all scrambling to seek shelter from his divine wrath. It was chaotic, beautiful, as red stained the ground and painted the houses in it's corruption.
A gentle breeze kissed the cheek that had rapidly healed it's wound. With it, it brought delicate pale pink petals from the sakura trees that were so abundant in this land.
The village fell still. Nothing but the blossoms that danced on the wind dared to move; to catch the eye of the puppet-murderer.
"K-Kabuki...?"
A voice so small called out to him, stirring him from his thoughtless-thoughts.
He turned to you, and it was like your very presence made the surrounding area brighten to how it was before. Suddenly the world was perfect again; bright and happy and welcoming and loving.
Your eyes, so beautiful and vibrant, were wide and tinged with fear. Your hair was still wet- evidence of your bath, but all it served was to remind the puppet of what he had seen. Of the divinity he had been so blessed to witness.
You didn't move as he walked up to you. You couldn't. Shock had it's tight grasp on your body and mind, and you were unable to even speak at the bloody scene around you.
The puppet smiled so sweetly at you. And despite being the same smile as he had always given you, it no longer looked so innocent.
"I love you." He said, voice proud and unwavering.
Your eyes darted to meet his. He looked so...
dark.
"What...?" You couldn't even process what he said.
"You said you loved me that night, and I never said it back. I love you, (Y/N)."
"What-... what did you do..?" Your voice trailed off into a pathetic whisper, and it made the puppet smirk as his hand moved up to cup your cheek- much like how yours had once done for him.
"They were... bad. All of them. They could have hurt you, like they did to me..." The pad of his thumb spread a deep red over your skin as it rubbed your cheek. "But you love me. You promised you would never leave me. And I know you would never hurt me like they did..."
It was like his eyes had become gateways to the abyss itself; dark, devoid of life- of the boy you had once loved. Black stained his beautiful purple irises; tainted the beautiful colour with darkness and something sinister. Just like the blood that now stained your cheek.
The puppet-murderer intently watched your face drain of colour; intently watched as your pupils shrunk into pinpricks- and made note of your body starting to tremble.
He knew the signs of fear- he himself had expressed the same many times before. He knew you were scared. His chest felt like it tightened around a non-existent heart... he didn't want to see you scared. Not of him.
"...They were going to hurt you. I-I heard them. T-They were waiting for you to come back, a-and they would have... I-I couldn't let them do that. I couldn't let them be bad. I-I wanted to protect you..."
You still continued to tremble. It was like you had barely heard the lie he had told- but you didn't push him away when he pulled you into a cold, blood-stained embrace. And that was enough for him.
"I will... protect you. Stay with you. I will... be good for you."
...another lie. He was no longer good- he could never be good again. His soul- his hands- were now permanently stained red... a red that would be drained of colour as soon as you left his side- and he refused to be seen with that vile black ick. He refused to let you go.
It was almost sickening how swiftly he was able to return to how he was just hours ago... innocent, sweet, gentle. Even as the vibrant crimson stained his once-white flesh. Tainted him. Changed him.
As you gazed at him with a slacked-jaw expression, you could see the surrounding area- the massacred village- devoid of colour... of life. As if the puppet-murderer had drained the pinks and purples and blues and reds and it all congregated into a swirling black in the center of his beautiful indigo irises.
Was your beautiful, sweet little puppet-boy always so... heartless?
The way he pressed his lips to yours was robotic. Stiff and almost forced- but you knew that this was just his way of doing things, until he got used to it.
Until he got used to kissing you. Loving you. Tainting you.
A colourless tear cascaded down your cheek, your eyes closed as the puppet continued to kiss you as sweetly and gently as he could.
When he pulled away, he gently took your hands into his own, and looked down to see you trembling in his grasp. He noticed just how pretty your hands were covered in red.
And his violet eyes flicked up to your face, your hair- his red-stained fingers reaching up to pluck a crimson petal from your hair.
The pretty pink looked good on you, he once thought.
But he thinks you look so much better covered in red.
#reader insert#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#scaramouche x reader#kabukimono x reader#wanderer x reader#yandere scaramouche#yandere#yandere genshin impact#yandere x you#yandere wanderer
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Chemical Reactions (P. 1)
Pairing: Cillian Murphy as J Robert Oppenheimer x Student Reader
Warning: Smut in later parts, Age-Gap, Infidelity
Words: 1,867
Note: The fic is spoiler free and fantasy.
It was just before Christmas when you took up a scholarship at Berkley and, since you were young woman at the tender age of twenty-two, you still could not believe your luck.
You got in to one of the most sought-after courses in the US when it came to quantum physics, which was a field so new and progressive that, to many, its attributes appeared to be rather absurd whereas, to you, it was a way of understanding the world.
The class you had applied for was that of J Robert Oppenheimer who was a well-known physicist and whilst you had only ever read about his works in the academic papers at Harvard, you were eager to finally meet the man whose work impressed you so much.
Being female in the field of physics, however, came with a price. Your skills had often been disregarded because of your gender and being excluded from experiments was not unusual either. As such, you were cautious and kept your obvious excitement at bay as, no doubt, criticism was a concept that your fellow students knew just too well and, in your mind, it was always easy for others to criticise those who they did not yet know, i.e., the new and possibly only female student in their class.
***
On your first day, when you arrived to the impressive building, you realised that you were over twenty minutes early and this, too, was not surprising.
You were punctual most of the time and when you weaved your way through the building, you were surprised by how little time it took for you to find the lecture room, which, thankfully, was unlocked and had a few other students already inside.
You selected a seat one row from the front, in a spot that, to most professors, said "I am eager to learn” which you hoped was beneficial seeing that, at least for now, you were the only woman in the room.
“Would you be accepted by your peers?” you pondered, but your thoughts were quickly interrupted when, who you assumed to be your professor, entered the room.
He was a frail but attractive looking man, wearing a grey suit that was matched by a white shirt and a dark coloured tie. He was smoking cigarette and put his dark brown leather satchel on the table in front of him, rifling haphazardly through the mess of papers inside.
Against your will, you felt a displeased look settle onto your face. Is the professor's class going to be as disorganised as his abyss of a bag, you wondered? Were those other students' assignments in there, begging to be lost?
You smirked for a minute at the intrusion of your very own thoughts about Dr Oppenheimer before you instinctively pulled your cheek in between your teeth which just when more students began to fly in to the room.
“Oh look, someone must have gotten lost” one of them was quick to say with a grin as he had spotted you and your neatly laid out stationary.
“The biology classes are conducted down the hall, in the third room to the left” was what another one said, causing you to rise from your seat in order to speak up against this nonsense just before the professor himself did it for you.
“And what makes you presume that she is in the wrong room, Mr Handley?” Dr Oppenheimer asked almost sternly and his reaction most certainly surprised you as, until now, you did not think that he had even noticed you.
“She is a woman, sir” the man stammered somewhat reluctantly, causing the professor to furrow his eyebrows.
“And you presume that this prestigious establishment seeks to exclude women from studying in the field of physics?” Dr Oppenheimer then asked, causing you to grin silently. “That seems rather absurd, wouldn’t you agree?” he then went on to add, causing the young man to nod.
“Of course... I mean, of course not” the student stammered just before Dr Oppenheimer began to call roll which is something you did not even notice as you were too transfixed on his demure and the way he presented himself until, eventually, your hand shot up at the sound of your full name.
“Present” you said, feeling a blush coming to your cheeks as the class and Dr Oppenheimer looked at you, the latter's blue eyes lingering on you a bit longer than the others.
You forced yourself to hold his gaze, not sure of the intention behind it and then, suddenly, he spoke:
"Miss Y/LN, now tell us, what have they been up to at Harvard these days? This is where you have transferred from, correct?” the professor then asked just as his look towards you intensified even more. His deep blue eyes were seeing right through you and yet you managed to answer him confidently.
“Not much in so far as the physics department is concerned, Dr Oppenheimer. In the last year we experimented with nuclear fission, but I assume that, considering the current political climate, so has everyone else. We then looked at metaphysics, stars, the universe…” you explained before sharing some of your findings and conclusions which impressed not only Dr Oppenheimer but also some of the other students.
When listening to you talk, it became obvious to him that you were rather intelligent even at such a young age and your interest in science was one of great significance.
“None of this is new” one of the students then said nonetheless after you finished your explanations and outlined your conclusions, to which you responded rather sharply yourself.
“I didn’t claim that it was. I simply answered Dr Oppenheimer’s question” you pointed out and the professor was quick to take your side again.
“And I appreciate your thorough explanation Miss Y/LN. It helped me understand where you are at when it comes to the presumed knowledge for my class” Dr Oppenheimer went on to say and you knew that, whatever the true reasons were behind his questions, his intent was not as innocent as he made it out to be. He wanted to know whether the physics department in Harvard knew more than the physics department at Berkley which, luckily for him, was not the case.
The entire profession was well aware of the ‘program’ about to implemented by the US government and several physicists and educational departments began to protect their research with more earnest for a chance to cash in on the war.
But, Dr Oppenheimer did not appear to be one of those reserved physicists who were just in it for themselves. To the contrary, he really cared about making a difference and his research to date was well known within in the industry. He did not mind sharing his findings even if they were inconclusive and you have heard many stories about how he enjoyed working in the faculty as part of a group rather than on his own.
He was a leader but also a team player and, as such, when he wrapped up his questions for the day and announced the research project for the coming days, every student around him broke out into appreciative chatter as you remained in your seat, slightly dumbfounded, as the students were broken up into four groups.
---
“You worked in experimental before, have you not?” Dr Oppenheimer asked as, after a little while, he approached you and the group to which he had assigned you.
“I am pleased to know that you have read my file Dr Oppenheimer” you smiled after giving him a nod, which too is when you realised just how handsome he truly was. He must have been in his late thirties and seeing a wedding ring on this man’s finger came as a disappointment to you.
“I have read all of my students’ files” Dr Oppenheimer assured you just as you stood awkwardly at your table for a moment, debating whether or not to take the courage to ask him the millions of questions you had for him already until, suddenly, he prompted you to do exactly that.
"Did you have a question for me?" Dr Oppenheimer asked innocently as if he could have read your mind.
“Uhm…” you paused while cursing yourself already for having started your sentence with that godforsaken 'uhm' which, in your opinion, made you sound like an idiot.
"Yes, actually. I was wondering if, with this formula, you have considered the possibility…” you began to question, seeing how he had arrived at the calculations already presented to you and, just as you spoke with such great determination, you trailed off a bit as his gaze intensified.
“Quite frankly, you lost me there, at the end of your calculations but that is not to say that you are wrong” Dr Oppenheimer said almost politely as you looked at him somewhat flustered, causing your fellow students to chuckle and whisper behind your back.
“I must have lost my own train of thought just then. I am sorry sir” you said with blushing red cheeks as all of your confidence flew out of the window and you suddenly became aware of the way he was standing, with his hands against his hips, and the way he looked all together.
“Don’t be sorry Miss Y/LN. In fact, I am interested in exploring that idea of yours further, perhaps even after today’s lessons if you have time” Dr Oppenheimer then said as he adjusted the way he stood and smiled.
“That would be my pleasure, sir” you responded as you watched him spread his arms out on the table in front of you, far past shoulder width. He was leaning on his hands, causing the veins on his forearms to bulge slightly, which were exposed by the rolled-up sleeves of his white button-down shirt. He had his head tilted down a bit to look at you with those deep blue eyes until, eventually, he snapped out of his very own and somewhat intrusive thoughts which were thoughts you knew had nothing to do with quantum mechanics whatsoever.
Dr Oppenheimer then licked his lips lightly before speaking again, distracting you from the first few syllables of his sentence.
"Good, then please come and see when you finish for the day, Miss Y/LN. I will be right here, trying to figure out what you were on about” Dr Oppenheimer then said just as the bell began to ring and the students started to pack up their bags, seeing that most of them had experimental workshops to attend to in the afternoon which, of course, included you. You too had a workshop, which was one you did not look forward to.
“Yes doctor. I will see you this afternoon” you told him with a reluctant smile as you pulled your lab coat closer to your chest and forced your face to remain neutral, even as you felt the heat burning up your neck. You then gave him a curt "thank you" before lifting your chin and turning to leave.
To be continued…
Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!
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#cillian murphy#cillian murphy fanfic#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy fanfiction#cillian murphy x you#cillian murphy x y/n#Oppenheimer#oppenheimer x reader#j robert oppenheimer#j robert oppenheimer x reader#robert oppenheimer
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✿ 》I'll have you muzzled and caged, ill put you right in your place, you want it.
╰⧼ 🪻 note.. ⧽ ; this was in my drafts for a period . I actually finished it tho so be proud of me ( reblogs appreciated !!! )
╰⧼ ☀️ features.. ⧽ ; beast dazai x gn!reader x beast chuuya ( reader is afab but only a cunt is mentioned ) WC : 1.5k
╰⧼ 🌙 contents.. ⧽ ; smut, petplay, buttplug (but it isnt used), handcuffs, chuuya is soft and dazais a little of a dick, it kinda gets right into it so be warned, actual smut begins after the divider.
“..puppy ears?”
the velvet headband was clutched between your fingers. a gift box on the table in front of you from the boss of the Port mafia. Dazai, your personal trainer. He didn't reply at first, simply smiling down at you - before stepping beside you and taking a layer of crinkled tissue paper off.
“There's a tail in there too.”
and that there was. your eyes caught specifically on the glint of a metal plug on one end. He would pull a stunt like this, you thought. to the side was a bone gag, a crystal white with a pink ribbon to tie around your head. shit, and there's matching handcuffs? How much was in here? You look up at him for a moment, your mind reeling.
he'd said you worked like a dog before this, but wasn't this a little self indulgent?
“..is this a joke?” You look up at him. wishing for some resemblance he was holding back a laugh. hoping this was some gag to mock you, that you don't have to actually wear these things. but there was nothing but a smile.
“a joke? I don't think so.” he hummed, taking the headband out of your hands and gently placing it into your hair. “I picked colours that would suit you, you know? it'd be a shame if you were to waste my money and not make use of them.”
you scoff, picking out the tail and holding it idly in your hands. It was soft. nothing you would've been into, nor what you'd wear for your boss when you're in the damn mafia. and for a moment you found yourself wondering if quitting without a notice was allowed here.
“I can help you put everything on.”
a laugh escapes your throat, one which you couldn't stop the bubble from popping. He had to be kidding, there was just no way someone like him had the nerve.
But he wasn't laughing, he wasn't even smiling anymore.
shit, he was serious.
“I discussed it with chuuya beforehand,” He begins, walking around the desk to sit himself down, one leg crossing over the other. “He wishes to see you in the getup too, if you don't mind.”
“This wasn't in my contract.” You frown, placing the tail on the table - the plug end making a small clatter. “When i signed up to work here, there wasn't anywhere that said I needed to prance around in sex wear.”
“Did you not read the fine print?”
there was a fine print?
you hesitate, shaking your head. “I don't see how that matters. this has to be some human rights thing ..” your voice trails as the door to the office opens, familiar ginger hair in your peripheral vision as he strolls over to stand beside you, giving you a smile. you smile back.
“Chuuya, it seems we're having some obedience problems..” Dazai begins, his hands coming to rest in his lap. “the outfit we so carefully chose for them, they refuse to wear. isn't that cruel?..”
You glance at Chuuya, and he looks back for a moment. no words are shared. but there's a mutual understanding of why you might be hesitant - a human response.
Dazai continues, “You've always spoken about wanting a dog, haven't you, chuuya? and you've certainly spoken more than once about wishing how (name) was with us during our sessions.”
Chuuya chokes on his spit, there's a strange silence afterwards.
“..I suppose.” He mumbles, crossing his arms and looking away from the both of you. Dazai stands up, walking around the desk to where you are. His hand rummages in the box for a moment, taking out a collar and clipping it around your neck.
“It suits them. don't you think, chuuya?”
he turns to look at you, mumbling something under his breath as he steps forward to twist the collar to suit your neck better. you mentally thank the fact you're stuck between two people who even each other out, at the least.
Chuuya gently pulls you close by the waist, holding your hands behind your back as he nuzzles himself into the crook of your neck. you feel dazai clip the handcuffs around your wrist, all happens without a word spoken.
The gingers lips encase a small area of your neck, gently sucking as you let out a light whine. you feel dazai slip closer behind you, his hands on your hips and an unmistakable bulge pressed against the curve of your ass.
shit, what have you gotten yourself into?
you would've done more if your hands weren't tied, and if you could do anything but let out a guttural moan as chuuya's tongue collected the slick off your cunt, you're sure you would've asked them to be gentle.
you blinked a hazy eye open, met with dazai's tip smearing precum against your cheek. a smirk on those lying lips of his. bastard. the clasp from the bone gag in your mouth clicked open, dropping to the floor with a thud. It almost made you flinch.
“Now, do you promise to behave?” The brunette hummed, his voice an almost patronising sing-song tone. You felt Chuuya grip your hips from behind, pulling you back onto his face. it prevented you from having any response but a whine. Dazai simply scoffed, slapping your cheek before forcing your lips apart with his thumb ; resting it on your molars. your drool escaping the side of your mouth.
“I expect a response when I speak to you.”
you did try, but with chuuyas tongue deep inside you and with dazai's thumb in your mouth, you could barely even think straight, let alone make any stupid promises.
“you're giving me the silent treatment, hm?.. bad dog ..”
you let out a whine, shortly cut off as the back of your throat was blocked by Dazai's cock. your nose pressed against the bush of pubes he hadn't even bothered to shave. He stayed deep as you gagged and your throat closed around him, your eyes tearing up.
