#I swear I wasn’t ignoring this nonnie I just didn’t see it :(( | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chvoswxtch · 1 year

Note

Could you do something with Frank where his s/o is just trying to comfort/take care of Frank after a mission and he just snaps at them? His s/o was having a really rough week and wanted to make themselves feel better by taking care of Frank. S/o leaves and turns off their phone to be away from him for a bit and he panics after he realizes what he did? Ending in fluff of course be my heart can’t handle sad endings 😂

Ps. Absolutely love your writing

thank you so much for the request nonnie! you know I love some good angst. but, as requested, I did give this a nice ending for you. a bit of a...flirty ending if you will. 😏

warning: swearing, lots of angst, slight mentions of blood and violence, allusions to spiciness word count: 3.4k

[part two]

really bad week.

Frank let out a heavy exhale as he shut off the scalding hot water in the shower, watching through hooded lids as translucent streams of red disappeared down the drain. He was exhausted, completely overstimulated, and there wasn’t a muscle in his body that didn’t ache.

The job had been harder than he’d planned for. The information he was given was bad, and he didn’t realize it until it was too late. Frank knew how to think quickly on his feet, he’d been trained to do that, and he normally excelled at it, but it didn’t stop the rage he felt towards his ignorant informant. The anger was like poison in his bloodstream, spreading further throughout him with every injury and minor inconvenience, and it followed him home.

It wasn’t until he stepped into your shared bedroom with a towel draped low across his hips that he realized how quiet the house was. Frank stilled, ears perking up as he listened for a sign of your presence. You were there to greet him the second he got home, and you normally either joined him for a shower or waited with a first aid kid to tend to his wounds.

But Frank didn’t hear the patter of your feet on the hardwood floor coming to him.

“Baby?”

Silence.

Frank quickly dropped his towel and slipped on a pair of boxers, swiftly making his way down the hallway towards the living room. His dark eyes darted back and forth around the space before his feet carried him into the kitchen where you normally waited.

But you weren’t there.

Frank made his way back into the living room, instantly going rigid when he noticed your keys were still on the entry table. Pulling back the curtain, he swore under his breath seeing that your car was still in the driveway. Rushing towards the bedroom to grab the pistol he kept in his nightstand, he grabbed his phone and furiously dialed your number.

He held the phone between his shoulder and ear, checking the clip and cocking the hammer of the gun as he made his way around your home, checking every room carefully. The endless ringing coming through the line filled him with dread.

“C’mon baby, pick up. Pick up.”

The sound of your chipper voicemail had Frank swearing again, tossing his phone onto the bed as he dialed your number again and put it on speaker so he could get dressed.

“Pick up the goddamn phone, Y/N.”

Frank nearly kicked the door to the bathroom off the hinges when he got your voicemail again. Where the fuck did you go? Why did you take off without saying anything? You never did that. You always told Frank when you were leaving, even if you were just stepping outside to check the mail. You knew how important it was for him to know where you were at all times.

Had he missed something when he came home? Did you say something to him about leaving? But where would you go without your car? Why would you-

Frank abruptly paused his incandescent pacing as realization spread like ice through his bones, completely freezing him in place.

“Fuck.”

You had opened the door to greet Frank before he even made it to the front steps, your soft hands delicately searching Frank’s face and torso for injuries, gently trying to coax him out of his clothes, offering nothing but pure kindness and compassion to help in any way you could.

You just wanted to help. You always just wanted to help. As guilty as it made him feel to come home to you bloody and broken, you always swore that you didn’t mind putting him back together. You promised that you loved taking care of him. You assured him that it wasn’t a hindrance, but that it gave you peace of mind, because you knew no one would take care of him like you would, especially not himself. You even confessed to him that it made you feel better to do it.

“You always take such good care of me, Frankie. You’re always protecting me. I can’t protect you back, but I can take care of you. Being your healer gives me a sense of purpose. It makes all the noise fade away. It makes me happy, baby.”

You just wanted to help him, and he’d been a fucking dick.

He snapped at you.

He yelled at you.

And when he closed his eyes, he saw the fear in yours, and it made him shudder.

Frank helplessly dialed your number again, rushing to the living room to grab the keys to his truck, tucking the gun into the waistband of his jeans as he went into full blown panic mode.

“Fuck, sweetheart. C’mon, pick up the phone. Pick up the phone for me honey, please.”

Frank never meant to raise his voice at you. He didn’t mean to let his anger get the best of him in front of you. You didn’t deserve the way he had treated you. All you were trying to do was help, but he wasn’t thinking straight. He was completely depleted physically, impossibly frustrated, and his entire body throbbed with pain.

But that wasn’t an excuse for him to snap at you like he had.

“Would you fuckin’ quit? Goddamn, I been home two seconds and you’re already up my ass. Just fuckin’ back off. I don’t need you followin’ me around, bein’ all fuckin’ needy and shit. I can take care of myself, I don’t need you. Stop bein’ a pain in my goddamn ass and just let me fuckin’ be.”

Frank slammed the door to his truck shut as he forced his key into the ignition, clenching his jaw tightly and flaring his nostrils angrily as he glanced at himself in the rear view mirror.

“You’re one sorry son of a fuckin’ bitch, you know that? Fuckin’ asshole.”

Frank recklessly backed out of the driveway and peeled off down the road, nearly breaking his phone screen as he harshly pressed his thumb against your contact again. But this time when he dialed, it went straight to voicemail.

“Fuck!”

Frank sent his phone flying into the dashboard as he gripped his steering wheel with one hand, dragging his other palm down his face and quickly running it through his still damp hair as he tried to focus. You didn’t take your car, so you had to be on foot, which meant you couldn’t have gone far. But where would you go?

He drove around your neighborhood for nearly an hour, eyes frantically darting around the road and both sides of the street with the windows down. Every second that passed that he couldn’t find you filled him with more and more trepidation to the point where he felt nauseous. His hands shook despite the tight grip on his steering wheel, but he couldn’t tell if it was from anger or from fear.

What if he had fucked up too bad? What if he couldn’t fix this? What if he came home and you were gone for good?

Frank swallowed the lump forming in his throat as the image of your terrified face flashed in his brain again. He never wanted you to look at him like that. He never wanted you to be afraid of him. He felt absolutely sick with guilt that he had scared you so badly that you had run. When Frank drove by the park at the end of the street for the twenty-seventh time, he quickly hit the brakes and put his truck in park. You had brought him to this park a few times before to have a picnic. You liked to watch the kids play, and see all the pretty flowers when they started to bloom. Frank quietly shut his truck door and pocketed his keys as he walked over towards the playground, and he immediately stilled once he saw a shadow on a swing illuminated by the moonlight.

You.

Your back was to him as you sat on the swing, leaning your head against the set of chains that your hands were loosely wrapped around. Frank normally would’ve smiled at the fact that your feet didn’t even reach the ground, but right now it just broke his heart, because it reminded him of how small and delicate you were. He approached you cautiously, and the closer he got, the more he was able to see the gentle shake of your shoulders and hear your quiet sniffles, and his heart shattered all over again.

“Baby?”

Your spine instantly stiffened as his voice cut through the silence of the night. You never reacted to him that way. Even when he surprised you by entering a room without a word when you were too distracted to hear the heavy thud of his boots, you never jumped or got startled, because you knew it was just him. You were never afraid of his presence.

Until now.

When you didn’t respond, Frank slowly made his way around to the front of the swings, keeping a good distance between you and himself so that he didn’t frighten you anymore than he had. He couldn’t see your face from where he stood above you. Your head was tilted downwards, and your hair covered your face like a curtain. He was momentarily grateful that he couldn’t see the look on your face. He wasn’t sure if he could handle it.

“Sweetheart?”

Silence.

Frank’s fingers twitched at his sides. He didn’t know what to do. He knew what he wanted to do; rush forward and pick you up into his arms, hug your head against his chest, kiss your forehead and run his fingers through your hair as he apologized over and over. He just wanted to fix it and make it better. But he wasn’t sure if you even wanted him to touch you right now, and that hurt worse than a bullet to the skull.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Frank took a few more cautious steps forward and knelt down in front of you, still trying to keep enough space between you both to make you more comfortable.

“Honey…I’m…I’m sorry. I’m real fuckin’ sorry. I didn’t mean to-I shoulda never raised my voice at you like that. I didn’t mean to, baby. I swear.”

Nothing.

Frank closed his eyes for a moment as he fought back tears that threatened to build along his waterline. He clenched his fists tightly, trying to keep his voice calm and even as he pleaded with you.

“Y/N…please talk to me. Please, baby. Just…say somethin’. Yell at me, hit me, hell take this fuckin’ gun and empty the clip right in my fuckin’ chest. Just…somethin’.”

“I’m not gonna do that, Frank.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper as it hit his ears, and Frank hated how small and broken it sounded. He watched as you lifted your head slightly, tucking your hair behind your ears as you sniffled, still refusing to look at him.

Frank thought he’d had his heart broken before, but that was nothing compared to seeing the pain on your face beneath the glow of the moon. He nearly broke down in tears seeing your puffy eyes and reddened nose, and the lingering hurt that was carved into every feature on your face.

“Baby-”

“I’m sorry I upset you.”

“What? What are you talkin’ about?”

Frank’s dark brows knit together in utter confusion at your apology, cocking his head to the side in complete disbelief.

“I just wanted to help. But…you’re right. I need…I need to back off. I…it’s too much. I’m too much-”

“Hey, stop it. That is not true-”

“Yes it is, Frank. You said it yourself.”

Even though your voice was more firm with anger behind it, there was no denying the ache that dripped from your words. Frank closed his eyes for a moment as he let out a heavy exhale through his nose, quickly shaking his head in rejection.

“I didn’t mean that. I didn’t mean a goddamn word I said earlier. Alright?”

“Frank-”

Frank moved closer on his knees toward you, shaking his head quickly as he stared into your teary eyes.

“I didn’t. I swear…on Maria and the kids. I was…I was in a bad mood when I came home. I was frustrated, and I was hurtin’, and I took all that out on you, and that wasn’t fair. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. You didn’t do nothin’ wrong, you understand me? Nothin’. I was not upset with you. I do not think any of that. I…I lost my temper, baby. I’m sorry. I’ll never be able to apologize hard enough, and I’ll never forgive myself for scarin’ you like that.”

Frank wanted nothing more than to reach for you when your bottom lip started to tremble. He watched as you lowered your head, toying nervously with the bracelet around your wrist as you refused to look at him.

“You were so mad…”

The fear in your fragile voice would’ve brought Frank to his knees if he wasn’t already on them. He closed his eyes as a remorseful tear slipped down his cheek, swallowing thickly as he tightened his jaw and inhaled sharply.

“I…I didn’t mean to scare you, sweetheart. I would never hurt you. Please…please tell me you know that.”

“Hurt me? I didn’t think you were going to hurt me, Frank.”

“I scared you-”

“I wasn’t scared of you, Frank. I was scared that you were mad at me. I thought I upset you…and that you didn’t want me there.”

Frank’s eyes flew open as he stared at you incredulously, lips parting as he began to shake his head quickly.

“Didn’t want you there? Baby, why would you say that?”

“Because you said you didn’t need me.”

As fresh tears slipped down your cheeks, Frank moved even closer on his knees until yours were pressed against his chest, fighting to keep his hands by his sides as he shook his head furiously.

“I didn’t mean that. I do need you, honey. I love you. You are the one goddamn good thing I got, and I don’t ever wanna lose you.”

“Promise?”

Frank hated that he had to make that promise to you. He hated that he had fucked up so royally, that you were even questioning it. But he would make that same promise until his lungs gave out if that’s what you needed from him.

“I promise, baby. Please forgive me, honey. That’ll never happen again, I swear.”

“I forgive you, Frankie.”

“Can I touch you, is that alright? Let me hold you, sweetheart. Please.”

Frank sighed in relief when you leaned forward to wrap your arms around him, instantly wrapping you up in his own arms as he held you protectively against his chest. A soft giggle slipped past your lips as you wiggled in his grasp.

“Easy, big guy. You’re crushing me.”

“Shit, sorry baby. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. How did you know I was here?”

Frank cupped your jaw in his large hand as he searched your face, giving a slight shake of his head.

“I didn’t. Been drivin’ ‘round for hours tryin’ to find you, sweetheart. You weren’t answerin’ your phone, and then it started goin’ straight to voicemail. I thought…I was assumin’ the worst.”

A sheepish expression coveted your features as you nibbled on your bottom lip nervously.

“I…turned it off. I’m sorry, Frank-”

“Don’t be. You just…scared the shit out of me, baby. I thought…thought somethin’ happened-you can’t do that to me, Y/N. You can’t just leave like that. You need space, I’ll give it to ya, but you gotta let me know that. I gotta know where you are, sweetheart. I gotta know you’re safe. I…I swear I’ll never snap at you like that again, but you gotta swear to me you’re not gonna run off on me like that again. Please.”

“I’m sorry…I wasn’t thinking. I was just…upset and-”

“I know, baby. I know. S’alright. I got you now, yeah?”

Leaning your face into Frank’s palm, you wrapped your hand around his wrist as you stared into his eyes and nodded your head slowly. A sad smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as you swallowed thickly.

“I didn’t mean to run. It’s just…I had a really bad week, and I missed you so much. And you always…just being near you makes me feel better. I thought you were upset with me…and didn’t want me there…and I just…that made me feel even worse-”

A furrow formed between Frank’s brows as he looked at you, lips parting slightly as he wiped your cheeks with his thumbs.

“What happened that made it bad?”

“Just…stuff with work.”

“Why didn’t you call me, baby?”

“Because I hate bothering you with my problems when you’re away. It was stupid anyway-”

“Hey, it ain’t stupid if it hurts your feelin’s. And you never bother me, sweetheart. You can call me anytime, no matter what time it is, or what it is. I wanna be there for you as much as you are for me. I can’t stand the thought of you bein’ upset and feelin’ like you can’t come to me. You need me, you call me. You got that?”

Instead of answering, you pushed yourself off the swing so that you could climb onto Frank’s lap, burying your face in his chest as he tightened his arms around your body. He pressed a soft kiss to your head, gently rocking you from side to side on his lap when you clung to him even tighter.

“I love you, sweetheart. You know that, yeah?”

“I love you, Frankie. I’m sorry-”

“You got nothin’ to be sorry for. I’m the one that’s sorry. Will you let me take you home, baby? Been a week without you, just wanna lay down and hold you. Can I do that?”

Frank slowly rose up off his knees when he heard your muffled yes, keeping both arms wrapped around your waist securely as you locked your legs around his back. As he reached his truck door, you pulled back to stare into his eyes curiously with a tilt of your head.

“Why is there a gun in your jeans?”

“I’m just happy to see ya.”

A light smile appeared on your lips as you rolled your eyes with a shake of your head.

“I’m talking about the actual gun.”

“Ouch. Ya’know how to kick a guy when’s down, huh?”

“Frank-”

He cut you off with a gentle kiss as he pushed your back against his driver’s side door, trapping you there between it and his body. Brushing his nose against yours softly when he pulled back, he brought one of his hands up to tuck your hair behind your ear as he gazed at you.

“Told ya, baby. Wasn’t sure what happened at first. Thought I might need it.”

“And what were you planning to do with it?”

“Didn’t get that far. Just knew I had to find you, and wasn’t gonna let anyone get in my way.”

“So, what…you were gonna threaten the whole neighborhood to find me?”

“I’d wage war for you, sweetheart.”

The strength in Frank’s gravely voice and the intensity in his eyes confirmed his words. You knew he wasn’t lying, and it suddenly occurred to you just how far Frank would go to protect you. Gently grabbing onto the back of Frank’s neck, your lips parted slightly as you stared into his dark brown eyes.

“You’re…probably really…tired-”

“Wide awake, darlin’. You tired?”

Frank held your gaze, and you could see a flame starting to dance in his eyes. You knew that look, and it spread heat throughout your lower half that was trapped by his hips. Giving a slight shake of your head, you lightly fisted the collar of his shirt in your free hand, unable to tear away from the hunger in his eyes.

“Can I take you home, sweetheart? Show you how much I need you?”

“You can take me right here, Frankie.”

A low groan reverbated in his chest and it made you shiver. He leaned in to delicately brush his lips against yours, grabbing onto your hips tightly.

“Hate to wake up the whole neighborhood at this hour.”

“You really care about that right now?”

A sharp gasp fell from your mouth as Frank pushed his hips further against yours, allowing you to feel just how badly he needed you.

“Said hate to, baby. Didn’t say I wasn’t gonna.”

tags: @day-dreaming-goddess @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042

#frank castle #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x reader #frank castle fic #frank castle request #the punisher #the punisher fic #the punisher request

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demonicbaby666 · 1 year

Note

Drabble idea - JJ talking care of reader while she is sick 🤒 just all the fluff and feelings 🥰

Sniffles

One shot | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: JJ x fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Words: 1.3k+

A/N: Thanks for the req nonny, hope I provided you with the fluff you wanted. It's written more comically and is a little too long to count as Drabble, but what can I say, I got a little carried away with the banter. Hope you enjoy! 💜

Hell. That was the only way to describe what your body was putting you through. Head pounding, nose stuffed with tissue and a throat that fell victim to a brutal attack of never-ending coughs, trying hopelessly to get whatever felt like it was stuck in there out.

You’d taken refuge on the sofa that morning, knowing if you went back to bed, there was a high possibility you may never make it out again. Though the idea of withering away and meeting your final demise sounded tempting, someone would probably miss you.

At what point you fell asleep to the tv playing reruns of god knows how many shows, you had no idea. All you knew was there was a muffled ringing coming not just from inside your ears, but from somewhere in the apartment. The door.

Heavily considering, far longer than appropriate, army crawling to the door, you settled on unceremoniously flinging your frail body upright, trying, albeit unsuccessfully, to ignore the black spots that painted your vision. As you trudged over to the door you made a silent promise to yourself, if the disturber of your peace fell short of a good enough reason for ringing your doorbell when you were on death's door, you’d subject them to the very same torment you were going through. One cough, maybe a little sneeze would do the trick, it was only fair.

“I swear, if you’ve lost your cat again Phil, I’ll-” you croaked out, latching onto the door handle - which would require sanitizing now, great - and pulled it open.

“No missing cats,” JJ chuckled, continuing in a hushed tone, “though I am curious, what exactly were you planning on doing?”

Nope. Not happening.

Mirrors, unfortunately, very much existed, which was why you sure as hell knew you were one sight to behold. A neighbour seeing you in a heavily stained dressing gown, hair thrown into a messy bun, and not the cute kind, that'd be fine, normal even. Well, you’d like to think normally you didn’t look like someone who’d contracted some type of bug, but JJ seeing you like this. Very much not the same. So, you did the only thing you could.

You shut the door in her face.

“You’ll get sick.” You shouted, your voice sounding far too similar to that of a dying pelican, or any dying creature for that matter.

“Number one. You’re letting me in because I’m your girlfriend and it’s my legal obligation to look after you. Number two. I know how to break down a door. Number three. If you don’t let me in, I will break down your door.”

“You gave me three points that were not relevant to what I said. You’ll. Get. Sick.”

“Sorry, let me try again. Number one, you have ten seconds to open the door before I kick it down. How was that babe?” For someone stuck on the other side of a door, waiting to take care of a walking germ factory, it was quite astonishing to hear how peppy JJ was.

Well; it was decided. It seemed there wasn’t ample room for negotiation, your front door’s life hanging in the balance and all. Knowing she wasn’t going to give up anytime soon, you hesitantly re-opened the door, peeking your head into the small open space. “If you could avoid looking at my face, that would be amazing.”

“Oh shush, I’ve been face to face with a rotting corpse, more than once.” She stepped forward, foot pressing the door more and more ajar until there was enough space for her to slip in, during which you slugged back to the sofa and threw a blanket over your head.

“I’m not sure that was as comforting or reassuring as you wanted it to be.” It was true, comparing one’s likeness to a dead body wasn’t exactly flattering, in fairness, it may have been accurate; nevertheless, it remained a deflating thought.

JJ took her shoes and coat off, knowing where to put them, then walked over to join you, “Show me that face of yours.” She teased, pulling at the blanket. There she sat, next to you - looking stunning as ever - trying to rip away the one shred of dignity you had left. In your books, it seemed a direct declaration of war.

“Would you stop that!” You pleaded. Too disoriented from the journey to the door and back, there was little fight left in you, making it too easy for the blonde to yank your fortress out of your weak grip, taking the single morsel of pride you had left with it to the floor.

“There she is!” She beamed.

“I don’t think I like you anymore.” It was the fact your sulking face reached only her chest, warming it with pure adoration, that JJ remained impartial to the comment. Finding it more amusing than hurtful.

“Well, that’s a shame, because I still like you and I’m not going anywhere. Guess you’ll just have to suffer in silence. Though, knowing you, you always have something to say.” She poked.

Disregarding the bantering jab, a traitorous smile crept onto your lips. The sight of your dishevelled face led you to believe JJ would run for the hills. She didn’t. In fact, she’d taken it upon herself, in her own way, to reassure you she felt the opposite. The declaration stunning you into silence, involuntarily gawking.

“Are you going to let me look after you now?” She asked, trying not to laugh at the expression written all over your face. “If I get sick, you’ll just have to repay the favour and look after me.”

“Then I’ll get sick again.”

“We’ll be in an endless loop of domestic bliss then, won’t we?”

“Sounds heavenly.” You sardonically quibbed, earning yourself a swift elbow to the ribs. For dramatic effect, you let out a loud groan, which by no means did JJ buy, “There’s got to be a rule against that.” rubbing your ‘injured’ side.

“I didn’t read the new edition of the ‘How to Look After Your Sick Girlfriend’ handbook, I go by the old rules.” She humoured, thinking it was quite a good comeback. Which it was, but she couldn’t know that. “It did mention something about snuggling up on the sofa though.”

Now that was a comeback that warranted appraisal. Unfortunately, in this case, appraisal came in the form of two flushed cheeks and a timid smile, both of which JJ, kindly, chose not to mention. Out-stretched arms guided you down, welcoming you into an embrace you swore had magical healing abilities.

There was a slim chance of smelling anything – what with having a blocked nasal cavity - yet the sweet aroma of JJ’s hair made it through, whether it was a phantom smell, you didn’t care. Not when slender fingers worked on unbinding your tousled hair, running gentle strokes through stubborn knots that unfurled under her touch, much like you did.

“You know you didn’t have to come?” The question came from a place of doubt, had the roles been reversed, you knew with certainty, you’d be doing the exact same. Regrettably, logic did nothing to cease your insecurities.

“In sickness and in health, right?” she softly said, smiling down with so much devolution in her eyes you found yourself battling tears.

“If you so much as think about proposing to me when I’m in this state, so help me JJ. I will sneeze so hard on you; you won’t see the light of day for weeks.”

Putting her hands up in mock surrender, “I’ll save the love declaration for another day as well then.”

But she didn’t. As she diligently re-convened her girlfriend duties, lulling you into a state of tranquillity Buddha would be envious of, rendering your headache near gone, three joyous words didn’t escape your grasps.

Your eyes fluttered shut; safe in JJ’s arms, a declaration of your own filled the comfortable silence. “I love you too.”

Tags: @criminallyobsessedcm @aws-l @babygirlscout | click here to be added to my taglist

#Jennifer Jareau x reader #Jennifer Jareau x you #Jennifer Jareau imagine #Criminal Minds #jj x reader #jennifer jareau #WLW #jennifer jj jareau #lgbt #cm #Jennifer jareau x y/n #Jennifer Jareau fluff #Jennifer Jareau comfort

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missblissy · 3 years

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Hi!! I want some pain so the Hurt/comfort post, about Alastor x reader with 1, 2, 4, 12??

((Of course Nonny!! Sorry for such a wait!! I've got a lot of these to work on lol. REMEMBER!! REQUEST ARE CLOSED RIGHT NOW, EVERYONE!! IF YOU SEND ONE IN I WILL NOT DO IT! I've had a few other people send some in and I'm sorry to say I have to delete them. I do not have any more room to take any more prompt requests. Thank you everyone for understanding! NOW.... Enjoy the Modern!AU Angst >:D))

1: “We need to stop the bleeding – now!” 2: “I hate to see you hurt like this.” 4: “I want to help you, so please let me.” 12: “You’re normally the tough guy. Today, let me be tough for the both of us.”

Something about today had felt off. Ever since you woke up, it just felt... not right. As if your mind already knew what was going to happen before it actually did. But no one can really know that for sure. That's why it's called a gut feeling. And that feeling told you that today... You might just die.

You've tasted blood before. But for some reason this time it tasted sweet, rather than bitter, and full of iron. There wasn't much for you to focus on other than the lights from the ceiling flickering over your head. You faintly heard a doctor screaming, "We need to stop the bleeding! BP is dropping- Let's go! Now!"

How did you end up here again, violently broken and bleeding out? Oh, that's right... You were driving home after work. It was another late shift during the dead hours of the night. Drunk drivers were often out during these hours of the night. One just so happened to hit you, and now you're here in a hospital.

You just wanted to go home and sleep. You wanted to lay beside your husband and not have to worry about anything. That was not your case, however. And instead, you tried your best to speak. A nurse who was pushing you along the gurney said, "It's alright, we'll help you, you're safe now." But all you wanted to do was ask about your husband. For someone to tell him what was going on. You were sure he was at home, sleeping soundly and without a clue what had happened.

And Alastor wouldn't find out until the next morning. He'd wake up to several missed calls from dozens of people and some he didn't even know. This man didn't even get dressed. He ran out of the house still in his pajamas and floored it to the hospital. Along the way there, Alastor would throw a massive fit. He'd smash his hands on the steering wheel, beating himself up over not getting there sooner.

He'd curse and swear and honestly drive like a maniac. Every red light he got caught at only made him angrier with the world. His tires would spin and shoot smoke the second the light flickered green and off he rushed again.

Luckily, you were out of surgery long before Alastor got to the hospital. A nurse walked him to your room, and he found himself staring at a sight he'd never imagine. You were broken beyond belief. The nurse gave Alastor a sorry look, "Everything's stable, for now," The nurse said, "But...." She shook her head, "It was one of the worse car accidents we've ever seen. We did everything we could-"

"Coma..." Alastor said the single word, "Induced or?" The nurse shook her head.

"Brain damage, though there is still plenty of brain activity," That was good to hear. It meant you weren't brain dead... yet. The nurse gave him a sorry look, then with a nod of her head, she left him there. Alastor slowly walked into your room and closed the door behind him. He even turned all the blinds so no one could see in the little windows from the hallways. Everything felt wrong.

He stood at your bedside. Taking in everything. The tubes, the machines, the wires. Almost immediately he felt his eyes burn with the threat of tears. And when he placed a hand on your cheek he couldn't stop the waves of them rushing down his face.

The sheer pain of the situation made Alastor sob like a child for the first time in his adult life. He sat down beside you and grabbed your hand, "Dammit..." He squeezed tightly, "Dammit!" He let out a little shout and brought your hand to his cheek, "I hate this-" He let out a small cry, "I hate to see you like this, my poor dear-"

He couldn't stop the waves of tears sobbing from his eyes. He'd never let himself cry like this before, but he felt like if he didn't cry, he wouldn't have the chance to later. With anger, he ran a hand over his face, aggressively wiping his tears. He threw his glasses off his face and they clinked to the floor. Alastor's fingers ringed into his hair as he let out another sob and pushed his bangs out of his face. He had completely lost all of his composure. Every part of him was breaking down.

Alastor sat down in the chair by your bedside and buried his head in one of his hands. With his other hand, he still held firm to yours. His fingers dug into your skin as let out another sob, "Please-" He hiccuped, "Please...!" He looked up at your unconscious face with watery dark eyes, "Please be okay," He whispered the words out quickly as he brought your hand to his lips, "Please let me help you-" He spoke the words against your skin, "I want to help you- Please let me... Just!" He paused for another quick sob, "Please just give me a sign your still in there..."

He was never a man to pray to any kind of god. He didn't believe there was one, to begin with. But Alastor found himself praying, hoping that anything would happen. He couldn't lose you, and certainly not like this. You never sign any DNR papers or made it clear to your doctors that you didn't want to be resuscitated. But you did tell Alastor if there ever came a day that you needed machines to keep you alive, you had asked him to pull the plug.

With the weight of what was once just a silly conversation that had now come true, Alastor found himself drowning in misery. He rested his head on the back of your hand as sat in his chair. He looked at his glasses on the ground as tears splattered around them, "I don't want to kill you," He whispered with a cry, "I don't want to unplug you if there is a chance you'll come out of this."

The stone-cold silence lasted only a second between the beats of your heart monitor. A beep, then silence. Another beep, then silence again. Alastor found himself swelling with rage and anger, but mostly sadness. He shook his head slowly as he stared at the ground. This can't be happening... He thought This has to be a dream... This-

Something sounded off. The beeps were getting... faster? Alastor looked up and stared at the monitors. He didn't understand any of them, there were so many, but something was happening. He watched numbers flicker and change when suddenly he felt a tug at his hand.

You didn't make a sound or hardly move but you're squeezed his hand. Alastor had never been so hopeful for something so small. He shot out of his chair with enough force to tip it over behind him.

"Darling!?" Alastor firmly gripped your hand and leaned over you. He let his free hand brush your hair out of your face as he asked, "Darling, please, for the love of god- Can you hear me?"

He waited, and waited some more. Suddenly her felt your hand squeeze him again while he searched your face for any signs, "oh my god-" He whispered to himself as he watched your face twitch with pain before your eyes flickered open. With lightning speed Alastor ran to the door of your room and swung it open, "Someone get a nurse!" He shouted into the hallway, "Please!" He ignored most of the odd stares he was getting.

It wasn't a second later that a small team of nurses rushed in to check on you. You had certainly woken up and the tubes down your throat were not comfortable at all. The intubation tubes were removed, along with the feeding tubes, while others updated your stats. Alastor waited nervously in the corner of the room as he watched a team of people work over you. He felt so helpless that he couldn't watch for long. He'd leave the room and wait in the hallway, trying his best to ignore the painful coughs and groans as tubes were pulled out of your throat.

When the nurses left, Alastor quickly went back into the room and to your side. You had only just started breathing on your own again. It was much harder to breathe than ever before, but you still managed. You were still groggy, swore, and very much in pain. Despite this, you still let the smallest and weakest smile crawl along your lips, "Hey..." Was the first thing you said to your husband.

You watched as Alastor's eyes flickered all over your form. From the casts, the pins, the cuts, and bruises. He searched your face for serval minutes than began a weak laugh that sounded similar to a cry, "H-hey..." He said with a long sigh, he even tried to wear a smile that just didn't sit right on his face.

"Al..." You raised a weak and tired hand to his face. He immediately pressed his cheek into the palm of your hand and shook his head, "I'm sorry," You said. But you had nothing to be sorry for, you didn't cause this or intend for it to happen.

He couldn't say anything, Alastor was too caught up with his feelings. You watched him break down all over again as if he was still living with the fear that you might die, "Hey- hey," You raised your hand slightly and made him look at you, "I'm alright," It was hard to see him so broken down like this, "I'm okay, I'm here." You reassured him, "I'm not going anywhere."

Alastor shook his head quickly as if he didn't want to bother you with his feelings. He sucked in a quick gasp for air then sobbed out, "I'm not strong enough to deal with something like this- Ever-.... I can't lose you." He said quickly.

You couldn't really scoot over but thankfully the bed was rather large. You gave Alastor's arm a tug and he quickly climb in and curled up beside you. He was careful to stay clear of any broken bones as he made himself comfortable.

You stared at the ceiling while Alastor shut his eyes and buried himself into the crook of your neck, you used your free hand to comb his hair despite the pain it caused you to move, "That's alright," You finally told him, "No one is strong enough to deal with something like this. You're normally so tough and good at hiding your emotions. But you don't have to do that. I'm alive, I lived, I can be tough enough for the both of us, even if it's just for today."

Alastor curled himself as close as he could beside you. He wanted nothing more than to hide and forget about this day, he knew how impossible that was but he still wanted it. You could feel his tears running from his face and onto your skin. He couldn't stop crying when normally he never cried. He didn't even cry at his mother's funeral. Even though you were the one in the car accident, somehow you felt that Alastor was in the most pain.

"Please don't ever leave me," His voice was raspy and broken as he spoke against the skin of your neck.

With a sad and sorry look on your face, you did your best to pull him closer and wrap your arm around him. You pressed your forehead against his and you felt a set of tears drop from your eyes. You did your best to smile as you spoke, "I won't," You promised, "I'll never leave you, I'll always be here."

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #hotel #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor / reader #alastor / you #reader insert #x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #human!alastor #human!reader #modern!au #angst #angsty #not fluffy #not cute

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heytherejulietx · 3 years

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hey! i don’t know if i sent this before but could you write a richie x reader where reader protects the losers from bowers? and she gets injured but doesn’t show it until she passes out?

bowers - richie tozier

↳ i hope this turned out alright for you nonnie! 🤍

↳ content warnings - violence, bullying, injury mention, blood, swearing, sex jokes, aged up losers.

↳ 3.5k word count

↳ masterlists

@bucky-j-barnes @mikewheelerc join my tag list

y/n decided that she absolutely detested her english teacher.

it was one of the last days of school before summer, and yet she’d been kept back for an extra hour to tutor some asshole in her class who hadn’t even been bothered to read their set text for that month (to be fair, richie also hadn’t read the text, but she supposed he wasn’t as much of an asshole because she loved him. boyfriend perks or some shit. and she also wasn’t staying back to tutor him, too). so whilst the rest of the losers had been let out of school she had to wait until she could catch up with them after. so she hated her english teacher and by extension the idiot that she had to tutor.

she’d had one good tutoring experience, and that was because richie genuinely needed help writing a history paper. it was only good because they got ten minutes in before they forgot the essay completely and ended up making out in his bedroom for the rest of the “tutor session”. richie had said they spent their time well and he didn’t regret it when his paper was graded poorly, and y/n smacked the back of his head. it was his fault they ended up making out in the first place. obviously.

so when four o’clock rolled around y/n left the practically empty school with a scowl on her face. her bike - usually surrounded by the bikes of the rest of the losers - stood alone as she walked towards it and unlocked the bike chain before she got on and rode off away from the school. richie had said to find them by the clubhouse, but as much as she loved him, she took stan’s word that they’d probably be by the local park instead. stan usually had the best idea of what was going on.

after a little while of peddling through derry y/n found herself approaching the park with a sigh of relief. she was tired and honestly wouldn’t mind listening to richie and eddie bickering like an old married couple for the next however long. she’d have preferred it to tutoring the asshole. though as she came to the edge of the street she screeched her bike to a stop, spotting the losers on the other side of the street with bowers in front of them.

from where she was stood she couldn’t quite hear what was being said, but she could see richie stood right in front of bowers yelling something about “shouldn’t you be off blowing your cousin” and beverly stood beside him, hands on her hips as she glared bowers down. bill was stood behind richie, trying (and failing) to get him to back down, with eddie on his other side with an inhaler in hand. stan stood shuffling on his feet nervously beside mike, whilst ben was keeping an eye on beverly.

y/n got off of her bike and stood it up against the wall of some building beside her as she frowned at the scene. she hurriedly searched henry’s hands for any sign of his knife and was thoroughly surprised when she didn’t see it. until she noticed it peeking out from his back pocket.

memories of seeing ben’s scar on his stomach for the first time made her glower at the back of henry’s head, angry at the thought of him hurting any of the other losers again.

she spotted an empty glass bottle on the floor and without thinking lifted it up and hurled it through the air towards bowers. it shattered against his upper back and the shouting went silent as they all turned to face her, bowers with a murderous glare on his face.

“hey bowers!” she shouted, hands on her hips, matching bev’s stance. “what’s it gonna take for you to chop that mullet off, dude? shit’s fuckin’ ugly man!”

although y/n wasn’t completely alike her boyfriend (mostly in the sense that she could calm down if she wanted to, and richie was constantly at a state of maximum energy at any given point) they were alike in their mannerisms if y/n really got going. she maybe even had bigger balls than he did, as stan once pointed out. she didn’t shy away from conflict - she probably ended up making it worse sometimes, to be honest.

she didn’t look away from bowers but she could feel eight pairs of eyes on her. though the death glare that she was defiantly staring back at was definitely the strongest. she’d maybe even be a little bit scared if she wasn’t too pissed off to care.

as bowers started crossing the street towards her, shouting nasty and horrible things her way, y/n sent a look towards stan and bill and nodded in the opposite direction. they needed to get the losers away before it kicked off with bowers, because she knew that richie and bev would be eager to get themselves involved too. the whole point of distracting bowers was so they wouldn’t be.

stan and bill had hands on the other losers arms, and from where she was stood she heard something close to “she’ll lose him then meet us around the corner“. once she was sure that the boys had it covered she faced henry again, stepping back a little as he got closer though she didn’t lose her glare.

“what the fuck are you playing at?” bowers spat, stopping directly in front of her. she could see small shards of glass sticking in his hair and inwardly smirked to herself.

“the bully act is a little old, isn’t it? you’re pathetic.” she stood her ground with as much ferocity he had, momentarily forgetting about the knife he had, though it was quickly brought to her attention when it was taken out of his back pocket and the tip was pointed at her.

y/n stumbled back a little on instinct, though tried to keep her stance the same. bowers was slowly closing in on her - she only had so much pavement left behind her before a wall. though just as he raised it to send a slash her way, she spotted blue lights in the distance and smirked.

“i’d watch it, bowers,” she nodded in the direction of the sheriff’s cruiser, knowing fully well that his father was in the car. “wouldn’t want daddy catching you with a big-boy blade.”

the cop car drove right down their street and past them, and y/n thought that it would be okay to turn and walk away with a final gesture of her middle finger his way.

big mistake.

she got a few steps away as the cruiser went down the street, though she didn’t take into account that bowers might come at her again. just as she glanced down the street, wondering what side street the losers could have taken to get away, she felt a hand grab the strap of her backpack and yanked her backwards onto the floor, winding her with a wheeze as she landed on the pavement. as she tried to forcefully drag in a breath of air she could see bowers towered over her, blade still in hand, and panicked. he had a fucking knife and she was laying on her back, defenceless.

her hand reached out beside her to grab the first thing she could on the floor and when her fingers circled around one of the larger shards of glass from the bottle she threw mere minutes before she swiped at him with it, taking his moment of leaning back away from it to scramble up to her feet.

“the fuck is your problem, man?” she wheezed, still somewhat winded, now sounding like eddie. she could feel her heart beating out of her chest, almost painfully thumping against her ribcage.

instead of an answer bowers pushed her back again and she landed on the floor once more, the shard of glass falling from her hand. breathing through her teeth, knowing she didn’t have enough time to stand up again since bowers was so close, she rolled onto her stomach to reach and grab the shard of glass, planning to turn back towards bowers to defend herself.

y/n misjudged how long that would take, because before she could turn back around she felt a sudden pain to the back of her leg, along with the sound of her jeans tearing. fuck, did he cut her? if he did he probably didn’t do it very deep because it didn’t hurt terribly bad. y/n still yelped in surprise, though, and kicked him away before she got to her feet again, glass in hand again.

the knife he was holding was coated in blood and it made her feel sick to stare at him, a sadistic fucking smile on his face. y/n would honestly rather have tea with michael meyers over that.

thinking on her feet she threw the glass at him and managed to hit him in the face. bowers groaned in pain and immediately covered the spot with his hand, and y/n wasted no time in turning to run away from him.

through being winded twice the drags of air she took in were audible and wheezy, hurting her throat and chest with every intake of breath. she debated on tackling eddie for his inhaler when she saw him. her shoes slapped against the pavement loudly as she ran down the street and down the first alleyway she saw, hoping the losers were somewhere close. she could already feel herself tiering, and she didn’t want bowers catching up to her again when she had less energy. she’d be much worse off.

thankfully the losers were quite literally right in front her, as when she had turned to run down another side street she collided with richie and almost sent them both tumbling down, if not for mike and ben who managed to hold the both of them up.

“fucking hell-“ she was still wheezing, gripping onto richie’s ugly shirt in tight fists once she was back on her feet. “are you guys okay?”

“we should be asking you that, holy fuck,” richie’s eyes were wide as he held onto her arms to keep her steady. “you sound like eddie.” he added, ignoring the complaint behind his back at the comment.

with richie keeping his hands on her arms bev rubbed her back from where she was stood on her left side, eyes kept on her face. y/n had momentarily forgotten about the cut on her leg because the rush of adrenaline she was feeling kept her from noticing it, and she was wearing black jeans so the blood wouldn’t really show on the material.

“i’m okay,” she nodded, breathing slowly but surely becoming an easier task as she continued to hang off of richie’s shirt, which he seemed like he didn’t mind. “i’m fine.”

“badass taking on bowers like that,” eddie commented, earning a chuckle from the rest of the losers. “i don’t think anybody else would have actually done it.”

“hey!” richie complained, turning to face eddie though he kept a hand on y/n’s arm. “i totally could have done that.”

“no offence rich, but i do have bigger balls than you.” y/n poked him in the chest and earned a playful glare in return.

as richie and eddie started arguing like usual y/n blinked a few times. the adrenaline was wearing off, and the supposed scratch on the back of her leg grew more and more painful the longer she stood there. she grimaced, eyebrows furrowing slightly as she inhaled deeply through her nose. the back of her thigh felt oddly warm, like warm water was running down her leg, though she immediately dismissed the idea that it was blood. no, she’d know if it was that serious. she couldn’t have run all that way with a deep cut in her leg, could she?

“y/n?” she blinked a few times and looked up, meeting stan’s concerned gaze in front of her, soon followed by the rest of the losers taking suit. “are you okay?”

“yeah,” she exhaled deeply, attempting to step forwards, though the movement was so wobbly that immediately richie grabbed one of her forearms to keep her steady. “just peachy, stan-the-man. i think i just need to sit down…” she attempted to step forwards again, though this time the wobbling was more prominent, and she fell right towards stanley as her eyes rolled back.

“fuck!” richie had immediately reached forwards in the attempt to catch her before she fell on stanley, and with the help of stan and mike he managed to lower her to the floor.

“oh my god!” eddie was shrill with panic, taking in worried breaths already. “bowers killed y/n!”

“she’s not dead you fucking idiot!” stan yelled back, though his face was pale with worry too.

richie tried to block the bickering out when bev and mike joined too as he crouched beside her, hands a little shaky as he tried to check her over for any injuries, ben doing the same from where he stood. he couldn’t see anything, though a puddle of blood forming underneath her left thigh spoke for itself, and immediately he was panicking too.

“fuck! eddie her leg!” richie was shouting too, hoping eddie knew something about what the fuck was going on due to his extensive medical knowledge.

eddie crouched on the floor beside her leg, gritting his teeth to hold back the willing heave from the sight of blood as he tried to see what had happened. with the help of bev who lifted her leg up, eddie gasped and almost made richie go into cardiac arrest.