“there we are..” He muttered, gripping the back of your head behind your faux puppy ears, forcing you to take his cock into your mouth as he practically used you as a human fleshlight. you could barely even let out any sound, your airflow practically fully cut off as your throat was rammed full.
chuuya’s thumb swiped your clit, rolling gentle circles that contrasted the brutal pace dazai used your throat in. it was just too much, letting out sounds you didn't even know you were capable of making. drool glossing your lips as tears run down your cheeks. your mascara had to be ruined.
“hah- look at you. pretty little thing .. the sounds you're making now ..” Dazai whispered, a low rumble of a chuckle leaving his throat. “It’s the smartest I've ever heard you be, you know?.. keep making noise for me, just like that..”
the rustle of fabric behind you as chuuya laid himself down under you, gently rubbing circles on your ass as your thighs shake from keeping yourself up.
“sit down f'me. be a good pup.” you hear him mumble. and you can feel his temper grow as you hesitate, dazai tugging on your hair hard enough for you to look up at him, eyes glazed over from tears.
“You were given an order, were you not? sit. down.” you gradually obey, feeling chuuyas mouth enveloping your wet cunt again.
it's too much, everything is too much. dazai’s pace on your throat increases, the gasps leaving his throat become louder. as do the shaky grunts against your clit as chuuya makes lewd slurping sounds, obviously to provoke the room further. you can barely even fucking breathe, the knot in your stomach is so tight. so close.
“swallow.” Dazai mumbles, letting out an involuntary whimper as he buries himself deep in your throat, the bitter taste of his cum of which you had no choice but to swallow down. and you swear you might drown in it, almost blacking out as you cum on chuuyas tongue.
everything is quiet for a while, save for the sound of heavy panting coming from both you and dazai. chuuya crawls out from under you, wiping his mouth from your fluids and leaning back slightly. you can see the wet patch on his slacks, he came untouched from taste alone?
“That's better..” dazai mumbles, pulling his cock out of your mouth and letting go of your hair, not sparing a shred of sympathy as your front half hits the ground. your body stings, the exhaustion hurts. you can't process anything other than chuuyas warmth as he gently tugs you into his lap, your head to his chest with his hand running through your hair.
he's always been gentle with you, anyway.
“well, I think that was a rather productive usage of our time, no? wouldn't you agree, chuuya?” dazai looked down at the pair of you, a smile on his lips. You couldn't speak, your throat hurt. But chuuya pressed a gentle kiss to your temple and nodded.
“I certainly enjoyed it.”
#bungou stray dogs#bungo stray dogs x reader#bsd x reader#bungo stray dogs imagines#bungo stray dogs x you#bungo stray dogs smut#dazai osamu#bungou stray dogs dazai#bsd dazai#beastzai#beast dazai#beast dazai x reader#beast dazai x you#beast dazai x y/n#bsd chuuya#bungou stray dogs chuuya#chuuya nakahara#bungo stray dogs chuuya#nakahara chuuya x reader#chuuya nakahara x reader#chuuya smut#chuuya x reader#beast chuuya#beast chuuya x reader#beastzai x reader#beastchuu x reader#bsd fic#bsd smut
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⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲
The first day of any new job was always the hardest — all the rules and roles to navigate while establishing yourself as someone reliable, trustworthy, and far too interested in your employer.
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈
୨୧ DILF!Bucky Barnes x Babysitter!F!Reader
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕
୨୧ 8.3k
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔
୨୧ Swearing, pet names, fluff, slight angst/insecurity, pining, unspecified age gap, Bucky is a shameless flirt and he knows it, extreme sexual tension/implied smut, heated kissing, there is a kid in this fic
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔
୨୧ Happy belated birthday, @duckybarnes1917 — I hope you enjoy the torturous collection I came up with just for you, love you long time. 😘
୨୧ This AU and fic itself have skyrocketed into my personal top 5. I threw my all into this and I am fucking proud of it.
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔
୨୧ greedy by Tate McRae
୨୧ Like U by Rosenfeld
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒂
୨୧ @smutconnoisseur — thank you for dealing with my flying by the seat of my pants attitude because oh my god—
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔
୨୧ @buckybarnesevents Build a Bucky Bingo
჻჻჻ Babysitting (December), Teasing (January), Single Parent (February)
— Masterlist
჻჻჻ Aggressive Flirting (February)
— Masterlist
୨୧ @buckybarnesevents Alternate June-iverse 𝗖𝟯 — DILF AU
— Masterlist
୨୧ @mcukinkbingo 𝗜𝟱 — Mistaken for a couple
— Masterlist
୨୧ @anyfandomfluffbingo 𝗚𝟮 — First Kiss
— Masterlist
୨୧ @sweetspicybingo Sweetheart Bingo — Cloud Nine
— Masterlist
𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
The advertisement was like any other — a father looking for a babysitter to watch over his little girl while he worked, and from what you could gather, the father worked a prestigious job that took up a substantial amount of time when he had to visit the office.
A sweet little girl that adored princesses and coloured her days away, if her description was anything to be believed, and you applied for the position straight away, not wasting a moment before you sent all of your credentials through. It seemed a perfect fit.
To your shock (and relief), you heard back from your new employer within the hour.
James Barnes, a leading engineer in his field of cutting-edge prosthetics, called you in the next half hour, voice deep and honeyed with a hidden sense of cunning curiosity. The conversation was brief before he invited you over for a drink — of your choice, “You can have whatever you want, doll, I don’t mind,” he purred after you stuttered a shocked, nonsensical reply.
It was intoxicating, the sound of his voice lulling into fantasies that your majorly unhelpful mind conjured after that encounter. The memory was barely definable through your lust fuelled recollections of your shared drinks.
Over time, after spending time with the both of them, it took all of your willpower to not be lulled towards the forbidden curiosities you held for your new employer. He was enigmatic, playful, curious, and lethally charming with a smile to match — one that danced in your daydreams and slumber with far too sinful results.
The rapport with your new charge came over easy, a blessed relief that instilled a confidence in you; a job that would both be a smooth and interesting challenge, sans complications of a tantruming child.
James, however, quickly made it his mission to fluster you at every turn: asking you about your day and praising you for the smallest, littlest things, to bringing you home flowers and treats when he walked in the door to greet you.
It never failed to make heat creep up your neck, and never failed to land elsewhere.
You were no stranger to attraction, but James was something else — a broad, older man, single father to a little girl, incredibly handsome and intelligent, and far too suave for his own good. Just the thought of his attention made you feel giddy with the rush of endorphins.
One particular video call stuck in your mind to this day, a loop of his voice and soft, enamoured expression on repeat. Both of you were discussing the particular habits of his little girl: how she loved certain movies and detested others, where she loved to have her meals and with what plush teddies and dolls had to sit with her, and so on, so forth.
It was heartwarming to bear witness how much he adored his daughter, a clear example of love and devotion you’d only seen in very few circumstances.
“She doesn’t mind having other movies,” James said, and the camera panned to the little girl happily playing with her dolls. “It’s just– She will pout and whine if she doesn’t get, y’know, that movie.”
You chuckled and noted it down on a piece of paper. “And we’re not saying the name of that movie because–?”
The phone’s camera flipped back to show James’ fearful expression, wide, bright eyes staring directly into the screen and through to your soul. “It’s because I don’t want a riot in my living room,” he said carefully, around your laughter — you couldn’t help it, he was too dramatic. “Besides, I would rather spend my time talking to my pretty Fawn.”
The use of the pet name he reserved for only you made you splutter and hide — tilting the camera to the ceiling as you bit your lip hard enough for it to almost bleed. “Aw, come back,” James teased, “I was enjoying seeing your face—not the damned ceiling.”
You were sure it was some kind of sin for how often that comment played in your mind during the late hours of the night, but you couldn’t help it.
In such a short span of time, you fell hard for your boss, the father of your charge, and it was a hell of a forbidden rush to think of him in such a way — above you, pinning you to the surface while he fucked you deep, hard, and fast. The deep, animalistic grunts that would fall from his lips, or the praises he’d sing of how tight you were for him.
Not to mention, the way his deep, chocolate brown hair would fall from his shoulders to hang between your bodies, the ends of it tickling your skin when he would pull out; only to thrust hard back into your cunt with a wrecked, gravelly moan.
The clatter of your fork on your plate made you jump a mile high, and you came back to reality with a crash to find the sun casting its bright rays over the breakfast nook in your apartment. “Fuck, fuck,” you muttered, shaking your head to clear the heated images while your thighs clenched traitorously at the visual and auditory vision. “Goddammit.”
What lay ahead, however, made the burning thoughts turn to butterflies in your stomach. Today was the day, your first real test: a full day packed to the brim with activities you planned that would suit the young, imaginative mind you no doubt believed the girl to have, given who her father was.
A loud chime sounded next to you, and you gasped in fright. “Shit!” you cursed, and you scrambled to grab your phone.
Speaking of the devil; James’ name flashed at the bottom of your screen, and you read the text with an unparalleled eagerness.
She just woke up and she’s already screaming about her new friend visiting today. We’re excited to see you, Fawn.
Attached to the text was a picture of the little girl you affectionately called Starlet. She was holding a drawing up to the camera that had no doubt been hastily created — it was you, James, and her holding hands. The movement she artistically captured led you to assume the three of you were dancing in front of the giant, scribbled rainbow in the background.
Tears welled in your eyes at the soft warmth that bloomed in your chest — only having had prominently video calls with her, she already considered you a friend.
Memories pulled at your mind again, and you thought back to the time you received a video call from Starlet one evening — it was just starting to grow dark when your phone chimed, and you answered it without a second thought after seeing your employer’s name on the screen. “Hello?”
A bright, smiling face stared at you through the screen.
“Oh, hello, honey!” you said happily. “What are you up to?” Then you remembered that she was a crafty, cunning little girl. With a sterner tone, you pressed on in the interrogation, “Where’s your dad—have you taken his phone again?”
“No, I’m here, Fawn,” James called distantly, and he laughed. “Starlet wanted to say hello—I’m just cooking dinner, you don’t mind, do you? Are we keeping you from something?”
“Nope.” The cushions against your back suddenly became very comfortable, now that you had company of your favourite two people. “Tell me about your day, sweetheart,” you asked of Starlet, and the little girl flew into an explanation that lasted one whole hour.
It was only when James took his phone back did you have a moment to catch your reeling mind, only for it to start spinning at the sight of his broad, handsome smile.
The phone in your hand buzzed once more, pulling you from the reverie. James sent another message asking if you would bring more of a specific set of gel pens — Starlet had taken to them and never quieted down about how sparkly they were.
A giggle escaped from your lips in the quiet of your home, and your thumbs flew over the keyboard to type back: Sure can. I can’t wait to see you guys, I’ll be there soon!
“Okay,” you said to yourself, picking up your plate of now stone-cold breakfast. “Let’s do this.”
You ignored the heavy weight of the secret bearing down on your mind as you padded down the hallway to your bedroom; how wrong it was to fall for your damned employer and harbour the lust over him, but you couldn’t help but revel in the thrill of it.
After dressing comfortably, you made sure to grab an extra set of gel pens for the princess that awaited you before you walked out the door, locking it behind you.
The journey to James’ home was thankfully uneventful, and you pulled up to where your directions led.
Your mouth fell slack with shock at what you found awaiting you.
The driveway to James’ home was sprawling in the length and design. Flowering hedges lined either side of the luxuriously paved road, and there was a water feature — a water feature, you thought incredulously, placed dead centre in front of a set of stairs that led to a massive, windowed, double set of doors.
“No wonder the pay was that high, he’s rich.” Your car travelled silently up the way while you took in the opulence of your new surroundings.
To the left of the stairway leading to the front door, was an empty space next to a fancy SUV. “I hope that’s for me,” you mumbled, and you parked your car while sure to leave space between the vehicles. The handbrake creaked and the engine shut off with a shudder, the sound of it made you grimace. “I have to get this checked; sooner rather than later.”
With no time to pause and consider your misfortune with vehicles, you slid out of the driver’s seat and popped the trunk to fetch the bag of delightful craft supplies you readied for Starlet. Through your raging nerves, you managed to hum a song quietly as you placed the strap over your shoulder.
The sole of your shoes padded over the pavement of the driveway, and the mansion that loomed ahead of you in its majesty — the architecture alone made it appear like something from the cover of a magazine.
“Whoa,” you breathed, spinning in place to take it all in. The beauty and aesthetic of the home was unmatched in the tidiness of the landscaping, and the facade of the home highlighted the contrasting use of colours in both the wood and steel that made up the accents. “Holy–”
A squeal of glee cut your admiration short, and one of the double doors of the home flew open to reveal a small girl dashing down the steps, clothed in a typical sparkly, princess dress. “Hi!”
“Oh!” you gasped, stumbling backwards with the force of the child’s hug. “Goodness, hello! You must be the little Starlet, huh?” The comment was teasing — you knew for certain this was your charge, but the girl beamed up at you through her fly-away hair.
“Yeah,” Starlet giggled. Her small arms, decorated in sparkly lace, squeezed you tighter.
A deep voice tinged with the worry only a parent could possess, suddenly called from the stairs. “Starlet! Honey–? Don’t run off on me like that–” They stopped, and you looked up — the breath in your lungs escaped as though you’d been punched in the diaphragm. “Fawn!”
You blinked, unable to form the words that would accurately depict the sight before you.
James was smiling — the very same one that made his eyes crinkle at the sides. The tight, navy blue, rounded collar shirt clung to his chest and shoulders, while black dress pants hugged his thighs.
It was true, you had seen him numerous times via your video calls and once in person, but nothing came close to preparing you for how he would be in the comfort of his own home; how his voice was just as deep, if not deeper, and trickled down your spine with the same heat as molten lava.
Oh, fuck, you thought.
Aloud, you said, “Mr. Barnes!”
James grinned and shook his head. “Fawn, sweetheart—please call me Bucky.” He neared you, his presence overwhelmingly close, and he leaned in for a hug that you nervously returned — all the while praying the hammering beat of your heart couldn’t be heard or felt against his muscled chest. “It’s good to see you again,” he rumbled, pulling away to look you up and down, and his eyes landed on your bag. “I’ll take that for you.”
“Th– Thanks,” you stuttered; the proximity allowed you to stare into his grey-blue eyes, a mix of colours you wished to capture and keep.
Bucky’s hand brushed against yours when he grabbed your bag, but he kept that same, priceless smile on his lips. “We started the princess marathon early, if you couldn’t tell,” he added, looking down at the ball of energy that was his daughter.
You grinned down at the little girl. “I can’t wait—I found so many things we can do, Starlet, and they all involve princesses.”
Starlet took off like a shot towards the front doors and into the house, her screech of glee loud enough to wake the neighbours — Bucky stood next to you wincing, while you rubbed your ear that was closest to the front door. The ringing only died down slightly.
“Oh, boy,” you muttered, “Someone’s a bit excited.”
Bucky laughed. The sound rich and something you terribly needed to hear again.
You looked at him, taking in his profile while he still stared towards the doorway of his home. The hair that looked almost black on the phone, was a deep, deep brown — where the sun bled through the surrounding trees, it shone a beautiful hazelnut. It was loose down his neck, and his beard was neatly trimmed with only a few grey patches to be seen.
The sign of his age made him all the more attractive — allowing a sense of maturity and allure to his already swoon worthy appearance.
“So,” you hastily started, willing the heat that started to build in your stomach to simmer instead of boil. “You’re off for a full day in the office?”
“Hmm? Oh, yeah,” Bucky replied, and he put a hand on the small of your back to guide you up to his home. “I’ve got back-to-back meetings that I can’t put off any longer, given my associates and their… inability to manifest a sense of patience. And I don’t like taking Starlet if I can help it—she’s such an active girl and she hates sitting in the corner.”
“That’s fair.” The stairs beneath your feet exhumed luxury you felt you couldn’t even stand in the presence of. “Have you been looking for a babysitter for long–?”
Bucky looked at you from the corner of his eyes. “Curious one, aren’t you, Fawn?”
“I–”
“I’m just messing with you, honey,” he said, barely holding back a laugh. “And to answer you, yeah, I have. They all either were too uptight or couldn’t handle how hyperactive Starlet is—‘cause as you may have noticed, she’s a lot–”
“She is not!” You frowned and looked towards the inside of the house where Starlet was no doubt impatiently waiting for your presence. “She’s beautiful and sweet—creative and passionate, there’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Thanks, honey,” he said softly, earnestly. The smile he gave you made butterflies erupt where there were flames only seconds ago.
Bucky walked you through the threshold of the front door, and you gasped loudly at the interior — it was a brightly lit, open spaced home with only counters and half walls to divide up the rooms, and there were numerous hallways that lead off of the main area. A grand staircase led to the upper floors.
“This is beautiful,” you said breathlessly, awestruck by the beauty. On the upper level, you heard the fast footsteps of a little girl running around, to gather things to show her new friend, you assumed, but what you focused on was Bucky’s prideful expression; a man that was happy and proud of the space he built for his family. “Really, really beautiful, Bucky. Wow.”
“You know how to make a fella feel special, Fawn,” he muttered bashfully with an accent you loved more than would ever admit to. A playful sense of amusement grew as you spotted a dusting of pink over his high cheekbones.
The air crackled with tension as Bucky looked up from the floor and into your eyes.
Before you could open your mouth and say something on instinct, Bucky looked towards the kitchen, then back at you. “Come here.”