“what?! what is it?! is her leg falling off or something?!” now he was sounding like eddie.

“bowers cut her-“ eddie almost heaved again though swallowed it down to speak again. “it’s bad. she needs to get to the hospital she’s losing a fuck ton of blood.”

“fuck-“ richie felt nauseous with worry, and his hands shook as one moved to her cheek, shaking her slightly as if she would wake up. when she continued just to lay there he pulled off his shirt with trembling fingers and leaned over her body towards her leg. “she needs something tied to stop the blood flow, right?” he spoke quickly as he looked up at eddie, who had his hands clamped over his mouth as he tried to keep from throwing up. “RIGHT?” he yelled, impatient.

eddie nodded frantically as his hand dug into his fanny pack for his inhaler and richie wasted no time in wrapping his shirt around her leg, and tied a knot tightly above the cut, not bothered by the blood staining it. once it was tied beverly lowered her leg back down to the floor.

all of the losers had the same sort of expression on their faces; shock. whether it was shown through wheezing like eddie or standing as still as a statue like stan, they all had the same almost ghostly look to their expression.

“there’s a phone booth down the street, i’ll go call an ambulance.” bev announced before she took off running in the direction of the phone.

richie sat back on his heels, pretending his hands weren’t stained with his girlfriends blood as he took her hand and sat it in her lap. he could feel his heart thumping against his ribs and just prayed that the ambulance would get there soon.

y/n blinked almost furiously under the sudden harsh light, it hurt her head to look at it. the bed she was laying in was uncomfortable and the room smelt like disinfectant. eddie better not have cleaned my room again, she thought. the last time he had done it was because she had a stomach bug and “the germs could spread and get everyone sick!“, so she didn’t see why he had reason to do it now.

once her eyes had adjusted to the brightness of the room she glanced around and was suddenly taken aback by where she was; the hospital.

y/n immediately sat up, suddenly wide awake, though she flinched when she felt something grab her hand and turned to see what it was, thoughts of bowers and his blood-coated knife flashing in her mind. though she relaxed slightly when she saw richie sat there instead, his hand over hers.

“it’s not even summer yet and you’re already having adventures. look at you go.” his teasing voice filled the room, though she could see in his eyes that he wasn’t completely carefree like usual.

y/n smiled a little as she leaned back against the pillows of her bed and shrugged. “what can i say? i’m just way cooler than you.” she teased as she moved her fingers gently against his to link them together.

richie scoffed in mock offence though a moment later he’d leaned forwards, his other hand over their linked ones. “you feel okay?” his voice was soft and genuine, a tone she only ever heard from richie when they were alone.

she blinked a few times at the question, and suddenly the pain in her leg had registered and she winced. “my leg hurts.”

“i’d expect so after bowers fucking sliced you open,” richie grumbled. he looked angry and concerned and different. y/n rarely saw him so serious. “when i see him next i’m going to kill him.”

“no, rich,” y/n shook her head, frowning a little as she squeezed his hand a little firmer. “i’m okay. just leave it. it’ll get worse.”

richie sighed though nodded, his gaze focused on their interlocked hands. y/n waited another moment before she shuffled over on the bed (and grit her teeth to suppress the grunt of pain from moving her leg, which richie picked up on anyways) before she pat the bed beside her and tugged on richie’s arm. “in.”

“not the first time you’ve said that.” richie snorted as he stood up, and let go of her hand so he could climb onto the bed beside her. once he had settled comfortably against the pillows y/n tucked herself into his side, and closed her eyes once her head had dropped against his shoulder.

after a moment she could feel the tips of richie’s fingers dragging up and down her arm, tracing invisible patterns along her skin. his lips pressed to the crown of her head and in return she gently left a kiss to his collarbone with a quiet hum, though kept her eyes closed.

“you didn’t have to put yourself in harms away for us today,” richie mumbled. “i totally could have handled it.” he added jokingly, not able to stay serious for long.

“oh i’m sure,” y/n smirked slightly before she shook her head and sighed. “i saw the knife in his back pocket and thought of ben and what he did to him. i couldn’t imagine him doing that again to any of you. i’d do anything for you guys,” her voice was so soft it was almost a whisper, and when she looked up richie was already looking at her. “especially you.” she added, almost silent.

richie brought his tree hand up and brushed some hair out of his face as he looked at her, surprisingly not cracking a joke or even a smirk that time. instead his expression was soft; a rarity for sure. his gaze softened and he had a half-smile that made y/n almost swoon, despite being in a hospital bed.

“that means a lot,” richie told her genuinely. “i just don’t like seeing you get hurt, doll.”

“i know, but i’m okay.” she insisted, sitting up a little against his side as she looked at him.

“you’re almost okay,” he corrected, as his fingers tapped against the thigh of the leg that was hurt. “just don’t throw yourself in front of bowers for us again, okay?”

“‘kay. promise.” she smiled, and her eyes closed shut again when richie pressed a soft, loving kiss to her lips.

“as much as i’d love to enjoy this moment,” richie pulled away, his usual smirk back on his face. “eddie is probably outside going through his third inhaler, and stan’s hair probably dropped out from stress.”

y/n laughed and shook her head, though she knew richie really wasn’t far off.

almost as if the losers had heard them, the door opened so quickly and with so much force that it slammed against the wall beside it, revealing (surely) eddie hugging his inhaler and stan looking sick with stress, followed by the other losers.

“yo stan, you look like you just saw under eddie’s mom’s skirt.” richie called over, and immediately eddie was cursing at him as he stepped forwards.

y/n giggled to herself as she tucked against richie’a side, watching the usual bickering start up again. back to normal, she thought to herself.

#amber’s writing #richie tozier #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier fanfiction #richie tozier it #richie tozier x reader #richie tozier x you #the losers club #the losers club x reader #eddie kaspbrak #beverly marsh #stanley uris #bill denbrough #ben hanscom #mike hanlon #it chapter 1 #it chapter one #it imagine #it fanfiction

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lord-multifandom-murder · 3 years

Text

Ok! My first request! And I AM SO SORRY TO THE NONNIE WHO REQUESTED THIS BECAUSE I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED YOUR MESSAGE PLS DON'T KILL ME!

Anyways, the nonnie requested a George x reader with an argument and fluff at the end, so here we go!

Time to spend (George Weasley x reader)

A/N: Oh boy, I'm so sorry, this was the best I could come up with! I just can't find a reason to fight with this cinnamon roll of a boi.....but I hope you like this!

Summary: George hasn't been spending time with you, and you're getting frustrated

Warnings: Swearing, yelling, a lil angst, so much fluff at the end it could be a super floofy cat or smth, (not very proofread writing??)

Requests are OPEN!

You sighed tiredly, looking at your watch. This was the 7th time George came late for a date. And knowing him, he'd only come really late into the hour, which would end up with you only walking back with him to the castle.

You were tired of being treated like this. But, you decided to wait a while longer at the Three Broomsticks for him to show up. "Y/N!" called a voice. Aha. You turn around to see your boyfriend hurrying towards you.

"Darling, I'm so sorry that I'm late! I got caught up with Fred and I-"

"Lost track of time?" you finished, looking at him. "W-what?" he questions, noticing the look on your face.

"George," you sigh. "I'm tired of waiting for you to turn up for a date! This is the 7th time and I can't keep doing this!" you say loudly, drawing the attention of a few people in the pub, along with Madam Rosmerta.

"Y/N, I'm really sorry! I promise that I won't be late the next time!"

"George, you've said that many times. And what happened on the next date? We only walked back to the castle! We didn't even get to spend time together!" you snap. George opened his mouth to speak again, but you cut him off.

"You know what, George? I'm going to go back to Hogwarts. Alone. I can't keep being patient, you know. All I wanted was to spend time with you, and if you think that your pranks are more important than me, you should've thought twice before deciding to date me" you say quietly.

"Y/N, wait-," he said, but you walked out of the pub. He sighs, watching you storm off, and sat down in your chair. Madam Rosmerta walked over and sat in the chair opposite him with a sympathetic expression.

"Firewhisky?" she offers. George looked at her surprised for a minute, because she usually wouldn't offer it to Hogwarts students. But, he nodded all the same. "Sure. Go crazy," he mumbles.

You were walking down the street to the castle and made it past the school gates when you reminisced on what you had said. You sighed frustratedly, regretting your words. You scolded yourself, reminding that George just wanted to spend time with his twin, who had been with him longer than you'd ever be.

But then another voice popped up. Sure, he just wanted to spend time with Fred, but he had already promised you! And all the times you've been late for a date are much less than his, it reasoned.

You shake your head and huffed, speeding up your pace. You soon reach the Gryffindor Common Room and met the Fat Lady. You mumbled the password and climbed through the hole.

You're met with the Trio, who was already expecting the outcome of the date, and waited for you to return. Harry raises his eyebrows and observes you with his green eyes as you flop into a comfy armchair with an exaggerated groan. "George was late again?" asks Ron.

"Mhm," you mumble, rubbing your eyes and looking at your friends. Hermione looked at you sympathetically and said "George will come around, don't worry,"

You sigh. "I don't really think so. I yelled at him at the pub.....,"

Ron winced. "Ah, well then I guess you'll have to wait,"

"Ron!" snapped Hermione sharply. "What?" he asks obliviously. Hermione sighs and shakes her head. "Don't listen to him, Y/N. He'll come round soon," she reassures.

---------

The next morning, you walk down for breakfast and you see George sitting with his twin, looking tired. You avoid eye-contact with him and sit in between Ron and Hermione. You look sideways and see George looking at you, and you notice that his hair was messy and his eyes were half-open. You turn away and talk to Harry about the day's classes.

For the whole day, you and George didn't exchange a single word. When you walked into the Gryffindor Common Room, you're met with the redhead, who was sitting on the floor with his forehead on his knees in front of your dorm staircase.

You wanted to ignore him, but he looked a little off. He wasn't with Fred......you didn't even see him. You sighed and walked towards George and squatted in front of him. You tap his head with your finger. "George," you whisper. "Are you asleep?"

George lifted his head and looked at you, with tired eyes. You open his mouth to say something, but he attacked you in a hug. "I'm sorry," you hear him mumble. "It's fine, Georgie," you say, returning the hug. "I really shouldn't have been late!" he says. "Yes, you shouldn't have," you answer.

"You have every right to be mad at me!"

"Yes, I have," you say, amused.

"Are you going to keep agreeing with everything I say?!" he whines.

"Yep, I will," you answer, laughing when he let out another whine.

You stand up, leaving him on the floor. He pouts up at you and you roll your eyes. "What happened to you, really?" you question. "You're acting like you have a hangover!"

George looked sheepish for a minute. "That's because I do have one. I.....drank a bit of firewhisky when you left," he mumbles. "What?" you say, a smile playing on your face. "Madam Rosmerta offered me some. If I didn't know any better, she might've spiked it if I hadn't drank so much," he complains.

You laugh. "Alright, you big baby. Get up. D'you want to cuddle?" At that, George shot up, wincing slightly from his headache. Up in his dorm, he put on a pair of sweatpants and just tugging his shirt off, flopping on his bed, groaning at the pain.

You roll your eyes as you wear some shorts of yours that George (somehow) had, and a shirt of his, before settling under the covers and turning to your side to face him. "I'm sorry," you whisper. "Why?" he asks, turning over to look at you.

"I shouldn't have been so angry," you say. "You wanted to hang out with your brother, and I shouldn't get in the way. You just wanted to spend some time with him."

"What? No, Y/N, I should've paid more attention to the time! Fred kept reminding me not to be late, and would you look at that, I was late!"

You sigh. "Alright, alright, let's not start arguing about who was more wrong here, okay? We've made up," you reason.

"Right," George says. "Okay then, are you going to make my headache feel better?" he pouts, giving you adorable puppy-dog eyes. You roll your eyes but open your arms, and he happily wiggles into them, resting his head in the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms under your waist.

You kiss his forehead. "I love you," he mumbles quietly. "I love you too, you headache," you answer. You hear him give a huff, and you laugh quietly, knowing that everything was going to be fine now.

Well, hope you enjoyed it! (Feedback is always appreciated!)

#george weasley x reader #george weasley fluff #george weasley angst #george weasley x reader fluff #request reads #george weasley x reader angst #hp fanfics #harry potter fanfiction

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amphxtrite · 3 years

Text

cedric diggory x slytherin fem!reader

warnings: smut, swearing, oral (female receiving), hand job, fingering, riding, kind of dom x dom, spelling/ grammar mistakes.

do not read if you are not comfortable.

summary: Badgers and snakes are born into their rivalry, even in the wild they are practically bred to fight and show their dominance. Cedric and the reader have hated each other from the moment they met. It’s not until Cedric puts his name into the goblet of fire and nearly gets killed that feelings become clear. fluff at the end.

a/n: thank you to @cedricsyellowscarf and nonnie for requesting!

word count: 4.6k

enjoy <3

__________________________________________

When you think of slytherins, what’s the first thing you think of?

Cunning, resourceful, and badass?

Y/n L/n was all the above when you thought of a stereotypical member of the house of black and green, someone who knew what they wanted and would fight with a smirk on her face.

Hufflepuffs on the other hand are thought to be loyal, compassionate, and sweet.

Cedric Diggory fit the description perfectly. The school golden boy with a pretty face and a kind personality.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. But just like in nature, the badger and the snake were born to fight.

When Cedric first met you, a chill went up his spine, everything about you screamed ‘no’ at him and had a scowl resting on his face seconds after just seeing you. Similarly, the hufflepuff gave off a goody-two-shoes aura, someone who couldn’t relax and caved into every demand thrown at them. You didn’t know why, but you had the overwhelming urge to push all this boy’s buttons and drive him insane. Maybe it was the whole ‘strict prefect, and perfect person’ thing going on, but you just wanted to have some fun with him.

You started small. Flirtatious winks, smirks and checking him out when you knew he was looking. The reactions ranged from annoyed to bashful and if you were lucky he grew absolutely seething.

“What the hell are you doing l/n?” He sighs as you brush your arm past him in the hall.

“What Diggory? Am I not good enough to be in your presence?” You scoff, turning to face him. “Listen, I know what you’re trying to do and it won’t work.” The badger snarled.

“Oh Diggory, it already has.” Your smirk, brushing your wand down his jawline and licking the outside of your teeth.

Cedric couldn’t explain what got him so ticked off about you, maybe it was your care-free demeanour; someone who could get whatever she wanted with a snap of her fingers. He’d seen you in between classes, people fawning over you or begging for your forgiveness, only to be met by your stoic face. Your whole being betrayed every instinct and belief Cedric held, and the voice in his head begged to attack.

And so the battle between the badger and the snake continued, you pushed the badger’s buttons, challenging him and egging him on to snap.

“I’m not going to ask again l/n.” The brunette seethed, taking hold of your arm and pulling you back towards him after your fingers brush his back. “Ask what?” You cock your eyebrow with a grin.

“Did the pretty boy finally lose his composure?” Your grin turns malicious and Cedric pushes you against the wall. “In your dreams l/n.”

“Oh indeed you do.”

The two of you were natural born rivals, coexisting to keep the other on their toes and keep natural instincts alive. Both sides are stubborn, unwilling to let the other win. It was destined that one of you would though, these things don’t just end in draws.

As you ‘flirted’ relentlessly, Cedric’s only offence was his retaliation. He had a feeling you’d stop if he never reacted, but a piece of Cedric enjoyed the challenge and almost craved the game.

When the badger put his name into the goblet of fire you almost scoffed. Maybe you had done it, driven him off the edge and caused him to go insane. But as the boy clad in black and yellow turned to reveal a smile, you nearly choked on your pumpkin juice. How on Earth was this fool smiling at the fact he could’ve just signed himself up for a public, gruesome death.

It may be hard to believe, but even snakes can become ‘compassionate’ when it comes to things they are close too, and while you couldn’t call what you and Cedric had, a compassionate situation, a sense of worry and dread overtook your senses.

“Hey is your head in the right space?” You fall into step with the badger and place your hand onto his forehead to check if the boy was sick.

“What is your problem?” Cedric flinches back, confusion flashing onto his face as soon as your hand comes into contact with him.

“Oh I’m just checking you haven’t lost your mind Diggory.” You roll your eyes and flash a sickly sweet smile.

“It’s none of your business what I choose to do l/n, now leave me alone.” The brunette’s face remains firm.

“As you wish, your majesty.” You smirk and fall back to head to your friends.

Despite the internal fight the hufflepuff couldn’t help but almost feel sorry for the way he reacted to your gesture. It was the first time you’d shown any type of kindness towards him. And while rather strange, he knew he shouldn’t have let his aggressiveness win over his true personality.

The badger never found his voice to apologize though, and the rivalry proceeded. You wiped any trace of worry from your face and continued your mission of driving the golden boy crazy. Only thing that was different was the way Cedric reacted. When you first began your flirtatious mission, Cedric grew angry and annoyed at your attempt to gain his attention. He knew you were trying to distract him and he let it get to him.

The silver-eyed hufflepuff started to look forward to your pestering, your flirting was the only fun he got after his name was pulled from the goblet. His schedule became jam packed with training, classes and pity parties from every student who made eye-contact with him. He was happy to see that something hadn’t changed.

The first task came and had you holding your breath at each champion’s battle with their dragon. Your mouth dropped open in awe at each unique way of conquering the task, and by the time Cedric stepped up to face the Short-Snout, you were already on the edge of your seat.

Snakes are in no means known for their love, but it is known they can show compassion in subtle ways. Worry blossomed in your stomach as you watched Cedric transfigure the boulder into a dog, he was taking a huge risk using it as a distraction, when the dragon could turn at any moment. Cedric managed to grab the egg moments before the dragon lost interest in the labrador, and a weight seemed to lift from your shoulders and a small smile shone through as you joined in on the applause.

The second task arrived and the four champions dive into the water in search of their treasure. Cedric surfaced first with the girl who attended the ball with him, ensuring his spot in first. Krum was next with Hermione, Harry coming in last, but with Fleur’s person along with his.

Cedric was rather confused to see Cho at the bottom of the lake. The egg stated the treasure was the thing they missed the most, so the professors must have gotten the wrong idea when Cedric showed up at the dance with the ravenclaw, she’d simply been kind enough to be there as support because Cedric had no one else to attend with.

By the third task, the entire wizarding world was biting their nails at the anticipation of the triwizard tournament. Sitting in the bleachers in front of the massive maze, it made you uneasy you may have to sit through one of these champion’s screams, injuries or even death.

“Tied In first place we have Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter. They will enter first, shortly followed by Viktor Krum and Fleur Delacour.”

At the sound of the flare, the hufflepuff and gryffindor cautiously make their way into the green maze, choosing each step with caution and wands clutched tightly in their hands, until all that was seen was the walls of the hedge.

Cedric had endured a lot through the triwizard tournament and he was not going to give that up for anything. When he spotted Harry close by the cup, his aggressive side took over and he tried to beat the boy who lived. When Harry actually ended up saving his life, he knew there was no way he could take this victory.

The two of them touched the cup and suddenly the world morphed and they were transported to a graveyard. “A… Portkey.”

A short man enters their vision as Cedric’s weakened frame points his wand towards the intruder. “Petrificus Totalus!” The unknown man shouts as Cedric’s body seizes and he falls flat on his face, his body ignoring his constant attempts at moving to help Harry, he can only listen to everything happening as he lays uselessly against the ground.

“Cedric! Get up, we need to go now!” Harry’s frantic voice calls as He pushes Voldemort and his death eaters back. The binding pressure is suddenly released and the hufflepuff immediately jumps to his feet. He runs to the portkey, throwing back any death eaters getting too close to Harry before grabbing his hand and taking hold of the triwizard cup.

The two boys are transported back into the maze, but they waste no time rushing out and grabbing hold of the first people they see. “V-Voldemort’s back!” Harry screams, followed by Cedric’s own voice. Looks of confusion flash on everyone in the audience's face, but as the champions break down they have no way to deny it, something terrible was coming to Hogwarts.

Amos Diggory makes a beeline for his son while Harry is dragged away by professor Moody. Cedric is gasping for breath and searching around for something, someone, to keep him sane. When your eyes meet Cedric’s eyes flash in hope and he begins to limp in your direction, stumbling and falling often, but not leaving his path despite his father’s grasp. You stand to question the hufflepuff, but he simply collapses into your arms.

“I-I’m so sorry for how I t-treated you. I shouldn’t have let m-my feelings define you, a-and I hate that I despised you for n-no reason.” Cedric begins to cry in fear he could’ve died without finally getting his apology off his chest. He wraps you tightly in his arms and his breathing grows rapid. “P-Please forgive me.” He manages in between breaths and your emotionless barrier falls. “Deep breaths Diggory, you’re going to pass out if you keep this up.” You caress the boy’s back in a soothing manner, but Cedric’s murmuring only rapidly increases, and you were beginning to feel a headache. “Hey, it's alright! I forgive you.”

His muttering continues.

“Ced, please you’re bleeding, let’s go get help.”

No use.

As a final resort you gently lift Cedric’s face from the crook of your neck; tears are streaming down his face and apologies continue to flood your ears.

“Save your breath Diggory.” You smirk, pressing your lips to Cedric’s scabbed pink ones.

Your lips are still as Cedric registers your movement, his eyes widen, but slowly close as your smooth lips pull him into a daze. The slight taste of blood is forgotten as Cedric stands and cups his hands around your face, tilting his face to deepen the kiss and slip his tongue into your mouth. As he familiarizes himself with your taste a low groan emits from the back of the champion’s throat and he pulls away to look at you.

In nature, badgers and snakes are natural born enemies, but when Cedric looked into your eyes, the badger lost its temper and the snake became calm. In the Hogwarts walls the snake and the badger felt something new bubble inside them, and the statement ‘opposites attract’ finally began to make sense. Two people, so different, yet so drawn to each other. Finally giving in to their feelings, with primal instincts still flooding their senses.

“You shouldn’t have done that, once I start, I might not be able to stop.” Cedric’s voice grows low in arousal and he leans his face closer to yours.

“Then don’t stop Diggory, take me.”

Cedric immediately takes your hand in a firm grip and walks you down the bleachers, promising his father to go to the hospital wing, but entering the quidditch pitch’s change room instead.“I-I need you y/n. Fuck, you’ve made me want you for so damn long.” He moans desperately, pushing you against the stone wall and placing his hands wherever he could. You trail your fingers down the hufflepuff’s torso and nibble on his lower lip. Cedric’s hips jolt and you’re met with a sudden pressure on your lower abdomen.

“Someone’s excited.” You smirk, reaching your hand down the brunette’s trousers to take his length into your hand.

Your eyebrows raise at the champion’s size, but you don’t let it shine through as your tease your hand against him, brushing past his tip before using his precum as lubricant to move against him.

When Cedric’s face contorted into a look of pure pleasure and lust, you were sure that this was the reaction you’d wanted from Cedric from the start. Lip in between his teeth and eyes shut tight as he bites back moans and lightly tugs on your hair.

You move your hand faster, smirking in pride as loud whimpers begin to exit beautifully from Cedric’s lips and he begins rocking himself against your palm.

“You like it when I use my hand Diggory?” You tease, applying even more pressure to his aching cock as he began to twitch in your grasp.

“Oh fuck yes y/n, just like that.” The hufflepuff’s rough hands move down from your hair to grasp your face and connect your lips again, drowning out the sound of pure ecstasy leaving his mouth with each thrust of your hand.

“You better be quiet Diggory, or people will know how much of a naughty boy you are.” You whisper in a low voice.

“I’d watch your mouth if I was you.”

Cedric removes your hand from his pants and pushes you on to a wide bench, holding you down so you can’t move.

“Now it’s my turn to make you writhe.” He growls with a devilish grin, pressing open mouth kisses against your neck and sucking on the sensitive skin as he works off your skirt.

Your head falls to the side as Cedric finds your weak spot, a mewl signaling him to go harder. His hands pull down the zipper on your back and he carefully pulls it down as your intoxicating whimpers egg him further on.

“Well princess, I guess you got what you wanted.” Cedric smirks, dropping to his knees in front of you and throwing your skirt to the side.

“You’re driving me absolutely insane.”

Euphoria flows through every single nerve in your body when Cedric presses his rough fingers against your clit, the only thing separating you and pure bliss being a thin piece of fabric. Cedric uses the cloth of your panties as extra friction, slowly circling his fingers around as your back arches and your breath grows irregular. Leaning forwards, he takes the lace of your undergarment between his teeth and pulls it down your thighs, swiftly prying your legs apart as soon as your panties drop to your feet and pass your ankles. “Now be a good girl and keep these open, alright?” Cedric mutters, in a dark voice as he descends.

The hufflepuff tests the waters by licking a stripe up your core, hiding a cheeky grin at the sound of your choked moan and continuing to lap at your slick folds.

Your vision fills with dots and your mind is deprived of any thought, your only feeling was Cedric’s strong tongue flicking around and dipping in and out of your slit.

“So wet for me love?” He groans deeply, the taste of your heat, causing his arousal to grow exponentially. Your only response is the incoherent moans and curses stringing past your lips as your back arches and your body pulses in bliss.

As your hips start to buck and your legs close against his face, Cedric uses one hand to press your abdomen down and using his arm and other hand he pushes your legs apart again, your moans fueling his strength. When the brunette adds his fingers into the array, your hands move from your clothed breasts to Cedric’s soft brown hair. A sudden rush of pleasure has your grip tightening in the champions curls, and a loud curse echoes through the empty room.

“You like it when I pull your hair like that Diggory?” You tease through the pulsing in your body. “Fuck, do that again y/n.” His deep growl responds as his fingers quicken and hit deeper inside your tight walls.

With each tight grip in Cedric’s curls, a loud moan was heard in response as he thrusts his fingers deeper and sucks harder, letting his moans vibrate through to your clit to fill your lower stomach with butterflies.

“I-I’m gonna cum!” You whimper loudly.

“You can cum if you beg.” The hufflepuff purrs with one last roll of his tongue, pausing his fingers, still deep inside of you. Every ounce of your dignity is shredded as the pleasure of Cedric’s mouth and fingers stop.

“Please Diggory, let me cum.” You mewl in desperation, but he doesn’t move.

“Try again love.” He smirks in amusement.

“Please Cedric, you make me feel so good! I’m so fucking close, I need to cum.” You moan in frustration, grinding your hips frantically for any friction. Cedric chuckles darkly, pulling his fingers out almost fully before slamming right back into you.

“Merlin, you say my name so perfectly darling.” The brunette grins, pulling his finger out and slamming back again.

“Say it again.” Cedric commands, attaching his lips to your clit, his fingers now ramming in and out of you.

“Cedric! Oh fuck!” your choked voice almost comes out as a sob, and your incoherent moans mix deliciously with your lover’s name.

With the combined stimulation of Cedric’s rough fingers and strong tongue, a coil snaps as your body seems to lose control. Writhing, pulsing, and gripping Cedric’s hair as you pant for breath.

Cedric pauses the assault with his tongue, but continues using his fingers to help ride out your high.

When the shockwaves finally stop and you’re able to open your eyes again, Cedric is leaning directly above you, a grin plastered on his face. “You’re so beautiful when you cum.” The hufflepuff begins kissing down your neck as his hands move down his torso and pulls his shirt up his chest. Cedric pauses to wince as cuts reopen and the fabric irritates his bruises, but when you sit up to help him, he pushes you down again. “I’m fine, It’s just a couple scratches.” He smirks looking back down at you, but you’ve regained your senses and have pushed the toned champion back onto the bench and climbed onto his lap.

“Are you sure? You looked pretty banged up.” your voice comes out as a soft whisper as you begin to press butterfly kisses to his bruises.

“Yes, f-fuck y/n.” He groans as you suddenly bite down on his shoulder, sucking on it for a couple seconds until you’re sure a hickey will form.

“Good, because it’s my turn now.”

You lift your hips from his lap to tug his shorts down and he lifts his bottom up to help you. As soon as they’re off you begin to unbutton your blouse, shrugging it off before leaning forwards and running a finger down Cedric’s abdomen. “Help me?” You smirk, standing and brushing your hair aside to reveal your bra strap. Cedric obliges with shaky fingers as his cock grows harder and begins twitching. Once it comes loose, you turn and connect lips with Cedric’s again, moving your hand to the back of the brunette’s head to run your hands through his hair and cup his jaw. Cedric takes your hips into his hands and slowly brings you towards him again. You shuffle onto Cedric’s lap again, hovering just above his cock as he rubs the sides of your body.

Without warning you sink onto him, relaxing your walls to take all of Cedric’s length. His grip on your waist tightens as you wrap around him. Strings of curses leave his mouth as his head falls onto your shoulder and he nips at the sensitive skin. When you’re halfway down, he moves his hands from your hips to your breasts, massaging them roughly and peppering kisses all over. With the Help of Cedric’s wandering hands and caring mouth, you bottom out and adjust to the feeling of being full. Your hands dig into Cedric’s shoulder blades and you begin moving up and down. It’s slow at first, you aren’t quite sure how to do it, but the hufflepuff uses his hands on your hips to guide you and soon you’re bouncing up and down, the grip on your side and the waves of euphoria from Cedric’s cock pushing you further than you could have ever thought possible.

“You feel so good darling.” Cedric sighs, his eyes squeezed shut and mouth wide open as your walls wrap tighter against him with each bounce. You don’t respond, your thoughts occupied with keeping the euphoric feeling coming. Using Cedric’s broad shoulders you begin to pick up the pace, sucking dark marks into existence on his chest, panting breathy moans into his ear and tightening your grip around his shaft to earn you that desperate moan that made you dizzy.

With the overstimulation from your voice and love bites Cedric could feel his release coming, but he wasn’t ready to end this just yet, with the last couple bounces he summoned as much strength as he could to lift you from his lap and release onto your abdomen. It took everything in him not to drop you or collapse right there, but he managed, setting you back down on the wide bench to push you back and tilt your chin up to meet eye to eye.

“Don’t t-think I’m done with you yet princess.” He growls.

The lustful look in your eyes as your pupils dilated and your mouth hung open had him hard all over again and before you could reply with something witty, he pounded right back into you.

Your head is thrown back at the new angle Cedric is fucking you in, your back arches so he can move deeper and your legs swing up to wrap around his torso, bringing him impossibly close to you. Cedric responds with vigorous thrusts, desperate for you to submit to him and end this with him on top. While he desperately rolls his hips into yours, you pull his head down and reconnect your lips, using your tongue to explore his mouth as you swallow the breathy moans of the grey eyed hufflepuff. Your teeth clash, lips mold and tongues dance as Cedric fucks you senseless.

“Oh fuck Cedric right there!” You cry, rolling your hips up to meet the champion’s needy thrusts and allowing your moans to fill the empty air. Skin hitting skin is the only sound other than your moans and cries mixing together, intimately connecting and reconnecting over and over as wave after wave of pleasure and euphoria floods your veins and every corner of your body. Your eyes roll back and your toes curl with each movement of Cedric’s hips and with his arms pinned above your head and his low groans right in front of your face you could not contain the knot that was forming in your abdomen. Your nails rake down Cedric’s back and bury themselves into his hair as you grin victoriously at the loud profanities spilling through his gritted teeth. With each pump of his length the knot grows tighter and tighter, Pleasure is swapped with pure bliss and Cedric can feel it too as his thrusts grow sloppy and your core tightens against him. He lets himself go, and you follow right behind him. The proof of your pleasures stream between the two of you, down your legs and in between where you are still connected.

Cedric helps you ride out your high as you run your shaky finger up and down his chest, a smile growing on your face as Cedric finally opens his eyes and looks back down at your tired form, panting and grinning back down at you.

“I win.” He smirks, lazily pulling out of you and resting himself on his elbows.

“In your dreams Diggory.” You roll your eyes and move some hair out of the boy’s face.

“Oh are we back on the last name basis?” Cedric chuckles, cupping your cheek and using his thumb to circle your cheek.

“Only if you want Ced.” You sigh, tilting your head closer to Cedric’s warm palm.

“Well in that case, you better get used to calling me Cedric, y/n.” The hufflepuff beams, sitting up and pulling you onto his lap.

Your eyes widen and you begin to laugh joyously as you connect your lips to Cedric’s again, mumbling sweet nothings in between each peck. You stay like that for a second, in each other’s arms, relishing the feeling of finally being complete and content, but as you press your hand to Cedric’s chest he winces and you know the moment has to end.

“Alright lover boy, it’s time to get you to the hospital wing.” You sigh, pecking Cedric’s lips once more before grabbing your wand and quickly cleaning off the mess in between you and Cedric’s legs. “Do I have too?” Cedric groans, pulling you back to him, as you clasp your bra on. “I’m sure I’ll be fine just sitting here in your arms.” He states staring lovingly into your eyes. “Sorry Ced, but even I don’t know a lot of healing spells and by the look of it you’re gonna need them.” You giggle, standing on shaky legs as you pick up your blouse and skirts again.

“Get changed Ced, I’ll meet you outside.” You smirk, slowly making your way out of the room with a slight swing in your hips.

Taking a deep breath of the night air, you take a moment to really take in what just happened. You thought you hated that boy, but maybe that was just for show. Maybe you’d always had feelings for the boy with the yellow scarf and you had been too naive to realize it. It felt strange how the part of your brain that convinced you to fight was now telling you this was right, but you were fine with it, your whole perspective had changed of this boy from the moment he came limping to you in the stadium.

Cedric had similar thoughts as he tugged on his shirt and pants. He finally realized the feeling he got when you looked at him wasn’t annoyance, it was a crush. A fancy that he wanted so badly to deny, but embrace at the same time, and now he could.

As he finally walked out to you and wrapped you in his arms, you knew it was right and you were where you are meant to be. As you interlocked hands with the grey eyed hufflepuff, making your way towards the castle and your new life. Something was made crystal clear.

Badgers and snakes are natural born enemies, made to fight and hate each other. But you and Cedric aren’t the animals you are associated with,

you’re humans and you had the choice to decide how you would treat your opposite.

And although the two of you were clear descriptions of the houses you were assigned, your personalities molded perfectly.

As Cedric lay in the hospital bed, Madam Pomfrey healing his wounds, you stuck by his side and held his hand, knowing the snake would never define you. The badger would never define Cedric. You were your own people, and you were in love.

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loving-all-for-loki · 3 years

Note

i really love your writing sm. could I maybe request something with Loki and reader being slow to realize that the feeling is mutual? if you dont mind <3

A/N: Thank you so much! I’m glad you enjoy my writing, that makes me very happy to hear. I tried my best with this, I wasn’t really sure how to go about it, but I think I did a fun little twist to it. The italics are flashbacks. ALSO, you don’t need to know the song “Stuck In The Middle” to read this, but it will make this fic a little bit cuter if you do, so go stream it! It’s by Tai Verdes (actually just go listen to his whole album TV). I hope you enjoy this, nonnie.

Stuck In The Middle

Loki x reader

Word count: 2255

Warnings: fluff, maybe swearing I don't remember lol

Tony decided to throw another one of his giant parties, but no one is really sure why. There’s no holiday, no accomplishment to celebrate. All you know is that the tower is filled to the brim with high named people and well rounded faces. Music is blaring as people lounge around drinking or casually dancing. The Avengers are all around, scattered among the faces.

You on the other hand are leaning against a wall drinking some pop and trying to ignore the creepy men that hit on you. Parties are fine, you don’t mind them, but you don't go around gloating about your business or accomplishments. You watch Tony walk around getting praised by millionaires and celebrities with a smirk on your face. Shaking your head, you look down and give your glass of water more attention than the people.

“You really should get out there.”

Steve stands next to you with his little suit on that makes you laugh. You’re not used to seeing him all dressed up.

“I’m not a boaster. I’ll dance here and there, but conversation isn’t my forte.”

“You're having a conversation with me, so what does that say?” He laughs.

“I don’t need your technicalities, Cap,” you laugh as well.

“You don’t even have to talk to people you don’t know. We’re all here.”

“Fair enough.”

“Do you want me to stay here with you?”

“No, Steve. Go have fun.”

He smiles at you before returning to his seat at the bar by Bucky and Sam. You smile at the three of them. You do truly love your friends, even if they bother you during alone time.

“Why would you enjoy them if they bother you?”

“Loki, stop reading my mind.”

“I can’t. You’re quite loud,” he jokes.

You roll your eyes as you take another sip of your water.

“Do you not like these grand parties?” He asks.

“Eh, I don’t mind them. Just not a bragger.”

“Ah, yes. One night dedicated to gloating about your own accomplishments while putting down others.”

“No, that’s the Oscars,” you joke.

“Who is Oscar?”

“Never mind. Why you go out and dance? I bet you have some moves.”

“Not without a partner. I’m more of a partner dancer.”

“Well, there’s plenty of pretty girls around you to ask to dance.”

“Why dance with a pretty girl when I have the most beautiful one right here leaning against a wall and ignoring everyone? That’s more my style.”

“Loki, I’m flatter,” you laugh, “is this your way of asking me to dance?”

“Possibly. Thor has been bugging me to ‘get out there’ and I don’t like anyone here beside you.”

“Such a gentleman.”

Loki rolls his eyes as he takes your hand in his and leads you to the dance floor. The song changes into a fun chill song you recognize as “Stuck In The Middle”. You and Loki dance together as the two of you laugh. At some point, he pulls you into him, holding him at your chest.

“Remember when we first met?” He asks.

“Yeah, I do. You were arguing with Tony and Thor.”

“I want to return to Asgard and I will no matter what you say.”

“You’re a war criminal serving time here for your attacks. If you even attempted to go back, the American army would shoot you down.”

“And good luck to them.”

“My brother is a god, Man of Iron, do not forget.”

“Shut it, point break. You can try to leave if you want to die.”

Loki scoffs at Tony’s threat. As he goes to open his mouth, he sees a girl wander into the living area and scour the kitchen. The three watch her in silent and she opens every cabinet. Loki is curious by the girl with her long black hair and sweats on, clearing not caring about the argument happening. She finally turns around with her mouth filled with pretzels from shoving them in. She looks at the two gods and Tony with a wide eyed look, clearly asking “what” in her face and shrugging.

“Am I interrupting something?” She asks after swallowing.

Tony laughs and shakes his head, walking over to her and placing a hand on her shoulder.

“You’re fine, sweetheart. We’re just having a disagreement. Go enjoy your pretzels,” Tony chuckles.

Loki watches the way she submits to Tony and follows his lead, wondering who she is and why she listens to Tony without hesitation.

“I was so intrigued by you, this small little thing who looked so full of life. What happened to her?”

You laugh hard, “You got to know me, that’s what.”

Loki hadn’t seen the innocent girl in two weeks, wondering if she was even real. There had been some kind of glow to her so had he known better, he’d say she’s an angel.

Loki decided to coop himself up in the library while he was stuck on Midgard. Since he was stuck here, he thought he’d at least spend time doing something enjoyable. He’d spend hours in there until he had read every book and started to reread them. Then, as if the universe had heard him, the innocent girl had returned, putting a book away and getting a new one. She immediately walked out of the room and down to the tower’s elevator. Without hesitation, Loki got up and followed her at a quick pace, wanting to get in the elevator at the same time. As he walked in, they stood in silence next to each other and Loki realized he had no plan.

“I’m Loki. I don’t think we properly met.”

“Y/N.”

Loki feels his heart pound as she speaks to him with her heavenly tone. She sounds exactly like he thought she’d sound. It fits her so perfectly and he wants nothing more than to listen to her talk all day.

“I apologize for anything you heard the other day. Stark and I don’t see eye to eye.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she laughs, “He can strike a nerve sometimes.”

“That is an understatement,” Loki says, losing himself in his anger towards the billionaire.

You laugh at his comment which eases his anger. Loki is filled with joy knowing you find humor in his words, learning you’re not as stuck up as the other Midgardians.

“You read?”

“Yes, I love to.”

“What’s your favorite book?”

“Sense and Sensibility.”

“I don’t think I know that one.”

“It’s a Midgardian classic,” you say with some snark.

“I’ll have to read it. May I ask what you are doing for the rest of the day?”

The elevator opens and the two of you walk off, Loki still following you with awe.

“I’m going to spar with Steve for a little bit. You can join if you want.”

“I will not participate, but will not refuse to be of company.”

You smile at him as you walk towards the training room. Steve stands there getting ready and is surprised to see the stoic god behind you.

“Is he joining?”

“Just to watch.”

Loki sits down on the bench and leaves you to get changed and stretch. He can’t comprehend how something as sweet as you can be so willing to fight one of the super soldiers. He can’t even lie that he’s scared for you, but he’s soon proven wrong in seconds as you knock Steve down to the ground in a sweet kick. You and the super soldier go at it and you prove to be a worthy match for Steve. Loki is shocked by your swiftness and strength, clearly underestimating you.

“Well, I’m impressed.”

“I didn’t expect you to be as tough as you are.” “Wow, you underestimated me. I’m hurt, Loki,” you tease.

“I’ve learned to expect the unexpected with you.”

“How so?”

“I think we all remember your silly holiday ‘April fools’.”

April fools is one of your favorite holidays and now that the trickster god is living with you, all of the avengers are on high alert all day. No one realized he didn’t know about the special day, so Loki wondered why everyone seemed to ignore him more than usual. He walked into the living space to see you sitting on the couch with another book.

“Did I do something?” He asks.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m aware I’m not well liked, but it seems that I haven’t seen anyone all day except for you right now.”

“It’s because its’ April fools and they’re scared of you.”

A little ping of pride hits Loki.

“They’re scared of me? And what is April fools?”

“It’s a dumb holiday here where you prank people and they’re worried you’re going to pull something. After all, you are you.”

“You have a whole day dedicated to messing with people?”

“Yeah, usually it’s something simple like telling people you’re pregnant when you’re not or tying the spray nozzle on the sink together so everyone gets wet when they use it. Other people go big which is what they expected from you.”

“That doesn’t shock me,” he laughs.

“Yeah, I wanted to prank them, but I think they’ve left the building entirely.”

“You say we have the tower to the two of us?” Loki can think of a couple ways he’d spend alone time with you, but the idea of messing with the Avengers with your help is too tempting. He’ll have to put his other ideas to the side for the moment. “We can still do something.”

“Like what?”

“I’m not sure, but you could think of something, I’m sure.”

“We could glue everything down so you can use anything?”

“Like stick the together?”

“Exactly, but we could use your magic so we could reverse it later.”

“I like how you think.”

About two hours later, the Avengers return from wherever they had been throughout the day and run to their rooms to avoid Loki. As soon as they noticed the two of you relaxing on the couch, they tensed up and sprinted. You pretended to not have told Loki about anything and watched them get nervous, trying to hide your amusement.

It’s only minutes later when they all run back in yelling at you about how they can’t pick anything up or open drawers. Loki looks over to you among the chaos and smiles, seeing the wide proud smile across your face.