He led you into the sprawling kitchen — the size of it far too big to comprehend with counter space akin to a working, industrial kitchen. A ringed index finger pointed to the fridge. “Now, before you go getting any ideas of spoiling Starlet rotten…”
There was a teasing tone to his voice, and it was raised to be loud enough for a certain pair of little ears to hear.
You looked to where he was pointing and saw a whiteboard hanging high on the door. Neat, orderly writing on one side; childish scrawl on the other. It had rules listed in bullet form: no extra chocolate, no extra sugar, in bed by eight…
“As you can see,” Bucky said, still in that raised tone. His eyes wandered to the upstairs loft that was above the kitchen, and you didn’t repress the urge to grin at him. “There are rules to follow, and Starlet agreed to them; do not let her convince you otherwise–”
“But daddy,” a petulant voice whined. You only just managed to stifle your laughter. “She didn’t have to know.”
“Starlet Barnes,” Bucky scolded, and the laughter you worked so hard to bite back almost broke free as he put his hands on his cocked hips, staring up at the loft. Your gaze followed his eye line and you saw the aforementioned troublemaker peering down between the railing, a deep pout on her lips. “You promised me you would behave, honey. Now come down here so I can say goodbye—daddy’s gotta go to work or he’ll be late.”
A loud whine followed Bucky’s words, and he shook his head before he looked at you. “Those are the rules, for her, anyway.”
You blinked. “What–”
The same fast footsteps from before now pelted down the stairs, and Starlet launched herself into Bucky’s arms, giggling as he lifted her small body from the floor and into the air with a grunt. “Are you going to behave for Fawn, honey?” he asked, resting Starlet on his side so her legs swung over his front and back. “You promised me you would, remember?”
Your heart swooped and lodged itself in your throat with the display of paternal affection.
“Yeah, I will,” Starlet replied, her small hands grabbing Bucky’s stubbled cheeks. “Daddy, you need to shave.”
No he does not, you thought privately.
“Thanks,” he replied, and he blew a raspberry on her chubby cheek. “Okay, be on your best behaviour; manners, honey, use them.”
“Mhm,” Starlet hummed. Bucky placed her gently down onto the floor, and her little, sparkled flats made a small click click sound as she walked towards you. “I’ll be good, daddy.”
You offered your hand to hold, and she took it eagerly, swinging your arm back and forth while Bucky grabbed his briefcase and bag. “I’ll be back late tonight, so don’t wait up for me,” he said to you. “Feel free to eat whatever or order in, my card is here–” He shoved a black card from his wallet into your free hand before you could protest. “And– Yeah, I’ll be back.”
“Bye, daddy!” Starlet called, pulling you along behind Bucky — who’s broad shoulders and muscled back was unfairly shown off by the cut of his shirt. “Talk to you later–”
“I promise, honey, I’ll call Fawn and say goodnight.” A dark blazer was pulled from its coat rack, and Bucky shrugged it on before he smoothed the wrinkles in the fabric, quicker than you could offer as you so desperately wanted to. “And in bed by eight, no later, understood?”
“Yes, sir.” You saluted, and the look Bucky shot you made you gulp — pure heat blazed in his eyes, and the flames that licked up your spine you dampened before reignited with a roar. “We– We’ll be good,” you stammered, praying to anyone that would listen above that you could survive the night with that visual at the forefront of your mind.
Bucky smiled and walked back to kiss his daughter on the cheek. Then, to your absolute mix of horror and surprise, he kissed your forehead, too. “My good girls,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on yours. “I’ll talk to you later.”
And the door closed with a finality that left you reeling.
“Can we go colour?” Starlet asked innocently, her bright eyes blinking up at you. “Daddy said he left me the best pencils and you brought pens?”
“Uh– Yeah, yeah—sure, we can go colour, sweetheart,” you said. Focus, you reminded yourself inwardly.
For hours, you spent your time between the set of plush couches in the expansive living room and marathoning movies that ranged from cartoons to the most ridiculous animations, to a small child’s table — colouring with the closest thing you would ever come to spending time with royalty.
Starlet certainly took it in her stride to act like a princess.
“But daddy said I could–”
“Go look at the fridge,” you said, smirking — you knew for a fact that she was attempting to pull the wool over your eyes. A deceptive, little lamb. “Daddy put the rules up there and he said, before he left, that you agreed to them—didn’t you, Starlet?”
Small, pink lips pouted heartily, and she stomped off towards the fridge, her shoes thudding over the floor. “Ugh.”
“Ugh, indeed.”
The night began to wind down a few hours later, and after colouring the whole duration, you decided a movie would be the best course of action to break up the monotony and brewing tantrum in the wriggling girl opposite you.
As a treat, you allowed Starlet to play a movie while she ate — only after she swore to you that she wouldn’t tell Bucky. The ploy worked, for as well as any child loved the idea of a secret, she fell head over heels into the sworn secrecy and happily tucked into her dinner while the princesses on the TV screen sang another rendition of the chorus.
You couldn’t help but watch her from the kitchen counter, where you were tidying away the dishes. It was with curiosity you admired the similarities between Starlet and her father, what you found and discerned during the short time of knowing the pair of them.
Starlet had the same bright eyes, the colour of her irises as beautiful as her father’s with the addition of an irreplaceable hint of childish awe and wonder. Her hair fell in waves; shades of what you could only describe as beautiful in the strands that prominently populated her temples to crown.
A sudden sense of contentment flooded you while you continued to gaze at her. Being invited and accepted into such a space was rewarding.
It was evident that Starlet’s birth mother was no longer in the picture, and you never planned to ask or know more than what you were told, but still, you wondered how Bucky was not snatched up. He was a charming, sweet man that adored his daughter — you would be lying if you didn’t take to heart the imagined scenarios that played over and over in your mind, of what it would be like just to be part of such domestic bliss.
The loud chime of your phone startled you from your thoughts, and you exhaled sharply just as Starlet’s head peered up and over the back of the couch. “Is that daddy?”
You looked down at your phone’s screen, smiling, and said, “Yeah, hang on, I’ll come sit with you and we can talk to him.” The screen flashed with colour as you swiped to accept his video call, and you were greeted with his bright smile.
“Hey, Fawn,” Bucky said happily, though he looked exhausted — the furrow between his brow had deepened in his absence from home. “How are my girls, huh? Behaving, I hope.”
“We’re here, we just finished having dinner,” you said, angling the phone to show a distracted Starlet, sans her plate (that of which had hastily been placed on the coffee table in front of the couch), and then back to you. “Starlet jumped up on the couch with me to say hello.”
Bucky narrowed his eyes, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “Is that so? Alright, where’s my little girl?”
Starlet scrambled to sit right beside you, and her happy expression filled the screen while you chuckled. “Daddy!”
“Hey, baby girl,” Bucky cooed, his smile heart-warmingly fond. “Have you had a good day with Fawn?”
“Yeah,” she replied, nodding quickly. “We coloured and then watched movies and coloured more and–”
“A lot of princess duties,” you cut in, and Starlet giggled, her chubby cheeks turning pink with a blush. “We are in the presence of royalty, Sir Barnes.”
“Oh, do forgive me, your highness,” he replied with wide eyes. The camera shook as he moved, and you saw his desk top scattered with papers before the phone settled upright, pointing towards Bucky’s office chair. He bowed deeply — either intentionally, or ignorantly allowing his hair to fall over his face. When he looked up to the screen, loose tendrils of hair covered his forehead and danced over his eyes.
The last reserves of your self-preservation and dignity vanished as you tried to force your heart to not burst free from its new home in your throat — the way his eyes appeared through the slicked strands was an image you would never let escape.
“I humbly request an audience with the Princess.” Bucky neared the camera again, smirking — the bastard knew, you panicked.
Before you could spiral, beside you, Starlet said fiercely, “Of course, Sir Daddy.” She shifted to better look at the screen. “The Princess always has time for uh–”
“King, or knight,” you whispered into her ear.
“Knight!”
“How generous.” Bucky laughed heartily. He sat back in his chair and steepled his hands, showing off the glint of his rings and the generous muscle exposed on his forearms from his rolled-up sleeves. “Ah, my girls,” he sighed, looking into the camera. “I shouldn’t be too much longer—Uncle Stevie is being a punk–”
“Uncle Steeb!” Starlet squealed.
“Yes, uncle Steeb,” he echoed, and he looked off camera. “Get over here, she wants to see you.”
“Is that my favourite niece?” A second voice called, the volume increasing as they neared the desk. Starlet was positively vibrating out of her seat with excitement.
“Well, well, well,” they said, and suddenly, another handsome face came into view. He had blond hair that was slicked back, and his beard was neatly trimmed — deep, blue eyes glanced between you and Starlet with interest. “It is—hey, Bug!”
“Uncle Steeb! Uncle Steeb!” Starlet launched herself at the phone to hug the device to her chest and toppled it from your grip. “Oh– I sorry–”
“Don’t you worry, honey,” you soothed, and you ruffled her hair. “Just be careful, okay? Hang on, let’s pick this up–” The phone had thankfully been undamaged in the fall, and you smiled at the two men staring up at you with concern.
“You two okay?” Bucky asked — he was poised as though to run at a seconds notice.
“Yeah, all is good,” you replied, settling back on the couch. “Here you are, sweetie.”
Starlet held the phone as though it was a priceless jewel, and she spoke to her father and apparent uncle with such vigour it was as though she hadn’t seen them in weeks, rather than just a day. The topics broached what the princesses in the movie did, to what she coloured — it was an endless tirade of excitement that only made you smile as you watched on.
Soon enough, she started to yawn, though she tried to minimise and hide them. A father’s keen eye was not to be underestimated, however. “Baby, I think you better get to bed—it is close to eight,” Bucky said softly.
You glanced at the top of your phone’s screen to check the time for yourself, and you blinked — it was only seven when he first called.
“I’ll be home soon, and I will come and kiss you goodnight, okay? Fawn can put you to bed; she’s pretty good at bedtime stories, I hear.”
She looked up at you through glazed eyes. “You are?”
“I am,” you confirmed with a proud nod. “Why don’t you say goodnight to daddy now and we can get you set up and comfy in bed?”
“‘Kay,” Starlet mumbled sleepily. “G’night, daddy. I love you.”
Bucky smiled. “I love you, too, baby. I’ll come give you a kiss when I get home, I promise.”
You ended the call with a promise to do your best impression of the characters for Bucky, and beside you, Starlet sighed happily. “I love daddy; I love uncle Steeb.”
“I see that,” you chuckled quietly. “Now, c’mon, up you get—bedtime for her highness.”
It turned out to be a smooth, tantrum-free process, readying Starlet for sleep — she followed your guidance to a tee and had the independence to fit her title when it came time to pick out her favourite pyjamas.
She settled into the cocoon of blankets and plush toys that took up more room than her own small self on her bed, and you smiled down at her as you sat on the edge. Her small hand in yours made your heart leap.
There was a strange glint in her eye when she uttered your name sleepily. You raised a brow in curiosity. “Yes, honey?”
“Are you daddy’s friend?”
“Yes,” you said honestly, smiling. “Your daddy is a kind, thoughtful man. I am happy to be his friend—why do you ask, sweetheart?”
“I–” She swallowed and furrowed her small brows. “He told me one time that there are special friends, and I– I–”
“Oh, Starlet– No, no honey,” you rushed, desperately smothering the rising panic in your chest at her implementation — the curious nature of a child was never to be scolded, but you did not think you could stomach this conversation, not on the first damned night of being under his employment. “I work for your daddy, and my job is to look after you when he can’t, okay? That doesn’t mean I am, uh– A special friend of your daddy’s.”
As much as I wish to be, you whined internally — though saying that aloud would be catastrophic, you had no doubt about that. Focus.
“Oh.” That same thoughtful gleam returned in her eyes, and you braced for another round of interrogation — as intimidating as a child’s questions could be. “Well, I think you would be a nice special friend for daddy. He smiles a lot when he sees you.”
It was your turn to be absolutely dumbfounded. Words failed and escaped you; scattering to the winds, never to be seen again, while Starlet did nothing but stare up at you innocently, a soft smile pulling at her lips.
“Uh– Ha, well.” You coughed and leaned back a little, willing your mind to connect back with an acceptable train of thought. “Um– Thank you, thank you for that, sweetheart. That’s very sweet of you.”
Starlet beamed, brighter than the stars above. “You’re welcome.”
When she finally dozed off to sleep after your indulgent tale of Rapunzel, you padded ever so quietly from her bedroom and carefully closed the door with a soft click behind you.
You only made it a few steps towards the staircase before you had to stop and think — the dull thump of your back and shoulders hitting the wall made you grimace and look to Starlet’s door, though she did not rouse.
“Oh my fucking god,” you rasped, rubbing your face with your hands, distorting the sound of your distress. “Goddammit all, ugh.”
Desperation and pure want clawed at your insides, savaging your attempts to control your impulses; the need for Bucky’s attention blew out of proportion tenfold with the words from his daughter.
Carefully, you tiptoed down the stairs, one by one, until you stood in the kitchen.
“He smiles—he smiles when he talks about me,” you muttered, rubbing the back of your neck. The quiet sound of your feet padding over the tile grew in volume while you paced back and forth. “Bucky smiles—oh fucking hell.”
A war raged in your mind, split equal sides by morality and need; one side dead set on preventing you from making a fool of yourself, the other hell bent on allowing you in the indulgence of recklessness.
The possibility of it all not backfiring upon you was slim at best, but something nagged– No, pulled at your thoughts: what if Bucky felt the same?
“No, no,” you said aloud, grimacing. “That’s not possible—I can’t– He can’t, he’s older, successful–”
Your tirade was interrupted by a sudden beep from the security panel by the front door. “Front gate opened.”
“Shit.” You rushed to the front door and peered through the frosted glass. The fancy SUV that was parked next to your car before pulled into the driveway, headlights on and engine purring.
A heavy exhale of relief fell from your lips, and you resolutely decided to push the dilemma of his affection to the side; a project for the back burner that was your ever running mind.
The SUV parked and fell silent, the headlights and taillights dimming, and you turned back around towards the kitchen to heat up two plates of dinner in the oven — silently thanking your decision to make extra.
Footsteps sounded by the front door, and it swung open, not even creaking. “Fawn?” Bucky called quietly, his voice lowered so as to not awake Starlet upstairs. “Honey, where are you?”
“Kitchen—getting dinner for us.”
Soft footfalls came from the entryway and towards the kitchen, when Bucky rounded the corner. You smiled at him, which he returned tiredly. “Hey, how was Starlet? You okay?”
“She was great, we had fun, and she was sweet. I learned that Rapunzel is far superior over Sleeping Beauty, but nothing, of course, beats her ultimate favourite.” The oven behind you beeped, and you turned to open it and fetch the dish of food, but Bucky put a hand on your elbow and gestured for you to continue with your tale as he grabbed the oven mitts. “And she tried to worm more chocolate out of me, naturally.”
Bucky’s laugh sounded rich and deep, a sound you wished you could hear over and over. “I knew she would.” The dish in his hands was placed onto the countertop, and you set to cutting portions to eat; surreptitiously making sure Bucky had more than his fair share.
“Do you want to watch–”
“Why don’t we sit on the–”
The two of you stared at one another, eyes wide and smiles playing at the corners of your lips. “You first,” Bucky offered, chuckling quietly.
“I, uh– Do you want to sit on the couch–?”
“Sure, honey,” he replied, and he picked up your plate with his free hand. “Grab us a drink?”
You took a deep breath when Bucky turned his back to you. You’ve got this, you intoned.
Dinner was a quiet affair, and you were grateful for it — while it was your job and your pleasure to look after Bucky’s daughter, the little girl sure had boundless amounts of energy, and it was hard work keeping up with her.
After clearing your plate, you set it down onto the coffee table. Bucky was still going, so you settled into the plush cushions and watched the plain, mindless show without taking it in.
“Fawn, sweetheart?” Bucky whispered suddenly; voice close enough that you could feel the exhale of breath with his words.
You startled and blinked rapidly — the room was dark, the TV off and the lights dimmed.
“There you are,” Bucky cooed. He was sitting right next to you, his hand on your knee as he half faced you. “You fell asleep, honey—you feeling okay?”
“Oh– I, uh– Shit, I’m so sorry,” you rushed, sitting up. The blackened screen of the TV reflected the clock in the kitchen to show that it was only nine at night. “I better go—you no doubt want to go to sleep soon after such a big day–”
“Fawn, hey– Stop, it’s okay,” Bucky soothed, and he put a hand on your shoulder — the heat from his palm made your mind whirr with possibilities. “It’s okay. I let you sleep; you looked dead on your feet. I only woke you up because I thought you’d want to go home to your partner.”
Heat bloomed over your chest and up your neck, the way Bucky was staring at you made something stir that you would much rather stay dormant. “I, uh– Don’t have a partner, Mr. Barnes,” you whispered.
The silence could have engulfed you whole — tension billowed in the air, and you fidgeted, stubbornly refusing to meet his gaze.
“That’s okay, sweetheart,” Bucky said eventually, and you shivered at the sound of his voice; lowered an octave and raspy with what you guessed was shock. “I’m sorry, darling, I shouldn’t have assumed. But let’s get you home, okay?”
“Yeah,” you agreed, getting to your feet.
Bucky handed you your bag, all neatly packed and organised, and walked you to the front door and down the front steps. “I don’t mean to presume, but can I ask you back again to watch Starlet–?” he asked, looking at you.
“Of course,” you blurted, and you meant it. “She was a fun bundle of energy, and you know how to contact me if you need me again.”