“That was a lot of fun. You surprised me in the past though, too.”

“Whatever do you mean?” He laughs.

You had gotten hurt on a mission and found yourself with a broken arm. Every day activities became 10x harder because you have to do it with your non-dominant hand and it’s started to get annoying. You’ve been attempting to make yourself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for about 25 minutes now. Loki walked in to see you struggling with peanut butter all over your hand and a glob on the bread. There’s a giant tear in the middle of the piece you’re spreading it on and a frown on your face.

“You look like you’re struggling.”

“Thank you, captain obvious!” You exclaim in an angry tone, glaring daggers at the god.

“Do you need some help?”

“I would love some because clearly, I’m having some difficulty.”

Loki comes over and helps you finish making your sandwich. You sit down to eat but because of your bad mood, you don’t even want it now. Loki notices your distress and shakes it head, waving his hand by.

“You’re healed, now eat your sandwich.”

You look at him in confusion until you realize your arm doesn’t hurt as much when you move it. You rip off your cast and feel around to feel how your arm is completely healed.

“Thank you!”

“You can be very sweet sometimes.”

“Don’t let Stark hear that, he’ll think I have mind controlled you.”

The Avengers all sit around the bar and watch you and Loki dance. They have a big smile on their face as they see you two have fun, laughing and talking. Thor has never seen his brother look so relaxed and joyful before, it’s refreshing to see him happy. Steve and Tony don’t miss the way you look at Loki, it’s filled with more love than any friends would look at each with.

“You think there’s more there?” Thor asks.

Steve and Tony turn to look at him with confused yet amused faces. “Thor, you really are an idiot,” Tony laughs.

The song comes up to the last chorus and you and Loki have stopped talking. He swings you around and holds his body next to yours. The music get’s both of your attention.

Cause we’re stuck in the middle of lover and friends

And we’re losing every part of the benefits

You’ve hurt me more than I ever knew

But it’s shitty because I’m doing the same to you

As the lyrics set in, you remember all the things Loki has done for you. Making your PB&J, recommending books, keeping you company when the Avengers are away, dancing with you at New Years parties, giving you a hug when you return from missions, and not leaving your side when you’re hurt. Loki thinks of all the things that made you bearable. Your sense of humor, the smile on your face when you see him, the way you’ll reread books you love, the way you make fun of others with him, and how you defend him when they make fun of him.

“I think I like you,” you both say.

#loki fluff #loki fanfic #loki fan fiction #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki #loki x reader fluff #loki layfeyson x reader #loki oneshot #marvel x reader

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ickle-ronniekins · 3 years

Text

black & white

request: from nonnie: ASDFGhjkl. Why are your fics so CUTE? 😭 Can I request a cute and cheesy George proposing to the fem!reader—and they’re wedding? 💜

desc: a love story unfolded via a timeline of events and colors. based on the song ‘black and white’ by niall horan

pairing: george x fem!reader

word count: 5.5k

warning(s): lil bit of angst, alcohol, some sexual content if you squint but it stops before things ~heat up~

A/N: this is just pure fluff. may or may not have cried at the cheesiness. idk. i’m a cheesy gal. can’t help it. i’m in love with a fictional character. sorry i went a tad overboard with this. also let’s pretend ~voldy~ doesn’t exist in this k? reminder that my requests are currently closed, i am merely working through the requests already in my inbox. i do not give permission for my work to be posted on any other platform.

Red

Red, hot fury swept through your bones as you watched him laugh hysterically alongside his brother. You balled your fists together, ready to throw a punch, but you knew your mum would lock you in your room until you were forty years of age if you even thought of throwing hands.

George Weasley was a pretentious little git. It was bad enough that he was your neighbour and you had to see him and his equally annoying twin in the village nearly every day, but what made it even worse was that for whatever reason, he’d chosen you to be on the receiving end of all of his pranks. His mother, Molly, was not for it -- she often gave her sons a solid tongue lashing, but it clearly never made an impact, for each and every day they were back to their normal mischief, seeking out ways to make you shake with anger.

“Weasley!” you squeaked as he and his brother ran back across the field toward their home. You loathed the idea of being in the same school as him in just two years time. At least here, at home, you could escape to your own house and your own room, far away from the boy who teasingly threw a red paint balloon all over you and your new dress. But at school, well -- the castle was only so big, wasn’t it? You weren’t sure how far away from him you’d be able to get.

You watched as he and Fred ran away, their giggles echoing through the air on top of the hill. You looked down at your ruined dress and screamed. You reckoned you’d never be able to love the colour red ever again -- not when it had ruined your beautiful purple dress, and especially when it was the colour of his annoying, messy hair.

Yellow

“I’m really sorry.”

He was standing across from you in the field. You thought about telling him that you needed to take four showers in order to get all of the red paint from your hair, and that your dress was permanently stained, but instead you folded your arms across your chest and huffed a bit. Not even magic could salvage it.

“I promise, I mean it,” he squeaked, as if he could read your mind. He seemed sincere, but he was always getting into all types of trouble, wasn’t he? Perhaps he was as good a liar as he was a pranker.

You kicked at the dirt, unsure of what to say. “You ruined my dress.”

“I know, I’m really sorry,” he said again, “it was all Freddie’s doing! I know he normally takes charge of pranks, but blimey, I told him it wasn’t a good idea.”

You arched your eyebrows up in surprise. “You did?”

“Yeah,” George told you. The wind ruffled the leaves on the tree next to you both, and you watched him tentatively as a big smile split his face. He wandered over to the tree trunk and picked at the flowers that were growing at the base. Then he turned around, marched right over to you, and handed them to you.

Yellow dandelions. You peered down at them, and then looked up at him in surprise. This wouldn’t fix your dress, but he was trying, at least. You noticed the dimples that appeared on his cheeks when he smiled. “Pretty flowers for a pretty girl.”

You couldn’t help it; you blushed and looked toward the ground. You picked a bit at the flowers and met George’s gaze once again. “You still owe me, Weasley.”

You both heard Molly calling him for dinner. “Okay, mum!” he called back, his voice echoing against the wind. He turned back toward you. “Promise. I owe you. I also promise to kick Fred’s arse since it was his idea anyway.”

A squeak of a giggle emitted from your lips and you watched as George Weasley skipped all the way home.

Blue

All of Ravenclaw house erupted into cheers as the colours of the Great Hall changed to celebrate the momentous occasion of your house winning the Quidditch Cup. It had been a neck to neck match against Gryffindor, but had you not caught the snitch before Harry, they would have had it in the bag for the third year in a row.

“At the risk of sounding like I’m pro Ravenclaw, I’ve got to say, you guys put up a great match,” you whirled around in the crowd and saw George standing in front of you. He had his hands in his pockets and he shrugged, clearly upset at a Gryffindor loss, but at least they hadn’t lost to Slytherin, right? “You really are a wicked Seeker.”

“Thanks, Weasley,” you said triumphantly, both pleased with yourself for winning but also feeling a little bit guilty for beating Gryffindor.

“When did you get so good anyway?”

“Hmm,” you placed your hand to your chin and pretended to be deep in thought, “do you mean, how did I get to be so incredible? I don’t have an answer for you, truthfully, reckon I was just born with it.”

Students filtered around you both, and you watched him laugh as blue confetti fell around the both of you and the rest of the Great Hall. Personally you thought it was a little much, but the captain had insisted. You met George’s gaze again though, and rolled your eyes.

“Oi, mate,” you heard Fred call. He reached his twin and threw an arm around his shoulders, “what’re you doing over here, conversing with the enemy?” You rolled your eyes yet again, something you found yourself doing quite often with the two of them, and Fred just grinned obnoxiously at you. “Only joking, Y/N. I suppose if anyone had to beat us, we’re glad it’s Ravenclaw. But if you repeat that, we’ll deny it, I swear to Merlin.”

“My lips are sealed, Freddie.”

You bid them both adieu before turning back to your house, celebrating and clinking your goblets of pumpkin juice together, and through the yelps and the cheers, you missed George say to Fred that he actually quite liked the way the Great Hall looked, all decorated in blue.

Orange

“How about you get to work on the ground Unicorn horn, and I’ll try and get this water crystalized?” you offered.

Today’s lesson was to brew the Oculus Potion, in the event any of you ever needed to restore someone’s sight. In an attempt to separate them, Snape had paired George with you and Fred with another Ravenclaw who didn’t look happy at all at the prospect of having him as her partner. You peered over the cauldron at George and said, “No worries. We’ve only got thirteen steps. I reckon if we keep at this without any distractions, we’ll be finished before the rest of class.”

“Better get cracking, then,” George replied.

The two of you worked in comfortable silence; you tensed a few times when Snape meandered by your table, peering down into your cauldron and scoffing, for you were certain that an attempt at any type of potion would never live up to his unrealistic expectations of two sixteen-year-olds.

A little while later, you realized that the heat emitting from all of the cauldrons was making the entire classroom incredibly warm. “Blimey, could he open a bloody window, or something?” you asked, ignoring the fact that there were absolutely no windows in the dungeons. George laughed and continued to add the crystalized water into your cauldron as you pulled your sweater over your head, leaving you in your white button down and blue and grey tie. You pulled your hair back off of your neck and said, “Alright, be sure to only add the water until it turns indigo, George.”

The poor lad hadn’t been paying attention, because your potion was far past indigo at this point. In fact, it looked as though it had turned a deep, navy blue, bordering on black, as George peered at you with soft eyes and continued to pour in the crystalized water, not realizing that he was messing up your carefully brewed potion. A snapping noise pulled him from his thoughts, and a slight explosion erupted from your cauldron and caused black smoke to cover George’s face and hair.

Most of the class began to laugh, but Snape angrily shushed them and sauntered over to the two of you, clearly giddy beyond belief that he was able to deduct points from both of your houses for causing such a ruckus in his precious dungeons. George wiped a bit of the soot from his forehead as you poured in the antidote and giggled.

“Merlin, I’m sorry -- didn’t mean to get points taken from your house.”

“Eh, it was bound to happen sooner or later.. don’t worry about it. Look! Good as new,” you clapped your hands together as the potion turned to the desired shade of orange before the final two steps. You met George’s look through the orange haze over your cauldron and asked him, “What had you so distracted anyway, Weasley?”

“Oh, erm -- nothing,” he replied a bit quickly. It didn’t go unnoticed how he’d stumbled over his words and immediately went back to looking rather intently at the directions. You bit back a smile and looked back down at yours too, unable to rid yourself of the nerves bubbling up inside of you as George looked up once again, stealing glances at you through the orange mist as nerves overtook him, too.

Green

“You had no right to do that! What the bloody hell were you thinking?”

George was standing across from you on the empty dance floor; the Yule Ball had ended abruptly and each and every student had filtered from the Great Hall and back to their respective dormitories, per the teachers. The two of you had managed to stay somehow, now more than ten feet away; you looked at one another with envy as a dramatic scene unfurled between you both.

The entire night had been nothing but a dream, up until that one dance. You’d waltzed in, your light green dress swaying beautifully near your ankles, your hand wrapped around your date’s arm. You waved to your friends, who stood with their respective dates as well, and promised yourself you’d catch up with them at the end of the night when you’d undoubtedly have stories to tell them of the most magical evening of your life.

Except that wasn’t how it worked out, had it?

“He was all over you!” George called, and you noticed how prominent the veins in his hands were when he threw them up in the air. “You said no, didn’t you? He asked you to come back to his dorm and you’d said no. Did you expect me to stand there and do nothing when he grabbed your wrists and tried to pull you there?”

George was right. You had said no, and truthfully, the way your date had grabbed you and attempted to drag you back to his room had really frightened you. You reckoned it was the firewhisky he’d drunk earlier that evening -- he wasn’t violent or anything, but he seemed desperate to get you there. All George had done was step in and stand up for you, so why on earth should you be angry at him?

You didn’t want to give George the satisfaction of letting him know that he was right. You were mad at him for other reasons, anyway. It should’ve been you that he asked to the ball, not that other disturbingly annoying Beauxbatons girl. It’s like he’d picked her particularly because he knew her annoying, bubbly personality and thick French accent would get right under your skin.

You softened a bit as you took a deep breath. “I appreciate what you did, George, but it wasn’t your place. I can take care of myself. He nearly knocked you right out!”

George winced at your words and brought a hand to his black and blue eye. He hadn’t even had the time to grab some ice and place it to the injury, and it was now rather swollen. “I don’t care if he knocked me to the bloody ground, I wasn’t going to let him do that to you!”

You couldn’t help it; anger took you over and you were saying things you shouldn’t have before you could second guess yourself. “Well you know what, George? Perhaps he wouldn’t have had the chance to try anything with me if you’d just bloody asked me to the ball first instead of that stuffy Beauxbatons girl!”

You knew your words hurt him, but you didn’t care. He looked as though he’d gotten the wind knocked out of him; he stepped backward and faltered a bit. His breathing became heavy and irregular. “You already had your date when I asked her, Y/N -- don’t you dare try and pin this on me.”

He was right, yet again. You couldn’t help it. Big, fat tears were falling down your face now and you reckoned you wouldn’t be able to salvage the rest of the hideousness that was this evening. You wiped your tears with the back of your hand and noticed the smears of black mascara and eyeliner on your skin. He inched forward now and opened his arms, but you backed away, still not ready to show him any affection.

You were being a git, but the truth was, you’d waited until the very last possible second for George to ask you to the ball. So when he didn’t, you begrudgingly agreed to the Hufflepuff who’d stepped forward and asked you himself. And as you walked swiftly passed George and up the steps to your common room, you realized that though you’d said yes, your heart had been with the Weasley boy you so adored the entire evening.

In truth, what he’d done was brave and full of love and passion. But you were still filled with hurt.

The green monster of jealousy that you’d felt when you’d watched him dance with his date was such a vice, but you just couldn’t help how you felt.

You left George alone in the desolate Great Hall as he let his head fall into his hands, pushing down his fury and tears.

Grey

You hadn’t gone back to him, that boy from the Yule Ball. You thought about it, but you figured you’d spare George more anger.

He’d approached you, your date, the day afterwards, apologizing profusely for his behaviour and how embarrassed he was at the whole ordeal. He’d asked you for lunch, only if you were okay, and you politely declined. “Friends,” you’d said, and he smiled pitifully, but gratefully, and took your hand in his to shake it.

It was so stupid, wasn’t it? Fighting with George over this. So he hadn’t asked you to the Yule Ball, so what? It wasn’t the end all, be all, was it? And he’d stood up for you, hadn’t he? When things had gotten a little out of control. He hadn’t been your date, but he had been your saviour.

It had only been a week since the dance and you two hadn’t said a word to one another. Fred had begged you too. “Come on, Y/N, you know he’s real sorry. Can’t you just forgive him? Blimey, it’s a right difficult thing to do, splitting my time between you both.”

You merely pressed your lips together and huffed. “He can come apologize to me himself, Fred. He doesn’t need you to do it for him.”

But later that afternoon, you figured, why wait? This whole thing was so dramatic and stupid. And so after rereading the same page eight times due to your lack of concentration, you jumped up from your chair in the Ravenclaw common room and made way toward the Great Hall, as fast as your legs could carry you. You were just going to tell him exactly that -- that this entire thing was dumb, and that you were thankful for him, and that bloody hell, you missed him. Perhaps it was a bit dramatic -- it had only been six days, right? You couldn’t help it. You missed him. You missed him a lot.

The thought of finally speaking to him after a very dramatic week apart made your heart flutter, and a very wide smile split your face just as you were about to round the last bend before the Great Hall.

And then you saw it. Them. Tucked away in a corner near a deserted classroom -- tangled together, George’s hands on her waist, hers in his long red hair. Her lips nearly on his. Smiling, giggling. Kissing him.

That bloody annoying Beauxbatons girl.

You stopped short and nearly tripped over your own two feet. You opened your mouth to speak but just let your mouth tremble in silence as you watched them snog one another. Her laugh was so painfully sugary sweet, you felt as though you’d like to rip your own hair out.

You were surprised how quickly the sight of them had sent your heart plummeting into your stomach. Somewhere in the few moments when you stood there in shock, your vision had become blurry and your face had become wet. You wiped at it with your sweater sleeve and sniffled quietly so they wouldn’t hear you. You spun on your heel and sped back toward your common room, wondering what the bloody hell had come over you when you thought of apologizing to him. You just wanted to get back to your dorm. Or perhaps back to your house in Ottery St. Catchpole. Stupid, silly girl you were.

If only you knew that George had spotted you before you’d left and froze solid in the spot he was standing, ignoring the forwardness of the Beauxbatons girl attached to his arm, his heart and mind chasing you all the way home.

Purple

The Ravenclaw common room was completely empty except for you. You always did this, though -- each and every year, you were always the last to finish packing. Not because you were a procrastinator, but because you hated admitting to yourself that another year was over, and you were another year closer to impending graduation.

Someone popped through the door and said your name softly. You turned and saw George standing there with a small smile on his face. “Hey,” he said, “train’s here. You almost ready to go?”

You groaned and looked back down at your trunk, now fully packed. “If I’ve got to be.” You felt like an absolute idiot that those few words brought tears to your eyes so easily. “Oi, here I go again.”

George laughed lightly and pulled you into a hug. “We’ll be back in no time, you’ll see again how quickly the summer holidays go.”

“But George, it’s our last year!” you cried. And then you took a deep breath to calm yourself down, because you didn’t fancy the idea of boarding the train with smudged makeup and a red nose. “Anyway, shall we?”

When you grabbed your trunk and headed toward the door, George gently took your hand in his and turned you around. “I’ve got something for you actually.”

You wiggled your eyebrows at him and clapped your hands together. “A present? It’s not even my birthday.”

But then you wondered if it was actually a present he wanted to give you, because he took your other hand in his and squeezed them, a serious look on his face. Your features twisted into that of confusion, and you’d be lying if you said that your heartbeat didn’t increase at the sight of him looking at you so earnestly. “What is it?”

“I’ve been a real git this year. Specifically, the Yule Ball. And a little while after that.”

You laughed and playfully shoved him. Though you still felt the sting of those few weeks, you two had managed to patch things up. He hadn’t lasted that long with that Beauxbatons girl anyway. “George, we’ve been over this, c’mon -- you were only doing what you thought was right. I’ve forgiven you, you know.”

“I know,” he smiled, and you could tell that he was equally as glad as you were that you two had placed that argument behind you. But what you two hadn’t touched on since then was what you’d said to him in a fit of fury: Perhaps he wouldn’t have had the chance to try anything with me if you’d just bloody asked me to the ball first instead of that stuffy Beauxbatons girl!

Of course he’d wanted to ask you. He’d wanted to ask you more than anything in the entire world, but each and every time he’d opened his mouth to say something, he couldn’t. Bloody nerves, and all that. Then he went and acted like a prat, making you cry, and he vowed to himself that he’d never make you cry again, unless it were happy tears.

“I realized I’ve never properly made it up to you -- not asking you to the the Yule Ball in the first place, and that time when we were nine.”

You raised your eyebrows suspiciously. “When we were nine? What the bloody hell happened when we were nine?”

And then he pulled from his pocket the most beautiful lavender pendant you ever did see. The circular stone was outlined in the same silver as the chain, and the sun flooding in from the windows made it sparkle more than anything you’d ever seen in your life. Your breath caught in your throat and you looked back and forth from the necklace to George, and back again.

“I ruined your purple dress, remember?” he asked you. He laughed a bit, probably thinking about the ridiculous way you’d looked with red paint splattered all over you. You couldn’t believe he remembered that. “Now, it’s not a dress, but seeing as we’ve grown up a bit since then, I reckoned you’d prefer something a little nicer.” He swallowed over a lump in his throat before continuing. “I never fancied her, you know. That girl from Beauxbatons. I just...” he trailed off, searching for words he couldn’t seem to muster up. You wondered if he could hear the dramatic thump of your heart, beating loudly in the heavy silence. “It doesn’t matter. It was you I wanted to be with that night, and long after. I still do.”

Then he brushed aside your hair and placed the pendant around your neck. You peered at him through blurry vision, and surprised yourself that you were now crying due to the tenderness of his touch and the emotion in his gift and not that you two were about the board the train and leave school, no longer the same two people you were just a few moments ago.

You did the only thing you could think of and you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him. You felt his shock, but it took him only mere milliseconds before he was kissing you back. In truth, you’d been wondering what it would feel like to kiss him -- the taste of him, the feel of your limbs entangled together, exactly how high your heart would soar. It was exactly the way first kisses were meant to be -- slow, and easy, and warm, the way it’s supposed to feel after having swam all day long -- your body limp and muscles de-tensing. You moulded perfectly with him, and when gravity (or rather, the first signal of the train’s departure) pulled you from one another, he peered at you with such affection that you felt as though you might explode.

You grabbed the pendant and held in gently in between your fingers, already having memorized the outline of the silver and the different shades of purple within it. “I am so bloody happy you threw red paint at me that day, Weasley.”

He laughed haughtily, throwing his head back before swinging an arm around your waist and pulling your trunk toward the exit of the Ravenclaw common room. “Merlin, me too.”

White

You were sitting at your kitchen table, ignoring the massive amount of work in front of you to admire your other hard work. Your cozy little flat looked just as you always imagined it would, with the added bonus of your boyfriend in the corner of the front entrance, fixing a loose coat hanger on the wall.

Never in your life did you imagine that things could be as perfect as this.

You couldn’t help but wonder if it would be a flat you two would share one day.