You tried, wholeheartedly, to fight the flutter of butterflies in your stomach as Bucky opened your car door, and then took your bag to place it in the trunk. In a roundabout way, you wished he would be insufferable, even arrogant in his disposition — it would have made it easier to banish the swelling crescendo of want that started to consume you.
“Will you message me when you get home?”
“Yeah, yeah,” you said, nodding. “I– I will. I’ll talk to you soon.”
Bucky brought you close in an embrace you returned, and you savoured the warmth of his body; the feel of his arms around you as he held you tight.
Though it had to end.
You pulled away, out of his hold, and moved to sit in the driver’s seat of your car.
“Get home safe, Fawn.” Bucky closed the door after you tucked your feet into the well, and he leaned against the side of your car.
“I will.” You smiled up at him, and then you turned the keys in the ignition.
The car spluttered and clunked back to silence. Bucky was looking towards the hood of your car with concern. “Oh, it’s just temperamental,” you said to reassure him, and yourself.
You tried again; you tried a third time, but there was only a piteous groan from the engine before it gave in, falling silent each time. “Great, just great,” you muttered angrily, cursing your luck that carried on from when the car first showed signs of kicking the bucket. “Fuck.”
“Pop the bonnet,” Bucky said, adjusting his sleeves. “I’ll take a look.”
Oh, boy, you groaned internally at the sight of his forearms flexing again, but you complied.
The metal creaked and groaned its protest of movement when Bucky pulled the hood up, locking it in place with one hand while the other dug into the engine bay. A determined frown pulled his pretty lips at the corner. “The old girl is on her last legs,” he gritted out through clenched teeth while he fiddled and yanked at parts of the engine. “The mounts are close to giving out and it looks like the battery is… well, fucked.”
You sighed, the sound hitching on a frustrated sob. “Can you– Can you call me a cab? I’ll get someone to come tow it in the morning, or something–”
“Fawn,” Bucky said fiercely, and he looked at you while he closed the hood of your traitorous car. “Do you think I’m going to send you home with some stranger when you’re clearly and rightfully upset?”
“But–”
“But fucking nothing, sweetheart,” he insisted, his tone somehow soft — like he cared. “Please, I have a spare bedroom—fuck, I have several, and you are welcome to any one of them until we can get you home tomorrow.”
The use of a curse drove his point home, so did the earnest glare in his eyes.
Your shoulders slumped in defeat, and you gestured at yourself. “But I haven’t brought clothes– What about Starlet in the morning? She doesn’t know–” She will get the wrong idea; Bucky doesn’t know what she’s said, you silently fretted, but there was no way to give voice to your worries, not in your distress.
“Honey, please, you can use some of my old clothes—they’ll be comfortable, and you’ll be modest. Just let me help you,” Bucky implored. He held a hand out, an offering to guide you back inside. “We can work it all out in the morning. I’m off tomorrow, and hell, Starlet would love having a friend over for breakfast—it’s pancakes and bacon.”
“That does sound pretty good,” you murmured, wringing your hands. The nagging feeling of imposing upon his hospitality would not dissipate, though. “Are you sure? I–”
Bucky shook his head, an exasperated smile on his lips. “C’mere, Fawn,” he said, and he slung his arm over your shoulder. You attempted to clamp your jaw shut around the shocked sound in your throat. “I’m sure. I can’t leave my Fawn high and dry; not when I can help.”
“Okay,” you squeaked, and you allowed Bucky to lead you back into the house and up the stairs towards the bedrooms.
Without a word, he paused at the top of the stairs and retracted his arm, hanging it by his side as he walked towards a larger, single door — you moved to follow him, but he placed his index finger over his lips, before he disappeared behind it. The house was silent in the absence of Starlet’s giggles and rambling rants of royalty, and you found yourself fidgeting in place while you waited for that door to open again.
As though he heard you, Bucky opened the door and walked towards you, offering a worn, soft, black henley, and a pair of dark sweats. “Back in my twenties,” he began, smiling down at the offered clothes, “I was twice the size—fucking obsessed with vanity. But these will be comfortable.”
“Thank you,” you whispered, taking the offered clothes. The movement made your fingers brush against his, and something changed — the air grew thick with crackling energy that made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. “I– I will, uh, talk to you in the morning?”
Bucky nodded and stepped back; you tried not to whine from the loss of his proximity — luck was not on your side. Something must have shown of your inward pleading in your expression.
“Fawn?” he asked quietly, tilting his head. “You okay, sweetheart? You look–” He licked his lips, the action drawing your whole attention. “You look lost.”
“I’m fine,” you replied weakly, and you nodded once as though it would make it reality. Truthfully, you wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole — the late hour naturally stripped you of your inhibitions, and God…
You cursed temptation to the high heavens.
“You sure?” Bucky asked, and he stepped closer again, his presence looming near enough to make your heart thunder against the confines of your throat.
“Mhm.”
Bucky narrowed his eyes, and stepped forward again — you stepped back, forcing yourself not to melt onto the floor with how your knees shook. “Sweetheart… There’s something you’re not tellin’ me.”
The sudden dryness in your throat made you cough, and your eyes watered with the reflex. Bucky stepped closer and you backtracked until your heels hit the skirting board, your shoulders and back following close behind. “I– Ja– I mean, Bucky–”
His hands moved to either side of your head, effectively trapping you in place. “Yeah?”
Your mouth parted in shock, but nothing came to mind to defend yourself, or any urge to push him away.
Bucky hummed, tilting his head. “Fawn, you know if this isn’t okay you are more than welcome to knee me where the sun doesn’t shine—but look at you.” The breathy quality of Bucky’s voice made your stomach knot with arousal.
This was wrong, your mind screamed; this is what you want, your heart shouted.
“You’re desperately fighting against something, I see it; it's in your pretty eyes, baby,” he purred. “Talk to me—tell me what’s wrong, why are you fightin’?”
Bucky’s face loomed closer to yours, his lips parted only slightly, and you prayed for strength as you fisted his shirt, to pull or push him away, you couldn’t decipher — he was so, so close, if only you just reached out–
“What are you fightin’, my little Doe?”
“Oh– Bucky, please–” Thoughts swirled and escaped your grasp, faster than you could claim the words and the will to do the right damned thing. “Please, I– Hmph!”
His lips claimed yours, the softness of them insistent, desperate, and you moaned into his mouth from the rush of adrenaline. “Yes,” you breathed against his lips, and you threw your arms around his neck, forgoing your hold on his clothes.
The sweetness of Bucky’s lips made you chase them when he tried to pull back; you were starved for more, and he obliged your hunger by pushing you harder into the wall, his hands moving down your shoulders, your sides, to settle on your hips with a bruising grip.
Bucky’s tongue brushed along your bottom lip, and you moaned again, letting your tongue dance with his; the relief of finally allowing yourself to give into the urge you’d been constraining against was liberating in every manner, even if it were risky, you were determined to make the best of it.
It was only when he pulled back for breath did you realise he had been pawing at your hip and ass, the fabric bunched in his fists while he panted for air. “Fuck,” he murmured, and he started to laugh, the sound rumbling in his chest through the gasps for air. “Fuck.”
“Yeah, that,” you agreed breathlessly. “Fuck.”
The two of you stood in silence, catching your breaths, and you waited for the fall out of it all; the implosion that lurked around the corner.
“Fawn,” Bucky said quietly, and his index finger brushed along the underside of your chin; grey, inky eyes met yours with such intensity you almost collapsed under the heat of them. “I want you, baby—I wouldn’t have gambled my chances if I didn’t even have a hunch of what was going on in that pretty head of yours.”
“How did–”
“Never you mind, sweetheart. I’ve had my fair few rodeos with this; I can read you like a book.” The soft press of his lips against your forehead made your heart flutter. “Why don’t you get some sleep, hmm? We can talk in the morning—bright eyed and bushy tailed.” His quiet chuckle made your lips quirk up in a smile. “There’s my girl.”
You were unable to form the words to express the inner turmoil that brewed — that had been the best kiss of your life, Bucky liked you back, you hadn’t lost your job as you thought you would, and you were standing in Bucky’s home with an assortment of his clothes to wear while you slept.
“Fawn, baby,” Bucky teased, and he pulled you away from the wall. His hands rubbed down your arms before he knelt and picked up his discarded clothes, handing them to you with a smile. “Go to bed—you look like you’ve seen a ghost and been given the best news all at once. Get some sleep.”
The bedroom he guided you towards was spacious and just as luxurious as what you had seen of the rest of his home. Light colours filled the room; pastels and darker pops of paint made it contrast in a tasteful way, while the linen and pillows looked divine. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed across his chest and a smile on his swollen lips. “If you need anything, sweetheart, I’m just down there,” he said, pointing down the hall, back towards the room with the larger door. “Sleep well and I’ll see you in the morning.”
You looked at him, blinked, then smiled. “Yeah– Yeah, goodnight, Bucky.”
Relief, elation, fear all flooded you at once as you sidled up the mattress and under the covers. They drowned you beneath the waves of overwhelming thoughts of what would happen now; fear for what your future held.
Would it include Bucky? What would Starlet think?
It all amounted to the sheer relief that while you hadn’t initiated the risk, it happened, and your courage bound and leaped with joy for it.
And if you did a little squeal of joy and grinned wide enough to make your cheeks hurt as you tucked yourself into the plush blankets to sleep, it was nobody's business but your own.
the next part is already written. 😉🤭
⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁
⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁
#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x f!reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fluff#dilf bucky barnes#rookthorne's works#babb2023#alternate juneiverse#SweetSpicyHearts
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14:00
Warnings: Death, CPR, car accident, blood, head injury, stud’s causing blood, match abandoned, panic attack?, ankle injury, vomit(barely, bile), badly translated Spanish - google translated (has english though too).
A/N: Part 2? If yes Angsty or Fluffy?? Or both??
One minute you were walking down the street with your best friend, the next minute you were on call with 112, about to start CPR on your best friend. Every minute that went by she slipped further and further away. The women who hit her. The women who didn’t even know her was breaking down. Her continuous screams of “I’m sorry” pierced your ears over and over. This women, a women who didn’t even know her was allowed to break down but you couldn't. You had to fight back the tears that brimmed your eyes. You had to stay strong. Watch how her chest caved inward with every compression. Watch as the colour faded away from her body slowly, as blood spilled out of her. Watch as her pupils dilated further. Watch as her chest caved in slightly less with every compression and feel how your arms burnt more with every compression, your breath becoming more ragged with every minute, becoming increasingly aware of your heart that pounded in your chest. A wave of relief should’ve washed over you as you heard the sirens but it didn’t, instead you steadily became increasingly aware of the severity of the situation you we’re in.
“Señorita, ¿puede dar un paso atrás? Nos haremos cargo.(Miss, can you step back, we will take over.)” You didn't even look at him, not even a glance, your mind was laser focused, nothing else could get in. You had to keep going. You couldn't stop. She couldn't die. A hand was placed on your shoulder and it pulled you back, the paramedics immediately resumed CPR, you knelt there, trembling, tears threatening to leave your eyes, but you didn’t let them win.
“¿Puedo comprobarte? (Can I check you out?)” A voice said as they placed a hand on your back, you flinched “No, no, estoy bien, estoy bien (No, no I’m fine, I’m fine)” you reassured yourself. Because you were fine, you weren’t the one dying on the pavement.
----
“Ella ha estado codificando durante una hora, llámalo (She’s been coding for an hour, call it)” “Hora de la muerte 14:00 (Time of death 14:00)” you turned around, walked away, not noticing some of your teammates standing there, they all expected you to break but you didn’t. 14:00 signalled your best friend’s time of death, it also signalled the death of your ability to feel any emotion, you walked straight out of the hospital and back home, like a robot, monotone, you continued to just go through the daily motions of life for weeks, somehow not feeling any emotion. Until Alexia decided to try and get through to you one day.
“Y/N! aquí ahora(here now),” up until this point she was letting you go, when you didn't respond when you ignored her, but she wasn’t letting you go this time.
“Why are you training?” she bluntly said “What do you mean?” you snapped knowing very well what she meant, ever since that day your ankle had been hurting, but you had managed to hide it, until today, you had a slight limp, but you hoped no one noticed.
“Your ankle is hurt.” “No, it's not, I’m fine.” “Y/N,” “I’m fucking fine Alexia, what don’t you understand about that, estoy bien, is that better, do you understand now, can't you just leave me alone, that's all anyone has been doing for weeks.” Alexia was hurt, you had insinuated she was dump, but she wasn't going to continue pushing. she knew you didn't like talking about your emotions, they all did, but your last words repeated over in her head, was leaving you alone doing more harm than good, did you feel like you couldn't show emotion. She didn't know but she had just seen some sort of emotion from you, in your words and eyes, you had been aggressive and defensive, but your last words made her feel you were one trigger, one thing away from letting it all out.
____
It was only a week later when you were forced to show real and raw emotions again, there was a corner, and instead of Hannah Hampton’s glove hitting the ball she punched Lucy straight in the temple, causing the older women to fall to the ground with a thud, laying there lifeless, before she took studs to the shoulder as one of the Chelsea players stumbled backwards. She laid there lifeless blood pouring out of her, she couldn’t die, not this way, not the same way, your vision glazed over as the image of Lucy turned into your best friend, the sudden present of emotions choked you, the cries of the women met your ears again, the sirens, the paramedics, suddenly you couldn’t breath you had to get out of there, you ran, quickly, and found yourself hiding under a bench in the corner of the locker room, your were curled up as physically small as you could get, tears flooded out your eyes as you rocked, your hands squeezing the life from your legs, in an attempt to try and stay grounded.
Alexia had followed you, but she couldn't bring herself to moved further into the room, she just stood in the doorway not knowing what to do.
Ingrid came up behind her, informed her captain the game was abandoned, before the Norwegian women moved towards you and Alexia left, only to be greeted with all of her teammates standing in the hall, she was unsure of what to do, ever thankful that Emma offered they share the Chelsea showers, as quickly as possible your teammates came in collected all their things and quickly left, leaving just you and Ingrid in the room, the women had been trying to coax you out of your head and at least slightly back with her words, trying not to startle you, but it wasn’t working, she had no option but to place a very soft hand on your arm, which caused you to jump in sheer panic, you only ever so slightly opened a gap between your leg and arm to see who it was, but it was enough for Ingrid to see how much of a state you were in, your eyes wide open, pupils dilated in fear, tears streaming down your face.
Once you realised it was Ingrid, someone safe, someone soft, you immediately launched yourself at her, before yet again curling into the smallest ball you could in her lap, clutching at her jersey, which was quickly soaked from your tears, she held onto you tight, placing her chin on top of your head, rocking you softly as you continued to sob, as your body shook, as you were falling apart in her arms, and she was just glad someone was there when you did fall apart, her biggest fear the whole time had been what if someone wasn't there when you broke, when your heart cracked open, when the temporary tape that kept your heart together broke, but here she was, the tape had broken, causing your heart to shatter, and Ingrid was there to hold you. At some stage Mapi had come in, and sat next to Ingrid, she placed a cautious hand on your back and left it there, not moving it.
---
Your mouth started to fill with saliva, and your body rolled forward before you were met with a sour fluid in your mouth, Ingrid quickly moved a sick bag up to your mouth, and you spat out the bile before taking a small sip of water and resuming your tight ball, your eyes were still streaming, although your body had stopped shaking as much as it was. The two women resumed, their positions of just sitting there, in silence, with you, both knowing you would talk about it with time, both knowing you didn't want to be pushed, and you didn't want someone telling you it was okay, or that it would be okay because no one in life actually knew whether it would be okay or not. So they sat there with you, giving you the physical comfort and reassurance you needed, having no intention of moving until you wanted to.
---
“Go,” you said so quietly the two women barely registered it, you didn't know how long it had been, but you felt okay now, you felt ready to go and talk about it.
“Sure, you’re going to stay with us though okay,” you didn't say anything, just nodded, you were thankful you didn't have to go home to your cold apartment which was once filled with warmth from your best friend, the apartment that was once filled with laughter, once filled with joy. Ingrid lifted you up with her, and as you stood your ankle was throbbing, but it had been for the past week, what was different, however it was different when you took your first step towards the exit, a simple step caused so much pain, from one simple step your knee buckled under you as a shooting pain rose up your leg. Ingrid quickly wrapped a hand around your waist, steadying you.
“I-Ing, um, c-could we, p-pos-posibly g-go t-to the, the physios f-first?” you softly stuttered, she looked at you slightly bewilder that you had opened up so quickly about your ankle that everyone knew was hurt, the one that was clearly hurt the day Alexia called you out for it and you insisted you were fine, even though it was evident you weren't, both of them were concerned that it had somehow gotten worse in the past hour both just standing there not knowing what to do, “my-my an-ankle,” she nodded, and Mapi quickly moved ahead of you both to see if the Chelsea physios were still there and whether they could look at you or not.
“Our physios aren’t here, but the Chelsea physios are going to take care of you,” they looked over you, before getting an x-ray. “It's broken, but we are worried about ligament damage since it looks to be a stress fracture, she is going to need to get scans at the hospital,” your body stiffened at his words, as your eyes widen and you started trembling “no-no-no hospital,” you pleaded, “Can’t you just put her in a boot and give her crutches, other than possible surgery what else would they do different if it was ligaments too.” Ingrid tried to reason with them, “We can but there is a possibility that if we don’t do the scan on her ankle today she could have to have a bigger surgery and longer recovery, or will be in pain every time she plays forever” “Qué más va a hacer una semana o dos? ya ha pasado un mes” (What more is a week or two going to do. It has already been a month)
#woso#woso community#woso fanfics#woso x reader#woso imagine#barca femeni x reader#barcelona femeni#barca femeni#barca women#ingrid engen x reader
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Hiya, I love reading what you've done so far with the Vees, I was wondering if I could request a bit more for Velvette x pet reader (whether it's physical affection or just how she'd mark/show you as hers), or her just slowly becoming more obsessed with you. I don't know, I just need more of this woman.
How does velvette show ownership over Vs pet reader
Thank you so much, I hope you like this :)
Warnings: forced affection, forced ownership, abuse, obsessiveness
Velvette has always felt a slight bit of insecurity and jealousy over the fact that she wasn’t actually the one who owned your soul
She knew that the Vs shared everything, even souls and workers
But she always had that irrational irritation over the fact that you made the deal with vox instead of her, making him your actual owner
She knows realistically that you can’t refuse any order she gives you, you’d be severely punished within minutes and vox would surely yank on your leash to remind you that the mutts preform tricks when an owner commands it
So she counteracts this with her own methods instead
She’s always felt envious when she sees vox bring out the chained leash that connected your soul to his ownership and how easily he could make you submit to his will with a single yank of the chain, so velvette decided she’d give you a collar too
She’d always disliked the markings around your neck, she saw them as a crude reminder of your brutal death
So when she presented you with a tight collar in her colour scheme and with a golden V on the front, she thought you’d see it as a favour to you
She’d seen the away you rub the marks around your neck with a grimace, sometimes making the skin irritated and sore
She thought you’d see the collar as an ingenious remedy for your insecurities and her need for control
You did not
You initially tried to refuse the collar but with one threat of putting the one she picked on or she could happily have Val lend you a shock collar instead, you donned the cruel reminder of your lack of freedom
She’d have you wear the collar whenever you were working with her, and on the days she felt particularly in need of control she’d attach a matching leash to it and have it wrapped around her fist at all times
That way you’d have to follow her wherever she went no matter what
This only further made you out to be a hopeless pet puppy who followed the Vs around like a loyal mutt to your coworkers, who would also yank on your leash or collar whenever the Vs weren’t looking
Another way velvette would show ownership over you would be whenever she spots someone in the tower trying to pursue a friendship or relationship with you
Anything like a friendly smile from someone else and she’s rushing to your side and interlocking your arms in a painful hold or holding your hand with a harsh amount of pressure
The affection will show that your owned to the other demons, and the pain would remind you of your lack of freedom or choice in this agreement
Velvette hates affection most of the time, so as soon as that person who got too friendly with you has left she’ll let go
Unless she’s having a particularly vulnerable day
If something has set her off that day and she needs to calm down, she’ll lay her head down on you and command you to play with her hair
It’s a gesture that reminds her of childhood in a simplistic way, and you are the only person who she’d allow to do this for her
If she felt particularly jealous one day, she’d command you to do this while in the room with vox
It’s like her own private ‘fuck you’ to him that you follow her commands
I also think velvette would absolutely dress you up in clothes in her style and colour scheme to show ownership
I actually believe that she’d pick your clothes out every night ready for the morning
It’s the way she proves her ownership of you to you
She’s always had a present fear in the back of her mind that you’ll start to rebel against her because you know she’s not the one who owns your soul, so this action of controlling your clothing is reminder to you that there is no escaping that you are also hers
She needs you to know your hers, that you belong to her and that she’s never letting you go now that you’ve become an obsessive project for her
#hazbin valentino#hazbin hotel valentino#hazbin charlie#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin spoilers#yandere hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin angel dust#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin vox#yandere vox x reader#vox#vox x reader#velvette x reader#yandere velvette x reader#hazbin hotel velvette#yandere valentino#valentino x reader#yandere alastor x reader#alastor x reader
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You think you know someone. [Fred Weasley x Reader]
Title: You think you know someone.
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader
Timeline: OOTP- canon and timelines altered for purposes of the story. Some bits have been exaggerated for artistic purposes. Based more on the films than the books. Reader joins DA but what if instead of Cho ratting them out, it’s you?
Summary: You had everything during your time at Hogwarts- good friends, Fred Weasley as your boyfriend and a promising future, until Dolores Umbridge turns up.
Warnings: This one turned out a little dark. Mentions of injury, torture, bullying, wounds, blood. Umbridge is a bitch. Snape is a bully. Use of unforgivable curses. Punishment. Kissing, pranks, swearing. Dumbledore’s Army and resistant forces. Brief mentions of Voldemort and probable war. Pet names: baby, sweetheart, princess. Not beta read. Happy ending I promise.
Word count: 9.3k (I feel like I’ve written a novel here)
This work is gifted to @kellyxo1 thanks to the wonderful request that I couldn’t turn down! I’m sorry it’s taken me a while to get this out but it’s been a complete labour of love and I hope you like it!💕
You knew Dolores Umbridge was trouble the moment you spotted her in the Great Hall, her gaudy pink outfit and matching pink cheeks made her stick out like a sore thumb amongst the classic, muted colour pallet you knew to be Hogwarts. Her smile unnerved you, the cold expression in her eyes never once matching the infallible twisted, sadistic smile that so often painted her face. Everything about her rang alarm bells in your mind.
Fred and George had been sitting either side of you at the banquet table in the Great Hall as she took centre stage and delivered her speech about being very good friends, as ominous and foreboding as it seemed.
"That's likely," the twins had mumbled, resting their heads on their hands, elbows on the table as a small act of rebellion against the airs and graces she clearly put on. You'd subconsciously scooted closer to Fred when she stood, reaching for his spare hand under the table that he'd offered you, sensing a little of your discomfort. Fred was always acutely aware of your emotions, able to read you like a book, you supposed it was a natural consequence of being together for so long.
You'd met on the first day of Hogwarts when you'd stepped into the train compartment he shared with George, locked eyes and the rest was history. You'd been dating since your second year, both of you unable to deny the childlike crushes and stolen glances of your attraction and as you grew up, you grew together. Now you were in your last year, with big plans ahead of Fred and George's business which you'd planned to help them with initially and bigger promises of moving in together in the flat above the shop. The natural progression of a happy relationship and an exciting prospect that kept you motivated to finish school on a high.
The atmosphere at Hogwarts was different this year: understandably tense and foreboding, not just because of Cedric's death and the rumoured return of Voldemort but of the disquiet around Harry's claims and the propagandistic reporting from the Daily Prophet refuting Harry's claims. It seemed everyone was divided into wether they believed Harry or if they believed what they were reading in the media. It was evident that the ministry had worked hard to deny and deflect Harry'a claims, disparaging and slandering him publicly. Of course the arrival of a certain Pink adorned dementor didn't help things, especially when she, as new defense against the dark arts teacher, did away with the old curriculum and removed any defensive, practical teaching in favour of simple theory- which would be of no use in real life situations, of which you were all undoubtedly facing. Then the educational decrees began where she was appointed Hogwarts' high inquisitor and sought to change anything she was as unsatisfactory, backed by the ministry, which seemed to propel the whole school further and further away from what it should be teaching and how it should be preparing it's students for what was inevitably happening.
"She can't do this! It's ridiculous, George is fuming, never mind Fred," you overheard Ginny say as you were about to take a seat for dinner but quickly stopped as you gave her a questioning look, not knowing what she meant, her eyes focusing in on your frozen form.
"What?"
"You haven't seen the new decree?" She asks curiously, placing down her fork onto the plate. You shook your head briefly before walking quickly out of the hall, dinner be damned to examine the wall of decrees, trying to fix your eyes onto the new plaque on the wall.
Educational Decree No. 30: All Weasley products will be banned immediately.
You rushed upstairs to the common room, split in two minds about wether they would be there or on the quidditch pitch, trying to expel their frustrations... until you remembered that broom flying had been outlawed unless part of a lesson or during Quidditch games, as few and far between as they were coming due to the constant cancelling.
When you found them in their dorm, George was pacing the room, kicking the wooden frame of his bed after every circuit whilst Fred sat perched on his own bed, face downcast and eyes filled with anger.
You knew it wouldn't stop them, nothing ever did, but the business they forged from nothing had suffered for a while as students were afraid of the repercussions of being searched and found with their products.
"Can't sell my products, can't fly a broom, can't even kiss my own girlfriend unless I find a way to snog her from six inches away!" Fred had been furious and rightly so but there seemed to be no hope in sight.
It seemed no one was unaffected by the drastic measures Umbridge was taking and you were all facing the consequences of the increasing restrictions, in multiple ways. You'd been given detention for the stupidest things, including casting a spell to undo the jinx Malfoy had placed on Neville one afternoon, another leg lock jinx that you'd fixed for him, received another for the muggle book in your possessions and another for deigning to be within six inches of George. The punishment was cruel and twisted but you'd hidden it from Fred, knowing how protective he was and how he'd act out to retaliate against her which would only land him in worse trouble. She seemed to focus on you in particular, for whatever reason you weren't sure but she hardly hid her distaste for you publicly. Fred said it was because of your connection to him and George but you weren't sure, it seemed more personal than that.
It had been Hermione's brilliant idea to forge a sort of rebellion in order to actually learn the practical side of defence and you'd been eager to sign up after attending the first meeting at the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade, knowing that you had to arm yourself in whatever way you could, the feeling of unease at the current climate always looming overhead. You'd been pleasantly surprised by the turn out, seeing many familiar faces as you'd walked hand in hand with Fred into the small, freezing cold room as you waited for Harry, Ron and Hermione. Cho, Luna, Neville, Ginny, Michael and so many others from Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had turned out to fight for the cause and as you looked around the room of friends and familiars, it was evident that this could work.
You'd signed the parchment Hermione had brought with no hesitation, lining up between Fred and Ginny, clearly marking your name under his in the pencil provided. As you walked back to the castle in a group, Fred's arm around you and his hat in your head to keep the cold away from your ears, you felt determined and inspired to make this work. You'd just need to find somewhere to practice away from the prying eyes of the inquisitor.
Then came Educational Decree No.68: All student organisations are henceforth be disbanded. Any student in noncompliance will be expelled.
This time, you weren't angered or afraid of the newly instated restriction but instead felt empowered to rebel. Neville, in a feat of brilliance, had discovered the room of requirement one Saturday afternoon as he made his way down the seventh floor corridor. It was perfect, exactly what was needed, and you'd all wasted no time in putting the room to good use.
Within just two weeks, you'd mastered disarming spells, stunning spells, hexes, jinxes and defensive charms that you'd never thought you could do. Ginny had proven herself to be incredibly skilled and you'd stood watching in amazement as two magpies flying around the room, both coming from your boyfriend and his twin. The twins had taken to placing bets, mostly against Ron, all of you in good spirits about finally being able to do magic again. You and Fred took full advantage of being shielded away from the eyes of Hogwarts and had taken to lingering in the room after the sessions so you could be close to each other, to kiss freely and be intimate again. It had seemed so long, so cruel to have to keep away from him, at least in public and as you watched him master spells so effortlessly and looking so deliciously hot as he did it, often with messy hair and rolled up sleeves, it was exactly what you needed to relieve yourself of the building frustrations.
Fun and laughter had once again returned to Hogwarts, though shielded from the regulating eyes, it was just like before. The twins had even taken to pranking again, no longer concerned by the changes, including giving Filch laced chocolates which made him erupt with giant, puss-filled boils on his face when he got too close to the scent of your secret gatherings.
Educational decree No. 82: All students will submit to questioning about suspected illicit activities.
Umbridge had began to gather students for an inquisitorial squad which would earn them credit for joining, most notably the Slytherin students that weaselled their way into Umbridge's good books. Most probably by being pure bloods. They took great pleasure in pulling up the younger students in particular for punishment or questioning and abused their powers frequently.
Then you returned to school after winter break and the news of the Azkaban breakout happened, constant storms were forecasted, Umbridge's cruel regime heightened. Everything felt so restrictive, so unnecessary, so twisted. The only place you found solace was during DA meetings when you could be yourself, free to act and perform as you wanted surrounded by your friends and boyfriend. Always alert at the imposing threat, knowing Filch was on to you all and the rest of the inquisitorial squad which only fuelled you to keep discreet.
It had been a regular day of classes until your DADA lesson where you'd been required by the toad to write an essay on the benefits of conversational reasoning as opposed to practical magic to handle disputes with half breeds and lower class species, such as centaurs. You'd almost immediately refused to write such things, particularly due to the disgusting terms used to class different species but also due to the ridiculous concept.
"I am teaching you verified way of effective communication, in which you do not have to use your wand," she defends with a sickeningly fake smirk.
"Or our brains by taking away our autonomy," you'd argued, not even under your breath.
"Are you questioning my methods of teaching miss y/l/n? By all means if you think you can do better I should like to see you try."
"Can't be hard, Professor Quirrel did a better job and he shared a head and a singular brain cell with Voldemort."
A murmur of concealed laughter burst from the students around you and for a singular moment you felt the victory of it, empowered even.
"Detention!" She's utterly outraged, her face turning a dangerous shade of fuchsia. You could feel the eyes on you, most notably your boyfriend and his twin from across the room but you didn't care. Since returning to school you'd been torn away from Fred, unable to be anywhere near each other and certainly not in a group with your friends as it would break at least three decrees. You were frustrated and had hit breaking point, anger simmering in you but why you didn't know. You'd completely had enough.
"It's a date Dolores," you said sarcastically with the sickliest smile you could muster. More snickers erupted around you and even a clap that sounded suspiciously like it came from the direction of your future brother in law.
"My office, now!" She screams, pointing with her pink tipped finger towards the door. You grabbed your stuff from the desk and walked out without a single look in anyone's direction. On your way to her office, you pulled the special coin from your pocket and checked over the date and time to check you had it right. There was a DA meeting later that evening and you'd hoped this would be over quickly so that you could still attend.
Only, that never happened. Instead you'd been tortured for hours in the cruelest of ways, repeatedly questioned over your involvement with the alleged group and had been forced to drink truth serum until the words had slipped out of your mouth. You'd had no control over it, no way of resisting any longer and with great shame, you'd told her about the room of requirement, completely unable to stop the words from coming out.
The inquisitorial squad was on you in mere moments, as soon as Umbridge had signalled them from outside the door and Malfoy's grubby hands were pulling your weak and exhausted body from the chair before you could even register the intrusion. The things you'd been through, the pain and the anguish, it was nothing compared to the fear you felt at the DA being discovered; you could only pray that you'd held out long enough so that the meeting was over.
"Where is it?!" Umbridge screamed into your face when you wouldn't disclose the exact location of the room of requirement, having already inadvertently let slip that the room was your meeting place. You gave her your darkest look, no longer feeling controlled by whatever she had obviously put in your tea. When she didn't get an answer, her hand struck you hard right across the cheek but you hardly flinched, hardly feeling the pain anymore.
"I know the way Ma'am," Filch said, his saggy face appearing around the corner creepily, his features twisting into a vulgar, perverse smile. You could hardly look at Umbridge's face as it twisted into a pleased, twisted grin as she fixed her jacket and allowed Filch to lead her. Malfoy grabbed hold of your robes tighter in his fist and you were dragged along with them until you reached the seventh floor.
You felt sick to your stomach, wanting to scream and cry, resist in anyway you could as you fought against Malfoy's hold but you were physically tired and weak. Crabbe had grabbed hold of the other side of you, your thrashing too much for Malfoy to hold down by himself and his hands were much tougher against your skin, no doubt leaving bruises in their wake. When the door to the room of requirement didn't appear, you felt hopeful that she'd realise you were lying, even if that meant horrendous consequences for you. There was no way of warning them, nothing you could do to allow them to flee, you'd have to watch as they were all caught redhanded. They'd think you ratted them out, your friends, the love of your life. You knew it was exactly what Umbridge wanted, to turn everyone against you- and she was undoubtedly going to get it.
"Bombarda Maxima," her eerily calm and squeaky voice rang out as she pointed her want at the wall. Your scream mixed in with the large bang as a giant hole was created in the wall, depris and dust flying everywhere.
When the dust cloud cleared, you were dragged off from the side viciously by Malfoy and Crabbe until you were presented in front of the Army- your friends. You didn't want to look up from your spot on the floor, still fighting against their holds on you but something made you look up. And then you met his eyes.
Fred had never looked at you that way, ever. The looks of love and adoration you'd become accustomed to over the years, the playfulness and the intimate looks, it was all gone. The look in his eyes would haunt you forever, the coldness, betrayal and the resentment and it was explicitly clear what his expression told you.
He believed that you ratted them out, believed that you could ever do that to him, to them all.
You had to look away, desperate to see any hope that someone believed you, that someone sympathised with the torment you'd endured but as your eyes travelled across to George, you stopped short. He looked furious with you, disgusted and despite everything you'd been through in the past few hours, you'd receive no sympathy or chance to explain yourself to the people you loved.
You were dragged away as Umbridge dealt with the Army, bestowing threats and punishments upon them that you couldn't hear. You no longer fought against the holds of the Slytherins but instead went willingly, feeling guilty, shame and simply dirty for your role in all of this, even if it wasn't your fault.
Members of the ministry arrived not too long after, having been alerted prior to the discovery of the DA. You couldn't look at Kingsley, much too distraught to see his look of disgust at you, no doubt planning to tell the Order what you'd done. Harry was ushered in not long after having been caught in the skirmish. His newfound hatred of you seemed to radiate off him as he stood beside you and this alone made you want to scream and cry out of frustration, tears welling in your eyes that you wouldn't allow to spill.