You got up and brought with you his half empty glass of wine and handed it to him. Gratefully he took it and sipped before pressing a feather light kiss to your forehead. But then you gently traced his jawline with your finger, down his neck, across his collar bone until he followed your move and leaned in to kiss you. It was soft and chaste and everything like your first one had been. But as the alcohol worked its way through your veins, you found yourself pressing yourself harder against him.

A moan of content escaped him as you bit down on his lip and slipped your hands underneath his shirt, hands pressed against his chest. Unashamedly, you pulled him toward your bedroom, and he placed his empty wine glass next to yours on the table as he kicked the door closed.

The two of you fell backwards onto the bed in an entanglement of limbs. He hovered above you, dropping down a bit to press light kisses to your neck, in between your collarbones, behind your ears, against your jawline. You so desperately wanted to feel his weight on top of you, and so you yanked him firmly against you and kissed him in a way that there was no aching way that he wouldn’t be able to tell exactly what you wanted.

He began to undo the buttons on your shirt, taking time to press kisses into your chest at the exposed places before he stopped himself and gently ran his hands across your hips, and then your cheek. His voice was merely a whisper in the deafening silence, “Are you sure?”

He gazed at you with such tenderness and love that you knew he’d stop, if you’d asked him to. He wouldn’t go another inch further if you weren’t ready. And for you, that was more than enough.

“I’m sure.”

He sucked in a breath and dipped down to press lips to yours gently before continuing to make light work of your clothes. He explored every inch of you, and the sensation of his lips gently grazing your skin caused you to arch your back in pleasure. You could feel him smiling against you, wildly in love, handling you with such care as if you were a tiny glass figure he was afraid of breaking. He held you so delicately and worked his way through each and every single one of your wants with slow and gentle hands.

You’d known it was love with him; maybe not consciously, but you’d known it long before now. Love, filled with intensity and desire and longing, in its most vulnerable and fragile form -- pure, and blinding white.

Pink

The summer air wafted in through the open window in the kitchen, and you listened to Mrs. Weasley hum some Muggle song as she set the table for dessert. You placed the finishing touches on the lemon meringue pie you baked, special because it was George’s favourite and Mrs. Weasley had insisted.

You had to admit, he’d always had the outside exterior of a tough guy, but owning a business did absolute wonders for his confidence. You noticed the way he stood up a little straighter, smiled a little bigger, and most of all, just how much he gushed about all the plans you two would be able to act on, now that you were both making income of your own.

“Merlin’s beard, Y/N, you’ve absolutely knocked it out of the park with this pie, if I do say so myself.” Arthur’s praise was nothing short of wonderful; you felt the tips of your ears turn pink at his compliments. By the way Ron slouched back in his chair, looking rather chuffed indeed, you could tell he felt the same exact way. Especially when he reached for the last piece, but Hermione slapped his hand away.

“Oh my!” Molly yelped suddenly. You jumped in surprise in your seat. “Oh, Georgie dear, would you mind wandering into the field before dark? I’d love some wildflowers for the table,”

“Sure thing, mum.” George replied before turning to you and squeezing your hand. “Want to tag along?”

You said, “Of course” at the exact same time Ron said “I’ll come along too, I could use a good walk” and if you hadn’t been so focused on George’s tender gaze, you almost would’ve missed Fred silently hissing at Ron and Hermione slapping his hand yet again. “On second thought,” Ron swallowed thickly, “I’d better stay here and help you clean up, mum.”

“Atta boy, Ronniekins,” Molly said. To you and George, she continued, “You two better get going -- not long now before it turns dark!”

George stood and pulled you to your feet. “You coming, love?”

“I go where you go.”

About twenty minutes later, as the setting sun had blended with the light purples and pinks of the sky, you’d found yourself with a rather beautiful bouquet of wildflowers for Molly. You turned to George, who was leaning against the tree and smiling at you, and asked, “Shall we get going darling? Don’t want to be too late. I reckon your mum will come out here searching for us if we spend an evening among the stars.”

“Doesn’t sound like too bad of an idea, actually.” His grin deepened, and then he said, “you’re lucky I don’t have any pranks up my sleeve right now.”

You look up at the tree and recognized the place where he’d infuriated you all those long years ago. You rolled your eyes and shook your head before twirling in your dress. “I am lucky. I was able to get a new dress after the one you so lovingly ruined. Though I will admit -- I wasn’t all that big of a fan of those puffy sleeves. This one’s much more adult.”

George arched his eyebrow in surprise before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. “Oh yes it is.”

You slapped him playfully and pointed your finger at him. “Alright you prat, calm yourself, you’ll have to wait until we get back to our flat for any funny business.”

But then you realized, as George’s features turned from mischievous to genuine within the matter of seconds, that there was definitely more pressing matters than funny business on his mind.

And then he was telling you how he’d only teased you back then because he’d found you so bloody cute, and how he should’ve asked you to the Yule Ball and regretted every single day that he didn’t, and how he’d never met anyone who could play Quidditch quite as well as you, and how bloody happy he’d been when you’d kissed him that day in the Ravenclaw common room. And then knelt down and he asked it, the words you’d imagined since you were a little girl, strung together with such fondness and emotion and tenderness that you weren’t quite sure how you were standing upright.

You’d already begun to nod quickly through your tears before he finished, but would he really be George Weasley if he didn’t tease you, just a little? “Say yes,” he laughed, “say yes and marry me and be my wife for as long as you’ll have me.”

He slid the ring onto your finger and kissed you and picked you up and whirled you around in the field and held you gently in his arms as though you were a precious glass figurine and he was doing everything in his power to hold you delicately.

“Yes. I say yes.”

Black & White

You asked, When did you first know?

And he answered, I always knew.

You both ran back up the aisle, your white dress fluttering around your ankles, his black suit hugging the curves of his arms, and into the field and away from the party, momentarily, to celebrate your first moments as husband and wife in the place where he’d figured it all out.

He’d known since that afternoon when he’d handed you those yellow dandelions that he would bring you back here one day, to ask you to be his wife. He’d known, in the Ravenclaw common room when he gave you that purple pendant, still dangling from your neck, that one day he’d also give you a ring. He’d known, all those long years ago, that he wanted to marry you, and that you would say yes, when he’d finally ask.

And now, in front of your friends and family, he’d vowed to love you -- love in it’s purest and simplest form, love -- with all it’s sentiment and emotion and vulnerability. He vowed to love you and only you for the rest of his life.

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comfortmarvelimagines · 4 years

Text

You are Home, and Home is Safe

heyhey ! deciding to just get it over with and post this tonight (for those of you who don’t know what i’m talking about, a post explaining can be found here. side note, please be nice in my inbox, its been rough getting some of those comments). i am, however, going to continue to tag autistic!reader fics with #whenyoucantfindthequiet and #wycftq, so they’re easier to find. hope it’s what you’re after, nonnie, and i’m so so sorry it took so long !!

features : autistic!reader x mama!nat, lowkey asshole Tony Stark (it’s okay i didn’t make him really mean, just kinda well-meaning but misplaced/ mistimed)

warnings : uhhh i guess meltdowns, some self-injurious behaviour

Words are hard. Always have been, always will be.

You haven't always had a family. For years you were passed from foster home to foster home, with a consistent message: you were too much. Your needs were too high, your behaviour too confusing, your struggles too much to deal with. It got to a point where you began to question yourself, your diagnoses and trauma, wondering if it was all in your head or for attention like you were told over and over.

That changed when you met Nat.

It wasn’t immediate of course. There was the initial period of complete and total distrust, of another stranger whose life you were thrust into the middle of, floundering and drowning with no support. There was shutdown after shutdown. The trauma of being ignored and punished for meltdowns meant that you’d learned to internalise. You barely ate, and didn’t speak. But Nat met you where you were, unwaveringly. Was always calm, composed, voice level. Kept food out on the kitchen bench at all times, figuring out your safe foods and keeping them stocked. Realised you liked small enclosed spaces and stocked your bedroom with beanbags, pillows, stuffies and blankets, a permanent blanket fort taking up residence in the living space. Perhaps the most wonderful was her commitment to listening to you, with or without words. The superspy was quick to recognise your shutdown states from body language alone and responded quickly, with two option questions and the request to tap the hand of the answer you wanted.

You almost wanted to feel embarrassed, humiliated, of the accommodations she made so immediately. But she always spoke to you conversationally and never in an infantilizing tone, like so many before her, and the trust you held for her grew. It didn’t always grow in a way that you felt was positive, though. As weeks passed you felt your shutdowns turn into meltdowns and silence into frustrated screams. You didn’t want to hurt her. You didn’t want to feel ungrateful or angry or like any of this was on purpose but somehow she knew. As she held you close after each one she reminded you that your body was unlearning trauma, that you were safe, that you were loved so fully and unconditionally and nothing, including meltdowns, would change that. The way she held you felt like home.

But no one else was like Nat. Social workers were condescending, school was overwhelming, nowhere was safe. So you stuck to Nat. It wasn’t long after you were placed with her that she pulled you out of school, realising that they were doing more harm than good, and she was always there for homeschool. Not looking over your shoulder, but present. You could hear her humming through the walls, or swearing as she dropped a spoon into a pot of soup on the stove again, and it was comforting. It wasn’t the apartment that was home, per say, but having a parent made it feel like one. If she went to the grocery store or a walk in the park you came with, ear defenders on, clinging to her sleeve for safety. She told you that she loved you a million times a day, until one day you said it back.

Words came easier after that. Simple things, like asking what’s for breakfast, became routine. It wasn’t just Nat softly illuminating the cramped space with hummed melodies and occasionally vulgar language but you as well, asking for help with homework or explaining a meme. It felt normal, comfortable, okay. The outside world was too much, but inside your home, the anxiety all but melted from your throat.

You never wanted to leave safety. You wanted to feel it all the time. It was warm and sweet and heavy but in a calm way, like a weighted blanket sinking into your joints. It started as a one-time-thing, after a particularly rough meltdown, but you started sleeping in Nat’s bed. It just felt… right. The panic that set in when Nat left the room and you didn’t know where she was going or what she was doing or if she was ever going to come back was so all-consuming and nauseating that going to sleep alone, in another room, unable to hear her was torturous. What if she abandoned you, gone in the night, social worker beckoning you on to the next uncaring couple, crowded foster family or group home? This way, when you woke at 2am from a nightmare, the first thing you heard was her even breathing. Home. Safe.

***

Tony Stark was something else. Nat eventually started to transition back to work, and, as being homeschooled permitted, brought you with her. Even in classified meetings where you weren’t allowed in you sat in corridors and made sure you could see her red braid through the frosted glass, glancing up from your laptop every few seconds to make sure she didn’t disappear while you wrote your English critique. The rest of Nat’s colleagues (it felt too weird to just casually refer to them as the Avengers and co) didn’t mention your presence, at least in front of you; it was as if they didn’t know what to say or how to say it. Not that you’d say anything back. Outside of the safety of home it was like the anxiety disconnected your brain from your throat, anything you wanted to say cut off before it reached your tongue. It was frustrating. The first few days ended in meltdowns when you reached the apartment and it felt weird and strange and almost like you were two different people but an all-round embarrassment of a child. It was weeks before things settled into a routine and a pattern of acknowledged non-acknowledgement. A pattern Stark ignored.

You were sitting at the island bench in the communal kitchen, drinking chocolate milk and typing out an assignment, when you heard both Nat and Tony heading down the hall towards you. They’d just come out of a meeting, you sitting watch outside the whole time, and Nat had sent you to the kitchen to wait for her while she headed upstairs with Tony to drop off some paperwork to an intern. You hadn’t thought much of it. Sure, you didn’t like being away from Nat at all, but if she was clear in where she was going and how long she was going for (provided it was only a short period), you did okay. It was okay, until you heard the discussion from down the hall.

“Damn, Nat, is that the longest you’ve been away from the kid?”

“No.”

“C’mon, Nat. I know the kid’s been through some shit, but this isn’t healthy. For either of you. What happens if you can’t get out of the mission next time? They’re gonna have to be away from you at some point. You can’t be in this line of work with a barnacle of a kid.”

You’d heard enough. As the topic changed and they entered the kitchen, you didn’t look up from your laptop in greeting.

***

Too much. Too clingy. Too anxious, too needy, too autistic, too much. You needed separation. Give Nat space. Of course she needed to work. The world needed her, and they didn’t need you tagging along. When you got home that night, you headed straight to your room. Buried yourself in the mountain of blankets and stuffies and waited until Nat came to check on you, facing the wall, feigning sleep. You doubt you fooled the former spy but nonetheless, she left you be, a whispered “I love you” hanging in the air as she creaked the door close behind her.

It was seconds before you broke. It felt like choking. All of the fear that was slowly reduced to an ebbing tide through months of living in a caring environment crashed on you like the mother of all tsunamis, saltwater running down your cheeks and into your mouth as if smothering all the words you wished you could scream. It lasted for hours and hours and it was relentless, painful, as if your heart was being ripped out and an empty throbbing numbness was expanding in its place. You were too much. Too much. Too much.

Nat stood outside your door at the time when she’d usually be gently waking you up, watching you unfurl and stretch yourself out of the cocoon of blankets you slept in every night. She knew something was wrong from lunch yesterday, and your isolation from her was concerning. She figured you needed space, but the sleep she knew was an act sat at the back of her mind and bugged her all night long. Even with that nagging suspicion that something was up, nothing prepared her for the way her heart sank when she came in and saw your body curled up, eyes red and barely open from exhaustion, pillow and face damp from tears.

She was at your side in seconds. Your resolve to cut yourself off melted at the sight of her open arms, safe, warm, home. And immediately your body melted. Hands running through your hair, the promise that you were safe, loved, worthy of support, the request to “tell me next time, please, you don’t need to deal with this on your own.”

For some reason, those were the words that broke out the first sounding sob in the 12 hours of silent crying. It was so loud and gut-wrenching and it almost didn’t feel like it came from you at all and it was such a weird feeling, and all of a sudden you were scratching at your arms to try and re-embody yourself and Nat was breathing calmly and deeply and gently rubbing your shoulders until you found yourself easing back into your physicality.

“Did you hear what Stark said yesterday?”

And just like that she figured it out, of course she did, because she’s a trained spy and that’s her job, to put the pieces together and slot the narrative into place. And god, were you grateful, because you couldn’t see yourself stringing sentences together to accuse none other than Iron Man himself of triggering waves of hurt just by stating what you’d convinced yourself was the truth. She was quick to reassure. You are loved, you are wanted, you are always welcome and will always be her child and what you need will always come first. The warm safety settled itself in your belly and you let the tiredness wash over you, drifting on a life raft of whispered Russian lullabies and Nat’s hand rubbing circles on your back. At peace.

Of course, you’d never tell Nat, but hearing her whisper-yell at Tony over the phone for being an insensitive dick was possibly one of the best moments of your life.

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iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years

Text

The Power of Touch

Request: Hi! I'd like to request a oneshot for Harry (I just love him so much) where him and the reader have this soulmate bond that makes the pain on Harry's scar go away with the reader's touch, please I love your writing and I'm sure you'll do this concept justice!❤️❤️❤️

A/N: I love Harry too, nonnie. He’s one of my favourites to write for so request him as much as you want!! Thank you for sending me your request and trusting me with it! I hope you like it! I hope I've done your request justice! I do enjoy writing Soulmate AUs and finding new ways to approach them. I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: mentions of pain and food, some swearing, passing out - but there's some really cute fluff at the end I promise!! I don’t just write angst!!!

Word count: 2.1k

In the muggle world, the idea of soulmates is very much a fairy tale whispered to little girls and boys before promises of sweet dreams. The idea, though, follows muggles to adulthood; always wondering whether there was someone out there perfectly made for them.

In the wizarding world, the magic of soulmates is very real. Young witches and wizards hang onto the tales of their parents, of their grandparents who had found their soulmate in the other.

When asked repeatedly by curious minds – how did you know? How will I know? The response was always the same: “They took away my pain.”

The sign of the soulmate bond between witches and wizards manifested itself through pain. They would feel their soulmate’s pain but could also relieve pain too. Feeling the pain of your soulmate was a marker of being ready to meet your soulmate.

But here’s the catch: to find relief from their pain, you have to be touching your soulmate.

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

Harry Potter was famously known across the wizarding community as The Boy Who Lived. He had come out his parent’s cold-blooded murder relatively unscathed. His only injury being a scar marring the right side of his forehead, perfectly shaped like a lightning bolt – or for the more morbid, the wand movement of the Killing Curse.

The scar marking his forehead was the remnants of the use of a forbidden curse.

The pain of the scar was always there; simmering under the surface of his skin like a deep ache. It only flared to a white-hot pain when the Dark Lord was nearby.

Harry was experiencing the increasing pain more often now.

Harry felt awful for his soulmate; not only would they have to live a target on their back the moment the connection was made, and the bond accepted, but they’re having to cope with the pain from his scar as well as numerous other injuries he’s received over the years.

In comparison to him, his soulmate isn’t hurt often. Which in the beginning had Harry panicking, thinking he wasn’t ready to meet his soulmate or worse, he didn’t have one. It was rare for a witch or a wizard not to have a soulmate, but it happened, and it would be Harry’s luck for him not to have one.

Then he felt it; a sharp pain in right hip as if his soulmate had walked into the edge of a table. The ache lasted for an hour and a bruise bloomed overnight. Harry didn’t like to admit it but he poked the bruise in disbelief at the very fact of his soulmate existing.

His first priority for when he met was to apologise for all the pain you had suffered so far. His second priority was to take you out to Hogsmeade, to get to know you better.

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

Your soulmate suffered with migraines.

They had to. Nothing else could explain the blinding pain you felt in the right side of your forehead that most of time had you curled up in your dorm room with the curtains to your bed closed tightly to keep the light out.

You had been experiencing your soulmate’s pain for over a year now. You were more than ready to meet them, if only to rant at them over the pain they caused you. The migraines were the start of it but then there were the dull aches of bruises and sharp pains of cuts.

A lesson on safety was your second priority if and when you met your soulmate.

Your first priority was to ensure that they wouldn’t be this hurt again.

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

Your head had felt fuzzy all day. As if it wasn’t quite working to its full potential; that there was something going on.

It had been a challenge at breakfast to eat anything; the increasing pain in your head making you too nauseous to eat a single bite. Your friend, Jenny, urged you to go back to bed – to spend the day resting. You wave off her protests, stating that you felt fine enough to go to class – you would feel better by lunch, you promise.

You steadily feel worse throughout the morning, but you put on a brave face; trying not to wince too much at loud sounds and bright lights. Jenny becomes increasingly concerned through each lesson and tells you multiple times to go back to bed, that she would grab any work you miss. You decline each time; you could make it to lunch. You wouldn’t feel this bad by lunch.

Transfiguration, luckily, is a study lesson in preparation for your upcoming OWLs. You sigh in relief at the calming environment in the classroom but despite that, the pain doesn’t lessen. Instead it increases to a steady pulse that travels from the right side of your forehead to the centre. You fight the wave of dizziness washing over you, but you know one thing.

You aren’t going to make it to lunch.

The ringing in your ears is the first sign that you’re about to collapse; the black spots dancing across your vision is the second sign. You weakly raise your hand; an attempt to tell Professor McGonagall that you didn’t feel too good and could you please go see Madame Pomfrey.

All you hear before you collapse is Professor McGonagall’s shout.

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

Across the school, in a different study session, Harry grabs at his forehead hissing at the pain running through his head like a white-hot poker.

The pain had been there all day; making his mind fuzzy and distracting him from lessons and conversations but he was used to it. His scar always hurt but it was always manageable; always able to distract himself from its pain.

He knew what the pain meant; that the Dark Lord was trying to find him, trying to infiltrate his mind. It had never hurt this much though. He bites his lip as he thinks of his soulmate, distantly wondering what you would be feeling in this very moment.

The last thing he hears before he collapses are the shouts from Ron and Hermione.

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

You come too as Jenny lays you on the hospital bed. “Madame Pomfrey,” She calls, grabbing her attention, “(Y/N) collapsed in Transfiguration.”

Madame Pomfrey rushes over to your bed, checking your forehead for a temperature and shining her wand in your eyes. She tuts as you flinch away from the light. She dismisses Jenny before bustling to one of her cupboards for a pain potion for you, muttering something about this being her second case of students passing out today and she hoped it was her last. The last thing Madame Pomfrey wanted for mass fainting to spread through the school.

Hermione and Ron both watched you be carried in; not fully conscious but moaning in pain. Hermione’s eyes flicker between your bed and Harrys’ bed where you both holds hands to your forehead. Harry for his scar. You seemingly for a headache.

Hermione gasps as she makes the connection; they don’t call her the brightest witch of her age for nothing. She runs her eyes over Harry, checking over him and deciding that he’s well enough with Ron for her to step away for a minute.

She walks over to your bed, asking quietly, “Where exactly is your pain, (Y/N)?”

You point to the right side of your forehead; right where Harry’s scar placement is. “Ron,” Hermione calls, voice wavering somewhat, “I need to talk to you for a minute.”

Ron frowns, not wanting to leave Harry in this much pain but something in Hermione’s face has him going to her side without much of a second thought. They talk in whispers; Hermione gestures between the beds, Ron’s face turns incredulous as he looks you over – at the hand held to your forehead as if the pressure will stop the pain.

It clicks with you a moment later. Their expressions; the placement of your pain.

It was him.

He was your soulmate.

Harry Potter was your soulmate.

You pull yourself into sitting position, ignoring the wave of dizziness and nausea washing over you. Throwing your legs over the side of the hospital bed, you grit your teeth as you push yourself, so you’re stood up.

Ron comes to your side, asking if you need any help. You manage a small nod before gripping his arm for dear life. Ron leads you to Harry’s bed where he’s almost whimpering with the pain in his head.

Your heart breaks slightly at the sight of him tensed up, eyes screwed up in pain.

You flex your fingers before gently placing them on Harry’s head.

You sag at the immediate relief from the pain in your head, propping yourself up against Harry’s bed. His body relaxes into the bed, his breathing becoming more even.

“You’re-” Harry starts, blinking rapidly, swallowing, “You’re my soulmate.”

You smile down at him, enjoying the lack of pain for the moment, “I guess I am.”

Harry hums, “You’re hand feels nice.”

“I’m glad it does,” You drawl, “It’s nice not to be in pain.”

Harry frowns, sorrow reflected in his eyes, “I’m sorry about that. It’s my scar.”

“I know,” You say softly, running your hand through his messy hair in comfort, “At least we know how to stop it now.”

Harry nods, “I wonder why it works though; I didn’t think anything worked on curse scars.”

You frown, thinking back to your lesson on curses and their scars in Defence Against the Dark Arts, “Neither did I actually.”

“I have a theory,” Hermione pipes from her spot at the bottom of the bed where she’s watching the scene unfold in front of her, “Your scar comes from a place of hate. He isn’t able to feel love. The magic of the soulmate bond is larger than the dark magic that made your scar.”

“That makes a lot of sense.” You state, smiling at the brunette, “Thank you, Hermione.”

She shrugs, “It’ll be nice to have another girl in the group. As much as I like Quidditch, there’s only so much of it I can take.”

You smile at her, “I look forward to it.”

Hermione nods, turning to Ron whispering that they should leave now to let Harry and his soulmate have some peace. Harry’s in safe hands now. They both smile at you as they leave the hospital wing; happy that Harry’s found his soulmate.

Your attention falls back to Harry as he shuffles along the bed, making room for you. “If you think you’re going far, think again.”

You laugh softly, hopping onto the bed next to him, moving your hand from his forehead to hold his hand in yours. “How’s the pain now?” You quietly ask him.

Harry hums, knocking his foot against yours, “A lot better now. How’s yours?”

“Good. I’m feeling a lot better too.” You reply, knocking his foot with yours in retaliation.

You’re both quiet for a moment; enjoying the new painless existence. You bite your lip in response to the feeling of elation growing inside you; you had a soulmate and it was Harry Potter. You remember the promise you made to yourself when you first started to feel his pain over a year ago: you were going to try your very best that he would never feel this pain again, and if he did, you would always be there to lessen it.

Harry’s thumb rubs comforting circles over the back of your hand. You hum at the feeling of it; not knowing something could feel so good.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, repeating his words from earlier, as if one apology was not nearly enough.

“What for?” You ask, puzzled.

“All the pain. I knew my soulmate would have to deal with a lot, so I want to apologise.”

You grip his hand tighter as if trying to covey your emotions through your touch, “It’s okay. At least we know we can stop the pain now.”

Harry smiles, “I don’t think I’ll be letting you out my sight now that I know who you are and that we don’t need to be in pain.”

You shuffle closer to him, if that’s at all possible on the small hospital bed. “I like the sound of that.” You murmur, “I don’t think I’ll be letting you out of my sight either; you have a knack for landing yourself in trouble.”

He laughs, “You’re right, I do.” He pauses, “I know that we’re soulmates, but I’d like to do this properly. Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?” He asks, a light blush dusting his cheeks.

“I’d love to.” You answer; savouring the smile that breaks across his face.

You let your head fall to his shoulder, shuffling into a comfier position. Harry becomes slightly brazen as he kisses the side of your head before putting his head on top of yours. For now, it was pure bliss to enjoy a painless moment.

The power of a simple touch could heal so much.

*************

General (HP) taglist: @the-hufflefluffwriter @obsessedwithrandomthings @kalimagik @summer-writes @lupins-sweater @slytherinprincess03 @mischiefsemimanaged @soleil-amaryllis @masterofthedarkness @bforbroadway @chaotic-fae-queen @peachesandpinks @nebulablakemurphy @haphazardhufflepuff @siriusly-addicted-to-writing @firewhisky-kisses @deafgirltingz @kylosleftbuttcheek @heloisedaphnebrightmore @harrypotter289 @sprvpti @accio-rogers @potterverseimagine @figlia--della--luna @angelinathebook @dreamer821

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chvoswxtch · 1 year

Note

May I request a drink? I have never done this before so I’m scared. 🥺 A margarita on the rocks with Javi. I recently have been addicted to listening to TS’s Folklore album, especially Exile.

Congratulations on 2k. You are an absolute amazing writer. Keep on doing all the amazing things.

hi nonnie!

welcome to the bar! please don't be scared. this is a safe space for all.

thank you so much for stopping by and making a request! i was hoping someone would order javi so i could play around with him. i hope you enjoy! cheers! 🥂

as a reminder: margarita on the rocks means it's spicy (minors dni)!

blurb below the cut

exile

i think i’ve seen this film before, and i didn’t like the ending

You both knew exactly how this would end. It would fall apart the way it had every other time. It was always great in the beginning, constructing a gilded house of cards together, until one of you, usually him, sent it tumbling down to scattered pieces with either too much accidental force or intentional self-destruction.

“You’re breaking my fucking heart, baby.”

“You broke mine first, Javi.”

He knew you were right. It was always his fault. He wanted you, God did he want you, and for a while, he could ignore that little voice in the back of his head telling him he wasn’t good enough for you. He could remember to call to check in and ask how your day was. He could show up at your door on a Wednesday afternoon with a bouquet of flowers he saw in your favorite color that reminded him of you. He could slow dance with you in your kitchen under the spotlight of the moon to only the music playing in your hearts. For a little while, he could pretend.

But then reality would creep in. Javi would get so wrapped up in his job that you wouldn’t hear from him for days. He was never particularly good at expressing anything but anger, so he could never explain how he really felt. He either used the cowardly excuse that his life was too dangerous for you to be involved in, or he’d be a vindictive asshole on purpose to make you resent him, swearing to himself it was for the best. He’d let you go, and he wouldn’t chase after you.

Instead he’d drown his heart at the bar and lose himself in whatever woman he could find. But it didn’t matter how many women he ran through, because everytime he was inside someone, the only face he saw was yours. He wouldn’t call, but he kept tabs on you, and the second he even thought you were attempting to move on from him, he’d start the vicious cycle all over again. Javi would show up at your door with those remorseful eyes you couldn’t ever find the strength to slam your door shut on, and he’d get on his knees and beg for your forgiveness, spew an apology and declaration of love that could put the world’s greatest love songs and sonnets to shame, and seal his apology with a passionate kiss and another empty promise of change.

“You can’t actually stand here and tell me that you love him.”

“How can I, Javi? How am I ever supposed to even try to fall in love with someone else if you won’t let me? This isn’t fair to me. Everytime we break up, you go and fuck every woman within a five mile radius and I’m supposed to just be okay with that, but when I go on a date, you’re breaking my door down-”

“It’s different. I’m not taking them on dates because they don’t mean anything. They’re nameless, faceless, nothing.”

“That doesn’t make it hurt any less, Javier.”

He hates it when you use his full name, because then he knows he fucked up. He hates hearing the break in your voice. He hates when you look away from him to hide your teary eyes because you don’t want him to see you cry. Not again. He hates making you cry.

“Mi amor. Por favor, no llores. Tu cara es demasiado hermosa para arruinarse con lágrimas.”

(My love. Please, don’t cry. Your face is too beautiful to be ruined with tears.)

Javi loves you. More than he’s ever loved anyone. By some miracle or the grace of God, you love him back, no matter how many times he returns your heart shattered in his hands. So he shows you how much he loves you and needs you, and how fucking sorry he is the only way he really knows how to express.

He pulls you into his arms and captures your lips in a deep kiss, pouring every ounce of love he feels into your mouth, gripping onto your face gently to keep you in place so that you can’t walk away from him. He gets on his knees and uses his tongue to beg for forgiveness and redemption at the altar between your thighs. Javi fucks you slowly and deeply into that magical spot of time between midnight and twilight where everything is still and anything seems possible. He holds your hand above your head as you surrender your body to him. He catches a glimpse of heaven inside you and plants a seed, wondering if this one will take and give you the opportunity to try to grow something else together.

Javi drips sweet nothings and praise into your ear like honey, nuzzling affection into your neck and promises of ‘it’ll be different this time’ are plastered to your lips.

“Tienes mi corazón. Siempre lo has hecho. Quítame la vida también. Tómalo todo.”

(You have my heart. You always have. Take my life too. Take it all.)

Maybe it will be different this time. Maybe there will be a different ending.

Maybe it’ll be a happy one.

#javier peña #javier peña x you #javier peña x y/n #javier peña x reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña x fem!reader #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña blurb #javier peña request #javier peña smut #court's 2k follower celebration #court's 2k friends celebration

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nameless-shrimp · 3 years

Text

BEST FRIENDS TO LOVERS || SATORU GOJO

Request: i was wondering if i could request a best friend to lovers with gojo? completely up to you regarding if it’s a one shot or headcanon! i don’t have anything too specific besides that! maybe some angst to comfort bc i love to make my heart ache a little.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x GN!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sexual content (close friends to FWB to lovers).

Type: Headcanons / small one-shots

Notes: Nonnie, you love to make my heart warm with this. Writing Gojo Satoru... well, it is truly my specialty, hehehe. I hope you like this one! This is actually pretty bad in my opinion but I hope you like it nonetheless!

Satoru would consistently ask to get into phone calls with you whenever he had the free time to do so, and that even meant when both of you were students together at Jujutsu High. It was difficult having to have him cling onto you but you liked it deep down.

Satoru purposefully left missions early or avoided meeting with Yaga-sensei in order to take most of the time to train with you. It always led to him beating you and you scolding him for going too hard on you but without a doubt, he’d loved every bit of training and bickering you’d gnaw at him.

Most of the time, there was a lot of sexual tension between the both of you. Clearly, everyone saw it; Utahime found annoyance and disgust with it though she did make a bet with Suguru about whether you and Satoru would have slept yet.

The consistent flirting that Satoru would act upon you and the physical gestures of him throwing his arm over your shoulder and the tickles he’d give on the back of your neck was an obvious sign he was into you—or really, he just loved to annoy the shit out of you.

“You’re coming home early tonight, right? Let’s hang out or maybe I should sleepover.”

“For once in your damn life, Satoru, please be quiet.”

Satoru would take you out on trips—or well, you thought they were dates, but he said that both of you were simply hanging out. Sometimes it’d be a trip to the bakery and having bubble tea while both of you talk about your day or a drive through the city, which was peaceful.

It didn’t take long for you to realize that you were falling for your best friend. He was witty but charming all at once. You hated him yet you loved him as a close friend and you were falling in love with him now. The moment he looked at you and your hands almost touched while you were both gazing up at the stars as he talked about how exhausted he was being the strongest and all that, you were falling hard.

Truth be told, you loved his annoyance. It was too much, sometimes, but as the both of you got stronger—in reality, this meant to you getting a little bit stronger but he was always superior to you—and more mature as months went on, you had grown fond of his annoyance. The days where he didn’t pester you with text messages and phone calls since he’d be out on trips overseas or start teaching as a sensei for Jujutsu Tech made it a bit unbearable and lonely sometimes.

The more time that Satoru had to take care of for himself, he became bolder yet he managed to be so quiet at the same time. Sure, he always fooled around with you, maybe teasing you in front of Principal Yaga (which was embarrassing to have your old sensei and now principal watch these scenes unfold), but it always seemed as if he was hiding secrets.

Every time you asked him what was wrong and you always encouraged him to come to you, he’d do so, but it wasn’t long until both of you actually started sleeping with one another. And, yeah, he was really good in bed, but when time progressed, he became softer and gentler with his touches.

Whenever you asked him why it always seemed like he was hiding something, he’d tell you that you were overreacting and that you needed to not overthink things. But Satoru was your best friend for so long, and after all, it was difficult to not see right through your best friend.

When you explained to Satoru that you wanted to stop all of this curse exorcising and wanted to live a ‘normal life, he didn’t argue with you. Although, this made both of you a bit distant from each other. It was hard at first, but Satoru didn’t like the idea of Nanami consistently giving you the most company, even though you were both working together now.

There was a time where Satoru ignored you for a good amount of time. He didn’t answer your texts or even your phone calls, he didn’t mean to hurt you in this sense, though he found himself falling for you harder as well too. But he couldn’t ruin the friendship you both had; the strong connection you shared with him.

Satoru had to admit to himself that he loved the sex, yeah, but he loved being able to be around you. They were the only moments when he could have the option to kiss you, hug you tightly with so much affection in his heart, and talk about how beautiful you were even if it meant that you’d smack him on the face afterward because you were just always so playful and that’s how you were.

──── ⋅♡⋅ ────

It was difficult to maintain a close friendship with Satoru.

Not because he was outrageously witty and flamboyant with his high and mighty powers, but it was more so that you were falling hard for your best friend. Whom you had grown up together with at the same school; the same one who would knock you down during every bit of training that you’d get, and you’d scold him for offering such a weird demand since you knew every time he requested to train with you, Satoru would easily win every time.

When he became a teacher and you had recently quit Jujutsu Tech, you decided to work with one of his other friends, which was Nanami Kento. However, his job was absolutely draining, but it definitely beat the consistent outings of exorcising curses and you preferred to live a life as normal as possible without having to put yourself on the line.

During work, as of at that moment, your feelings were soaring at the sight of Satoru’s name popping up on his phone. Nanami consistently lectured you with the tough personality he had, claiming you could easily find someone more suitable for your tastes, but he always let it go.

“Enough being a child,” Nanami scolded you, eyes scanning through the newspaper in his hands. How could he find the old articles to be so fascinating? “Tell Satoru how you feel.”

“Or what?” You cocked a brow before taking a sip of your coffee. “You’ll tell him yourself?”

“I’m not in elementary school. Both of you are adults here, or at least, I thought,” he sighed, shaking his head. “I am tired of him texting me of your whereabouts. It has gotten to the point where I had to block his number but I couldn’t due to the higher ups’ and their needs of exorcising curses.”

“Sounds like a real bummer for you.”

“You seriously have no idea,” he responded, avoiding eye contact before turning a page of his newspaper. “Now tell him that you have feelings for him.”

“Nanami,” you sighed, placing your cup of coffee on the table in front of you. Both of you were on your lunch breaks, which ironically, most of the time you both decide to take it together so you wouldn’t feel too lonely. “You make it sound so easy.”

“You’re the one making it difficult.” He huffed.

“Come on,” you shook your head, placing your hands out in frustration. “How do I approach it?”

“Y/N, I am not going to answer that question since you already know the answer to it.”

“Nanami.”

“Lunch break is almost over,” Nanami quipped, checking his watch.

You blinked at him. “It has only been like ten minutes.”

“It’s mentally over for me,” Nanami spoke before standing up and making his way to the door.

You furrowed your eyebrows at the tall man who was casually making his exit from the conversation you were both sharing. “Hey—Nanami, you ass! I thought we were supposed to be helping each other!”

“Language, Y/N, we are working,” he shook his head before slamming the wooden door.

“We are on break!”

──── ⋅♡⋅ ────

Satoru continued to drag on this act where it became the usual of seeing each other, having casual small talk, have sex, and then he’d be off the next day. The idea of that strong friendship slowly became a ‘friends with benefits’, and then, it hurt you more than you imagined.

At one point, Satoru got lectured by Nanami over the phone about you and him being complete children and it was about time to confess his feelings—or vice versa, or really, both in this sense—because he couldn’t stand your constant worries at work. (Really though, Nanami just cared for you, and he was tired of seeing you sulk in pain).

So, finally, Satoru decided it was time to open up about how he felt.

When Satoru asked you to see him at his place or have him go over to yours, it didn’t take long for him to flash over to where you were and have both of you meet. It was difficult, seeing him the way that he was, and he looked lost in his eyes though they were hidden beneath the blindfold that he wore.

The night was still young, streetlights were flickering, and the wind was chilly. Both of you stared at each other in silence before both of you had decided to open your mouths at the same time and speak simultaneously.

“I need to tell you something.”

Both of you spoke, and before you knew it, you both let out a loud, boisterous laugh that echoed throughout the park that you met up Satoru. It was charming, it was an enjoyable moment and you felt your knees weakened at the thought of you having that small spark of connection together.

It made your heart flutter, but the time was now or never.

“So,” Satoru grinned, almost as if he grew a large amount of confidence not too long ago. “Shall I go first or should you?”

“I mean,” you gritted your teeth, fighting back the nervous ticks. (But you gave in and then fidgeted with your hands anyways. God, this was harder than expected). “I don’t know where to start.”

“Neither do I,” Satoru’s grin faded into a soft smile before he took a few steps closer to you.

His smile began to fade which made your heart drop quickly; there must’ve been something cold or terrible he had to say. The look Satoru made was not something you enjoyed seeing, and nonetheless, you were a subject to the expression on his face. Overall, this was difficult to witness, and this didn’t help the shakiness of your hands.

“What we’re doing…” his voice trailed off as he tilted his head. And—why do the cute gestures have to be so heartwarming in a serious atmosphere like this? It was illegal for him to act this way. Definitely.

“You mean… the sex?” You questioned; you knew the answer. Of course, you did. But you wanted to clarify anyways.

“I don’t think we can keep it going, Y/N.”

And—this was it. The moment of truth. You felt your face become heavy, and not the way that you’d hoped for. “I mean, I get it. We are all gonna be with someone and fall in love and well, yeah, you get it.”

“I don’t think you get it,” Satoru responded as he untied the back of his blindfold.

Within a matter of seconds, his blindfold fell to his hands and his bright, blue eyes were charming its way to your gaze. A smile grew on his face and he cupped his hands on your cheeks, letting his thumbs flutter over your blush.

“W-What do you mean?” You asked, suddenly forgetting how to breathe at his sudden touch.

“I like you a lot,” Satoru smiled. “I always have, ever since we were young and dumb and well, I guess we are still pretty young and du—”

You couldn’t help but flick his forehead for that, completely ruining the moment.

Satoru grunted, not minding that he completely turned off his Infinity for that. “Okay, okay. But Y/N, I like you. A lot. And I seriously do. I’ve fallen for you pretty fucking hard.”

You didn’t expect yourself to fall into his arms, inhaling the scent of his cologne and before he even had the chance to say something at your immediate reaction, you placed a kiss on his lips, feeling that strong connection build-up. It wasn’t so empty anymore; it had more sense to you to act this way once the feelings had suddenly been returned, and although, you hadn’t opened up about how you felt, the action said a lot more than it needed.

You felt him smile against the kiss and then to your surprise, he tightened his grip on you and held you up in the air, allowing yourself to laugh out loud like a happy child, and the audible sound coming out of your mouth was heartwarming to him. He missed hearing that laugh; only he could make you laugh so hard to the point where you knew you’d wanna hit him for being annoying yet you loved it at the same time. And—all in all, your heart couldn’t take anymore.

“I like you too,” you chuckled as he finally set you down and both of your foreheads met. “I like you a lot. I always have to.”

“How could you not?” Satoru cheekily grinned before you raised your hand up to smack him. “I—hey, am I wrong? I did have a feeling you have always liked me.”

You ended up smacking him anyways.

And, well, no. He wasn’t wrong.

#gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagines #gojo satoru headcanons #shrimp hc #shrimp os #jjk imagines #gojo satoru

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farfarawaygirl · 2 years

Note

hi, this is just to start a conversation and in no way I’m saying that one opinion is wrong or whatever, we all entitled to have one.

That being said I do want to start with I enjoyed the last episode, I had my hopes low because of the poorly written this season, children abuse will always be hard to portray but as a survivor of it, I really love the way the show did it. Yes it wasn’t perfect but neither real life, I see comments about lucy not being supportive, and I can see why they think that but I didn’t see it like that, she was in an incredible uncomfortable position, imagine doing your work when your partner is going about his abusive childhood with his sister and they put you in the middle, I don’t support Genny actions in this episode but I can see where she is coming from, she was desperate and alone, and let’s be honest if Tim didn’t want lucy there she would have made her go, but he was comfortable with her, he said the horrible things his father did to him and as a child of abuse that is huge. And finally the Tim test line, Her saying, “Tim test.” out loud, was her piecing things together. We’re all aware that Lucy talks things out when she's thinking, it was obviously an accident that she said it out loud, It was literally a “oh that’s why he does that” realization, yea I can see why this line has so many negative takes and that is because of the poor writing, but personally I didn’t see it like she was mocking him. And I really enjoyed the last scene, Lucy didn’t even tell Tim to set aside his trauma to support his sister, though. She specifically said they should support each other. Not “Tim ignore what happened to you & help your sister” but rather “you both went through some shit so help each other deal with it together not alone”.

And this is the last one I swear but I was really pissed off that a white man (Nolan) had to control the emotions of a Latina woman (angela) I was deeply offended with that like they are willing to sacrifice other characters to lift Nolan, the white savior and I’m so sick of it. Sorry for the rant, hope you having a nice day!

Nonny,

We are in agreement on that the show is willing to sideline, or vilify, or assassinate the character of any WOC, to further the plot that Nolan can do no wrong. Which has been an issue for a while. The moment I think it went to far for me (this season) was when Lucy somehow 'missed' the tripwire, and Nolan swooped in and reprimanded her. 😬

I know some people love John Nolan. Or they love Nathan Fillion and can't quite separate the two. I would like Nolan a whole lot more if he had a single flaw. Instead he teaches detectives, has Tim's endorsement, and craps gold bars.