The final straw was when Percy walked in, without so much as a glimmer of recognition towards you and took over from Malfoy to restrain you and Harry, keeping the shoulder of your robe balled up in his hand. The minister ordered him to dispatch an owl to the Daily Prophet and he diligently nodded, trying to manoeuvre you along with him.
"Get off me Weatherby," you demanded viciously, fighting against his hold and managing to break free, only to be stopped as you all looked on in amazement as Dumbledore disappeared out of sight in a magnificent display.
You'd hoped after that, you'd be able to get Harry alone, to explain yourself to him, to tell him what had happened but he'd completely avoided you, blanked you entirely. You hardly blamed him but you needed to explain, to clear your name. Umbridge then commanded Harry to join her in the hall where the punishment was being conducted, all of the DA together.
You'd been permitted to return to your dorm after the meeting had finished but you stood outside of the hall doors, desperate to see Fred and explain yourself, hoping he could bring you at least an ounce of comfort. Your head was pounding from the pain earlier and the marks on your arms were throbbing, sore and weeping though you fought not to look at them, knowing the pain would only be worse when you saw what was tormenting you. You couldn't go to Madame pomfrey, Umbridge had made that very clear and so you suffered in complete silence until you could reach out for your friends.
You lingered outside of the door for what felt like hours, the anxiety and the nerves you felt seemingly freezing time. When the doors opened, the members of the DA began pouring out with soured looks on their faces which only heightened when they caught sight of you. It was never hard to spot Fred and George amongst a crowd, their towering height easily distinguishable amongst a sea of people.
The look on everyone's face was near identical, the disgust and the resentment evident in their eyes as they spotted you but none clearer than the twins. George looked like he detested you, his face scrunched into a look of utter distaste, eyes glaring into you as he walked past without a care. Fred looked away, ignoring your presence completely as he glided past you without muttering a single word, his face stone cold and void of expression.
"Freddie, please," you said weakly and emotionally, with tears in your eyes, turning around in the spot as he walked past you. But nothing, he didn't turn, didn't react, simply walked away without so much as a single glance.
"Harry," you implored, taking a step towards him but he too blanked you again, pushing past you and walking quickly up the steps to avoid you.
You stood alone in the cold and empty corridor, feeling more isolated and alone than you ever had and finally allowed yourself to cry. Silent tears fell down your cheeks, shoulders sagging as you cried for everything you had undoubtedly lost, for the treatment you'd received and for the pain you still felt in your head and arms. Finding a spot in a hidden corner, you finally allowed yourself to pull up the sleeve of your robe and look upon the damage that Umbridge had inflicted with her sadistic quill. It was horrendous, an onslaught of slurs and vicious words etched into your body, no doubt intentionally done to leave the scars as a permanent reminder.
You sobbed your heart out in that little nook between two cold, stone pillars as you tried desperately to heal the marks but no spell was strong enough even to numb it in your weakened state.
You eventually made your way to Gryffindor tower, stepping through the portrait and finding the common room practically deserted. You sighed and walked up the stone steps to your dorm, only to find that the door had been shut and your blanket and pillow had been thrown outside of it, a clear sign you were not welcome even within your own dorm. You were painfully exhausted and wanted nothing more than to curl up in your bed and cry into your pillow until you eventually passed out. But you didn't even deserve that.
With a heavy sigh, you collected your blanket and pillow and trudged down the steps back towards the common room, eyes blurry through a mixture of tiredness and tears. You stopped short the second you crossed the last step, seeing Fred and George step in through the portrait hole, your stomach flipping nervously as you anticipated a barrage of insults or horrible pranks, their allegiance turning from you now.
"Fred, Freddie please," you begged, dropping your makeshift bedding to walk towards him, trying to reach out for him. You paused as you saw the redness on the back of his left hand, a clearly fresh punishment, 'I must not break rules'. George intercepts immediately and barges past you, blocking you from getting to Fred as he turns his twin away from you.
"You think you know someone," George mutters as he gently nudges Fred up the stairs, sending you a vicious glare before he walks up after him, once again leaving you alone. Fred didn't even spare a single glance at you, not even to recoil away.
You curled up in a corner armchair as soon as the tears appeared, pathetically dragging the blanket over you and cried until you fell asleep in the uncomfortable chair.
The two weeks that followed were the absolute worst weeks of your life. Umbridge had stripped you of everything you loved in one fell swoop, turned everyone against you and left the place you called home feeling miserable and lonely. You deserved it, you knew that, having ratted them out. You'd antagonised her and now had to live through then consequences, as cruel and twisted as they were.
The glares from everyone you had once called friends hadn't stopped, especially from George, which hurt the most. Fred had outright ignored any effort you'd made to reach out to him, no matter how desperate you'd sounded or how hard you'd tried to make him understand. He didn't care. He believed the lie.
The first week you'd tried to take your meals with the rest of the Gryffindors but it was made abundantly clear to you that you were not permitted nor welcome to join your friends and had been cruelly banished to the end of the table, beside the first years. The second week you'd stopped attending meals at all, not able to push through the shame and embarrassment of being cast away, exiled from your group. Lessons were monotonous and any down time was utterly excruciating as you were left enclosed with the other Gryffindors, namely your ex boyfriend, though no one would make any contact with you. You'd tried to sleep in your dorm but the girls had done nearly everything to prevent you from actually sleeping, talking loudly, setting off whizzbangs inside your curtains and had even transfigured your blanket a few times to varying degrees of horrid things. At the end of the night when you were certain everyone was asleep, usually very late, you'd creep down to the common room and huddle into your uncomfortable chair to sleep, only to be woken mere hours later when the first of the easy risers woke up. Your life was hell.
"There's just something I don't understand," Hermione says as they all stand on the bridge, the golden trio, Ginny and the Twins, all wrapped up in warm clothes and sweaters as they discuss the changes put into place since Umbridge had taken over as Headmistress. Naturally, the conversation had diverted to you, something Fred was entirely displeased about. The group turn to Hermione after her words, intrigued by the change in tone. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes before opening them again, as if building the strength to say her next sentence.
"I jinxed the enrolment parchment, for Dumbledore's Army," she admits, not quite meeting the gaze of the group around her. "It was purely a preventative measure, incase we were betrayed by one of our own. The person who disclosed any secrets would be jinxed to break out in spots, to spell out 'sneak' across their forehead, so we knew who the betrayer was. Y/N didn't have that, she never even had a single spot."
"Blimey Hermione," Ron says a little breathlessly, disbelieving she'd have actually gone that far.
"I know," she says a little defensively, "I just can't work out how she got around it!"
"Maybe she wrote her name wrong? Did she know about the jinx?" Harry suggests but Hermione shook her head, at the very same time that Ginny replied.
"I was behind her, I saw her write her name. It was right."
"Maybe the jinx didn't work?" Harry suggests carefully but stops himself when he receives a forceful glare from Hermione at the very notion of her failure.
"What does it matter? She dobbed us in wether or not she's covered in spots!" Ron says rather harshly, leaning against the wooden bannister.
Fred can't listen anymore, completely overwhelmed by the conversation and the thought of you betraying them. He turns and walks off back towards the castle without so much as a word to the others, not even his twin, and ignores their calls of his name as they watch him fade into the distance.
Spotting you sitting alone in the corner of the room when he returns to the common room, he frowns to himself. He'd known you since the moment you stepped on the Hogwarts express and had loved you for nearly just as long. It was wrong to see you sat alone, so sad and without the usual spark you naturally emitted. Everyone had always been drawn to you, your humour and wit, your dazzling smile, the fact you made everyone aroun you feel comfortable and valued. Too many boys had been drawn to you for his liking but you'd never even given them the time of day, never once wavering in your loyalty to him or ever made him doubt that it was him you wanted. You'd spent years supporting him, helping him and George develop their products, cheering for him loudly at every Quidditch game and had wormed your way into the hearts of every single one of his family members. Secretly, it crushed him to see you so lonely and tired, even if he still felt the sting of your betrayal.
It didn't add up, though he wouldn't disclose this to any of the more angered members of the group, why you would do such a thing. You'd been excited to start the DA, had joined in enthusiastically, kept the secret for so long and most of all you completely despised Umbridge. He couldn't deny that he still loved you, even though he was conflicted with his feelings now, he still held out hope that this would all go away, that there was a reasonable explanation but his anger wouldn't allow him to listen. It killed him to push you away, wanting nothing more than for things to return to normal but he felt a deep sense of betrayal that he couldn't shift.
"Fred?" He heard from behind him, pulling him out of his musings making him realise that he'd been staring at you all this time as he turned towards the person addressing him. Her name was Emery Atkinson, a Gryffindor from the year below that he'd never really acknowledged or spent much time with.
"Yeah?" He replies politely though he couldn't escape the edge of irritation after being pulled away from his thoughts. He watches as the girl giggles as soon as he acknowledges her and tucks a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.
"Oh good I got the right twin!" She giggles, ignorant to the blank look she received from Fred. "I was wondering if you had some canary creams I could buy? My brother loves them and it's his birthday soon. Your inventions are so clever, I don't know how you and George find the time between your studies and Quidditch, it must be exhausting. You're so good as Quidditch, I always cheer you on. Plus your girlfriend, but I heard that you weren't together anymore right?"
Truthfully, Fred had only registered the first half of her speech, tuning out after Canary Creams but his attention had been drawn back at the mention of you. He can't help but feel that little stab of sadness at the mention of you, especially someone referring to you as his girlfriend, or Ex rather. In the back of his mind he wonders if you heard that, from your short distance away, he hoped not.
"I still can't believe it, why would she do that? If I was with you I wouldn't even dream of ruining it." She sounds faux-scandalised and quite frankly, rather bitchy as he reaches out to touch the sleeve of his sweater. Fred doesn't humour her and instead takes half a step back subtly, reaching to scratch the back of his head as a discreet way of getting her off.
"Er, yeah I think we have some creams leftover, I'll send George over with some later, alright?"
"Not you?" She says with a sad little face, trying out her best puppy dog eyes that have absolutely no affect on him.
"George deals with the confectionery," he says a little too quickly; which is a complete lie. "Sorry, I've got somewhere to be but I'll let him know you're interested in buying."
He breaks away, giving her a forced but polite smile and a brief, parting wave but it's awkward and he's inwardly cringing as soon as he puts his hand down. Turning to where you had been sat in the chair, he notices you've disappeared and he is instantly overcome with a wave of guilt. You'd heard it all.
—
The next few days passed in blur for Fred, his mind wandering between what he was doing and thoughts of you, like he couldn't concentrate for more than a minute. He felt so conflicted within himself, made worse by the time spent apart from you, the longing beginning to set in. He'd never really been apart from you for very long, at most only a few weeks during the summer holidays and even then you'd have sent numerous letters by now, keeping in contact as much as you could until you were back beside each other. Now it was just torture, having you so close but so far away and the knowledge that he was the one that had pushed you away only furthered his guilt and internal conflict.
Fred was in a terrible mood, battling his thoughts, surviving on very little sleep and now the threat of her sadistic punishment was the icing on the cake of a really crap day when he and George had been forced to Umbridge's office. Harry had been caught trying to use the floo, to alert the order or escape and had been caught red handed by Umbridge. Each member of the DA had been frogmarched into the office, shoved and restrained by members of the inquisitorial squad and each member looked as uneasy as the next. His stomach turned when he saw Ginny held down by Goyle and he fought to get out of Graham Montegue's hold but it was useless when Umbridge mindlessly cast a spell to subdue him.
Harry was sat in the chair in the centre of the room, the first to be questioned with Umbridge hovering dangerously close to him, her temper boiling over as she speaks frantically in his face.
"You were going to Dumbledore weren't you?" She says, leaning down threateningly in front of Harry.
"No," Harry responds.
"Liar!" She screams back and in a move that shocks each member of the DA, she pulls back her hand and slaps Harry hard around the face, the harsh sound echoing through the otherwise silent room.
She pauses for a moment, simply glaring at Harry until her face twists into a sick, twisted grin as she straightens up and composes herself, each movement carefully thought out as she turns her back to him.
"Very well, you give me no choice Potter," she says with an even cadence, her tone dangerously low. "As this is an issue of Ministry security, you leave me with... no alternative, unless Professor Snape arrives within moments."
Fred feels like he can hardly breathe, the tension and unease in the air so thick that the room feels like it's getting smaller by the second. The unpredictability of the woman before them was alarming, the dangerous undertone of her voice despite her light and breezy tone was almost scarier than his worst nightmare.
"The cruciatus curse ought to loosen your tongue," she says, adjusting her pink jacket.
"That's illegal," Hermione states in outrage but Umbridge hardly flinches. Instead, she reaches out for the photo frame of the minister on her desk and pauses briefly to look at it before turning it over and lying it down flat on the desk, so that Fudge could not see her next move. She straightens herself and extends her wand, only to stop when Snape appears by the door, his eyes fixed to her outstretched wand that was pointed directly at Harry.
"You sent for me Headmistress?"
"Snape, yes," she says, taking a step back and everyone in the room exhales, relaxing only slightly. "The time has come for answers, wether he wants to give them to me or not," she says, her eyes flicking to Harry only briefly.
"Might I suggest against the cruciatus curse this time headmistress," he says evenly and carefully, "the consequences of such an audience might be... disagreeable. In fact I would hesitate in conducting any of the prior disciplinary methods in this instance.""
This time? She'd used the cruciatus curse before? And on a student? Prior disciplinary methods? Fred thinks, did he mean the quill?
"Very well," she says after a moment of pondering, her arm falling to her side as she relents, eyes wandering over the all too familiar Quill that sits proudly on her desk before her gaze shifts back to Snape. "Have you brought the veritaserum?"
"I'm afraid you've used up all my stores, the last of it interrogating Miss y/l/n."
Snape carries on speaking but Fred doesn't hear a single word, blood rushing to his ears as his heart pounds. He feels like he's received a stray bludger straight to the chest, his stomach dropping with fresh shame, sadness and overwhelming guilt.
Suddenly it all made sense. She'd tortured you into giving out the information- the cruciatus curse, veritaserum, what else had she done to you?
He couldn't help but let out a dry sob at the information, sensing everyone's eyes on him at the news. He struggled against the holds with everything in him, needing to fix what he'd broken.
He'd believed them, so quickly, believed that you could have betrayed them like that. The pain you must have felt, the loneliness and the guilt and then after your whole ordeal he had cast you aside, pushed you away and never given you a single chance to explain.
He eventually turned to look at George who looked utterly broken by the news, his regretful inner thoughts so evident upon his face. Each member of the DA looked a mixture of guilty, sheepish and sad, realising how wrong they'd been about you and what they'd done to someone who had once been their friend, someone who had suffered so much for all of them.
The meeting seemed to go abhorrently slowly until Umbridge left with Harry and Hermione on a sort of mission based upon a quickly constructed lie and Fred didn't waste a single moment before turning around on the spot and punching Graham Montegue straight in the face as soon as Umbridge had left. Seizing the momentary upper hand, the remaining members of the DA turned on the inquisitorial squad and fired an array of jinxes and spells at them in order to get away.
"Fred, Go!" George had urged whilst stunning Crabbe, allowing Ginny to step free. Malfoy fought back but he was quickly matched by Angelina who covered for Fred, blocking the exit.
"Go, she needs you!" Angelina shouted as she sent a jinx flying towards Cassius Warrington's smug face.
Fred didn't hang about and immediately ran out of the office and towards the common room where he was praying you'd be. It was quiet on the main staircases, perhaps it seemed much quieter because of the lack of portraits and bare walls but even to the few people Fred passed, he offered no explanation nor cared about what they thought. He needed to find you.
"Y/n!" He said bursting through the portrait hole and scanning the common room for you, checking the chair you'd so often occupied but found nothing except a couple of bewildered faces at his strange outburst.
"Y/n?" He called again, walking up the stairs towards the dormitories but received no reply. In his haste, he accidentally misstepped as he climbed up to the girls dorm and nearly triggered the blocking slide to appease but fortunately managed to regain his balance and stress carefully over the path he'd taken so many times before, the secret message in the steps that allowed him to breach the rules.
He threw open your dormitory door and stopped blankly when he found nothing. Your bed looked like it hadn't been slept in, there was hardly any of your things around the bed and the room. Had he come to the wrong room?
"Fred?" Your voice said shyly from behind him and he whipped around to see you looking up at him hesitantly from near the door, holding a few things in your arms and your robe tied tightly around your chest.
"Y/n," he says with a sigh of relief, moving forwards quickly to reach out to you but once again stopping short as he noticed you visibly flinch at his sudden movement. Suddenly the overwhelming agony of guilt and regret hit him anew and he vowed to slow down, hoping not to scare you away.
"I'm so sorry," he said, voice breaking slightly as he looked at your tired, sullen face and those wide, scared eyes. He'd never seen you look so broken and it killed him.
"I didn't, I don't ," he stutters, dropping to sit on the side of your bed. "You haven't been sleeping here have you?"
There's a minor pause and he wonders if you're actually going to reply to him, if he even deserves it, until you step forward and place your things down onto the bedside table. He watches in silence, noting the large book and a few packaged bandages that slip onto the table as you gingerly take a seat beside him, your feet no longer touching the floor.
"Kind of hard to when you're banished by the rest of your dorm," you reply quietly. He can't detect the tone of your voice, expecting it to be sarcastic or unhappy but it actually sounds flat and completely void of emotion.