We both agree the writing this season has been uneven.

You are right, no one opinion is fully right. My feelings around the Tim and Lucy off it all this last episode are very different than yours. I wrote about my feelings here - which in no way are meant to invalidate your experience as a survivor of abuse. In fact, I want to tell you that you would have unique insight into this! I was especially glad to see you write survivor, that is what you are. And you have the grace and kindness to start a conversation (with me!) about that tough topic.

I know that no reaction to disclosure of this topic can be perfect, but I do wish media was more gentle with it. I hope there is some more kindness next episode.

Thank you for this ask! For you thoughts, and for the conversation! 😉

#emma shouts into the void #be critical of the media you consume #ask emma #the rookie #john nolan

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crimsonrae · 4 years

Note

Oh, I am excited then! May I please request a Captain Syverson or Clark Kent/Femme! Reader oneshot where it's the reader's birthday, but she doesn't tell Sy/Clark because she doesn't celebrate/forgets and they find out and do something for her? Maybe a surprise dinner or something? Thank you so much, darling!!

Hey Nonnie,

As requested a birthday fic with Mr. Kent. Fluff fic - I hope you like it.

Clark KentxReader

Falling, Flying

Happy Birthday!

You sighed wearily as you eyed the balloon decorated card from the florist. A beautifully arranged bouquet of sunflowers and chrysanthemums rested on your desk. Admittedly, the amber and wine tones were striking and brought a brightness to your office that was usually lacking, but it was also like having a bright neon sign to remind you of a day that you usually wanted to ignore.

This was the problem with having with life-long friends... they liked to torture you.

You chucked the card into your trash and moved the flowers to the window. You’d text Maria later to call her an asshole and thank her for the little gift.

“Hey, nice flowers.”

Your butt had barely touched your desk chair. Biting back another sigh, you glanced up to see Lombard loitering in your doorway, “Thanks... Did you have that election article for me?”

“Y/N, it’s all work and no play with you.” Lombard complained loftily as he leaned against the threshold.

You shook your head, ignoring him as you logged into your computer. Your fingers clacked hard at the keyboard when he didn’t disappear nor answer your question. He stood like a creepy grotesque and it only took another minute of stunted silence before you broke.

“Lombard, what do you want?” He grinned victoriously while you threw a mocking scowl at him, “Article?”

He sauntered forward and dropped into the chair before your desk, “So, what are the flowers for? Did Smallville screw up? Apology flowers? Or an anniversary? Don’t let Lois see if it’s the second, cuzzz I don’t think it’s been quite a year since they’ve broken up.”

You rolled your eyes and grumbled under your breath about reporters. Never mind that you used to work as one, editing was more in your comfort zone anyway. You and Clark had only managed to date for two weeks before the office found out.

Bloodhounds – every single one of them.

Including your boy.

“You should work for a gossip rag, Steve. You’d really shine there.” You stated dryly, focusing back on the screen as a few new articles showed in your inbox. It was going to be a busy day of fact-checking and proofreading.

“Oh, don’t be mean. I’m just taking a healthy interest in my colleague’s life.” A smugly amused smirk crossed his lips before a pen came flying at his face, “Hey!”

Unapologetic, you pointed at the door “Get out of my office and get your article done.”

He moved to protest or retort, you weren’t sure, as a new voice interrupted.

“Harassing my girl again, Lombard.”

A feeling of déjà vu fell over you as you and Lombard looked to your door to see Clark leaning in the threshold. You smiled faintly at him becoming amused as Lombard actually shifted to stand. As nice as Clark was, Lombard was well aware that his arms were the size of his head. He felt it better for his ego if he never stood to close to the other reporter...or pissed him off.

And yet...

“Nice choice of flowers, Smallville. So, what did you do?” The smaller man queried jovially.

You threw another pen at him as Clark zeroed in on your present and frowned. He tilted his head curiously and came over to have a better look, allowing Lombard a direct escape if he wanted, “Those aren’t from me.”

You could practically feel a whole new level of intrigue pour from Lombard at Clark’s words. You sent the nosy reported a pointed glare and lifted a pen threateningly. He finally took the hint and left as you spun your chair to face your boyfriend.

You couldn’t stop a cheeky smile as he arched a brow at you, “Yeah...I’ve been meaning to tell you – I've been seeing other guys. You’re gonna need to step up your game, farm boy.”

Clark snorted and slanted a mockingly stern gaze at you through his glasses. You still couldn’t decide if you liked him better with or without the frames, but the meandering thought flew from your head as he nudged your legs apart with his knee and leaned into you. You spared a quick glance towards your open door before meeting him halfway for a kiss.

A soft warmth enveloped you as he nipped your lip and gently coaxed your mouth to open. He stole your breath as he delved deeper and you tasted each other thoroughly. Somehow, you always forgot how good a kisser he was.... it was almost unfair. Especially when he pulled away with that knowing glint in his eye that made you want to smack him and climb him like a tree all at once.

He smirked, “Somehow, I’m not worried.”

“You don’t play fair.” You grumbled though an affectionate smile pulled at the edges of your lips.

“Says the woman who’s receiving flowers from someone other than her boyfriend.” Clark drawled pointedly as he leaned against your desk.

Unwillingly, you glance at your flowery neon sign. You had no desire to share the real reason for the bouquet. Your birthday had never been a particularly good day for you and the only good ones that you had celebrated had been when you were alone.

A cup of tea and a good book to read as you let the day pass you by and ignored the fact that you were another year older... that was your perfection.

You sighed and shrugged, “They’re from Maria, so no need to be jealous.”

His brow furrowed. He had only met Maria a few times and was still trying to wrap his head around the friendship you two shared. Insults, practical jokes, and a fair bit of clothes thievery made up the majority of your relationship.

“You guys aren’t in a prank war again, are you?” Clark asked leerily.

He had been the unintended victim of a couple of your pranks the last month and you couldn’t help, but smirk at the memory.

You shook your head, a lie spilling from your lips before you could stop it, “No. I think I need to check my closet for those new Jimmy Choo's I bought. They’re probably gone now.”

Clark rolled his eyes, “I really don’t understand you two.”

“You don’t need to.” You replied calmly but made the mental note to check your closet anyway. You never knew with Maria.

“Y/N! Stop canoodling your boyfriend! You’ve got papers on the printer.”

A low groan left your lips as a faint heat filled your cheeks at Lombard’s voice, but you moved to get up anyway. You had no desire to have him hover in your office again.

Clark moved to follow before a colorful glint caught his eye. A quick check showed him that you were already out of the office as he reached down to pull the florist’s card from the trash. A deep frown marred his features as he took in the festive balloons and quickly scrawled birthday wish.

Why wouldn’t you tell him it was your birthday?

He quickly nabbed Maria’s number from your phone and disappeared from your office.

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

Your eyes had begun to sting as you stared at your computer screen. A small headache forming at the base of your neck, as you continued to work. You hadn’t been wrong when you assessed that today was going to be busy.

Five more articles had appeared on your desk before lunch and about a dozen phone calls placed and taken before and after that – notes were scribbled into margins and glaring errors corrected. So far, you had only been able to toss back a couple pieces and it was well after six already. Tiredly, you rubbed at the bridge of your nose, more than ready to go home and collapse into bed...but there was still so much you needed to do.

“Hey, you about ready to go?”

You started at the sound of Clark’s voice, nearly sending your keyboard skittering to the floor, “Christ! I swear you need a damn bell.”

He chuckled lowly, watching as you clutched at your chest and glared mildly at him. He came to stand next to your desk, noting that you hadn’t even begun to shut down for the night while his shoulder bag was already tucked under his arm, ready to call it quits, “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Grab your stuff, I’m taking you to dinner.”

A rueful smile quirked at your lips as you wave him off, “Raincheck, babe. I need to get this done or Perry’s gonna have a fit.”

He frowned glancing over the mess of papers on your desk. He hadn’t planned for you to still be working and almost wondered if you had taken on extra articles on purpose, “How much more do you have to do?”

“Don’t know. Maybe another hour – two tops.” You shrugged and smiled softly at him, “You’re free to roam the skies, Captain.

Clark raised an incredulous brow. Not because you had alluded to his alter-ego, you had known for a few months now and had slowly been coming to terms with the fact that your boyfriend was a superhero. It was a road that had not been easily traveled by any means. No, his disbelief came from now being certain that you had taken on extra articles.

You didn’t often seek solitude, but when you did it was by diving into your work... he had learned that particular quirk relatively quickly and almost painfully. But not tonight – tonight you and he had plans and he wasn’t about to let you break them.

He reached over your shoulder and hit a couple buttons on your keyboard to send your computer into hibernation. You stared in shock at his gall, “Clark!”

He was already grabbing your coat, “Dinner, let’s go.”

Your gaze swiveled from the computer to him, your headache becoming full-blown as your expression creased into annoyance, “I told you, I have work. I’m sorry if that ruins your plans, but we’ll just -”

“You didn’t have lunch.” He cut you off and crossed his arms with a mild glare of his own, “You’ve been mainlining coffee like there’s about to be a tariff placed on it. I wouldn’t be surprised to find that all you ate today was a bagel from Guillermo’s. And I know for a fact that no one has a deadline that needs to be met today or tomorrow. Dinner. Now. Don’t think I won’t drag you out of here.”

You glare at each other in a silent standoff. It wasn’t until he stepped toward you that you gave in with a heavy scowl, “What are you? My mother?”

“A concerned boyfriend.” He retorted as he held out your coat.

You accepted it grudgingly and grabbed your purse before stepping out of the office. Clark followed behind you, not wanting to give you a chance to close the door on him. You had done it before.

He watched you from the corner of his cerulean eyes. Your annoyance didn’t last long, but a deep weariness seemed to fall over you as the two of you left the Planet. He slid a warm comforting hand across the small of your back to grip lightly at your hip. Relief flowing through him as you leaned into his side. You weren’t too annoyed with him, then.

You made it down an entire block before you realized you didn’t know where you were heading. Both of your apartments were in the other direction and any decent restaurant required calling for a cab to get to...

You blinked in confusion, “Clark...where?”

He smiled wondering when you would ask. Glancing around discreetly, he pulled you into an alley and firmly against his body. Your brow rose, a questioned poised on the tip of your tongue that turned into a startled scream as you suddenly found yourself in the air.

Your arms wrapped around his neck like a lock as you buried your face into his shoulder. Muffled curses and small whimpers spilled from your throat as the two of you flew. Even when he slowed, now safely away from prying eyes and telescopes, you refused to look up.

“You can relax. I won’t drop you.” He murmured into your ear, feeling mildly guilty for scaring you. He could feel you trembling and knew it wasn’t from the cold air.

A muffled curse was his only response as you gripped tighter. You did not like this.

Luckily, you were soon on the ground again, though it took you a few minutes to remember how to unlock your frozen limbs. Your heart pounded in your chest as you swallowed against a noxious turn of your stomach. You couldn’t stop shaking...

Clark rubbed soothingly at your arms as you tried to find some semblance of control over your body. Your eyes slowly opened into a dark glare, your hand already moving to smack him in the chest. It was infuriating to know that it wouldn’t hurt him, “Don’t ever do that again, you jackass.”

His eyes widen in a way that reminded you of a scolded puppy, but you refused to bend and stumbled back a step. You turned intending to see where exactly he had dropped you and figure out how to get home but froze at the sight you found.

Twinkle lights shimmered in the burgeoning night sky as they danced about the branches of an old willow tree. A small wooden table set for two was guarded by the fluttering leaves while being showcased by the light. It was startlingly quaint and romantic all in one.

Martha smiled as she placed a covered dish in the center of the table and waved at the two of you. You were on the farm...

“Happy Birthday,” Clark murmured behind you.

Your mouth moved silently before you turned confused eyes on him, “...How?”

“I saw the card in your trash can. Called Maria... then I called mom.” Clark explained casually as if he were talking about the weather.

Stunned all you could do was blink, even as Martha came up to greet the two of you.

She wrapped you in a quick hug, “Happy Birthday, dear.”

Then turned to place a kiss to her son’s cheek before shooing you towards the table, “Go, eat before it gets cold. I need to finish your cake.”

Cake. The word jolted you back to reality, “Oh Martha - you didn’t need to go through all this trouble.”

“Nonsense.” She called back, already halfway back to the house.

Distracted, Clark slipped his hand into yours and gently tugged you towards the table. Smells of garlic and tomato and cheese wafted toward you and your mouth began to water. Sheer wonder filled you as Clark pulled your chair out for you and then moved to uncover the dish Martha had left. Steam rose into the air as he revealed a freshly baked lasagna. Salad and garlic bread next to it.

Your throat constricted as you took in the care that had gone into this... A home cook meal shouldn’t bring you to tears, but you felt the sting at the corners of your eyes.

“Y/N?” Clark called quietly. Worried that he may have overstepped his bounds with this surprise.

Your heart felt too big for your chest as you met his gaze. It was with tremulous movements that you left your seat to place a grateful kiss to his lips, “Thank you...I didn’t...You didn’t need...”

You couldn’t find the words to express just how overwhelmed you were feeling as you fell back to your seat, but not letting go of his hand.

Clark watched you with a soft smile, “I think it's my right to spoil my girlfriend on her birthday, though it would help if I had known sooner.”

A stray tear spilled down your cheek as you shook your head, knowing that you would have to explain your distaste for this day...but you also didn’t want to dwell on those thoughts, “I didn’t expect you to...Clark -”

He squeezed your hand as if he already knew, “Tell me later, I have more spoiling to do.”

You huffed a laugh and shyly smiled, “You know Clark Kent, you really know how to make a girl fall.”

He grinned widely, “And to think you hate flying.”

“You’re still not fully forgiven for that... but I think I’ll get over it.” You murmured, joy burning your veins as his expression turned relieved.

He pressed a kiss to your joined hands.

It was the first birthday you could say that you truly enjoyed. Over a plate of hot lasagna in the late summer night as crickets chirped and frogs sang and with a man... a man who looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered. That was the only present you ever needed.

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

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#man of steel #superman #clark kent #clark kent x reader #fanfiction

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dragonologist-in-the-making · 4 years

Text

Love Potion

Pairing: Sirius x Potter!reader

Request: Can I request a Sirius Black scenario with ravenclaw reader who is james’ Sister where Reader ends up accidentally drinking or consuming a love potion that the marauders made as a joke for James and the first person she sees is Sirius. Sirius is enjoying the attention because he’s liked you for a while but James can’t handle seeing you all over Sirius.

A/N: Thank you nonnie!! I loved this! Forever love a sibling of the marauders reader one of my faaavourites by far. I really hope you like this one (think it might be one of my favourites!!)

Wordcount: 1.4K

Warnings: just a couple swear words

…

y/n and James walked into his dorm, bickering about some minor thing as always, oblivious to the sniggering that was coming from the other three occupants in the room. She walked over and flopped onto Sirius’ bed beside the boy, whose smile lightened considerably. James walked over to his own bed, frowning at the little box which had been left on his pillow.

“What’s this?” he asked, picking it up and holding it in front of him to clarify what he was talking about.

“No idea, it was here before us.” Remus shrugged, turning his attention back to the book in his hands.

“Oh, it’s some chocolate.” He exclaimed, the delight clear in his voice as his twin perked up beside Sirius, wordlessly holding her hands out in expectation that he share the treat. “I wonder who sent it.” He mused, taking out a couple of the treats and throwing them to his sister who caught them with a smile.

“Want one?” she offered, facing Sirius and offering him the extra treat in her hand as she popped the chocolate in her mouth, relishing in the taste as Sirius’ eyes widened slightly. She swallowed the treat and almost immediately started giggling, a red blush adorning her cheeks.

“Um. How are you feeling y/n?” Remus asked, suddenly abandoning his book and sitting up straight on his bed. James had frozen with the chocolate halfway to his mouth, suspicious of the tense atmosphere that had blanketed the room.

“I feel fine.” She replied, her voice light and airy, clear that there was nothing on her mind to bother her. Remus relaxed, letting out a sigh as Sirius’ shoulders drooped, seeming to be slightly disappointed. “Why wouldn’t I be fine? Siri is here.” She added, crawling into his side and wrapping her arms tight around his waist. Sirius’ grin returned quickly, his arms circling her too as James frowned intensely.

“What’s this? What’s happening here?” He demanded, his chocolate now forgotten completely as he pointed between his best friend and his sister. “Why is y/n suddenly all over you?”

“Well, we may have given you those chocolates.” Sirius admitted, the smile still not having left his face as y/n snuggled closer to him, swinging her legs onto his lap.

“And we may have spiked them with a love potion.” Peter finished, smiling sheepishly as James’ face whitened. Remus shrugged apologetically, having nothing else to offer, clearly amused at the situation.

James turned back to watch y/n as Sirius as she whispered to him and they laughed together, seeming to be in their own world. “Well, where’s the antidote?” he demanded, his anger rising when he was answered with silence. “You eejits didn’t make an antidote?” He exclaimed, nearly shouting at this point as the sight in front of him made him extremely uncomfortable and the anger began to bubble through him.

“It’ll wear off in a couple hours, it wasn’t particularly strong.” Remus offered, hoping that it would help to calm James down. The boy began to pace back and forth, trying to formulate a plan in his head and trying to ignore the sickening giggle he could hear from his sister.

“Come on, Siri, I’ll take you to my common room, that way James can’t follow us.” He heard her voice pipe up, and turned to see y/n leading Sirius out of the dorm by his hand. He went to say something, anything, to stop them from leaving together, but Sirius beat him to it, telling y/n to wait down the stairs for him.

“James, nothing is going to happen. I’ll sit with her until it wears off, and then she’ll be so embarrassed she’ll avoid us all for a week.” He reasoned. Seeing that James was about to protest again, he lowered his voice, hoping that y/n wasn’t hovering outside and listening. “Prongs, you know I don’t want anything to happen this way, it’s not real. I’m not going to take advantage of your sister.” Finally conceding, James nodded, and Sirius left the dorm to join y/n in the Ravenclaw tower for the next few hours.

Once they had made it across the castle and into the Ravenclaw common room, they sat on the sofa together, y/n in between Sirius’ legs as he ran his hands through her hair as she kept telling him all the features that were so great about him.

“Have I ever told you how much I like your eyes? They show more than any other eyes I’ve seen, they’re so complicated in the most brilliantly addictive way I get lost in them so easily. I swear I could look into your eyes all day…” She trailed off at the end, her voice growing quiet and meek and she slowly shrank into herself, slipping off the sofa and onto the floor, where her knees were curled tightly into her chest. “Oh no.” she whispered.

Sirius laughed loudly, pulling her back up and putting her between his legs, resting his chin on her shoulder as he felt her tense up. “Finally wore off?” he asked, unable to stop the laughter shaking his body.

“I’m so sorry. I can’t believe it. Oh my god, I think I’m going to be sick.” She mumbled, once again leaving Sirius’ grip and standing up, beginning to shake violently as she paced, unsure where to go.

“So you don’t think my hair is ‘shiny and pretty enough to braid a million times over’?” He teased and she just groaned, her shakes going more violent if that was possible, her eyes shining as tears pooled in them.

“Sirius.” She warned, her voice thick as she shot a glare his way. He didn’t miss the way her shoulders shook and the almost silent sob which fell from her. He rushed up from his spot on the sofa, engulfing her in his arms and holding her tightly, his hands rubbing small, comforting circles on the small of her back.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He whispered, feeling his own heart break as she fell apart in front of him. “Please don’t feel bad, y/n, there’s no reason for you to feel bad.” He heard her small laugh in disbelief and took a deep breath, preparing himself for something he in no way thought he would be saying that day. “There’s no reason for you to feel bad, because you said everything I’ve been wanting to hear.” He confessed, watching her as she pulled back, wiping her eyes and rolling them.

“Yeah, Siri, you’re welcome for me inflating your ego.” She retorted, beginning to move towards the common room entrance, wanting to go and visit her brother.

“No, y/n, you don’t get it.” He called, catching her in his grip once again. She stood, waiting for his words, not daring to face him. “I like you. I really, maddeningly like you, and I’ve been wanting to tell you for so long. I was too scared, always had an excuse ready for why I couldn’t, but hearing you say that stuff about me… it felt like every wish I’ve made came true. I’ve been wanting to hear it for a long time, and I loved hearing them, I just wish they weren’t induced by a stupid potion.” He sighed, feeling the pain in his own chest as he poured out his feelings to her, finally acknowledging what he had been trying to push aside for years.

She turned to face him, her eyes wide and glassy again, her mouth open slightly in shock. “No you don’t.” She reasoned with herself, her brain going into overdrive. “No, you don’t like me, because if you like me, then James knows, but he knows that I like you, so why wouldn’t he say something? It’s okay, Sirius, you don’t have to lie to make me feel better.” He sighed, seeing her work herself into a state where no words would make her see the truth.

He took the few steps to close the space between them, cradling her face in his hands as he leaned in and kissed her, before nerves could take over. He was right, his actions seemed to be more convincing than his words had been. Her hands flew to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as their lips moved together, feeling the magic, a whole new magic they were yet to explore, coursing through them. He broke the kiss, both of them breathing heavily as she looked at him once more, her lips slightly swollen.

“Well, fuck. I can’t believe James never told me.”

#harry potter #harry potter fic #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x potter!reader #sirius x reader #sirius x potter!reader #padfoot #padfoot x reader #padfoot x potter!reader #james potter x platonic!reader #james potter x sister!reader #marauders #marauders era

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