"The chair," he realises, "you've been sleeping in that chair?" He's slightly bewildered and profoundly ashamed now, not having clicked until now that you'd been there early in a morning and late in the night, much later than you'd ever typically stayed up before. You shrug and turn your attention away, though you're yet to actually meet his eyes.
He drags a deep breath in through his teeth, resisting the urge to hang his head low on his shoulders.
"Y/n, I am so sorry, I, I don't even have words," he says, stumbling over his words- something so uncharacteristic for him that it briefly startles you. "You didn't deserve this, even if you had told Umbridge about us, no one deserves this. We were all so shocked that it could be you, of all people. We never stopped to think of why," he pauses again, steadying himself. "Snape admitted what she did to you, she tried to use it on Harry but he stopped him."
"But the quill was broken? How could she use it on Harry?" You say, finally looking up with a look of complete confusion.
"What quill?" Fred asks, completely lost himself, "the black quills? I meant the cruciatus curse, she, I mean she, on you, didn't she?"
Your silence says everything and he has to close his eyes and steady his breathing at your silent confirmation.
"What quill?" Fred feels a little bolder now and reaches for you but you pull your arm back and place it in your lap, trying not to wince as you catch the healing scars. "This one?"
He holds out his hand and shows you the faint markings from his punishment, 'I must not break rules' barely visible now. He frowns when you shake your head but don't offer any other explanation. He's frustrated that he's not getting anywhere but it's internal and he knows it's not your fault, he just wishes he could help, or go back in time and fix everything.
"Tell me, please," he says, keeping his eyes locked in the side of your face, trying to urge you to look at him. "What happened in that detention?"
"It doesn't matter," you say quickly, hopping down off the bed and stepping over to your trunk to get a fresh shirt from the laundry pile, knowing it would need changing. "I've got to shower."
You go to turn away but Fred lunges for you and grabs your arm to stop you from leaving, making you cry out in pain as soon as his fingers make contact with the tender skin. As soon as the shock wears off, he frowns, looking down at your arm before looking up to your face, seeing tears falling down your cheeks.
"Please baby, please just tell me," he says, voice breaking as his own tears well up in his eyes.
"She told you about the veritaserum?" You ask, assuming anyway and Fred nods. "Then you know what you need to know."
"No, I don't," he says quickly, trying to think of ways to stop you leaving without hurting you. "She used an unforgivable curse on you! Gave you truth serum, you cried when I touched your arm and you have bandages on your bedside table, please just tell me what happened!"
"Fine," you say, pulling your arm back. "You want to know? She tried to force it out of me, tried to get me to drink the stupid tea but I wouldn't. When that didn't work she pulled out that little stupid quill and wrote anything she wanted all over me. You wanted to know about the bandages? Fine," you said viciously, clawing at the fastening of your robe. Underneath was your once crisp, white shirt that had a considerable amount of red blood staining the sleeve. You didn't stop undressing, all but ripping the buttons away as you fought to show Fred what was underneath.
Bandages littered your forearms, with blood oozing out the sides. Fred's frozen as he looks at the bandages on your body, sick to his stomach already.
"Did you know Snape is a skilled occlumens? I didn't, I do now. So after she was playing with that sadistic little quill, writing whatever she wanted into my skin, he enters my mind and shows me every single fear I've ever had, every nightmare. But I didn't say a word, not a single fucking word. Do you know what it's like to have visions forced into your own mind of your boyfriend dying in front of you repeatedly, over and over until you start to go mad? All whilst your skin is slashed open just to get you to talk? Only it didn't work, so she dropped the quill and picked up her wand. I've never felt closer to death in my life but still so far away from it. But I wouldn't talk. So she forced veritaserum in my mouth and I couldn't stop it, she got what she wanted no matter what I'd fought for. And the best part? They don't heal, not truly. Nothing I do stops it, like a constant reminder of what happened."
"Princess," Fred chokes out, tears streaming down his cheeks, fighting to hold back his sobs at your words.
"No, not princess," you say sternly, emotions all falling from your face. "Not anymore."
"Please, I want to make this right, anything I can do, I want to support you," he says, nearly begging. "I have to make this right, I can't lose you."
"No."
Your voice is harsh and stern, your face expressionless again. "You believed them so easily, you all did. You believed I could do that to you, without hesitation. You didn't let me explain, never even looked at me because you were so certain that I could have done it. I've been exiled, banished and forgotten by all of you I called friends without a single thought. So you and your stupid brother and the rest of Dumbledore's friggin army can go fuck yourselves, it's not my fight anymore."
Fred flinches as the door slams shut behind you and he's left to sob openly, his devastation consuming him. Eventually when he returns to his own dorm, George says nothing upon seeing his twin's stricken face and his curtains fully closing around the bed.
The next morning, Fred has already left the dorm by the time George wakes up and doesn't see him at all around the common room or the hall, though he's not surprised. But when he doesn't show to his lessons, George worries and goes in search for his twin with increasing worry. Eventually, he finds him in the library, pouring over an array of books from the restricted section, most of them about healing spells and anatomy.
"Freddie?"
When Fred looks up with red rimmed eyes and an intense look in his eyes, it's clear to George that Fred hadn't slept. "Whatever it is, let me help."
One week. It took one week of endlessly pouring over book after book until they finally found options.
It's early morning on a Saturday when Fred creeps down to the common room was before the sun has risen, seeing you hunched over in your chair. Angelina had told him that they'd apologised profusely to you and had accepted you back with open arms back to the dormitory but you'd simply walked away and carried on sleeping by the fire, not yet willing to forgive them for the treatment you'd endured.
"Y/n, y/n, wake up," he says quietly, carefully touching your shoulder, trying to avoid anywhere that he had seen bandaged.
"Freddie?" You ask sleepily and his heart soars with hope at the noise, the familiarity of it abs the softness of your voice so heartwarming.
"I have something to show you, me and George," he says lightly, waiting for you to wake up.
"Told you both to get fucked," you mumble, squashing any hope he had, but he perseveres.
"Just this once prince-y/n, please," he says quietly. You open your eyes, seeing him still dressed in his pyjamas, pleading with his eyes and looking so vulnerable that you relent and agree to whatever he had planned. Throwing back the blanket, you surprise a groan at the stiffness in your neck and diligently follow him back up the stairs towards his dorm, accepting his hand as he guides you. Your hand fits perfectly into his, just as it always had.
"Where's Lee?" You say as you walk into the dorm room, seeing only George who gives you a small but timid smile.
"Bunking with Ron," Fred says somewhat vaguely, gesturing for you to sit on his bed. The room looks exactly as you remember albeit slightly less dishevelled than you'd experienced previously, but you don't mention anything. Fred takes a seat beside you and George moves forward, grabbing a book from the chair beside his bed.
"We don't know if this will work," George says.
"But it's better than nothing," Fred finishes, gingerly reaching out for your hand.
"What?"
"The wounds," George says gently, "Fred told me, we just want to make them better. Might not get rid of them completely but it's worth a shot."
"Found this in an old healing book, it's a counter curse for wound healing by curse," Fred says, taking the book from George to show you. "Figured Umbridge's quill must have been cursed so this might work. Please let us help."
All it takes is a nod from you, albeit slightly hesitant but truthfully there was no one you trusted more than the twins, before at least.
You could hardly look them in the eyes as you pulled away the bandages, the vile words etched into your skin by her personal sadistic quill. You heard George inhale at the deepest cut along your inner right forearm but didn't react, knowing it would be shocking to anyone.
"Take my hand, if it hurts too much all you have to do is squeeze and we'll stop, okay baby?"
Biting down on your lip to stifle your cries, you hold Fred's hand tightly as George begins to cast the counter-curse, each of you watching on with rapt attention and slight amazement as the cuts begin to slowly knit together. It was working.
You whimper as he works over the deepest, the same one Fred had accidentally caught the week before and Fred's hand squeezes yours automatically for support.
"You're doing so well sweetheart, it'll be over soon I promise," he says quietly in your ear, comforting you in anyway he could.
After the last cut is sealed, George immediately drops down to sit onto his bed, his concentration and energy depleted from focusing so hard. You can't believe it as you look down at your arms, no longer seeing blood and only able to see the faintest of marks and redness where the wounds had once been. Only then do tears begin to fall from your eyes as you launch yourself towards Fred, throwing your arms around him in appreciation. He steadies himself after a moment of being caught off guard and holds you tightly against him, shushing you gently as you cry. His arms wrap around you so perfectly, so protectively and his smell comforts you like to no other, exactly as you remember.
"You did so well, so well, it's okay baby," he coos into your ear. You pull apart slowly and immediately walk over to George, pulling him into a hug though it's a lot less intimate.
"Thank you both so much," you sniffle.
"You're welcome," they answer at the same time, making you smile.
"We've missed you," George says after a moment. "I'm so sorry for what you went through and for what I said. I should have known it wasn't your fault, you've been my best friend for so long and I'm so ashamed of myself for how easily I believed her over you, that should never have happened."
"And you know how sorry I am," Fred says, walking over to you and kneeling down until he's directly in front of you.
"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me and I was an idiot for ever thinking it was you. I know things can't ever go back to how they were before, but I love you so much that I can't lose you. Seeing you hurting almost broke me and I know that you might need time or never see me again but you need to know exactly how I still feel about you."
"It's not just you," you say in reply, heaving out a long breathe, "I pushed people away."
"We deserved it," George says.
"Baby," Fred says gently, getting your attention. "I don't know how to fix this or how to make things better, but I'll do anything. I was an idiot, a complete git but I'll spent the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. Please say this isn't ruined."
For the first time since the incident, you allow yourself to feel hopeful that things could get better, that Fred could love you again. Sat surrounded by the two people you loved most in the world, you finally felt the love and protection you'd been needing since that awful night.
"I want that," you say quietly, picking at the blanket under your fingers, "I just want things to just go back to normal." You raise your eyes up to Fred's to see him smiling back at you, clearly pleased with your words.
"Well, let's start with this then," he says with a mischievous smirk, leaning towards you painfully slowly as if he's giving you plenty of time to say no or push him away. His soft lips press against yours gently and you can't help but feel a warmth spread all over your body, almost like you were defrosting and returning back to you're usual self. His hand reaches up to cup the side of your jaw and you're certain you can feel a fear hit your cheek, though it doesn't come from you.
The next morning, you walk hand in hand with Fred into the great hall for breakfast and sit right back at the centre of the table with your friends. You assume Fred or George had threatened them not to say anything as everyone around you acts normal, pretending the previous weeks didn't exist, though one by one they all apologised to you, most notably Ron and Harry. Ginny thought you were badass for everything you'd been through, not relenting even though you'd been tortured into eventually revealing the secret. Hermione had apologised so eloquently and thoroughly that you both ended up crying in the common room as she explained about the jinxed parchment and how she'd held out hope that it hadn't been you.
Each person made it up to you in anyway they could, admitting their mistakes and regrets and though you would probably never forget, you chose to forgive.
Taglist requests
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#emeritusemeritus#emeritusemerituswrites#harry potter#fred weasley#fred weasley x you#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley imagine#fred weasley masterlist#Fred Weasley angst#request#taglist
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Hello! Would you be able to do a hero x villain scene where the villain catches the hero doing something he's not supposed to and the villain uses that to blackmail the hero? I love your snippets, i could literally read them all day like a book lol
"Tsk. Tsk. What have we here?"
The hero froze. They ran through a million different versions of how screwed they were. Then, they swore quietly, and turned. "Is there any small chance that you're not going to make a big deal out of this?"
"You graffitiing the side of parliament? On-" The villain's gaze raked over the colours, the style, clearly matching it to the other acts of vandalism that had been making the news of late, "-multiple occasions." Their eyes it up. "Oh, they'll have your head, hero."
The hero's stomach sank. It wasn't even an exaggeration. "So no biggie. Right? You love a bit of chaos?"
The villain smiled. It was not a comforting smile.
The villain might appreciate chaos, but not so much as power.
The hero folded their arms across their hoodie, like that would somehow cover the bloody scrawl of 'inaction in the face of evil is evil, you bastards' behind them. It was complete with a rendition of the head minister's face with a moustache and devil horns and a list of the dead.
"Why are you even here?" they snapped.
"Consulting with him of the devil horns."
"Of course you bloody are."
The villain shrugged. "This administration is evil, as you say. It's very convenient. They're oh so eager to get me on board, yada yada."
"You in government?"
"Mm. It's horrifying, isn't it?"
Horrifying seemed like too mild a word. The villain was already powerful, with legal and official backing - however unjust - they would be unstoppable. Never mind that...
They were probably using the villain. Or, at least, trying to. The idiots didn't realise that the villain was a different sort of beast entirely; difficult to tame, malice not contained to cabinets and board rooms and cruel detachment. Or, maybe, they knew but were simply too greedy for what the villain could give them.
There was no way it would end well either way.
And now...
The villain's smile broadened, at the hero's expression.
"Relax, hero," the villain said. "I won't tell anyone."
"...you won't?"
"Not if you do a little something for me."
The hero stared at the villain, flat.
"Oh, come now," the villain purred. "I'm being nice."
"By blackmailing me?"
"By giving you a chance to avoid being executed on the front steps. By not instantly taking away the last hope that all these poor..." The villain swept forward, "downtrodden," they captured the hero's chin, "peasants have."
Their eyes met. The hero swallowed.
It didn't need saying that the villain could. Which meant that whatever they were after must be awful, for them to give up the chance of their ultimate victory, of the chance to get rid of the hero forever.
"What do you want me to do?"
"I have no doubt you're aware of the dance tomorrow."
"The one that costs an obscene amount of money that could be used on public infrastructure or the welfare of people who live here."
"That's the one," the villain cooed. "Come with me."
"Excuse me?"
"Come with me to the dance."
"As your accomplice to what?" The hero's eyes narrowed. "You're not going to kill them all, are you?"
"As my date."
The villain dropped their chin.
There was a long pause. The villain was implacable. The hero was having some sort of internal seizure. Emotional whiplash. Possibly an existential crisis.
"...you're blackmailing me to be your date."
"Astute observation."
"I notice you didn't say you weren't going to kill them all."
"I notice you didn't say no."
"Well," the hero huffed, face hot. "I don't have much of a choice, do I?"
"I was half-expecting an 'I'd rather die', I'll admit."
"I mean, it was a close shout. It is..." They looked the villain up and down, then quickly looked away from the disgustingly perfect body. "You."
The villain smiled again. Wild. Savage. No politician's curve of the lips.
The hero wet their dry lips, resisting the urge to clear their throat. "And if I do this...you won't tell anyone about..." They waved a hand at the wall. "I have your word?"
For what is was worth, and the hero had never expected it to be worth quite so much, the villain always kept their word. Unlike some people.
"You have my word."
The hero felt dizzy as the adrenaline in them bottomed out. Shaky. They realised abruptly how clammy their hands were around the cans.
It still seemed too easy. The villain could have finished them. It was a stupid, ridiculous thing to be murdered for...but exactly the kind of thing the current administration didn't tolerate. That along with free speech, empathy and the other hallmarks of a caring society.
The villain turned to look at the vandalism, attention roaming over the names, the words. It was impossible to tell what they were thinking.
"Go on then," the villain murmured. "Finish up."
"You're going to watch?"
The villain didn't deign that with a response. The hero tried - and failed - not to feel self conscious as they got back to work. They'd, for obvious reasons, never had an audience before.
After what it had cost, though, they couldn't leave the job half done.
They felt the villain's eyes on them the whole time, intent and electric. It made the hero feel like they were stripping.
By the time they were done, the hero's hand was shaking.
"Very good." They felt the villain's chest pressed against their back, their breath against the hero's ear. "Remember to wear something pretty for me."
Then, they were gone.
The hero had to get out of there.
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「 When Vox & Lucifer forgets your birthday 」
WARNINGS : VALENTINO in Vox's part), Angst to Comfort fix, You & Velvette are best friends (sorry to those who dislike her), GN!reader, Reader calls herself a burden :[ , use of y/n, mention of h/c,e/c,f/c (H/c ➭ hair colour E/c ➭ eye colour F/c ➭ favourite colour), swearing, nicknames , NOT PROOFREAD!!
[A/n : I didn't expect Vox's to be so long]
Green colour text is you speaking or thinking example "hi"
Vox :
You yawned before rubbing your eyes, slowly awaking from your slumber, you turned to the side hoping your lover, Vox was in bed with you to cuddle but you were met with your lover's side of the bed cold & nicely made. Of course Vox was probably already awake and at work, you were hoping he would make an exception today because it was your birthday! However, that didn't seem to be true. You didn't let that brings you down tho, maybe he was making you your favorite breakfast so you could have breakfast in bed? You brushed it off before deciding to go freshen up and take a relaxing hot bath to take your mind off Vox.
You made your way to the bathroom, turning on the water to the temperature of your liking before striping and getting into the bathtub
After you finish taking a shower
You wrapped your body in your (f/c) robe before making your way into your shared room to get changed into your favourite outfit, Ouji fashion (or any style to your liking) ! You walked out of your room, expecting to see Vox making you your favourite breakfast but to your disappointment, he wasn't.
That was when it hit you...he had forgotten that it was your birthday. You couldn't blame him though he is a busy man working everyday on his company, Voxtek. He worked everyday from 8-12 hours it probably just slipped from his mind but you couldn't help but feel disappointed.
You made yourself your favourite breakfast, eating it slowly while thinking about how Vox had forgotten your birthday. You lost your appetite from thinking about it so much, you had placed the remaining of your favorite breakfast in the fridge.
You dragged yourself to your bedroom before slamming the door behind you. You couldn't help but wallow in self pity, tears running down your face. You soon fell asleep from crying.
You jolted awake from Velvette barging into your room shouting "Wake up girl ! It's your birthday why are you staying in your room like a depressed chick? Also why are you crying?! You aren't supposed to be sad on such a big event !" Velvette was holding a (f/c) present in one of her arm. She sat you up before handing you the present.
"What got you crying on your big day (y/n)?" velvette asked. "I..V-Vox forgot about my birthday! I c-couldnt help but feel upset and disappointed and started crying" you stuttered, chocking on your tears.
"Oh that bitch! How could he forget such an big event to you? His such an idiot. Why don't you open your present from me and we could go shopping to cheer you up! Sound like fun?" Velvette asked. You nodded before opening your present, inside was your favourite style of clothing in your (f/c) with matching shoes, a handbag & accessories.
"Velvette I love you so much I swear to Lucifer himself,plantonically obviously but you get what I mean! Also that plan sounds like absolute fun let's go!"
On yours and Velvette way out, you two bumped into Valentino,he wished you a happy birthday before going to his studio. Even Valentino remember and you barely even talk to him (or like him for that matter) and Vox, your lover didn't even remember it was good to say that you were pissed.
After you and Velvette came back from shopping, hands full with tons of bags full of your favourite stuff
"Feeling better dear?" Velvette asked putting down the bags of your favourite stuff on the floor of your shared bedroom with Vox. "With you taking me out to buy my favourite things? Hell yea!"
It was good to say that after Velvette left, you placed the stuff you bought neatly in your shared cabinet before placing a letter on the door reading : fuck off Vox, sleep on the couch today. You had placed some pillows and blankets on the sofa outside for Vox. You snuggled into bed before dozing off.
After awhile, Vox came back from work. He thought it was odd that there was pillows and blankets on the sofa but thought nothing of it until he say the note on your shared bedroom door.
He threw a silent tantrum, stomping his feet around. Why did he had to sleep on the couch for ‘no apparent reason???' He didn't even know what he did to deserve his kisses and cuddle session with his beloved lover taken away especially after a long day at work! However, he didn't want to make you more pissed so he slept on the couch like how you wanted him too. He decided, his going to visit Velvette first thing tomorrow morning. He knew you and Velvette was best friends and you told her everything.
It was good to know that the first thing Vox did after waking up was grumpily storming to Velvette's studio demanding why you made him sleep on the couch.
Vox slammed open the door that lead to Velvette's studio,pretty sure if he or Valentino did that one more time the door would fly off their hinges."VEL! DO YOU KNOW WHY THE FUCK DID Y/N MAKE ME SLEEP ON THE COUCH. IF YOU DO TELL ME WHY! " Screamed Vox."WHAT IS WITH YOU AND VAL WITH SLAMMING DOORS. Also yes I do their my best friend why would they not tell me. You're fucking stupid Vox I swear to Lucifer. Did you forget it's y/n birthday yesterday?? They was wallowing in self pity and cried themselves to sleep before I made their day better"
That was when it hit him "IT W—ZZT–WAS Y/N'S BIRTHDAY YESTERDAY? FFFUU-HUHHHH-UCKKK" Vox slammed the door behind him ("STOP SLAMMING MY FUCKING DOOR" -Velvette) as he ran to your shared room, banging on the door apologizing to you and promising to make up for it.
"Leave me alone.." you mumbled "Y/n my doll, please open the door. I'll make it up to you I promise darling." Vox said. He had cancelled everything he had ongoing and in plan for that week. You thought about it before opening the door, seeing Vox. Vox immediately hugged you and kept apologizing profusely, you two spent the rest of the night shopping, having a fancy date at Hell's fanciest restaurant.
He spoiled you with cuddles, gifts and basically anything you wanted to make up for forgetting your birthday!
Lucifer :
Lucifer was a VERYY busy man, I mean he is the king of hell himself! Of course his day is filled with meetings and other stuff.
By the time you woke up Lucifer had long gone off to work,attending meetings,doing paperwork and alot of others but for the whole day he couldn't shake off the feeling that he is forgetting something very important. No matter how many times he checked his schedule,his calander he couldn't seem to remember what he had forgotten.
when you woke up you had realized the obvious absences of lucifer..you lay in bed,trying to cheer yourself up but failing miserably. You knew and understood he was a busy man with tons of errands he needed to run but you couldn't help but feel sad and abit enraged that he had forgotten such an big event like your birthday after he promised he would never forget it.
He had been running from place to place,having meetings all around pentagram city. He couldn't figure out what he had forgotten until he finally reached home at night and saw you,thats when he remember what he had forgotten.. it was your birthday who could he forget??
"ducky..im sosoosososoosososos sorry! It completly slipped my mind,you're way more important then those stupid errands and meeting. Ill make it up to you duckling!"
In the end it was a happy ending with you two cuddling in bed and having an amazing time the day after to 'repay' that he had forgotten your birthday
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin lucifer#lucifer morningstar#hazbin hotel velvette#vox fluff#vox x you#vox x reader#lucifer x reader#lucifer x you#lucifer fluff
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Can I get a obsessed Jennifer check smut? Possibly with a strap she uses the female reader maybe some tribbing?
I took this idea and just made it next level, I hope you still like what I did with it.
wc: 2.7k
Warnings: mentality that being popular is important, smut, naked photos, strap-on, toxic Jennifer (obvi)
It wasn't your fault that Jennifer was attracted to you. And if you were being completely honest, you had no idea that she was in the first place. You thought the gentle shoulder touches in the hallway and friendly fashion tips were just that. Friendly.
You thought you were finally getting the high school upgrade you deserved, and were close to becoming in the top most important girls in the school. It wasn't that you weren't, it was just for different reasons than you thought.
Jennifer, on the other hand, was desperately trying, day by day, to not scare you away by finding out that she was obsessed with you. That she had a mind as perverted as every single other teenage boy in the school. She imagined what your bare tits would look like, and if you'd let her take a photo of them if she asked nicely. She dreamt of having you sit nicely between her legs in bed while she played with your pretty pussy, and wondered if you'd try to keep your focus on the movie playing or if you'd completely forget about it and beg her to fuck you harder.
At night, she wrote in her diary while kicking her feet at the thought of being with you, and how amazing it'd be if you liked her back. And if you didn't, blackmail was always easy.
In her free period, she tried guessing the combination to your locker, and whenever she was over at yours and you were in a different room, she snooped around to see if you had a diary too.
Sometimes, if you were taking a shower, she even went to the lengths of going through your underwear drawer, and stared with an open jaw at how much bigger your bras were than hers. She started to play a little game by herself, see when you'd notice; she'd put a pair of her underwear in your drawer, and take one of yours. She liked to wear your stolen underwear when she touched herself to the thought of you, or take pretty photos of herself in them.
There was another, unhealthier side of this obsession with you though, she got jealous. Upon becoming closer friends with Jennifer, you dated a lot less guys, who she claimed all 'probably had a small dick' or were 'too ugly for you'.
She was also mean to some of your old girl friends, scoffing at them and telling you things like "I can't imagine you were friends with them." So ultimately, you were unmotivated to hang out with them at all anymore. Not that you were to complain about it, because that meant you became just as popular as Jennifer. Some mean cheerleaders never dared to look your way, and you always got your way with people now. Someone's in your seat? Give them a look and it's yours again. Don't have any lunch money? Someone will always volunteer to buy you some.
Since you were a cheerleader along with Jennifer, you always drove home with her after practice for your usual girl's night, though she always invited Needy to come over way later than when you got to her's. Jennifer claimed it was because the changing rooms were too dirty and you'd both just have to shower at her's.
Whenever you were in the shower, she went through your phone, saw who you were texting, and one night, she came up with a plan.
"Hey you." Said Jennifer, opening her arms wide for a hug. You jogged over to her, hugging her tightly. When you separated, Jennifer's hands still lingered on your waist, and she wrapped one arm around you to walk into the changing rooms together. You both changed into your cheer uniform, Jennifer staring at every exposed area of your skin possible. You were wearing a purple thong with a matching purple bra, her favourite colour. "You see, it matches with our uniform." You spoke, holding up your skirt.
Jennifer giggled, coming closer to you. How had she changed so quickly? She put her hands on your waist, pressing her front into your back, and taking the skirt from your hands. "Get dressed, I can't be late." You rolled your eyes at her jokingly. "Oh right, cheer captain are you? I just always forget." Jennifer raises her brows at you and you both start giggling. Once you're finally dressed, you open your mouth to make another joke, but a harsh slap on your ass has you closing your mouth. "Ouch!"
Jennifer winks at you, cocking her head towards the door, and you obediently follow her out onto the pitch, where conveniently enough, the football team starts warming up too. "We both have practice today?" You ask, eyes stuck on a certain uniformed boy. "Mhmm" Hums Jennifer, eyeing you.
Her plan was already starting to work.
"You were distracted at practice today." You look up at her from where you're sitting on her bed, fresh out of the shower, and you immediately blush. "Mhm what-" "Y/n don't try to be ditzy with me, I basically taught you that." You shut your mouth, trying to find an escape. "Look, this is your next lesson for girlhood. What I do sometimes, I take some nice photos of myself and give it to him with a little note." "But I already have nice photos." You complain, and it's only when you see the look on her face that your jaw drops. "Oh... Do you think - maybe you could help me with that?"
Jennifer grins, immediately making her way over to where you sat on her bed. She straddles your hips, her hands immediately coming up to the zipper of your Juicy jacket, which she pulls down half-way, so your breasts are almost fully exposed in your bra. She places her hands on your boobs, squeezing them together slightly, before climbing off you and grabbing her camera, not taking notice to the way your face flushes a dark red.
"So we take the photos, print them, choose one, write a note on the back, and give it to him." She climbs back on your laps and snaps her camera for the first time that night. "How many do we need to take?" You ask "Well we need to have a variety." Jen says, her hands unzipping your jacket all the way down, before tugging it down your arms.
You let her.
You look down at your tits, a hand going up to adjust them in your lacy bra, but Jennifer beats you to it, cupping one in her hand to make it look perkier in your bra before doing the same with your other one. Your nipples harden and you blush, but Jennifer seemingly pays no attention to it, instead brushing some hair over your shoulder before she snaps a few more photos. "Do you want to take your shorts off for me?" She says, looking at the photos on the camera.
You gulp, shimmying out of your matching pink shorts. Jennifer looks up at you, shaking her head. "Let's find a pair of underwear to match your bra." You follow her to her closet, where she kneels on the floor, looking over her shoulder as she rummages through the options. "What about those?" You ask, pointing at a pair of white lacy underwear that looks strangely like an old pair you can't seem to find. Jennifer freezes for a moment before taking them out, shaking her head to herself.
She turns to you, still kneeling, and taps your leg a couple of times. "Come on then, take it off." You freeze. "What, here?" Jennifer raises her eyebrows at you. "We're both girls y/n, I know what a pussy looks like." You blush, nodding and push your panties down your legs, waiting for Jennifer to give you the other pair. You look away, not thinking much of anything, unaware of the fact that Jennifer is staring at your cunt, wishing she could taste it in that moment.
When she realises she's staring, she pretends she's been trying to get your attention for a while. "Helloo? Y/n." When you look back at her, she is holding the panties in a way that you can just step into them. "Oops, sorry." She pulls them up your legs, snapping the elastic against your skin, before grabbing your hips and turning you around. "Okay, let's see." You feel yourself blush harder as Jennifer stares at your ass and pulls the panties higher so that it wedges itself between your cheeks.
"Perf." She says, dragging you back to her bed. "Right, so sit like this-" She kneels on the bed, her legs spread, and arms pushing her tits up. "Can you do that for me?" You nod, getting into that position, and in that moment you wonder where Needy is and if you really want to give a guy a half naked photo of you. Jennifer walks up to you, looking as though she wants to fix your hair, but she pinches your nipples, causing you bite back a moan, and you watch her as she waits for your nipples to harden even more.
You let her take the photos, for the fun of it. What best friends haven't taken naked photos of each other? You love photo shoots anyway so there was no harm. "Do you think we should have one from the back?" You ask "Guys like that." Jen grins, nodding at you, and you get on your forearms and knees, arching your back.
"Yes, just like that." Says Jennifer, a single hand caressing your backside. You feel the bed dip beside you, where she put the camera down, and you feel her second hand come up to squeeze your ass. "You know what I think?" Jen starts, and you hum in acknowledgement. "You might not like it, but I think it's worth a try." She continues.
"You know I'd do anything for you Jen." You only half joke.
When you hear her idea your jaw drops, and you need a moment to process it. Of course, you agree, stripping down until you're stood naked in your best friend's bedroom. You're thankful her curtains are closed and Needy didn't show up to girl's night. You look at Jennifer, tightening her strap-on on top of her panties, but you can't help but be disappointed she doesn't take her jacket off. You kneel on the floor as Jennifer walks towards you, and you pray that you don't start to drip on her carpet.
Jennifer stands right in front of you, her purple strap-on right in front of you. "I-won't this get in the way of the photo?" You ask, tugging on her jacket. "What are you trying to get me naked or something?" Jennifer jokes, she takes it off nonetheless, handing you the camera. You swear she can hear your heart beating louder. She's not wearing a bra underneath.
"Okay, let's do this baby." She encourages, taking the camera back from you. You flip your hair over your shoulder, leaning in closer to take the strap in your mouth, sucking like you normally would. Jennifer starts to thrust her hips along with your movement and you gag, tears starting to form. That's when the camera goes off. She takes a few photos, then throws the camera onto her bed, her hand gathering your hair into a ponytail, and she pulls you off the strap.
"Okay, now how about you get on the bed?" Jennifer says, testing these new waters with you. You start to get up, and she helps you up, before pushing you harshly so you land on you bed. She follows you as you crawl up her bed, watching your dripping cunt, and she grabs your hips before turning you around, so you lay flat on your back.
She throws a leg over one of your thighs and immediately slams her lips onto yours. You moan loudly, hands reaching up the grab anything, landing on her hips. She pulls away, kissing and biting your neck instead, enjoying the sound of your whimpers. She continues to kiss down your body, playing with your tits, pinching your nipples and pushing them together as she licks around them.
She takes one of your nipples in her mouth and she starts to suck, her hips beginning to grind against your thigh. Why didn't you do this sooner? Once Jennifer reaches your pussy, she pulls away, just staring at you all laid out for her. She spreads your folds with two fingers, watching as your juices drip onto her sheets. She runs a finger up from your hole to your clit and brings it up to her mouth, humming loudly.
You whine, bucking your hips up, and Jennifer's gaze goes back to your face. "What do we say when we want something?" She asks, a finger tracing shapes on your thigh. "Please! Please Jen." You beg. She grins, one handing coming down to slap your clit and you cry out, trying to close your legs, but Jennifer keeps them open around her.
She holds the strap-on, cruelly teasing your entrance with it, before she sinks it in your core. You moan loudly and Jennifer smirks, immediately setting an unforgiving pace. "Yes, let me hear you baby. Come on." You whine at her demand, trying to reach up to her, but give up. She grins from her place on the bed, moving her grip over from your hips so that she can put each of her hands next to your head, so she can now hover over you while slamming her hips into you. You can't control your moans, head digging into the pillow behind you, barely keeping your eyes open.
Jennifer's tits jiggle above you as she thrusts into you over and over again, and you grab one of them, pinching her nipple in return and she moans loudly. She comes down to kiss you, now leaning on her forearms, and slowing down so she can grind the strap into you instead, hitting a new spot from that angle. Her tongue forces itself into your mouth and one of her hands grabs your jaw so she can dominate every aspect of the kiss.
Jennifer grabs one of your thighs, pushing it as far to the side as she can so she can hit a new spot inside you, grinding her hips into yours quickly, so the base of the strap rubs against your clit. "Fuck! Jen! I need to-" You sob, trying to buck your hips into Jennifer against her hold, but it's impossible. She removes her hand from your thigh so she can play with your tits, and the second she pinches your nipple again, you're crying her name out as you orgasm, back arching against her.
She doesn't let you ride out your orgasm because she's pulling out and flipping you onto your stomach so she can pound into you from the back, watching as your ass jiggles from the force of each thrust. Jennifer moans, one hand smacking your backside again before both her hands plant themselves on the bed to help her quicken her speed. Your legs are trembling at the prologued orgasm - or a second one, it feels so good you can't tell which it is. "Please, I can't- I can't"
Jennifer slows down, admiring the red marks on your ass from where her hips were pounding against you until she comes to a stop. She sits back on her knees, lets you catch your breath, and stop crying. Both her hands come up to massage your ass, and she leans down to press a kiss to it.
When she finally pulls out, she moves the sit next to you, helping to flip you on your back, grinning at the way your legs still tremble. She helps you sit up, your back leaning against her front while she continues to play with your tits. "How was that babe?" She asks and you nod, beginning to giggle at the situation. Jennifer leans in to kiss you and you put a hand on her jaw, trying to deepen the kiss, but she pulls away.
"If you give anyone a single one of these photos, I will destroy you." She threatens in a loving tone, before kissing you again, this time letting you deepen the kiss for however long you wish.
The next time you come over to Jennifer's house, there's a new scrapbook next to her bed that reads "Y/N"
#jennifer check#jennifers body#needy pussy#needy wh0re#wlw smut#wlw#wlw ns/fw#biseuxal#wet and needy#needy lesnicki#megan fox#smut#kinktober#gxg smut#gxg scenarios#jennifers body fanart#succubi#rainydayathogwarts
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